The Miami Sofitel (10/?)
Title: The Miami Sofitel (10/?)
Author: SomewhereApart
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: PG13
Summary: After the events of "The Deluca Motel," Calliegh gives Eric an upgrade.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine
Calleigh was in heaven. In perfect, blissed-out heaven. And to think it had all happened because of a somewhat awkward conversation in the break room over lunch that afternoon. She’d been in there alone, heating up a Lean Cuisine from her emergency lunch stash, with every intention of scarfing it down and then heading back to her lab to work on her backlog of evidence. And then Eric had strolled in, realized they were alone, and tried to cage her against the countertop for a few stolen kisses.
“Eric, no,” she’d insisted, evading his grasp. “Not at work.”
“We’re alone. No one can see.”
“Someone might walk in,” she’d pointed out, grateful when the microwave dinged and gave her something to busy herself with. “And besides, all we ever do is… Ow! Damnit! Ow!”
She’d been carrying her lunch to the table, the plastic tray so hot she’d had to bobble it to keep her fingers from burning. “It’s not all we do,” Eric had defended, swiping a Lean Cuisine for himself without asking - but when did he ever? “I mean, we’ve only been dating for what? Two, three days? I don’t think we’ve had enough time for ‘all we do’ yet.”
“This isn’t dating. People who are dating go on actual dates.” She’d taken the fork he handed her and stirred her lunch, trying to avoid being scalded by steam. “And we’ve had a lot of sex in those two-three days. There’s more to a relationship than what goes on in the bedroom.”
Eric had plunked down next to her and reached out for her free hand, threading their fingers. “Let me take you to dinner tonight. Somewhere decent - an actual date. And afterward, we’ll just go back, rent another movie, just… be together. No sex.”
She had smiled, but ducked her head slightly, not meeting his eyes when she told him, “Dinner sounds nice, but I was actually thinking I might take a bath tonight. Our tub has whirlpool jets.”
“Yeah, I saw those. I don’t suppose you want company?”
She’d let out a chuckle, shaken her head. “How quickly he changes his mind about ‘no sex.’”
“I can behave myself!” he’d insisted, laughing at her and giving her fingers a squeeze before letting go. “Promise.”
“Mm.” She’d lifted her first bite, blown on it to cool it a little before turning a teasing grin in his direction. “Your track record in this area says otherwise, Mr. Delko.”
“Well, Ms. Duquesne, why don’t you let me work on that. In the bathtub.” He’d given her those puppy-dog eyes she was such a sucker for, and she’d relented with a sigh.
“Fine. Dinner, and a bath, then maybe a movie before bed.”
“Deal.” He’d actually offered his hand and had her shake on it.
True to his word, they’d had Italian at La Loggia after work, and he’d somehow managed to talk her into sharing tiramisu for dessert and getting an order of cannoli to go. “For the movie,” he’d told her, and she’d relented because they’d looked delicious.
Now they were tucked into the bath, jets sending the water around them into a bubbling frenzy. Her back was against his chest, legs tangled with his under the water, and the steam that had fogged the mirror and hung in the air was just beginning to make her sweat. She didn’t mind. In fact, she was pretty sure there wasn’t much she could possibly mind right now, not with the way his strong hands were kneading into her shoulders, thumbs stroking up along the nape of her neck, then back down and out along her shoulders, in and up, out and down, over and over.
“God, this feels…” He found a particularly tight spot and she moaned softly and squirmed. She wasn’t surprised when she felt a soft rush of his breath along her neck. They’d agreed on no sex, and here she was all moaning and writhing. Not her fault, though. He always did give the best massages. “Mm. Can you do this for me every day?”
“You this tense every day?” he murmured over the whirr of the bubbles. He was using what she’d come to consider his bedroom voice, low and soft. She liked it, liked that she was the one who got to hear it, finally.
“Yeah, lately,” she sighed, tipping her head forward slightly as he worked up her neck again. “Unfortunately.”
“You need to learn to relax,” he drew the word out as his thumbs dragged hard in parallel lines down her neck.
