A/N: Please, no throwing of objects. Enjoy. And this is unbetaed, so any mistakes are mine. I just couldn't stop typing tonight. Although it's going to be a while before the next chapter. I've got a wake and a funeral to go to this week.

Chapter 5

The strip was home to many nightclubs and bars. Some upscale, trendy, and exclusive. Seedy was a kind word for how others could be described. But the vast majority catered to the middle to upper-middle class. Cover charges weren't astronomical, but every once in a while it could hit the pocket. Skyy was one of Eric's favorite clubs and had been for years, ever since it opened fifteen years ago. It had had some name and owner changes, but the tone and feel of the place remained the same and that was what kept the crowds coming back and Eric in particular. Deciding that was where he wanted to dance tonight, Eric got in line and had to wait fifteen minutes to gain entrance. Once he paid the cover charge of $20.00, Eric entered Skyy. The music was pounding and the rhythm could be felt through his chest. As he moved about the room, he reflexively checked out the exits. Being a cop was sometimes a pain, but knowing where the exits were could mean the difference between life and death.

Pushing those morbid thoughts aside, he thought about where he wanted to hang out. The four levels of the club and the different music that could be found on each afforded him a lot of choices. Did he want to dance to hip-hop, Latin, or one of the other two? Eric made the decision and headed upstairs to the second level. He wanted to lose himself in the music and that didn't usually happen unless he was dancing to the sounds of home. As Eric opened the door to the second level, Latin music pulsed through the walls, invigorating him with the quick rhythms and instrumentals. Unconsciously, Eric began to move to the beat as he walked around the large level and hit the bar first for a drink. The bar itself was slightly separated from the main room, but large enough for people to congregate and actually talk, with a few tall tables dispersed for seating. The music was still loud here, but it was slightly muffled. A few minutes later, the bartender had his mojito in front of him and Eric was taking a sip of the sharp, bitter, but good drink.

As he sipped his drink, Eric decided to hit the dance floor and was immediately accosted by a stunning willowy blond who sat down in the stool next to him as soon as its previous occupant vacated it. "Hi, can I buy you a drink?" she asked boldly, looking him in the eyes, body turned toward his. Blue-green hazel eyes met his hotly.

Eric smiled a little. "Isn't that my line?"

"It's everybody's line, sugar," a Southern lilt softly apparent. Eric was reminded instantly of Calleigh's voice, but he pushed those thoughts away. Calleigh wasn't here and this wasn't the club she usually would have frequented anyway.

"No, thanks. I'm good for right now," he said, referring to her earlier question.

"Then how about a dance? You look like you know your way around a dance floor," she practically purred, lightly stroking a hand up the outside of his thigh from his knee.

Eric's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't been so boldly picked up since before the shooting. Wonder if he remembered how to play the game? "That's not all I know my way around," he shot back. Yep. Still did.

Eric and the woman, whose name he did not catch, talked for a few minutes as he finished his drink and then she led him out to the main dance floor which was crowded with dancers. It was tough to move around, but dancing was sometimes more of a bump and grind than all the twirling and steps. He lost himself in the music and closed his eyes. And if he felt another under his hands, smelled jasmine instead of vanilla, tasted a hint of oranges, of citrus, then Eric put it off as his imagination. But it wasn't his imagination when he opened his eyes again and met the gaze of his partner across a crowded dance floor.

A jolt of something zipped through him and he slowed his dancing, distracted by the vision in front of his eyes. He hadn't expected to find her here. In fact, he'd come here to get away from his thoughts, about her and about the dreams. Lose himself in the music and just enjoy the night. Even so, Eric couldn't take his eyes off her, fifty feet away. The blond in his arms finally noticed his inattention and attempted to regain it. But Eric couldn't take his eyes off Calleigh and apparently neither could she. Instinctively, Eric started to take a few steps in her direction, but the blond pulled him back, and suddenly her grip tightened and the scent of her perfume was cloying. Eric shook her off, dismissing her, and walked toward his partner, who'd also stopped dancing with the Latino who had her in his arms. Eric couldn't hear what they said, but his fists clenched involuntarily as the man's head bent down to listen as Calleigh spoke into his ear. A nod and a parting caress on the shoulder and he was gone. Eric approached and stopped a few feet in front of her.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked. She nodded wordlessly. Eric pulled her into his arms and they began to move to the rhythm of the music.

