For a while now, I've wanted to write a set of fics for season three, based on the idea that Tim might not have died in Lost Son. And for some reason, 10-7 was the episode that struck me first. So this is a missing scene for 10-7, based around the idea that Tim was alive and well for that. Nothing recognizable belongs to me.

To an outsider, it was just an ordinary day in the lab.

Just an ordinary day it was, the hallways filled with the excited chatter of those close to closing a case, the dejected and sometimes angry words of those who'd lost a case, and the general sounds of all the machines within the crime lab. All together, it was a cacophony of sound, though over the years it had long since faded into the background, becoming little more than white noise to Tim, a part of his everyday life.

Today, however, it all resonated within his ears. As he made his way down the crowded hallway, one destination in mind, Tim could barely hear himself think over the general noises of the lab coupled with the deafening echo of his heart in his ears. As his destination grew nearer and nearer, Tim vaguely wondered if he might lose his hearing.

And then, as soon as he stepped inside the doorway of her lab, all became quiet.

Her eyes were glued to the screen before her as the computer searched for something; from his distance, Tim couldn't discern what. Her posture suggested that she was a woman who had everything under control; her shoulders weren't slumped and her back was straight. Nonchalantly she tossed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, letting it flutter over the back of her pristine white lab coat with the rest of her golden locks.

To an outsider, this was typical Calleigh Duquesne, perhaps hot on the trail of a cold-blooded killer, just waiting for confirmation from the computer before making an arrest.

But today, that wasn't the case, and Tim most certainly wasn't an outsider. From where he stood just inside the glass-paneled walls, he could see the tiny nuances that gave away the depth of her true discomfort. He could see the occasional tap of her foot on the floor below. He could plainly see the very faint creasing of her forehead, revealing every bit of her unease to Tim, while many others might construe it as deep concentration. And though he couldn't see it, he knew she was nibbling anxiously at her lip, the first nervous gesture of hers that he'd learned.

Tim knew her mind was completely distracted when she didn't even acknowledge him as he entered the lab. It was nearly impossible to sneak up on Calleigh, due to her impeccable awareness of everything around her. And yet, she hadn't even heard him come in.

She remained unaware even as Tim stood behind her, watching the screen in front of her with interest. He still wasn't sure what she was doing, but it seemed that somehow she was trying to find the person who'd wanted to kill her, even though she'd never seen them. It baffled Tim; how did she even know what kind of gun it was?

Unconsciously he lay a hand on her shoulder, but as soon as he did, Tim wished he had thought that tiny motion through first. Startled, Calleigh tensed beneath his touch, only barely keeping herself from jumping. Mentally Tim kicked himself; he'd always known he was never going to win any awards for his tactfulness, but he should've at least known better than to sneak up on her like that, after the day she'd had.

If today had been proof positive of any one idea, it was that even Calleigh wasn't infallible all the time.

Soothingly he moved his hand to her back, rubbing in gentle circles as he took a step closer to her. "Calm down," he coaxed, flinching. He prayed that those words hadn't sounded as patronizing to her ears as they had to his own. "It's just me, Cal," he finished quietly, feeling her body gradually relax under the soothing touch of his hand over her back. He continued rubbing her back, hoping to reassure not only Calleigh, but himself as well.

For the first time, Tim had truly realized what it must have been like for her, all those months ago. They hadn't been together then, but he knew that his getting shot, for a second time, had really shaken her. And today, he had been the one shaken.

There hadn't been a frantic rescue call, and Calleigh hadn't actually been shot or rushed code three to the emergency room, as had been the case for Tim. He had merely heard the news from Eric in the elevator earlier, after it had all been done and over with.

"Hey, man, did you hear?" Eric asked, his thumb pressing the button for the lab.

Normally, Tim might've scoffed and made some sarcastic comment. Usually, when those five words left Eric's lips, it meant he'd gotten his hands on some interesting – or so he thought – workplace gossip. But this time, those words carried no hint of amusement. In fact, Eric sounded almost angry, protective. No smile adorned his lips, and no playful sparkled decorated his eyes. And this time, Tim couldn't help being curious; Eric was completely serious about something. "Hear what?" he asked, lifting a brow curiously.

Eric shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Some bastard put a gun to Calleigh's head today," he said darkly.

If ever there were any words that made Tim's blood run cold, those were them. "What?"

"Yeah." The contempt in Eric's voice was only barely held back. "We were at the scene together, and I went outside to look for the missing knife. I guess somebody snuck in or something while I was outside." He paused for a moment, remembering how rattled Calleigh had been. "Next thing I know, I'm heading back inside to tell her I found the knife, and when I open the door, there she is. I almost walked straight into the barrel of her gun."

If Tim hadn't been so bothered, he might've smirked. "I guess it's a good thing you didn't startle her, then."

