Note: As usual, thank you all for the lovely reviews. ❤️ And as a heads-up, this story probably only has a chapter or so left. Maybe one chapter and an epilogue? I haven't planned it all out yet, but it's definitely resolving. I still have Truth Is A Whisper to finish, and a new post-season 10 story in the works, so I hope you all will stick with me for those. :)

In the haze between wake and sleep, Calleigh's eyes fluttered open, met with the soft glow of mid-morning seeping into unfamiliar surroundings. It took a moment to orient herself after a night of long, deep sleep. She was in Eric's bedroom, a place she'd never been until last night, and she relaxed into the sea of grey bedding as a yawn took over her body. His thick panel blinds shielded much more of the sun from his room than her own gauzy white curtains at home, and she realized she had absolutely no idea what time it was.

Rolling over to search for a clock and Eric, she was a little surprised to only find the time. 8:26. She felt like she'd slept a lifetime, and she couldn't believe she'd outslept Eric given the potent dose of medications he was on. It was a little worrisome, actually, and so she was quick to rise rather than stay tucked beneath the sheets and slowly let herself wake.

Halfway down the stairs, she realized her worries had been completely unfounded. The smell of coffee, eggs, and something sweet hit her, and the sounds of him quietly moving about the kitchen were a balm to her anxious heart. It had nothing on the sight of him, though: track pants riding low on his hips, a white tank he definitely hadn't slept in clinging to his upper body. His muscles rippled as he whisked together what looked like eggs, milk, and...cinnamon maybe, she decided.

Exhaling softly, she leaned into the door jamb, resting her head there for a moment as she took him in and let herself come to terms with what the sight of him in the morning did to her. It should've been more than a little awkward, sleeping here with him, having breakfast with him in a modest but definite state of undress, and yet it wasn't really. There was certainly an undercurrent of thick tension, given what had transpired between them in the past and what probably would in the future, and yet there was the promise of more. And she couldn't help but acknowledge the stirring feeling that she could get used to this.

"I thought I was supposed to be taking care of you," she said, making her presence known in a voice that was rough from sleep.

He had a smile on his lips when he turned, taking in the sight of her fresh from a deep sleep, her eyes extra bright in the morning sun and against her pale but glowing skin. Her hair was tousled from sleep, some of her natural waves kinking back as the effects of yesterday's straightening wore off, and it looked like she'd just run her fingers through it and tossed it to one side. The shirt she'd worn to bed hugged little but the bump of her stomach, and her women's boxer-style shorts showed off her toned, smooth legs – which he knew to be true because they'd tangled with his a little last night as they fell asleep.

"Morning, sunshine," he teased, tossing a slice of butter into a sizzling pan. "I thought you were a morning person."

"I am," she assured, though the yawn she had to cover as she stepped toward him made him wonder otherwise. "I'm usually up by 6:30. I feel like a college kid sleeping in til noon. This kid already wears me out." She came up next to him, surveying the spread: eggs with spinach and peppers that were beginning to cook, french toast fixings, and – her eyes widened – what looked like strawberry topping. "Are those strawberries?"

He laughed at her tone: insistent, focused, and way too serious about a little sugar and strawberries. "Yes."

She smiled excitedly, looking forward to fulfilling her one continuous craving for the morning. His eyes danced over her, watching with amusement until she looked up at him, touching a caring hand to his arm. "How's your head? You must've been up early."

"It's okay," he told her honestly, shrugging. "I slept really hard until the meds wore off, then woke up with it pounding. Next dose has kicked in now, though."

She frowned, cupping his shoulder as she used him for leverage to push up onto the tips of her toes to check his incision site, settling back onto her heels when she'd decided it looked fine.

"You still drinking coffee?" he asked, taking in her tired eyes.

"A little."

He reached up, fishing a mug from the cabinet and setting it into her awaiting hands. She poured herself a cup from the full pot next to him, then helping herself to a splash of milk from the carton in his fridge.

"You want any help?" she asked after taking a tip, watching him dip slices of bread in the french toast batter and then set them to sizzle in a pan.

"Nah, I'm good," he assured, hesitantly letting his free hand settle on the small of her back and soothingly running his fingers up her spine. They'd reached this point last night: soothing touches, a few soft, short kisses, his arm on her side while they slept. And yet this morning it felt new again, like testing the waters and making sure it hadn't been some elusive dream. But she smiled, leaning into his touch a little as she lifted the cup of coffee to her lips. "Just relax and wake up a little," he suggested with a smile, taking in the way her features were slowly brightening the longer she woke up – and maybe the more coffee she drank.

