FIC: Return Gently at Twilight Ch. 3 [CSI: Miami; Calleigh/Eric]
TITLE: Return Gently at Twilight, Chapter 3
AUTHOR: WhatBecomesOfYou
FANDOM: CSI: Miami
PAIRINGS: Eric/Calleigh
PROMPT: Haunting
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 1144
SUMMARY: One long night at the lab, a ghost is lurking around, and old memories are brought to the surface.
SPOILERS/WARNINGS: Anything through the end of season seven is fair game.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Title taken from a poem by TS Eliot. Set sometime after the end of season seven, but no real timeline given. There will be two more chapters after this. Thanks for all of the reviews and positive feedback on the story so far, and hope you enjoy the new chapter! Written for paranormal25 on LiveJournal.
The footsteps continued, echoing down the hallway, heading toward them. Eric’s arm found itself looping around Calleigh’s waist, pulling her closer to him. A slight whimper emitted from Calleigh’s throat, her large eyes scanning the room. She had been trying to tell herself all night long that there was a perfectly rational reason for everything going on, that they were scientists and everything could be explained using logic, but a part of her wondered… “No, Calleigh, don’t be silly,” she whispered to herself. “There is no such thing as ghosts.”
A loud crash came from behind her, and she turned around to see Natalia holding up her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” Natalia said with a sheepish grin and a slight shrug of the shoulders. “I knocked into the chair, and it fell over.”
Calleigh glared, and turned back to Eric. “Practically gave me a heart attack,” she said softly.
“I’ll protect you, Cal,” Eric said, looking down at her, with a protective gleam in his eyes. “Even from Natalia and her innate ability to knock chairs over without even trying.” This earned him a glare from Natalia, who spun around and left the room.
The two of them stood there, listening as the clatter of Natalia’s shoes went in the opposite direction as the mysterious set of footsteps was coming from. Casting uneasy glances at each other, Calleigh peeked out into the hallway. “Is anyone there?” she asked, tentative and scared. From the shadows, just beyond the lights of the hallway, she saw someone move. “H? Ryan? Is that you?”
“Don’t worry, Calleigh, it’s me,” Horatio said, stepping out of the shadows and removing his sunglasses, tucking them into a shirt pocket. “I suppose there’s no need to wear these this time of night.”
“You don’t know how happy I am that it’s you, H,” she replied. “I thought it was…never mind.”
“Mr. Wolfe?”
“Yeah, we’ll go with that,” she replied, exhaling slightly. “Better than the alternative,” she thought with mild amusement. “No need to bring up tonight’s events if I don’t have to.”
“Well, I’ll let you get back to work,” he said, smiling and walking away, down the hallway from where he had come from. She yawned and smiled back at him, walking back into the room.
From down the hallway, in the darkness of night, punctuated solely by a thin beam of light, a man stood stoically, arms folded, watching the conversation between Horatio and Calleigh unfold.
As Horatio walked down the hallway, he put his sunglasses back on. “Force of habit,” he murmured, realizing after he had already put them on that there was a tell-tale blotch, a small speck of dirt on one lens. Removing them discreetly, he rubbed the lens with the tail of his shirt, and when he believed himself to be satisfied, he held them up in front of him in order to see if he had fully removed the spot, catching a dim ray of light from a nearby office.
In the reflection of the lens, he saw a man standing right behind his shoulder, a face he hadn’t seen in years. A face that he shouldn’t be seeing ever again, except in his own memories and picture frames. He turned around, expecting to see, against all odds and logic, the person in the reflection.
Instead, he saw empty hallway, not a trace of any other living being around. It must have been his imagination, he thought, narrowing his eyes and walking off. Seeing things.
Natalia threw herself against the bank of lockers in the locker room, huffing slightly, Eric’s words still ringing in her ears. It had been one of the strangest shifts of her entire career, and from the looks of it, it wouldn’t be over any time soon. She buried her head in her hands, gently massaging her forehead. A rush of cool, clean air flowed through the room. She wrinkled her nose. It didn’t make sense for the air conditioner to randomly be kicking in this time of night.
She heard a clank and a faint scrape, almost as though someone was opening the door of one of the other lockers. “Hello?” she called out softly, not wanting to raise her voice too loud. “Is anyone there?”