“Well, I don’t exactly have a stress-free job, Eric. Can you… right here?” Calleigh gestured to the curve right where her neck met her left shoulder, groaning softly when he pressed in deep circles. “Yeah… Ow…”
He let up just a hair. “Good ow or bad ow?”
“Good.” The pressure eased back in and Calleigh took a deep, slow breath as a low throb of pain radiated out from under his thumb.
“Yeah, you’ve got a big knot right here. Want me to stay for a while?”
“Mmhmm.”
“If it hurts too much, let me know.” When she nodded, he paused for just a second, and she felt him press a soft, wet kiss to the opposite side of her neck. His thumb began its slow, firm circles again as his lips coasted up to the side of her neck. She turned her head slightly to give him more room, but it just made a streak of pain lance through the knot he was trying to work out.
Calleigh grimaced and nudged his head away gently. “Hurts to move my head like that.”
He apologized quietly, and for a few long minutes, the only sounds in the bathroom were the jets and Calleigh’s slow, deep breaths. Finally, he eased off her shoulder, leaving it looser but just a little sore. He ran his palm over it in a slow, soothing stroke, then cupped both her shoulders and slowly eased her forward. When his thumbs began to dig in slow circles along her spine, she brought her knees up to she could rest her elbows on them and let her body go as loose and lax as possible. This was heaven. Cloud-nine, Philadelphia-cream-cheese-commercial heaven. In fact, it was so much heaven that she barely heard him when he spoke up a moment later - she had to ask him to repeat himself.
“I said, ‘why lately?’”
She’d have furrowed her brow if he hadn’t just found another sweet spot. “Why lately what?” she gasped, biting her bottom lip gently. Ugh, heaven. She was trying to think of another word, but… no. Just heaven.
“You said you’ve been tense all the time lately.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss at the top of her spine, the wash of his breath against her damp skin making her shiver. “Why?”
Well, there went heaven. “Just… have been.”
“Calleigh.” His hands were under the water now, rubbing against the base of her spine. “Talk to me.”
“I… I’ve just…” She sighed heavily, rolled her shoulders just a little when she felt herself tensing reflexively. “I’m sorry, I’m not great at… talking. I’m more of an internal-processing kind of gal. You know that.”
“I do,” he agreed as he pressed another kiss on her shoulder. “I also know you’re tense, and I’d bet that you’ve been having trouble sleeping. You held on awfully tight a few nights ago.”
Looked like she had to eat her words about trusting his decency to let that slide. “Eric…”
“You can trust me, Calleigh.”
“I know.”
“So… trust me.” His palms coasted up her back again, waist to shoulder, sluicing warm water over her. “Talk to me.”
With a heavy sigh, she nodded, ignored the curl of anxiety in her gut. She’d been trying to muscle through on her own, for the most part, and talking to Eric meant opening the door to talking again. To leaning on him. To needing him. That was a dangerous road to go down. But she felt another kiss on her shoulder, another soft press of lip, and she knew if there was anyone in her world who deserved to be the one she leaned on it was Eric. So, okay. She’d trust. She’d talk. She’d… “I guess it started with… Well, Jake left. Back in March. Didn’t say anything, just… stopped answering his phone. And I knew. I mean, I figured. He’d gone back under. And that, the not knowing… that was stressful, and being - essentially - dumped without warning was stressful. And right after that was when I got kidnapped and I just… I haven’t…” Shit. No. Shit. Damnit! She felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” Her voice was beginning to waver. Crap. Crap. This was exactly why she didn’t want to have this conversation, exactly why she’d changed the subject on Alexx that day they’d had lunch to catch up.
“That was, what? Eight months ago. You haven’t been able to sleep for eight months?”
He was all concern and comfort, and it just made her ache harder. Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, she shook her head. “No. Just... off and on. There was… I guess, for the first month or so, yeah, I had trouble. Dreams. But then it got better. And then everything happened with Horatio and the faked shooting, and Jake breezed back in and left again. For good. I told him I wouldn’t wait for him. To be honest, I’d had feelings for you for a while, and I wanted to give us time to grow without… Waiting was too hard, and too limiting, so I told him I wouldn’t.”
She’d gotten her voice back under control, and then he had to go and murmur, “That must have been hard.” His support and sympathy, despite the resentment she knew he’d always had for Jake, made the tears well again, no matter how hard she tried to blink them back.
