When the doorbell rang at exactly eight o'clock that night, Fisher had to physically stop himself from running full pelt to answer it. He slowly rose from the couch, punched a cushion back into place, and took a small swig from his beer bottle before placing it on the coffee table, and then padded to the front door.

"Engelson..."

The last syllable of her name died on his lips as Fisher took in the sight in front of him. Camille smirked flirtatiously at him as she leaned against the doorframe.

"Hey, Fishy," she drawled, holding out the pizza box she held as she ran her free hand through her tousled hair. "Hungry?"

Fisher reached out and wordlessly took the pizza from her hand, dropping it indelicately on the arm of the couch as he continued to take in every inch of the woman in front of him. She was clad in the denim cut-offs and his business shirt from their previous encounter, and once again, he could barely breathe at the sight of her. The look on Camille's face told him that his reaction was exactly what she was expecting. She slipped in through the doorway and closed the door behind her as Fisher took a few steps back to accommodate her.

"I left my phone at home tonight," Camille informed the detective. "I'm off duty. Kirsten and Cameron can figure themselves out."

Fisher chuckled as he felt himself relax slightly, and a genuine smile crept over Camille's features, accompanied by a hint of a blush. She took a small step forward.

"Take off your shirt," she murmured, and Fisher blinked at her in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Camille said plainly, and ignoring the way his heartbeat sped up, Fisher lifted his arms and yanked the mottled grey V-neck he was wearing over his head and tossed it to the floor.

"Better?" he rasped, and Camille made an affirmative noise as she stepped closer to him again, so that they were only inches apart. Deliberately avoiding Fisher's eyes, she reached forward and placed her fingers on one of his scars.

"What does it feel like?" Camille whispered, tracing her fingertips lightly over the scarred area. Fisher swallowed hard as he looked down at her, but Camille's eyes remained focused on his chest.

"Like fire is ripping through you," he murmured, his voice catching in his throat. "It burns, and then it's like all of the oxygen's been sucked out of the room, and you can't catch your breath no matter how hard you try."

Camille finally lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes burning with the kind of desire Fisher had been dreaming about all week long.

"Fisher," Camille whispered, her voice raspy, "I can't catch my breath."

"I think I can help with that," Fisher rumbled back, and finally, he put his hands on her, cupping her face as he drew her into the kiss they'd clearly both been anticipating. It was soft and chaste, their noses pressed together as they melted into each other's touch, but there was an immeasurable intensity to the motion that neither of them could deny. When they finally, reluctantly, broke apart, they both exhaled loudly, and Fisher stroked a thumb across Camille's flushed cheek.

"Wow," Camille breathed, her eyes sparkling. The corner of Fisher's mouth twitched upward.

"Pizza's going to get cold," he commented, and Camille smirked at him.

"The great thing about pizza is that it reheats really well," she grinned coyly, reaching up to link her wrists behind Fisher's neck as she placed her lips on his again. This time, the kiss took on a more fevered edge, their tongues waging war even as Fisher let out a rumbling groan against Camille's mouth. Fisher tangled his fingers in her hair, and Camille took the opportunity to hoist herself onto his body, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. Trailing his hands down her back, Fisher gripped her thighs as he helped support her weight. Camille buried her face in Fisher's neck for a moment before gently taking Fisher's earlobe between her teeth. Fisher practically saw stars at the sensation of her breath in his ear, but before he could think, her mouth was back on his. Even as the brunette nipped at his lower lip, Fisher rotated slightly and then by memory alone navigated them down the hallway and into his bedroom, where he delicately deposited Camille onto the bed. Camille gave him her best come hither eyes as she scooted backwards towards the headboard, her hands already working at the knot that tied her shirt together. She was everything Fisher had been dreaming about, and it was with great reluctance that he reached out to cover her hand with his own, stilling her fingers. Camille gave him a confused look.

"What gives, Fish?"

Fisher gritted his teeth for a moment before he spoke.

"Camille, I've been through a couple of messed up relationships," he stated gently, "but the thing is, I'm not really a one night stand kind of guy. If we do this, I need you to know... I'm invested. I'm not playing around."

He watched as Camille blinked at him for a moment, and then her features settled into an amused smile.

"Fisher, I have dedicated my every spare moment of the last few months to wearing you down," she quipped. "You really think I'd spend all that time just for a one night thing?"

It took Fisher a moment to process her words, but once he did, he barely hesitated in lunging forward to snare her lips with his own. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them over so that she perched on top of him. Together they made light work of the shirt she wore, and it was tossed quickly to the floor, revealing a red lacy bra that made Fisher's breath catch in his throat. He ran his hands appreciatively over the exposed planes of Camille's stomach. Now that he could, he wanted to touch every single part of her. Camille hooked her fingers into the belt loops of Fisher's jeans even as she leaned forward to kiss him again, and Fisher slid his hands further south so that he could curl his fingers under the ragged hemline of Camille's shorts. He had a whole new appreciation for the denim cut-offs that had spent so long hidden in the back of the closet. Fisher absently noted that both he and Camille were emitting tiny whimpers as they kissed, gasping for breath even as their hands roamed everywhere they could. Everywhere Camille's fingers touched felt like she was leaving a trail of fire in her wake, but this time it was the kind of burn that Fisher welcomed, and as long as Camille was to blame, he'd be happy to fight for every breath she stole away.

By the time they were done, they were both breathing like they were searching for any ounce of oxygen they could get. Falling back against his pillows, Fisher linked his fingers behind his head and then smiled to himself as Camille stretched out beside him, resting her chin on her hands. She had hair plastered to her forehead, and Fisher chuckled as he reached out and pushed the wayward strands off of her face, and then trailed his fingers down her cheek. Camille screwed her nose up at him as she smirked.

"You know Fishy, if I knew that's what you were capable of, I would have pushed for this much sooner," she quipped. Fisher rolled his eyes at her as he continued to trace his fingertips across her skin. He honestly could not get enough of touching her, and he was thankful that Camille didn't seem to mind. She reached out and ghosted her fingers over the light dusting of hair on his chest, and then smiled shyly at him.

"Did you really mean what you said?" she asked, her big brown eyes studying him cautiously. "No messing around?"

Fisher cupped her cheek in his hand, and Camille leaned into his touch.

"I'm too old to be playing games anymore, Engelson," he told her. "You... you're nothing like I thought, but at the same time, you're everything I need."

"It's crazy, but I understand what you're saying," Camille murmured back. "You're nothing like any of the guys I usually go for, but together, you and I, we're..."

"Just like fire," Fisher finished, his voice raspy. He'd felt it too, from the moment they'd first kissed; it was like an explosion went off with every touch, and he couldn't get enough of the adrenaline that fired through his veins every time his eyes met hers.

"Yeah," Camille smiled bashfully, tracing patterns on the sheets in front of her. Fisher beckoned her forward with a tilt of his chin, and Camille crawled slightly up the bed before rolling onto her side and resting her head on Fisher's shoulder. He couldn't help but lean forward to kiss her again, and Camille responded, their kisses quickly progressing from soft and gentle to fevered and hungry. Fisher manoeuvred himself so that he pinned her body underneath his, his large frame dominating over hers. Camille gave him a languid smile as she arched her hips up to meet his, and Fisher felt his breathing start to grow shallow.

"Baby, you are going to be the end of me," he murmured, and Camille reached up to tangle her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Together we burn," she whispered, and Fisher had to admit, it was an offer he couldn't refuse, so he simply silenced her with another kiss, and let the fire that raged between them consume them both.