This is my first published CSI: Miami fic. I've been working on the csi_bigbang over at Livejournal and I decided that it'd be nice to dabble in some CSI: Miami before I actually get my story published over there. So this story is completely unrelated to that. It will be more than a chapter long, provided that it's popular enough, though it is capable of standing on it's own. I would prefer to keep it going, but I'll see how you guys like it and we'll go from there.
You may notice that I've promoted Calleigh from an Officer to a Sergeant. Now, I'm not all that familiar with police rankings, but I do believe that for her to be in charge of her own shift, aptly named the "Swing" shift because I believe that's how they referred to Catherine's shift in CSI? Where she was in charge of changover between days and nights? That she should need to be promoted. Either way, that's what Calleigh's new position will be. If anyone reads this and finds it blaringly obvious that she shouldn't be a sergeant, please let me know. I know that it's likely not a big deal. I just thought, after near to seven years of being Horatio's under-study, she deserved a little promotion. So, no flames if that's wrong! I'm perfectly aware that it might be.
Even so, this is set not long after the current season. So consider future events as irrelevant and this is a sort of alternate fork in the road, type story. Or whatever floats your boat.
Also, chapter titles are based on the length of Calleigh and Eric's relationship.
Leaning back into the sofa as the credits for the movie both of them had likely slept through, rolled up the screen. Calleigh smiled contentedly as she played with Eric's toes. His feet were rested in her lap and his head had long ago, rolled back over the armrest. She wasn't quite sure if he was awake, but she smiled regardless, at the domesticity of the moment. Three years ago, she couldn't have even been paid to imagine this moment. Then she chuckled lightly and decided that if she'd been given a fair amount of time to think about it, she probably could have pictured it or something like it.
"What's so funny?" Eric asked, not moving his head or opening his eyes and Calleigh pinched his big toe lightly, making him flinch and laugh a little.
"Nothing really," She finally answered. "-just thinking."
Eric sat up on the sofa, pulling his legs up a little to make himself more comfortable before grabbing her foot, that was tucked up underneath her and dragging it into his lap to massage it. She grinned as she saw him notice the ruby red nail polish and when he gave her a look, that came with a raised eyebrow included, she simply mimicked his expression and gestured for him to keep on massaging.
They sat there in silence for some time. Calleigh flicked off the TV and the DVD player and they sat there listening to the ocean, that was nearly a block away, but sounded like it was just outside when the back door was open and the night was so quiet. And Eric found himself watching Calleigh's face and how her wide smile slowly slipped away to make room for a look of complete and utter concentration.
He watched her reach for the neatly wrapped bag on the coffee table and smiled as she started to quietly take apart it's contents and lay them across her lap. He watched her as she removed the barrel from her favourite 9mil and pop out the clip, setting it gently on the coffee table before setting out her cleaning tools.
He never thought he'd get used to the sight of a woman relaxing with a foot massage whilst cleaning her favourite gun, but never really thought he'd get used to being so intimate with Calleigh of all people either, and that had been a remarkably fool-proof transition for the both of them. So he supposed this wasn't so strange an occurance, considering she was Calleigh Duquesne afterall. What relaxed other women, what made other women happy, weren't necessarily the things that made her happy so he smiled and fated himself to simply watching her, revelling in the way she'd twisted her hair and made it fall over one shoulder, how the light from the kitchen cast shadows across her face and how the glow on her tanned yet still incredibly fair and firm skin made him want to kiss it.
He watched as she sucked in her bottom lip and he fought against the sudden start he felt, when she broke the silence. "Eric?"
"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse, but he hoped she'd chalk that up to the quiet and how much of Sense & Sensibility he'd slept through.
"You told me once, that you wanted kids." She was still looking down at her gun and he smiled, because he knew she wasn't going to look up at him, not for a conversation like this.
"Yeah, I do." It wasn't a question he ever had to think about. He wanted kids, plain and simple. He'd have a whole brood of green-eyed, dark-skinned, blonde-haired babies if she wanted them.
Her voice dropped a little lower. "Do you want to have them with me?"