At the lack of reply, she called out again, standing up and furtively searching around the room, scanning everything within eyesight. “Is anyone there? Who are you?” When there was still no reply, she began walking, cautiously tiptoeing, to prevent the wrong person from hearing her.
A locker door was open on the other side of the room, and she glanced over at it. “Was that open when I came in here?” she asked out loud, under her breath. She made her way over, taking steps two at a time, and peeked inside. Her eyebrows rose when she saw something very familiar lying on the locker shelf. “Isn’t that Calleigh’s crime scene light?” she thought, glancing at the name on the door, ensuring that Calleigh hadn’t accidentally left it in her locker and forgotten about it. The last name was too short to be Duquesne, she could tell that much. So much for that theory. On closer examination, she could make out the last name, still etched into the nameplate as firmly as the day it was done.
She mentally noted the last name, and walked out of the locker room, aiming herself for the general direction of Calleigh and Eric. One mystery of the night solved. Now if they could only say the same for their cases, or the mystery of what was going on.
Calleigh stared out the window, watching the clouds move slowly against the sky, illuminated by the light of the moon. She pressed her forehead against the window pane and let out a slight yawn. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly, turning around and facing Eric. “I didn’t mean to yawn.”
“It is fine,” he said, walking over closer to her. “It’s a waiting game at this point anyway.”
She nodded, mentally debating the merits of brewing a fresh batch of coffee. “Eric?” she asked, looking over at him. “Are you interested in -“
Natalia cut her off, marching in the room, a proud smile on her face. “I found your crime scene light, Calleigh,” she said. “It’s in the locker room.”
“What’s it doing there? Where was it?”
“I don’t know what it’s doing there; I didn’t want to disturb the evidence so I came and got you before touching it.”
“Horatio would be so proud, Natalia,” Eric teased.
Both Calleigh and Natalia let out a slight laugh. “No, seriously, where in the locker room was it?” Calleigh asked, as the three of them made their way back toward the locker room. She feared she knew the answer already, but she waited for confirmation.
“Speedle’s locker.”
-to be continued-
AUTHOR: WhatBecomesOfYou
FANDOM: CSI: Miami
PAIRINGS: Eric/Calleigh
PROMPT: Haunting
RATING: PG
WORD COUNT: 1144
SUMMARY: One long night at the lab, a ghost is lurking around, and old memories are brought to the surface.
SPOILERS/WARNINGS: Anything through the end of season seven is fair game.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Title taken from a poem by TS Eliot. Set sometime after the end of season seven, but no real timeline given. There will be two more chapters after this. Thanks for all of the reviews and positive feedback on the story so far, and hope you enjoy the new chapter! Written for paranormal25 on LiveJournal.
The footsteps continued, echoing down the hallway, heading toward them. Eric’s arm found itself looping around Calleigh’s waist, pulling her closer to him. A slight whimper emitted from Calleigh’s throat, her large eyes scanning the room. She had been trying to tell herself all night long that there was a perfectly rational reason for everything going on, that they were scientists and everything could be explained using logic, but a part of her wondered… “No, Calleigh, don’t be silly,” she whispered to herself. “There is no such thing as ghosts.”
A loud crash came from behind her, and she turned around to see Natalia holding up her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” Natalia said with a sheepish grin and a slight shrug of the shoulders. “I knocked into the chair, and it fell over.”
Calleigh glared, and turned back to Eric. “Practically gave me a heart attack,” she said softly.
“I’ll protect you, Cal,” Eric said, looking down at her, with a protective gleam in his eyes. “Even from Natalia and her innate ability to knock chairs over without even trying.” This earned him a glare from Natalia, who spun around and left the room.
The two of them stood there, listening as the clatter of Natalia’s shoes went in the opposite direction as the mysterious set of footsteps was coming from. Casting uneasy glances at each other, Calleigh peeked out into the hallway. “Is anyone there?” she asked, tentative and scared. From the shadows, just beyond the lights of the hallway, she saw someone move. “H? Ryan? Is that you?”