When she opened her eyes and met Eric's across the floor, it was like before. He'd looked at her like that before. Calleigh noticed the blond in his arms with not a little trace of jealousy. She was beautiful, statuesque, willowy. Right up Eric's alley. She found herself irrationally despising a woman she'd never even met. Since the shooting, Eric hadn't dated, or at least, she'd never seen him with a woman or talked about one at work, and so she'd thought he'd taken some time off the circuit. But now, seeing that woman in his arms, a rush of anger and jealousy, irrational as it was, flooded her and it took everything in her not to bodily remove that female from his arms. Eric had no problem doing so when she got clingy. A rush of relief when he pushed her away almost had Calleigh swaying on her feet, but she regained her footing when Eric started to walk toward her. Never taking her eyes off his, Calleigh reached up and said to her dance partner, "Thanks for the dance, but I've got other plans. Maybe some other time." With a smile and a caress on the shoulder and he was gone, just in time for Eric's approach.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked. There was something more to that question than the simple connotation it implied. A heaviness to the query that had Calleigh's lower body tingling. It was as if he was asking for much more than a simple dance. Words stuck in her mouth, lips sealed shut and all Calleigh could do was nod her assent. He took her hand in his and she had to suppress a shudder at the stroke of his palm against hers. What was going on? This hadn't happened since before. But she couldn't help herself. Eric pulled her into a sensual rhythm, and the two of them began to dance in concert. The beat was slow, sexual, throbbing, and soon Calleigh found herself lost in the music, but more so, lost in the arms of the man who held her. It was just the two of them. The world faded away beyond the music and Eric, and Calleigh didn't care. It had been so long… At first, they danced heatedly, a give and take. He advanced. She retreated. But as the music changed tempo, so did the tone of their dance. Hips brushed, clashed, and met. Hands stroked. Her hair ghosted teasingly across his neck when he circled her and Calleigh's blue dress did nothing to mitigate the silken slide of his hands across her waist, around her back, and down to the soft swell of her bottom. As fleeting as that touch was, she had to suppress a moan.

His bold caress allowed her to circle her arms around his neck and not for the first time, Calleigh wished Eric hadn't kept his head shaved. She loved to run her fingers through the soft, thick hair. He shivered at the gentle scrape of her nails across the nape of his neck. The dance grew more heated and Eric pulled her closer, trapping her in his arms, bodies sliding chest to chest so he had to feel the press of her nipples rubbing against his upper body. She could feel his erection pressing against her and Calleigh gasped as heat raced through her body. Eric dipped her suddenly and she could feel the hard press of his upper leg against the hot juncture of her thighs. Calleigh hadn't realized just how aroused she was until that moment. It was almost enough pressure against her clit to make her climax. Almost. Eric's eyes flared in recognition and nothing could have prevented him from taking the kiss that followed.

At first, he just brushed his mouth against hers, testing the waters. Eric didn't want to go any further than Calleigh wanted. He couldn't believe this was happening in the first place. Only in his dreams. Only there had he tasted the velvety feel of her lips, sipped from her mouth. The kiss changed a few moments after it began. A nibble on her lower lip and then Eric's mouth pressed hard against her soft lips, a desperate mute plea for entrance inside. A gasp from the electric tingle from that nip parted her lips slightly. She couldn't resist. She hadn't felt this in forever.

It was heaven, coming home, every amazing thing he'd ever imagined and more. Calleigh's mouth was sweet, her taste everything he'd imagined and nothing he'd expected. The last 30 Christmas mornings and birthdays rolled into one intense moment. Nothing could compare to this kiss, he thought dazedly. He had to quickly reassess that dim thought as the moment got impossibly better. Hot, greedy hands pushed his dress shirt out of the way to reach the skin of his abdomen and rake those nails across the hard plane of his stomach. Eric had to suck in a quick breath at the intense sensation those little hands produced against his skin. It was as though Calleigh knew just where to touch to illicit the most intense sensations.