“Yeah.” Her voice was weak, cracking slightly mid-word. “It was just… lonely. God, Eric, I was so lonely. And then I read your file, and I thought maybe that would go somewhere, maybe we would go somewhere now that Jake was out of the picture. But I wasn’t sure if you would feel the same now that I was… attainable.”
He scoffed slightly, and wrapped his arms around her, easing her back to his chest again. “Calleigh, even with Jake gone, you were never attainable. Never seemed that way, anyway. I always felt like you were way out of my league.”
“I’m not,” she insisted quietly, settling her arms over his and tilting her head so the slight stubble of his chin rested against her smooth brow. “I’m right in your league. I promise, I -“ She cut off, swallowed hard against another rush of inexplicable tears. “I hate feeling like this,” she whispered, just harsh enough for him to hear her over the bubbles.
“Like what?’
“Overwhelmed. Out of control.” She wiped furiously at the tears that had begun to spill down her cheeks, but with her wet hands, she really only succeeded in making things worse. “Ever since William Campbell died, I… I can’t sleep. I can’t get to sleep, or I have dreams. I wake up shivering, cold sweat, and I feel so alone. And I just want someone to be there, and there never is.” Words were tumbling from her now, quick and building, an avalanche of pent-up emotion. “I should have had him, Eric. My hand was sweaty, and I wasn’t strong enough, and he was looking me in the eyes and holding my hand and then he was dead, and I… there was nothing I could… I just…”
His arms tightened around her, held her close as she hitched a short sob and bit down hard on her lip to try to pull herself together. He shushed her softly, rocked her gently. “It wasn’t your fault, Cal. You know that.”
“I know, but it still feels like it was.”
“Don’t get mad at me for asking this, but did you ever get your post-incident counseling? We were both supposed to have a meeting with a department shrink, remember?”
Calleigh shook her head quickly, shifting onto her side and tucking her head beneath his chin. The water bubbled over her shoulder, along her neck, but she didn’t mind. In fact, right now she wished it would bubble even higher, wanted to sink under. Wanted to escape the gnawing twinge of misery that was eating at her, wanted to hear the riot of bubbles around her instead of the racing of her own heart. “I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, and then we got so busy, and... You know how it is. It was an optional evaluation. I didn’t want it.”
“I think you need it.” One of his arms was still clutched around her, but the other lifted so his fingers could trace the hair off her face, tuck it behind her ear. “You need to talk to someone.”
“I’m talking to you.”
“Someone who can really help,” he corrected, dotting kisses along the top of her head.
“You help. Just by being here, you help.” Her fingertip traced a pattern along his shoulder, his chest. “I haven’t slept this well in ages.”
“I’m not going to be around every night, Cal. You need to talk to someone.” She started to cut him off, but he forged ahead. “I didn’t want to either when I first had to go, but it’s been good for me. Just talking to someone who is neutral, who doesn’t have a history with you, who doesn’t have any expectations. I know it makes you uncomfortable, opening up - especially to a stranger - but… Do it for me, okay? Just go to one session. If nothing else, tell them you can’t sleep, and see if they’ll prescribe you something. You’ll at least be able to get some rest.”
“You’re just saying that, because you think it will get me to go, and then I’ll start talking and have some grand epiphany,” she accused gently, and he didn’t bother to deny it. Just kissed her again, tightened his hold on her.
“I’m saying it because I love you, and when you hurt, I hurt.” Warm fingers rubbed down over the back of her neck and up again, threading into her hair. “Just think about it. And stop holding back; you’re practically vibrating. Let the tears come, Calleigh. You’ll feel better.”
She tried to open her mouth to tell him that fine, she’d go to one meeting - one meeting - with the department shrink, but no she would not become a blubbering mess right now. Apparently her over-tired, over-worked, over-stressed body had other ideas, though, because all that came out was a harsh sob. And then another, and another, and before she knew it, she was clinging and crying, and being held and rocked and petted and soothed until the tremors had subsided and she was left quiet and spent. Purged.
Eric urged her from the tub and dried her off, wrapping her in a fluffy hotel towel before pouring her into bed. She was asleep almost before she hit the pillow.