Eric shook his head. "I didn't need to. She was already pretty shaken. She actually even asked me if I would ever put a gun to her head."

Tim leaned against the side of the elevator, trying harder than he thought he'd need to in order to keep calm. "She didn't see who it was?"

"She told me she never saw him." Eric paused for a moment, suddenly feeling a bit guilty. "And I didn't see anybody at all. There was nobody around."

Staring fixedly at the floor, Tim wrinkled his brow in concentration. Why would anybody threaten Calleigh like that? And who? Certainly Calleigh had enemies – it was part of being a cop – but most of them were behind bars and would be for quite some time. And she hadn't mentioned anything in the past year about her having a scuffle with anybody. Anybody could have threatened her. But who could've gotten to her at the crime scene without being seen by anybody?

By no means was Tim a violent person. He didn't even like to wield his own gun, mostly for obvious reasons, but even before his two mishaps, he hadn't liked to use his gun. He'd be the first to say he preferred the lab over being exposed out in the field any day. But despite all that, Tim couldn't help but want five minutes alone with the jerk who'd threatened Calleigh.

"Hey, man, you okay?" Eric asked cautiously, slightly worried over the dark look in Tim's eyes. While easily annoyed, Tim barely ever showed more than that. Emotions he tended to keep to himself; Eric rarely saw him truly angered, truly upset. But the fire in his eyes now, as well as his clenched fists as his sides, belied the extent of Tim's anger. "Speed?"

Shaking his head, Tim brought himself back to the present, just as the elevator stopped. "Where is she?" he asked in a would-be nonchalant voice, ignoring Eric's question. He wasn't okay, not by a long shot, but he didn't particularly want to share that, not even with his best friend.

Eric gave a shrug. "Knowing her, she's probably still locked up in ballistics."

And that was where Tim had found her, her eyes locked on the screen before her, her body as tense as he'd ever seen her. Squinting his eyes at the computer screen, he tried to discern what exactly she was looking for, what the computer was scanning for. But even with a better look he remained unsure. "What are you doing?" Tim asked, softly rubbing her back in smooth circles.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Calleigh let out a deep sigh. Ever since she'd come back from the scene, she'd been slightly jumpy, and she hated it. Part of her even wanted to take the rest of the day off, for she knew a bit of relaxation at home would do her a world of good. But that wasn't even an option. She was perfectly fine; there was no reason for her to feel any less than that. Despite having a gun to her head, she'd come out unscathed.

Calleigh hadn't been the one who'd ended up in the hospital for two weeks after taking a bullet. No, that person was the one standing behind her, his hand gently stroking her back. He'd nearly died, and yet, here Calleigh was feeling jumpy after being threatened, but not hurt in any way. The realization sent a slight wave of guilt through her, but even she had to admit that she couldn't control her body's involuntary responses.

Twisting her neck just enough to flash a quick, forced smile at Tim, Calleigh gestured to the screen in front of her. "I'm waiting for Valera to page me with some results on a different case. In the meantime," she paused, resisting the urge to take a deep breath. "In the meantime I'm trying to figure out who would want to put a gun to my head."

By now, the news wasn't surprising to Tim, but even so, hearing it from Calleigh, and so bluntly too, sent a block of ice hurtling into his stomach. "Yeah, Delko told me about that earlier," he said quietly, lifting his hand from her back to softly smooth out her pristine blonde locks. "Are you okay?"

Every word he spoke was touched by pure concern. But even true concern could not stop the flash of annoyance that his question sparked in Calleigh. Closing her eyes, she bit her lip to keep from lashing out at him. She knew he meant well, but hadn't she dealt with enough concern today? She just didn't want to be fussed over; why didn't anybody get that? Even so, Calleigh gave a quiet sigh, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "I'd be better if people would stop asking me that."

Tim gave a slight smirk; that had been exactly the response he'd expected. He closed the tiny bit of distance that remained between them, enough so that Calleigh could fully rest her head against his torso if she wished. With a slight quirk of his lips, he lay both of his hands on her shoulders. "Well, unlike everybody else, I have the right to ask," he said. "So you can't get mad at me."

Calleigh leaned back, happy to let Tim's skillful fingers work their magic over her tired, tense muscles. "But it's okay if I'm mad at everybody else?" she drawled, shivering as Tim's hands moved over a particularly tense muscle.

"As long as it's not me, then you can be pissed at whoever you want," Tim quipped. Calleigh smirked, and Tim lowered his head, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. "So tell me something," he continued, once more serious. "How do you plan on finding this jerk?"

Calleigh smiled, relieved to be able to focus on something technical, even if only for a short moment. "From the make and model of his gun, of course. Eric helped me identify the gun earlier," she replied, her voice quiet but calm. "It's a rarer gun, so I'm looking through the database to see if there are any registered here in Miami. Not that that really means anything definitive, but it's a start." She paused, glancing down at her hands momentarily. "And it's all I've got."