Calleigh moaned in protest as Eric reached up tentatively and covered a breast over her shirt. It wasn't enough. It could never been enough. She walked backward, mindless of the other dancers on the crowded dance floor, blindly moving toward a wall, away from the other people, to a space they could be secluded somewhat. Finally, her back hit a wall and she pulled him into her. One hand spanned her waist, the other still curled on the underside of her breast. But it wasn't enough. Her shirt was in the way. But they were in a club. No need to get arrested for indecent exposure. Improvisation was her forte though and Calleigh proved it by hitching up onto a little niche into the wall and pulling him closer into her body created by the vee of her legs. Eric's erection impacted solidly with her core and Calleigh cried out into his mouth, clutching at his backside to bring him closer, rocking her hips against his. He couldn't believe how far this had gotten in such a short time, and a little voice in the back of his mind said, slow down, but he couldn't make himself let go. Eric couldn't help but respond, breathing labored, but still willing to take this where it would go. Just hopefully, not so far they got arrested.

He broke away briefly from her addictive mouth to say, "Cal, wai—" He wanted to take things a little slower, not rush into something that could backfire on him. He cared about her deeply, but didn't know how she felt about him and this attraction just complicated an already convoluted relationship.

"No, I missed—" You, she thought, biting off the word at the last moment. Tears sprang unexpectedly to her eyes as she looked up at Eric, confusion and lust, desire and hope all in his eyes. But she couldn't say that. There was a lot she couldn't say, and—Calleigh's attention caught sight of a certain cop, drinks in hand, scanning the dance floor for his date. "I-Eric, I've got to go," she said in a rush, pushing at his body and when he moved slightly, she hopped down from her perch, biting off a cry as gravity torturously forced her to rub her center against the part of Eric that hadn't lost his interest.

Eric was still dazed when Calleigh brushed past him. He tried to stop her, but his hands were clumsy, weak with the want of her, and maybe it was best, a voice inside said. Give her some time. The shadows and dim lights helped her vanish. Don't push it, Eric, the voice inside cautioned. Let it go for now. You have time to figure things out and talk with Calleigh later, when she's had time to think about what happened. Tonight, something profound had happened. It wasn't every day you found such a large slice of heaven. And from the tortured and hurt look in her eyes, there was something more going on than what she was saying. Once Calleigh left, Eric couldn't get back into the dancing. He just wasn't into it. The main reason he'd come was to get away from Calleigh and the dreams, but she'd found him and they'd….well, he didn't exactly know what it meant, but it had to mean something other than status quo. Regardless of whether or not she was involved. You didn't just kiss and fondle someone when you were involved with someone else if you were happy, not if you were Calleigh. If they hadn't been in a crowded dance club, who knew where this could have taken them?

Eric's mind leapt onto a fleeting thought. Calleigh had peeled out of his arms like something was after her. Or, more likely, someone. Jake. Had to be. He'd seen them earlier at the PD. His mother's voice berated him inside his head and Eric had to consciously force himself to not to flinch at his mind's dead-on impression of his Madre. A bit of shame came over him at the way he'd behaved a few minutes earlier with Calleigh. What if Jake had walked over, seen them? As much as he hated the guy, Jake did not deserve that. No one did. And Eric had never had any respect for anyone who betrayed a lover's trust like that. Yet here he was, having committed the very act his mother had warned him against.

If he and Calleigh were ever to have a relationship, he wanted it to be based on trust. And you couldn't trust the person you were with when that relationship was developed out of an affair. Eric had a cousin who even now, at 30—a man by society's standards—still acted like a horny 17 year old kid. He'd gotten involved with one girl, cheated on her with another, and then hooked up with that girl for a couple of years, only to cheat on her for most of the time they were together. Being friends with both, Eric had been caught in the middle, and when Tiffany had come to him crying about Eddie's infidelity, it had taken everything in him not to say, "I told you so." How could you expect fidelity from a person when infidelity was the beginning of your relationship? That was the last thing he wanted with Calleigh. He wanted a relationship with her based on trust and commitment and love and not dishonesty and suspicion. If he was serious about this thing about Calleigh, Eric mused, he'd have to take things slow, let her figure it out on her own and when she'd broken up with Jake, only then could Eric possibly even contemplate making his move. The thought felt cold and calculating, but that was the truth.