Author: SomewhereApart
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: PG13
Summary: After the events of "The Deluca Motel," Calliegh gives Eric an upgrade.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine
Calleigh was in heaven. In perfect, blissed-out heaven. And to think it had all happened because of a somewhat awkward conversation in the break room over lunch that afternoon. She’d been in there alone, heating up a Lean Cuisine from her emergency lunch stash, with every intention of scarfing it down and then heading back to her lab to work on her backlog of evidence. And then Eric had strolled in, realized they were alone, and tried to cage her against the countertop for a few stolen kisses.
“Eric, no,” she’d insisted, evading his grasp. “Not at work.”
“We’re alone. No one can see.”
“Someone might walk in,” she’d pointed out, grateful when the microwave dinged and gave her something to busy herself with. “And besides, all we ever do is… Ow! Damnit! Ow!”
She’d been carrying her lunch to the table, the plastic tray so hot she’d had to bobble it to keep her fingers from burning. “It’s not all we do,” Eric had defended, swiping a Lean Cuisine for himself without asking - but when did he ever? “I mean, we’ve only been dating for what? Two, three days? I don’t think we’ve had enough time for ‘all we do’ yet.”
“This isn’t dating. People who are dating go on actual dates.” She’d taken the fork he handed her and stirred her lunch, trying to avoid being scalded by steam. “And we’ve had a lot of sex in those two-three days. There’s more to a relationship than what goes on in the bedroom.”
Eric had plunked down next to her and reached out for her free hand, threading their fingers. “Let me take you to dinner tonight. Somewhere decent - an actual date. And afterward, we’ll just go back, rent another movie, just… be together. No sex.”
She had smiled, but ducked her head slightly, not meeting his eyes when she told him, “Dinner sounds nice, but I was actually thinking I might take a bath tonight. Our tub has whirlpool jets.”
“Yeah, I saw those. I don’t suppose you want company?”
She’d let out a chuckle, shaken her head. “How quickly he changes his mind about ‘no sex.’”
“I can behave myself!” he’d insisted, laughing at her and giving her fingers a squeeze before letting go. “Promise.”
“Mm.” She’d lifted her first bite, blown on it to cool it a little before turning a teasing grin in his direction. “Your track record in this area says otherwise, Mr. Delko.”
“Well, Ms. Duquesne, why don’t you let me work on that. In the bathtub.” He’d given her those puppy-dog eyes she was such a sucker for, and she’d relented with a sigh.
“Fine. Dinner, and a bath, then maybe a movie before bed.”
“Deal.” He’d actually offered his hand and had her shake on it.
True to his word, they’d had Italian at La Loggia after work, and he’d somehow managed to talk her into sharing tiramisu for dessert and getting an order of cannoli to go. “For the movie,” he’d told her, and she’d relented because they’d looked delicious.
Now they were tucked into the bath, jets sending the water around them into a bubbling frenzy. Her back was against his chest, legs tangled with his under the water, and the steam that had fogged the mirror and hung in the air was just beginning to make her sweat. She didn’t mind. In fact, she was pretty sure there wasn’t much she could possibly mind right now, not with the way his strong hands were kneading into her shoulders, thumbs stroking up along the nape of her neck, then back down and out along her shoulders, in and up, out and down, over and over.
“God, this feels…” He found a particularly tight spot and she moaned softly and squirmed. She wasn’t surprised when she felt a soft rush of his breath along her neck. They’d agreed on no sex, and here she was all moaning and writhing. Not her fault, though. He always did give the best massages. “Mm. Can you do this for me every day?”
“You this tense every day?” he murmured over the whirr of the bubbles. He was using what she’d come to consider his bedroom voice, low and soft. She liked it, liked that she was the one who got to hear it, finally.
“Yeah, lately,” she sighed, tipping her head forward slightly as he worked up her neck again. “Unfortunately.”
“You need to learn to relax,” he drew the word out as his thumbs dragged hard in parallel lines down her neck.
“Well, I don’t exactly have a stress-free job, Eric. Can you… right here?” Calleigh gestured to the curve right where her neck met her left shoulder, groaning softly when he pressed in deep circles. “Yeah… Ow…”
He let up just a hair. “Good ow or bad ow?”