Calleigh wandered over to his kitchen table, picking up her cell phone she'd left there last night and scrolling through her notifications. Although she missed CSI work, she was kind of enjoying not being attached to a phone all the time. No sleeping next to it, no middle-of-the-night emergencies, no APBs waking her up at 4am. She did, however, have a text message she'd missed from Sarah last night due to their early bedtime and the time difference.

How are you? How's Eric?

Calleigh sunk into one of the chairs at the table, considering the time before she typed back. It was 5:45 there, but Sarah also had four young kids and a husband that worked early… She bit her lip mischievously, lifting the phone to snap a picture of her current situation: coffee mug on the table in the foreground, Eric in his casual clothes making breakfast in the background.

This is my current view, so I'd say we're both doing pretty well, she added as a caption.

She smiled when the typing bubbles popped up almost immediately.

Ummmmm was the immediate response, followed shortly by more consecutive messages. That's not your house. Did you stay over there? I thought he just had brain surgery?

And then, before she could even respond: Tim says that as a doctor he would not recommend this.

That made her laugh a little, which drew Eric's questioning eyes to her. She bit her lip again as she met his gaze.

"Sarah asked how we were doing, so I sent her a picture of you making breakfast and now she's freaking out."

Eric chuckled, shaking his head a little as he piled up a few pieces of cooked french toast. And then his brows furrowed, because he didn't know Sarah that well and he wasn't sure exactly what she meant. "Wait, like in a gossipy kind of way or a disapproving way?"

Calleigh's eyes were on her phone as she texted back: I'm staying with him while he recovers. Nothing happened. And then, with a little smile before she put her phone down: Well, nothing a doctor would disapprove of.

"Oh, definitely gossipy," Calleigh assured as she stood, suddenly unable to resist the open container of strawberries on the counter. She came up to the counter next to him, popping one into her mouth as he watched her with a hint of amusement. "She likes you and thinks I'm crazy."

"Oh yeah?"

"Uh huh." She watched the smile that spread across his lips, then returned her attention to the berries, biting into another.

She was really into this strawberry thing, he realized. "What did you tell her?"

"That nothing happened," she said, although a smile was turning up the corners of her lips as she turned to him.

"Nothing…" Eric repeated, a little smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. His fingers brushed her hip and then slid around, his hand settling at the small of her back again – this time less comforting, more instigating.

"Nothing," she agreed, though her playful, inviting eyes as he pulled her closer told him that their kisses and caresses and words had definitely not been nothing. And then she pushed up onto the tips of her toes, capturing his lips with hers conspiratorially as her hands landed on his shoulders. Lips melding together a little more than last night and a lot more than she'd intended, she let her hands glide over his skin to cup his neck.

He leaned closer to her, parting his lips as he gave in for a moment to the taste of strawberries, Calleigh, and new beginnings.

2 weeks later

Despite pulling every string she could think of and trying every excuse in the book, she'd had to go back to Seattle for the week. The timing was both great and terrible – great because as time went on, it became apparent that Eric was completely fine and probably didn't need anyone around – except that he still couldn't drive while on his meds. The timing was terrible also because Eric was completely fine, and the two of them had shared more than enough innocent nights together, continually holding back before they crossed a line they couldn't bring themselves back from while he was still technically at risk for complications and supposed to be resting.

And so she was a little eager to get back home - to see him, to spend some time in her actual home, and to start in on the nursery she'd suddenly started stressing about as she hit the 7-month mark. She had paint and a boxed crib waiting; she just needed some time at home to finally finish moving everything out of her former office and get to work. But she'd barely been at home for the past four months, and with at least one more trip to Seattle looming, she was feeling a little short on time.

She was in such a hurry to follow through on her plan – catch a cab, settle in at home, check in with Eric – that she almost missed him as the terminal exit joined with the lobby. It was like her brain was too fixated and tired to register him as her eyes drifted his way, but her breath caught in her chest and her feet subconsciously slowed before she blew right past him.

A little smirk played across his lips because she'd clearly been on a mission, and he watched as she gracefully dodged fellow travelers to make her way to him.

"Eric," she breathed out as she joined him off to the side, immediately dropping the handle of her bag to wrap her arms around his shoulders. "What are you doing here? Did you drive?"

He chuckled at the interrogation, slipping his arms around her waist to pull her close and noting with amusement that her belly pressed into him now. "Yeah, I got cleared earlier this week. Thought I'd surprise you, though."

"That's amazing," she said, because it was. Just two and a half weeks ago he'd woken up from three days of unconsciousness after a traumatic injury and subsequent surgery, and yet here he was, back to normal like it had never happened. Pulling back, she let her hands slip down his arms until they found his, palms kissing and fingers weaving. She tugged him down to her and he followed her lead, softly pressing his lips against hers, eventually moving in a few presses-and-slides before she tilted her head and smiled. They were in a busy airport, and she wanted to know more. "What did they say?"

