Author's Note: This was written back over the summer for polybigbang on LiveJournal. Contains spoilers through early season six. Established Speed/Calleigh; eventual Speed/Calleigh/Eric, mentions of all ships in that (Speed/Calleigh, Eric/Calleigh, Eric/Speed). All of this has already been written and posted elsewhere online, I'm just now getting around to cross-posting it over here.
Dedicated to my amazing beta, who not only inspired this fic, but helped with quite a bit of the fact and canon checking. This is for you. =)
Warnings: Committed three-way relationship (eventually), mentions of character death, sexual themes.
Eric tossed and turned on the couch, clutching the thin blanket Calleigh had given him. No midnight tiptoe, she had told him. That had been the condition. He would spend the night at Calleigh's house, be protected from the people targeting the Cubans. With all of her guns, she probably had the safest house in all of Miami, so he was fairly certain if anyone tried to pull any funny business, she'd shoot them. In return, he couldn't snoop around. Fair enough.
The problem was, he couldn't sleep. Not for a lack of wanting, as he had not slept well the night before, and sleep sounded good. A welcome respite from everything that had been wearing on him.
From somewhere inside the house, he heard a strange noise. Was that moaning? Was Calleigh's…no, that wasn't the sort of moaning that a ghost would make. He smirked and turned over, casting his gaze on her carpet fibers. A part of him wondered who the lucky guy was. She didn't strike him as the sort to pick up a random guy from the club, and besides, considering the fact that they had gone out to dinner that night, she wouldn't have had the means or opportunity to do so. A friend of hers, perhaps? It was possible, but unlikely, he thought.
That left two possibilities in his mind: either their boss or their co-worker. Horatio or Speed. He got up from the couch and began pacing back and forth. Water. He needed water. Making his way blindly in the dark over to the kitchen, he fumbled around in the cupboards until he made contact with a glass. He turned on the sink tap and filled the glass halfway up with water, before leaning back against the counter and looking up at the ceiling. The moans were louder from here, he thought miserably, downing half the water in one solid gulp.
She was beautiful. Everyone in the lab knew it. When the sunlight caught her hair at the right angle, it was as though he was seeing pure gold in front of his eyes. And yeah, he was probably in love with her. From the sounds of it though, that love was forever doomed to stay locked in his dreams, only to make its presence known when he was fast asleep, never seeing the light of day, never knowing if anything could come of it. In silence, he finished off the glass, and set it next to the sink. He'd wash it later, when the thought of Calleigh having sex mere feet from where he was standing wasn't clouding his thoughts.
The curiosity was burning inside him. He had to know who the lucky guy was. Picking up the glass again, he smiled. Classic childhood technique, eavesdropping with a glass pressed against the door. Silently, he thanked Marisol for teaching it to him, and turning quietly and walking on tiptoe, he slunk out of the kitchen and down the hallway toward Calleigh's bedroom.
Calleigh felt like everything inside her was on fire, and she was at the melting point, ready to explode at any moment. With every brush of his lips on her skin, the temperature increased. She dug her fingernails into his back, as he thrust in and out of her, building her up to the inevitable. "You know how dangerous this is, doing this when Eric's sleeping on the couch, right?" she had said before they had gotten to this point, though the words only came back to her in a haze, almost as though she had never said them, or it had been an out-of-body experience. And he had just bowed his head to hers and all was forgotten in a delirium of joy and roaming hands.
From somewhere above her, or next to her, or nearby, she heard a faint scratching, like someone or something was scratching on wood. Looking upward into Speed's face, she smirked, and looped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the new position satisfying her very much. Scratching? What scratching? She had much more important things to worry about.
"Ohhh," she breathed out in a loud moan, as she felt his release enter her. "Tim."
There was a sudden shattering noise from outside her door, followed by the sound of footsteps leading away, as though the person was running, almost. Narrowing her eyes into slits, she quickly pressed her lips to his cheek in a kiss. "Hold on," she said angrily, wrapping a sheet around her waist and making her way toward the door. "I need to see what Eric is up to."
He lay back against her pillows, spent from their time together. "I'll be here when you get back," he said, giving her a wink.
Thrusting her bedroom door open and wrapping the sheet tighter around her, so that she wouldn't inadvertently give Eric a free peep show, she peered out into the hallway. "Damn it," she muttered, seeing one of her glasses laying in shattered pieces on the floor. "Eric!"
"Yes?" he replied from her couch, sleep coating his voice. "What is it?"
"Did you do this?" It wasn't so much of a question as it was asking him for a confirmation. A confirmation that he had decided to betray the promise he had made her earlier.
Eric mentally waged a war with himself. Either he could tell her the truth and she'd be mad at him, or he could lie, and she'd know that he was lying. He bit his lip and looked upward at the ceiling. "Calleigh…I…uh…" he stammered.
"You know what? Forget it, Eric. Go back to sleep. And no more midnight tiptoeing." She flipped on one heel and angrily stormed back into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Eric pulled the blanket over his head and sighed.
As he drifted back off to sleep, his dreams were filled with the loveliest images, filling in the mental blanks on what had gone on behind the closed doors of her bedroom. The odd thing, or what he perceived to be the odd thing, was that in his dreams, all three of them were there, together, and it wasn't just Calleigh having all the attention…
Calleigh walked back into the bedroom and flopped onto the bed, landing on both her mattress and Speed's arm at the same time. "How did it go with Eric?" he whispered, idly threading his fingers through her hair.
"He was eavesdropping," she said, expelling a sharp breath, and turned over to bury her face into his bare chest. "I told him, when he asked me, no midnight tiptoe, and he didn't listen."
"Did you ever consider?"
"Consider what?" she looked up at him and squinted.
"Inviting him in."
With a huff, she turned back over, her eyes gazing over the wall. "No," she replied, sighing deeply. "I didn't."
"Why not?" It was a simple question, two short words, yet, it was the most loaded thing he had ever asked her.
"I…don't want to talk about this right now," she said, throwing her head back against the pillow, slightly exasperated. "Can we talk about it tomorrow?"
"Calleigh, you're going to have to walk out there tomorrow and face him anyway."
"I said I don't want to talk about this right now." She firmly shut her eyes, willing herself to go to sleep. "Good night."
"Good night," he whispered, reaching over her to shut off her lamp light.
-to be continued-