Eric walked back to the bar to get another drink. He needed one after the last several minutes with Calleigh. Holding her in his arms had been heaven and hell all wrapped up into one lithe little package and right now his sense of up from down was altered. Obliterated was more like it. Heaven because it had felt perfect being in her arms, holding her in his. Hell because reality had come crashing down when she left. She was committed to Jake, no matter how much he might hate it and no matter than she had kissed him like there was no tomorrow. Calleigh was not one for cheating on a partner. She had a very strict code of ethics and that wasn't her.

Even so… the way she had responded to him, as if it was only the two of them in the room. A shiver traveled down his spine from the base of his neck. She'd made him forget about everything, but her. Eric asked for scotch on the rocks, needing something significantly stronger than a mojito after the night he'd had. He nursed the scotch, sipping gently, needing to calm his body down. He was still revved from those moments with Calleigh, his body primed for her touch. A body took the vacant seat beside him at the bar and Eric's eyes focused slightly, enough to give the person some room. It was a woman, honey-colored tresses cascading down her shoulders and she was saying something to him. It took a few seconds for Eric's mind to process the words. "My name's Arianna. Would you like to get out of here and get a room?" Eric's gaze focused and sharpened on the woman in front of him, the woman from the dance floor he had dismissed earlier.

He looked at her in confusion, not really sure if he'd heard her right. "I said," Arianna stated, "Would you like to hook up?" and she suggestively ran her right hand what should have been teasingly up Eric's inner thigh. He entertained that thought for a split second, but only long enough for her hand to tread dangerously to the erection he still sported because of Calleigh. Calleigh. A rush of shame shut the thought of going home with the woman in front of him. Jesus, what was wrong with him? Just the thought of Calleigh had him recoiling in distaste from the woman in front of him. Her bold advance, after Calleigh's electric touch, left a bad taste in his mouth. He couldn't fathom going home with another woman after he'd just shared such an incredible moment with Calleigh. Even though it had only been physical in nature, there had been something more lurking in her eyes and he was in love with her. He couldn't disrespect that emotion by going from Calleigh to this woman, or any other, for that matter.

Eric gently removed her hand before it encountered other, much more sensitive areas and firmly told her, "No. Thank you." This was a first for him. Eric couldn't remember when, or if, he'd ever turned down a beautiful woman. That thought brought a grimace to his face. He used to be a real horn dog. Before. Always before.

"Sure I can't do something to convince you otherwise?" the woman purred, attempting to reconnect with his leg.

Eric began to get annoyed and a little sick from her touch. He'd tried sweet and polite. "No," he said abruptly. "I'm not interested."

Arianna's demeanor changed instantly at his tone. "You were interested just fine when we were dancing. Before that woman caught your attention," she snipped.

"Exactly," he ended the conversation just before he hopped off the stool and walked away, leaving a very irate woman sitting alone at the bar. She'd get over it. Women like her were used to getting what they wanted and she was the type that she wouldn't be alone for long.

Eric's skin crawled at the phantom feel of her hands on his body. It had felt wrong. Even in the split second of considering her proposition, he had known he couldn't possibly have gone through it. Something inside him screamed out in protest. Whether it was his heart, head, or body, Eric didn't know, but he trusted himself and hooking up with a random stranger the night he'd shared something so profound with the woman of his dreams would cheapen the experience. Dishonor Calleigh. She meant much more to him than a quick lay and if he couldn't keep it in his pants, then he didn't deserve her.

Eric left the club after he exited the bar area, deciding not to stick around with Calleigh and probably Jake in the same building. There was too much temptation there for him to resist finding and confronting her. Whatever this was between them could be addressed later. He didn't want to make a scene and God knew, something would happen if he found her with Jake right then. He didn't think his stomach could take the sight of them dancing, Jake kissing her, touching what he'd just spent long minutes caressing. Even now, his stomach turned at the thought.