“Don’t worry, Calleigh, it’s me,” Horatio said, stepping out of the shadows and removing his sunglasses, tucking them into a shirt pocket. “I suppose there’s no need to wear these this time of night.”
“You don’t know how happy I am that it’s you, H,” she replied. “I thought it was…never mind.”
“Mr. Wolfe?”
“Yeah, we’ll go with that,” she replied, exhaling slightly. “Better than the alternative,” she thought with mild amusement. “No need to bring up tonight’s events if I don’t have to.”
“Well, I’ll let you get back to work,” he said, smiling and walking away, down the hallway from where he had come from. She yawned and smiled back at him, walking back into the room.
From down the hallway, in the darkness of night, punctuated solely by a thin beam of light, a man stood stoically, arms folded, watching the conversation between Horatio and Calleigh unfold.
As Horatio walked down the hallway, he put his sunglasses back on. “Force of habit,” he murmured, realizing after he had already put them on that there was a tell-tale blotch, a small speck of dirt on one lens. Removing them discreetly, he rubbed the lens with the tail of his shirt, and when he believed himself to be satisfied, he held them up in front of him in order to see if he had fully removed the spot, catching a dim ray of light from a nearby office.
In the reflection of the lens, he saw a man standing right behind his shoulder, a face he hadn’t seen in years. A face that he shouldn’t be seeing ever again, except in his own memories and picture frames. He turned around, expecting to see, against all odds and logic, the person in the reflection.
Instead, he saw empty hallway, not a trace of any other living being around. It must have been his imagination, he thought, narrowing his eyes and walking off. Seeing things.
Natalia threw herself against the bank of lockers in the locker room, huffing slightly, Eric’s words still ringing in her ears. It had been one of the strangest shifts of her entire career, and from the looks of it, it wouldn’t be over any time soon. She buried her head in her hands, gently massaging her forehead. A rush of cool, clean air flowed through the room. She wrinkled her nose. It didn’t make sense for the air conditioner to randomly be kicking in this time of night.
She heard a clank and a faint scrape, almost as though someone was opening the door of one of the other lockers. “Hello?” she called out softly, not wanting to raise her voice too loud. “Is anyone there?”
At the lack of reply, she called out again, standing up and furtively searching around the room, scanning everything within eyesight. “Is anyone there? Who are you?” When there was still no reply, she began walking, cautiously tiptoeing, to prevent the wrong person from hearing her.
A locker door was open on the other side of the room, and she glanced over at it. “Was that open when I came in here?” she asked out loud, under her breath. She made her way over, taking steps two at a time, and peeked inside. Her eyebrows rose when she saw something very familiar lying on the locker shelf. “Isn’t that Calleigh’s crime scene light?” she thought, glancing at the name on the door, ensuring that Calleigh hadn’t accidentally left it in her locker and forgotten about it. The last name was too short to be Duquesne, she could tell that much. So much for that theory. On closer examination, she could make out the last name, still etched into the nameplate as firmly as the day it was done.
She mentally noted the last name, and walked out of the locker room, aiming herself for the general direction of Calleigh and Eric. One mystery of the night solved. Now if they could only say the same for their cases, or the mystery of what was going on.
Calleigh stared out the window, watching the clouds move slowly against the sky, illuminated by the light of the moon. She pressed her forehead against the window pane and let out a slight yawn. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly, turning around and facing Eric. “I didn’t mean to yawn.”
“It is fine,” he said, walking over closer to her. “It’s a waiting game at this point anyway.”
She nodded, mentally debating the merits of brewing a fresh batch of coffee. “Eric?” she asked, looking over at him. “Are you interested in -“
Natalia cut her off, marching in the room, a proud smile on her face. “I found your crime scene light, Calleigh,” she said. “It’s in the locker room.”
“What’s it doing there? Where was it?”
“I don’t know what it’s doing there; I didn’t want to disturb the evidence so I came and got you before touching it.”
“Horatio would be so proud, Natalia,” Eric teased.
Both Calleigh and Natalia let out a slight laugh. “No, seriously, where in the locker room was it?” Calleigh asked, as the three of them made their way back toward the locker room. She feared she knew the answer already, but she waited for confirmation.
“Speedle’s locker.”
-to be continued-