"All good," he told her, pulling back to smile at her. "Passed my stress test, passed the physical tests for MDPD, passed my neurological exam, went back to work today…"

"Seriously?" Her eyes drifted over his button-up; he was in work attire, now that she thought about it, and looking rather attractive all put together again: grey dress pants and blazer, with a blue button-up that somehow made him fit the "tall, dark, and handsome" bill even more than usual.

"Seriously," he confirmed playfully, an awed smile highlighting his features as he drew their joined hands to their belly. "How are you?" And then, before she could respond, "You look good."

She really did, he thought, as his eyes surveyed the curves of her small frame. The more pregnant she grew, coupled with the fact that she didn't have to chase bad guys around, the more she seemed to be favoring dresses that didn't cut into her growing body and weren't suffocating in the Miami heat. This one was navy, and hugged her upper body with longer short sleeves and a scoop neck before stretching over her stomach and falling to her knees. And maybe he was biased because his feelings for her seemed to be growing dangerously by the day, but he was pretty sure she had that whole glow thing going. Her skin was radiant, her eyes bright as she smiled back at him.

"Thanks." She swallowed under his stare, eyes drifting down to their hands for a moment. "We're good. I'm ready to be home."

"Well, let's go." He smiled and placed a hand at the small of her back, urging her forward once she'd grabbed the handle of her rolling bag. He badly wanted to offer to get it, but somehow he knew he was winning a few points by not asking, so he didn't. He just let her do her own thing and drove her home.

/~/

He knew she was going to notice. He just didn't realize how quickly it would be. But she'd gone to set her bag with her laptop in the living room and caught a glimpse of her usually sparse and open sunroom now filled with an extra desk and bookshelf she wasn't sure she was going to keep.

"Eric," she began, a little questioning, a little playful, as she slowly strolled back to him in the hall. "Did you clear out her room for me?" And then, tilting her head, "How did you get into my house?"

He didn't have a key, and – She stopped her thoughts right there at the guilt etched all over his face, hands finding her hips as she unintentionally practiced her disapproving parent stance – which he would say she had definitely already perfected.

She sighed, trying to be mad about the invasion of her space, but the corners of her lips betrayed her. Of course. He was a cop; he didn't need a key. He could pick locks and disable alarm systems with the best of them, especially with a little A/V help from friends.

"So, I have something to show you," Eric began a little anticlimactically. He reached for her hip and tugged her toward him, toward the stairs, taking her hand in his as he led her up.

She thought she knew – thought when he took her hand and led her upstairs, he'd be walking her into a completely empty room: a blank slate. She thought they would be in her cleared out office, a modern grey color she'd loved but was ready to paint over with soft yellow and fill the space between the walls with their daughter's things.

She had no idea.

But she knew something was different the moment they reached the closed door, the light that seeped beneath it brighter and whiter than usual. And then he opened it and led her into a room that definitely wasn't completely empty – and most definitely was not still her grey office. The soft yellow paint she'd had sitting in a can in the room was now perfectly rolled over the walls, all the trim and the window frames touched up with a clean, fresh white.

He'd tracked down the box of crib parts in her garage and taken care of that, too: a picturesque white crib now sitting atop the plush carpet. A mysterious glider chair and matching ottoman also sat in the corner, leaving her the easy and fun parts of decorating the space and adding finishing touches.

She was still too surprised to say a word, her eyes simply taking everything in. Stepping forward, she ran her hand along the smooth wood of the crib, checking his handiwork as a nervous smile crept across her lips. There was really a crib in her house, and in two months or less there would be a child, too.

His voice drew her from her anxious thoughts. "Are you mad?"

She let out an emotional breath and turned to him, eyes beginning to water as the magnitude of what he'd done for her set in. This wasn't even his house. He'd done this completely for her and the baby, with no idea how much time he'd be spending here or what the heck their lives would look like when that time came. They hadn't even talked about what exactly was going on between them right now, let alone what would happen when this baby came. Despite necessity keeping them together while he recovered, they still had their separate lives: her here, him at his condo.

"No," she said honestly, then smiling a little. "Not now. This is amazing, thank you." She walked back to him, fisting a bit of his button-up into her hand and tugging him close.

"It's nothing, I knew you were a little short on time here and I had a few days to kill. Plus you shouldn't be breathing in those fumes." His fingers pointedly grazed across the side of her belly before his hand landed on her waist.

She rolled her eyes at his overprotectiveness, but her grateful, awe-filled smile quickly returned as her eyes settled on him again. "It's not nothing," she said seriously.