When he got home, he was too wired up to go to sleep so he laid out on the sofa for a bit, watched TV. A few minutes in had Eric closing his eyes, more tired than he'd anticipated. What seemed like hours later, Eric was jolted awake by the blaring of an infomercial for Orange Glow and he turned off the set with the remote that had fallen down on the floor when he fell asleep. The sofa was no place for sleeping, as Eric's back could attest and so he went into the bedroom to change and get ready for bed. Eric stripped and entered his walk-in closet. Most guys did not have walk-in closets, but considering Eric's propensity for clothes and his sense of style, he needed one. He threw everything in the baskets inside the closet and toed his shoes in their usual spot beside the shoe rack. He always got out his clothes for the next day the night before and that night was no different, even though it was 2AM. Haphazardly pulling out a pair of jeans and a lightweight long sleeve shirt off the top shelf, Eric noticed something fall into the laundry bin. Rummaging through the dirty clothes, he found what had fallen at the bottom of the bin: a long velvety box. Eyes drawn in confusion, Eric pulled it out and went back into the bedroom to open his find. When he did, his eyebrows rose in shock. The box contained a diamond tennis bracelet with eight emeralds interspersed equally between the diamonds. Who was this for? When had he bought it? Or had he? What was it for? All these questions and more circled in his head. Eric noticed something he hadn't at first glance. There was a small note folded up in the top half of the box. He extracted it and unfolded the small piece of paper. In his own handwriting was noted the following:

For the woman of my dreams. Eight years of friendship. And much more.

What the hell? There was only one woman in his life he'd ever referred to as the woman of his dreams. But that would mean…what did it mean? And much more.

Eric's heart started to race, pound, and his breath began to get short and erratic, coming in bursts, hard and fast. Pinpricks darted in front of his eyes and Eric had to blink to prevent himself from passing out. What he was imagining wasn't possible. Because if it was—

"Oh, Eric! I love it. It's gorgeous!" she exclaimed over her present. A one-touch espresso machine with all the bells and whistles. She'd been grumbling about not having coffee just the way she liked, dark, strong, and sweet. As Eric had taught her. "But it's not my birthday. So what's the occasion?"

Eric shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing special. Just saw it in the store, on special, and I knew you were looking for one."

"Thank you so much," she said, throwing her arms around her friend and Eric had to repress a shudder at the feel of her body pressed to his.

Another flash of something, imagination or memory, Eric didn't know, but it sure felt real.

A bed. Satin sheets. Jasmine and gardenia. The scent of her on the sheets. Eric nuzzled his face into her pillow, reluctant to let the moment go. He didn't want a single thing to change. This was perfection.

Again, this time much faster.

They rolled in the leaf-covered damp grass, tussling and each trying to gain the upper hand. Finally, laughing, she gained the top position and straddled him, leaning down, breath whispering against his, her face just inches from his. A smile curved her lips and she said quietly, reverently, "I love you." Eric swiftly closed the distance and reached up with his mouth to capture hers in a passion-filled kiss, communicating all that he couldn't say at that moment for lack of speech.

Eric came out of the visions gasping for air, reeling from what his mind had showed him. The images were all jumbled up and it was hard to keep grasp of any one thing, but he was sure of one constant in that moment: the woman in his visions was Calleigh. He was confused. Was he seeing truth, memories his mind had forgotten, as it had several other things? Or was what he was seeing an elaborate series of daydreams that had crossed over from the dream world? His imagination at work? Did he want this so badly his mind had to make up scenarios for him? A waking dream of sorts? Eric disregarded that thought cautiously. His heart told him at least some of this rung true, deep inside. If that was the case, Calleigh had been lying to him. He needed to find out for himself. He needed to talk with her. Now. Eric glanced at the clock. Two thirty in the morning was late, but this couldn't wait. Rushing through the apartment, Eric grabbed his keys on the way out and barely remembered to lock up, his mind was so preoccupied. Regardless of what the truth was, he needed to hear it from Calleigh.