He stopped massaging her foot and let his hands rest on top of it in order to emphasize what he was about to say. "Cal, what kind of a question was that?" She'd never doubted their relationship, never wondered where it was going and as soon as the words left his mouth, he realised what he really should have asked instead. "Wait, Cal, are you? I mean, you're not-"
She laughed almost humourlessly and he gripped her foot a little tighter as she stopped cleaning her gun in order to meet his eyes. Her's were shimmering only slightly and he had to fight the urge to envelope her in a massive hug, right there and then. This train of conversation was going somewhere and he had a feeling that he was milliseconds away from witnessing it's climax.
"No, I'm not." She clarified, running her thumb over the gun as she mulled over her next words, not for a moment letting her eyes drop from his. "But I think I want to be."
He didn't quite know what to say. There was nothing more he wanted in the world, than for his children to look like her. But regardless of how much he wanted it, he never thought that it'd come about this way. "But," He cleared his throat, looking towards the blank, expressionless TV in order to gather his thoughts. "-but I thought you'd want to get married first."
"Is that important to you?"
"Well," He studied her and how the sheen had all but disappeared from her eyes and been replaced by her determined yet warm gaze, patiently waiting and hoping for his aquiescence. "-no."
"It's never been all that important to me, Eric. We can get married if you want, if we want. But I think I'm at a time in my life when i'm ready for this. I'm nearly forty, Eric, and i've been thinking about it. Horatio's promoting me to run swing shift and your wages aren't being garnished anymore. I think we can do this, Eric and I'm sure now that I want to do it with you."
"You're absolutely sure?"
Setting her gun on the coffee table, Calleigh pulled her feet from his lap and crawled towards him on the couch, resting herself on his lap and straddling his waist in order to meet his eyes. "I want this, Eric." She breathed, resting her hands on his chest. "I really want this."
He looked for all the world, as though he was considering it, weighing up the pros and cons in order to give her the best, most rational answer. But in truth, he'd been hoping that she was going to tell him she was already pregnant, so that he could be done with the waiting and the hoping and the trying and they could start straight with the excitement. He was just trying to process exactly what this all meant.
"Well," He grinned, resting his hands on top of hers against his chest. "-I never thought we'd decide on having a baby while you were cleaning your gun." He smirked and a great wave of relief seemed to flood out of her and she relaxed against him, letting her body sink into his as she laughed.
"It clears my head." She defended and he smiled, kissing her forehead.
"So," She breathed. "We're going to do this."
"Only if you promise to find better places to hide your guns by the time she's barrelling around on all fours."
Calleigh raised her eye-brow. "She?"
"Girl first. I know I complain all the time, about having older sisters. But I don't think I'd ever want it to be the other way around."
Calleigh laughed and kissed his lips gently. "I don't quite think it works that way. But you can hope for your girl and I'll just hope for a baby, of either variety."
"So diplomatic, Sergeant Duquesne." He teased.
"Gah, that still sounds so weird." Calleigh giggled, burying her face in his shirt.
"Yeah, I'm still not used to it." He laughed as he pushed her up off his chest so that he could climb up from the couch. Standing beside her, he held his hand out to her before grasping hers and pulling her to her feet. "So," He waggled his eyebrows and turned towards the bedroom door for a moment, before looking back at her. "-best get this started." He smirked cheekily and she rolled her eyes.
"You're just excited you're getting more sex out of this."
"And far too honest to lie about that fact, so," He tugged on her hand. "-off we go."
She just laughed out loud as she let him pull her towards the bedroom, leaving her half-cleaned gun and his dirty coffee mug on the table as he pushed her into the bedroom with his lips locked tightly with hers and kicked the door closed behind him.
I also want people to know that I'm writing this as a sort of homage to my sister. She's due to give birth within the month and I've spoken to her many times regarding her choice to stay unmarried. I'm proud of this fact and proud of my sister for stepping up and telling us all that this is HER baby. So I'm trying to reflect that respectful tone in this story. I believe that in order to have a family, you don't need to be married. In order for Calleigh and Eric to love each other and love their children, marriage, while lovely, is not all together the most important thing. I think their strong enough in themselves, to feel that way. Calleigh in particular, i think. And so in a way, Calleigh represents my sister here. (Just incase you had any questions as to why i've done this this way.)