“Good.” The pressure eased back in and Calleigh took a deep, slow breath as a low throb of pain radiated out from under his thumb.
“Yeah, you’ve got a big knot right here. Want me to stay for a while?”
“Mmhmm.”
“If it hurts too much, let me know.” When she nodded, he paused for just a second, and she felt him press a soft, wet kiss to the opposite side of her neck. His thumb began its slow, firm circles again as his lips coasted up to the side of her neck. She turned her head slightly to give him more room, but it just made a streak of pain lance through the knot he was trying to work out.
Calleigh grimaced and nudged his head away gently. “Hurts to move my head like that.”
He apologized quietly, and for a few long minutes, the only sounds in the bathroom were the jets and Calleigh’s slow, deep breaths. Finally, he eased off her shoulder, leaving it looser but just a little sore. He ran his palm over it in a slow, soothing stroke, then cupped both her shoulders and slowly eased her forward. When his thumbs began to dig in slow circles along her spine, she brought her knees up to she could rest her elbows on them and let her body go as loose and lax as possible. This was heaven. Cloud-nine, Philadelphia-cream-cheese-commercial heaven. In fact, it was so much heaven that she barely heard him when he spoke up a moment later - she had to ask him to repeat himself.
“I said, ‘why lately?’”
She’d have furrowed her brow if he hadn’t just found another sweet spot. “Why lately what?” she gasped, biting her bottom lip gently. Ugh, heaven. She was trying to think of another word, but… no. Just heaven.
“You said you’ve been tense all the time lately.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss at the top of her spine, the wash of his breath against her damp skin making her shiver. “Why?”
Well, there went heaven. “Just… have been.”
“Calleigh.” His hands were under the water now, rubbing against the base of her spine. “Talk to me.”
“I… I’ve just…” She sighed heavily, rolled her shoulders just a little when she felt herself tensing reflexively. “I’m sorry, I’m not great at… talking. I’m more of an internal-processing kind of gal. You know that.”
“I do,” he agreed as he pressed another kiss on her shoulder. “I also know you’re tense, and I’d bet that you’ve been having trouble sleeping. You held on awfully tight a few nights ago.”
Looked like she had to eat her words about trusting his decency to let that slide. “Eric…”
“You can trust me, Calleigh.”
“I know.”
“So… trust me.” His palms coasted up her back again, waist to shoulder, sluicing warm water over her. “Talk to me.”
With a heavy sigh, she nodded, ignored the curl of anxiety in her gut. She’d been trying to muscle through on her own, for the most part, and talking to Eric meant opening the door to talking again. To leaning on him. To needing him. That was a dangerous road to go down. But she felt another kiss on her shoulder, another soft press of lip, and she knew if there was anyone in her world who deserved to be the one she leaned on it was Eric. So, okay. She’d trust. She’d talk. She’d… “I guess it started with… Well, Jake left. Back in March. Didn’t say anything, just… stopped answering his phone. And I knew. I mean, I figured. He’d gone back under. And that, the not knowing… that was stressful, and being - essentially - dumped without warning was stressful. And right after that was when I got kidnapped and I just… I haven’t…” Shit. No. Shit. Damnit! She felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” Her voice was beginning to waver. Crap. Crap. This was exactly why she didn’t want to have this conversation, exactly why she’d changed the subject on Alexx that day they’d had lunch to catch up.
“That was, what? Eight months ago. You haven’t been able to sleep for eight months?”
He was all concern and comfort, and it just made her ache harder. Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, she shook her head. “No. Just... off and on. There was… I guess, for the first month or so, yeah, I had trouble. Dreams. But then it got better. And then everything happened with Horatio and the faked shooting, and Jake breezed back in and left again. For good. I told him I wouldn’t wait for him. To be honest, I’d had feelings for you for a while, and I wanted to give us time to grow without… Waiting was too hard, and too limiting, so I told him I wouldn’t.”
She’d gotten her voice back under control, and then he had to go and murmur, “That must have been hard.” His support and sympathy, despite the resentment she knew he’d always had for Jake, made the tears well again, no matter how hard she tried to blink them back.