***

As Calleigh raced away from Eric, it took everything in her not to turn around and lose herself in his arms again. Her traitorous body demanded it. But…He wasn't hers. Not now. Not ever again. By the time she reached Jake, who was holding a couple of drinks and looking annoyed, she thought she had her body under control. At least, on the outside. The inside was a whole other matter. Inside she was still trembling, reeling from her encounter with Eric. Something that should never have happened. Logic said so, but her heart and body were in disagreement. In fact, they wanted to wage war on her head. It wasn't the first time her intellect and her heart would disagree, especially over a man, and it wouldn't be the last. "Where were you?" Jake's voice was slightly accusing and Calleigh was definitely not in the mood for his attitude.

"I went to the ladies' room," she lied, taking the martini Jake held. Thankfully, the bathroom actually was in the direction from which she'd come.

"I've been looking for you for the last fifteen minutes," he continued, suspicious. Calleigh looked flushed, even more so than just dancing could do. Jake's keen eyes scanned the dance floor, looking for anyone who might seem familiar. Calleigh was averting her eyes and that was a sure sign that something was up, no matter how much she protested.

"The line was pretty long, as usual. There's never a line for the men's," she complained, trying to put enough irritation in her voice to convince her cop boyfriend. Jake searched her eyes, trying to read her, but could not find any real evidence beyond her flushed state to indicate something had happened. Besides, he thought, shaking his head slightly, Calleigh would never cheat on him. Well, except maybe with Delko. But the Cuban wasn't there.

At Jake's discontinuance of the interrogation, Calleigh breathed an internal sigh of relief. As much as she'd enjoyed their time together, participated (and initiated, a voice inside pointed out), she did not neither wanted nor needed the trouble that would come with Jake's knowledge of Eric's advances. To put Jake off even further, Calleigh pulled him on the opposite side of the club where she'd left Eric and they danced for another hour before leaving. How she made it through even that short time was a miracle. Especially when she was distracted by looking at every man that she saw within eye distance, verifying they weren't Eric. All the while trying to appear attentive to Jake and not make him suspicious. Even so, she didn't think she'd succeeded much when the ride home was completely silent. When they arrived back at her house, the sound of Jake's keys hitting the table at the door was deafening and it made Calleigh jump.

"Calleigh, what's going on? You've been silent almost the entire night, ever since the PD. Distant," Jake confronted.

"It's nothing, Jake. I'm just tired. Can't we just forget about tonight and go to bed?" she asked, wanting nothing more than to forget the night had happened. Wishing for what you couldn't have was stupid. And pretending you didn't have your hands on Eric's body wasn't? a voice inside asked. You want him. Get him. It wasn't as simple as that. There was too much at stake. Too much water under the bridge.

Jake's reply ripped Calleigh out from her musings. "Dammit Calleigh, you can't just sweep everything under the rug. Sometime, eventually, maybe even very soon, you're going to have to confront whatever it is that is bothering you. The question is whether or not I'll be there. I'm getting sick and tired of this distance between us. I'm going home," he said, snatching up his keys and leaving, slamming the door shut.

The last time this…distance…had happened between them, she and Jake had broken up within a few months. An ominous shiver crept down her spine and it felt like someone had walked over her grave. Was it going to happen again? Calleigh replayed the last few months in her head, and began to see a definite trend on her part. As much as she had told herself she was in love with Jake, the way she had behaved—outwardly and inside—told a different story. It had started out so perfectly. He'd come back into her life and it was like she was that 20-year-old recruit again, carefree and happy to see her boyfriend, the man she had once loved so deeply during their training and after. But if she were honest with herself, she admitted one key fact: a small part of her had held back this time around. Not out of fear of commitment to Jake or because she was afraid of getting hurt by him again, but because she missed him. Although things had ended abruptly, Calleigh realized she hadn't quite let go. Of him. Of them. She wanted a second chance. Or maybe it was a third. As a knock sounded at her door and she got up to answer it, Calleigh thought, but how do you tell your best friend you were involved when he couldn't remember it?