Pushing up onto the tips of her toes, she captured his lips with hers, pulling him back down with her as her free hand cupped the back of his neck. His arms wrapped around her as he kissed her back, brows furrowing fervidly at the intensity with which her lips had met his.

With a bundle of emotions and the ever-present tension between them behind her actions, she deepened the kiss quickly and he tilted his head to change the angle. Her tongue brushed against his lip as his mouth crashed against hers, sending his skin aflame and his hands wandering. One pressed into the small of her back, one tangled into her hair, sweeping it up against the back of her head.

His knuckles brushed against her neck in the process, and the contact sent an unexpected rush through her that had her pressing her body into his. She tugged him close, gripping his collar for a moment before her fingers dipped beneath it in search of warm skin. As the tips of her fingers trailed over his collarbone until her palm could press against his skin, her teeth raked across his bottom lip before she cushioned it between her lips again. Her tongue dipped out to soothe the scrape and he groaned, pressing his weight into her until she gently but abruptly bumped into the doorframe. He pushed her up it a little, desperate to get his hands and lips closer to her skin as his hand trailed over her hip.

She instinctively lifted her leg, her thigh brushing against the outside of his as she rested her foot against the doorframe. His hand curved down over the underside of her thigh, which had a heated breath of approval escaping his lips but wasn't quite the bare skin he was searching for. His lips would fare much better at that, he realized, parting mouths to press his lips to her chin, then her jaw, slowly making his way down the base of her throat.

She turned her head for him, exhaling sharply when his lips closed over her pulse point and sucked, teeth scraping just slightly before he pressed a gentle kiss there. His hand grew a little bolder, fingers gliding over the crease where thigh met backside. When she let out a little noise of approval at the touch, Eric had to pull back a little, resting his forehead against her cheek.

"Calleigh," he let out – a warning – and swallowed hard. "You're gonna have to tell me when to stop, 'cause I just want to keep touching you."

She choked up a little at what his voice, his honesty did to her, both because it was adorable that he thought he needed to say it and because those words in that raspy voice were unintentionally but wholly her undoing. And now it was her turn to garner him defenseless, her knuckles smoothing over his hair while her other hand very resolutely found the first button of his shirt beneath his collar and pushed it through.

Lips close enough to brush the shell of his ear, she told him, "I don't want you to stop."

That and her wandering hands were all he needed to tip over the point of no return, his eyes dark and heavy when he pulled back to meet hers. She grinned mischievously as she pushed another button through, a little groan escaping his lips as his hand glided down her thigh and finally found bare skin where her dress ended.

"Better?" she asked playfully, two hands now making quick work of his shirt.

"You have no idea," he half-whispered, half-groaned as his fingers slid up her thigh until his palm splayed against the back of it.

She tugged his shirt free to reach the last buttons, her fingers smoothing over his toned abdomen the last conscious thought she had before his mouth crashed back against hers. Emotion and desire took control then, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull herself closer, his teeth tugging at her bottom lip as he pushed her up, supporting her weight beneath her thighs so that he wasn't pressing into her stomach too much.

She'd thought the grief had added an extra dose of desperation and need to their encounter before, but no. Apparently that was just her and Eric, coupled with five and a half years of bottled physical attraction under layers and layers of repressed feelings.

It was in a blur of lips and tongues and wandering hands that they stumbled into her bedroom, his shirt pushed off somewhere in the hall, her dress unzipped and pulled off the shoulder so he could press kiss after kiss to her collarbone. She laughed softly as he tried to tug it further, met with resistance just as he'd uncovered a rather sexy patch of black lace.

"You gotta go over the belly," she said, both of them smiling amusedly as his hand eagerly changed course and slipped beneath her dress again, bunching it up and up until he peeled it from her skin.

He urged her back until her legs bumped against her bed, then eased her down, lips finding hers and pulling kisses from her lips as his hands explored her skin.

"You're gorgeous," he mumbled against her lips, taking her in in the fading daylight. As his lips began a path south, her fingers raked through his cropped hair and cupped the back of his head. He smiled as he placed open-mouthed kisses against her skin, trailing down her chest and the valley between her breasts. He skipped over the lacy material for now to press a lingering kiss to the top of her stomach.

Calleigh grinned at the gesture, sending a fresh wave of overwhelming emotions coursing through her heart and mind that only made her want him more. Finding his belt, she tugged him back up to her, stealing a soft kiss before her lips completely melded with his. She pulled his body flush against hers, back here together in her room after nearly seven months.

This time, there wasn't a single excuse between them – no grief or sorrow to hide behind, no conditions or half-hearted promises to keep. Just eager hands, relentless lips, and thudding hearts, her body pressed beneath his as the receding daylight held out just a little bit longer for them, like they had all the time in the world.