“Yeah.” Her voice was weak, cracking slightly mid-word. “It was just… lonely. God, Eric, I was so lonely. And then I read your file, and I thought maybe that would go somewhere, maybe we would go somewhere now that Jake was out of the picture. But I wasn’t sure if you would feel the same now that I was… attainable.”
He scoffed slightly, and wrapped his arms around her, easing her back to his chest again. “Calleigh, even with Jake gone, you were never attainable. Never seemed that way, anyway. I always felt like you were way out of my league.”
“I’m not,” she insisted quietly, settling her arms over his and tilting her head so the slight stubble of his chin rested against her smooth brow. “I’m right in your league. I promise, I -“ She cut off, swallowed hard against another rush of inexplicable tears. “I hate feeling like this,” she whispered, just harsh enough for him to hear her over the bubbles.
“Like what?’
“Overwhelmed. Out of control.” She wiped furiously at the tears that had begun to spill down her cheeks, but with her wet hands, she really only succeeded in making things worse. “Ever since William Campbell died, I… I can’t sleep. I can’t get to sleep, or I have dreams. I wake up shivering, cold sweat, and I feel so alone. And I just want someone to be there, and there never is.” Words were tumbling from her now, quick and building, an avalanche of pent-up emotion. “I should have had him, Eric. My hand was sweaty, and I wasn’t strong enough, and he was looking me in the eyes and holding my hand and then he was dead, and I… there was nothing I could… I just…”
His arms tightened around her, held her close as she hitched a short sob and bit down hard on her lip to try to pull herself together. He shushed her softly, rocked her gently. “It wasn’t your fault, Cal. You know that.”
“I know, but it still feels like it was.”
“Don’t get mad at me for asking this, but did you ever get your post-incident counseling? We were both supposed to have a meeting with a department shrink, remember?”
Calleigh shook her head quickly, shifting onto her side and tucking her head beneath his chin. The water bubbled over her shoulder, along her neck, but she didn’t mind. In fact, right now she wished it would bubble even higher, wanted to sink under. Wanted to escape the gnawing twinge of misery that was eating at her, wanted to hear the riot of bubbles around her instead of the racing of her own heart. “I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, and then we got so busy, and... You know how it is. It was an optional evaluation. I didn’t want it.”
“I think you need it.” One of his arms was still clutched around her, but the other lifted so his fingers could trace the hair off her face, tuck it behind her ear. “You need to talk to someone.”
“I’m talking to you.”
“Someone who can really help,” he corrected, dotting kisses along the top of her head.
“You help. Just by being here, you help.” Her fingertip traced a pattern along his shoulder, his chest. “I haven’t slept this well in ages.”
“I’m not going to be around every night, Cal. You need to talk to someone.” She started to cut him off, but he forged ahead. “I didn’t want to either when I first had to go, but it’s been good for me. Just talking to someone who is neutral, who doesn’t have a history with you, who doesn’t have any expectations. I know it makes you uncomfortable, opening up - especially to a stranger - but… Do it for me, okay? Just go to one session. If nothing else, tell them you can’t sleep, and see if they’ll prescribe you something. You’ll at least be able to get some rest.”
“You’re just saying that, because you think it will get me to go, and then I’ll start talking and have some grand epiphany,” she accused gently, and he didn’t bother to deny it. Just kissed her again, tightened his hold on her.
“I’m saying it because I love you, and when you hurt, I hurt.” Warm fingers rubbed down over the back of her neck and up again, threading into her hair. “Just think about it. And stop holding back; you’re practically vibrating. Let the tears come, Calleigh. You’ll feel better.”
She tried to open her mouth to tell him that fine, she’d go to one meeting - one meeting - with the department shrink, but no she would not become a blubbering mess right now. Apparently her over-tired, over-worked, over-stressed body had other ideas, though, because all that came out was a harsh sob. And then another, and another, and before she knew it, she was clinging and crying, and being held and rocked and petted and soothed until the tremors had subsided and she was left quiet and spent. Purged.
Eric urged her from the tub and dried her off, wrapping her in a fluffy hotel towel before pouring her into bed. She was asleep almost before she hit the pillow.