Even though she'd done a fine job concealing it, Tim could still hear the distress in her last statement. He knew he should say something, anything. But what could he say? He knew that even if the gun was registered, there was still a slim chance that the actual owner of the gun would be the one to put it to her head. If Tim was going to put a gun to anybody's head, there was no way he would use his own gun.

But then again, criminals usually weren't as smart as the criminalists. There was always a chance that Calleigh would get lucky. And as he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, that was what he told her. "There's always a chance. How did you and Delko even identify it anyway?"

It was an innocent question, but Tim frowned as he felt Calleigh tense once more. She shifted slightly, somewhat grateful that Tim was standing behind her. She didn't have to look him in the eye as she answered. But that still didn't make reliving it any easier. "From the clicks, Tim. He – he didn't just put the gun to my head. He actually cocked it…"

Her voice faltered, and Calleigh could feel Tim squeeze her shoulders just a little tighter as her mind brought back those unwelcome memories from earlier in the day. It was all she could do to keep from groaning; she just wanted to forget the entire ordeal.

But the harder she tried to forget, the more vividly the images stood out in her mind, forcing her to relive the morning, again and again. She could still see the square-shaped void in the dust. She remembered the way it had piqued her interest; immediately her mind had gone to work as she tried to imagine what could have been there. But then, her concentration was abruptly broken by the feel of cold metal against the back of her head. Outside, she remained calm, knowing that one sudden move could end her life a second sooner. Though she was alarmed, Calleigh had forced her breathing to remain even. The only indication that she knew she was in imminent danger was in the way she slowly closed her emerald eyes, bracing herself for the end.

It was an end that never came, though, and while that should've comforted her, it only upset Calleigh that much more. She was second-guessing everybody; anybody could've held that gun to her head. But mostly, she'd begun second-guessing herself for losing track of her surroundings.

Calleigh let out a deep breath, refusing to lose herself down that pathway."But it's good, though," she said, forced reassurance in her voice, though whether she was trying to comfort herself or Tim, she didn't know. She could feel the way her recounting of earlier events was affecting him; it was plain in his fingers as he rubbed her shoulders "Otherwise, I'd find a needle in a haystack before I ever found the right gun."

Her words did nothing to reassure him, though. "That's like saying it was good that there was an ambulance within a block of the jewelry store that day," he said darkly, recalling the day he'd taken a bullet right to the chest. "Maybe that was helpful in the long run, but it was hardly good, because I still didn't clean my gun. I still got shot. I still spent two weeks in the hospital, in so much pain that I wished I had died."

"God, Tim, why do you say things like that?" Calleigh whispered, anguished. Her body shuddered, and she forced herself to keep her eyes open, not wanting to close them and see him unconscious in the hospital, just barely hanging onto the nearly shredded threads of life."You almost did die. I'm fine. It's not the same."

Tim let out a deep breath, for the moment glad that he was behind her. It was discomforting enough to know that Calleigh could see his eyes reflected in the computer screen if she tilted her head the right way; he couldn't handle her gazing directly at him right now. "I don't care if he did help you by cocking the gun; I don't care if that can help you identify it. It's not good. You still had a gun to your head, and you still could've died."

There was a tiny note of fear in his voice, a realization that floored Calleigh. Tim was impassive most of the time; he didn't show emotion, at least not at work. At home, he was a different person, but this wasn't home. This was work, and Calleigh was surprised to hear her Tim mixing with CSI Tim.

Lifting a surprisingly steady hand, Calleigh gently lay it atop one of his hands, over her left shoulder. "I'm fine, though," she said quietly, gently squeezing his hand. "You're fine. I'm fine. That's what matters now."

Tim didn't reply at first, instead allowing a moment to pass in silence. She was correct, technically. He was fine, but it had taken months for him to get there. It had taken time; he hadn't just walked away from the scene like nothing had happened. And while Calleigh hadn't been shot, Tim doubted that she'd walked away emotionally unscathed. "Are you fine?" he asked quietly, gently challenging her response.

Tim would be the first to admit the surprise that came over him as Calleigh responded. For a moment, she was silent, and Tim thought perhaps she'd chosen to ignore him. Wouldn't be the first time she ignored something she didn't want to face. But as the seconds stretched on, he felt her let out a slow, deep sigh, and with his eyes he saw the slightest slump of her shoulders as she let part of her guard down. "I…I will be," she replied quietly, staring down at her hands.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she felt Tim's fingers once more begin a relaxing, kneading motion over her shoulders, a deeper massage than what he'd been doing just moments before. But this time, his fingers were met by a troubling resistance, elevating his concern just that much more. "You sure?" he asked quietly, a frown upon his lips. "You're so tense."

