A/N: I'm back again. Work has sucked my soul dry for over a year, giving me zero time or energy for things I enjoy, like writing. I'm working on The Idiot's Guide and Lilies of the Valley, and hopefully I'll have time to finish one or both of those next chapters before 2024 gets here. Oh! And I wrote a whole new story that's complete and I'll start posting it sometime soon.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter 6

"Stupid…freaking…goddamn—"

The last of a string of expletives became lost amid the ringing cacophony of a boot being tossed hard into a locker.

Calleigh winced, afraid to turn the corner. Please do not be mad. Please do not be mad…

She took a deep breath and rounded the bank of lockers to reveal Eric shoulder-slumped on the bench, feet spread wide and elbows on knees.

Spying her out of the corner of his eye, Eric tilted his head up to lock eyes with his partner, and Calleigh watched as chocolate turned to jet black. Her stomach dropped.

"What are you doing here?" he asked gruffly.

Calleigh sighed. Horatio promised her he wouldn't give her away; she thought H would have put a little more effort into concealing her role in pulling Eric off dive duty this afternoon.

"Listen, Eric…"

"Actually, save it, Cal," he held up a hand in her direction. "I'm not in the mood."

"I didn't mean…"

"No, I don't want to hear it. Just let me be mad at H," he huffed.

Mad at H? Shouldn't he be mad at me?

Carefully, Calleigh crossed the space between them and took the seat on the bench next to Eric.

"What happened?" she asked him warily.

Eric jerked his head toward her.

"You didn't hear? H pulled me from the dive." He tossed the other boot into the locker with disgust. "Two murders, billions in sunken treasure, and a sophisticated Colombian drug ring, and I have to stand on the deck and watch the Coast Guard bring in our haul."

Calleigh took her first deep breath since entering the locker room. Horatio kept his word; Eric had no clue she was the real reason he missed the dive. She reached a hand for his knee and gently squeezed.

"So y'all found something?" she tested the waters, not quite sure where and how to navigate the conversation without revealing her hand.

Eric began to nod but quickly stopped. Calleigh watched as his eyes slowly unfocused, and she squeezed his knee again.

"Talk to me, Eric. What's going on? I can see something's not right."

Eric dropped his head to his hands, rubbing his eyes as if he could drive away the dizzy feeling overtaking his senses if he just scrubbed them hard enough. It only made things worse, including his anger and exhaustion.

"I don't know, Cal. I—"

"Calleigh?" A deep voice sounded from the doorway to the locker room.

Both Calleigh and Delko's heads whipped up to see Detective Hagen approaching, both instantly recognizing his territorial stance. Calleigh felt her partner sway beside her and moved her hand from his knee to his lower back.

"Eric—" she began to say.

"I'm fine, Calleigh."

Calleigh knew Eric wanted to avoid the appearance of weakness in front of Hagen. She could grant him that. But this wasn't over, not by a long shot. So as Eric stood and closed his locker door, she said, "I'll track you down later. Horatio is out interviewing Marty Jones; he should be back soon."

Eric took one last look at Calleigh, and then peered at Hagen. The detective's eyes had darkened as he watched Calleigh worry over her best friend, and Eric didn't miss the shift of the energy in the room or the tension now lacing Cal's voice.

She gave him the most imperceptible of nods, which he returned, and then he left, taking a sense of uneasiness with him alongside the nausea rocking his stomach.

When Delko seemed out of earshot, Hagen surged forward, eyes and nostrils flaring. "What the hell was that all about, Calleigh?"

Indignation spread in Calleigh from tip to toe. He was jealous?

Never mind the fact that he had real cause to be jealous, for if Calleigh was honest with herself, she'd admit he did. Deep down, she knew how she felt about Eric.

But John Hagen already expressed his possessive streak once this week, and she'd be damned if he did it twice.

"Don't even go there." Calleigh's icy tone stopped Hagen in his tracks, and the fire in her eyes left him ducking his head.

"Look, Calleigh," he said, eyes gazing hesitantly into hers. "Your message ran out on my voicemail, but I got the gist."

Cal pivoted her back to the detective to spin the dial of her combination lock. She sighed. "I just can't believe you told Horatio I was hurt by an experiment."

"Relax," Hagen attempted to reassure her.

"I happen to know that 'relax' is cop speak for 'shut up,'" she whipped around to face him and fumed. "Look, all I am saying is, please don't tell anybody I am anything less than squared away on a case, alright?"

Instead of looking contrite, Hagen shook his head. "It was a nothing conversation in the elevator," he defended.

Calleigh refused to let him finish. "John…"

"Loud and clear," he relented. His tone sounded capitulatory, however, his eyes teemed with hostility.

She turned on her heel without another word and walked away, never hearing his laden sigh or seeing the frustrated hand he dragged across his face.

The further she walked away from John, the more her tension eased.

I have to figure this out, she thought to herself.

Eric's my coworker and a friend. I can't risk our friendship.

Calleigh shook her head. What am I doing? I'm dating another man and seriously considering this?

The shock hit her then. She was seriously considering this.

Eric Delko. The sometimes-man-child. The person she worked with day in and day out. The cause of most of her worry.

And...

The one who melted her insides and made her knees shake and her ears buzz.

Shit.