Calleigh let out a deep sigh. "I guess…I'm still kind of shaken up," she admitted, almost wishing that Tim would stop talking, not just so she could stop recounting what had happened, but also so she could lose herself completely in his touch. He was right; she was tense, but she had no doubt that a few moments more of his skilled fingers working over the knots in her shoulders would take care of that.

"To be honest," Tim began, the lowest of chuckles rumbling in his throat, "I'd be concerned if you weren't shaken by that." Every day they worked with death, and sometimes it became difficult to not see it as just that – an everyday occurrence. It was essential that they not grow to desensitized to it, that they remain human. And if Calleigh had walked away from having a gun to her head with a smile on her lips and her usual spring in her step, then the first thing he would've done was whisk her out of the lab and take her away from work. Two weeks, three, a month – it didn't even matter that Tim had no sick days left himself; he would refuse to let Calleigh, his Calleigh, fully disappear behind the tough, emotionless façade that she adopted around everyone else.

Calleigh was silent, and somehow Tim knew that she was contemplating the same fear that was running through his own mind. Squeezing her shoulders, he decided to change the subject. "Do you, uh, want to go get a coffee or something?" he asked, knowing just how strange the suggestion sounded coming from his own lips.

Calleigh chuckled. "You don't drink coffee," she reminded him, a slight twinge of amusement coloring her words.

"No," Tim agreed. "But I'll buy you a cup. With lots of sugar. Just the way you like it."

It was a tempting offer; Calleigh couldn't deny that. But she knew there was no way she could let herself leave the lab until she found out who had wanted to kill her. She knew that she might be opening a door she couldn't close, but she still had to know. She gave a deep sigh, honestly feeling bad about turning down Tim's offer. He was only trying to help. "Maybe later," she murmured. "I really just…" she struggled with the words; it made sense in her mind, but as she tried to explain it to Tim, she found it wasn't nearly as easy.

But somehow, Tim knew exactly what she meant without her having to say it. "You need to find that piece of mind," he answered for her. "You just need to know. Even if it doesn't do any good, you still just need to know."

Calleigh nodded slowly, slightly amazed at how well he could read her. "Yeah. If I don't figure out who it was, it's going to haunt me forever."

Tim understood that, but still, he couldn't help but worry for her. "Just be careful though," he warned softly, his skilled hands increasing the pressure just a tiny bit on her tense shoulders. "Finding out who it was, finding out why they did it – that might haunt you too, maybe even more."

Closing her eyes, Calleigh contemplated the truth of his words. What could she do? Tim had a point; knowing could be just as detrimental as not knowing. Once she found out, she couldn't go back if it turned out to be something she didn't want to know. But if she let go right now, just the fact that she didn't know would eat at her relentlessly. "So what do I do?" she asked quietly, more to herself than to Tim.

"I don't know, babe," Tim replied softly, one of the rare times he allowed such an endearment to leave his lips at work.

For a moment, they lapsed into a comfortable silence, broken only by the working computer in front of them. Tim could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she weighed the choices, the consequences of each. He could feel it in her shoulders; the thoughts were making her even more unsettled. A block of guilt dropped into his stomach; that had been the last thing he wanted to do when he said what he'd said. Softly, he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Can I do anything to help?"

"You are helping, Tim," Calleigh remarked, slowly rolling her stiff neck. "Just don't stop what you're doing anytime soon, okay?" she quipped, the slight smile on her lips audible in her voice.

Tim smirked, momentarily drawn back to the very first time his hands had worked their magic over the knotted muscles in her shoulders, her back. The softness of her skin beneath his fingers had tantalized him, and it wasn't long before Tim's lips had joined his fingers along her shoulders and over her back, before his simple, innocent massage developed into something a little less simple, a little less innocent…

The memories fresh in his mind, Tim lowered his head, dropping a lingering kiss to her temple. "Feel good?" he murmured, his lips brushing tentatively over her ear as he spoke.

Calleigh gave a soft, appreciative moan. "God yes," she mumbled, feeling as Tim slowly drove the tension right out of her shoulders, out of her body. Tim had always been so good with his hands. She heard him snicker slightly at her response, and Calleigh couldn't help but roll her eyes at herself. She'd wanted to lose herself in his touch, and she'd very nearly accomplished that.

To her slight dismay, Tim's hands left her shoulders, though they didn't move very far. Before she could protest, Calleigh felt his fingers threading through her hair. Gently he brushed the silky blonde locks over her shoulders, his fingers ghosting along her neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake before he released her hair, allowing it to cascade flawlessly over her back.

The moment was perfect, but all too quickly it was gone. His fingers were back on her shoulders, and once again, the low tones of his voice were echoing in her ears. "So what exactly happened out there?" he asked, repressing the urge to take a seat next to her. As badly as he wanted to be able to look into her eyes, Tim knew that as long as he was behind her, Calleigh would be more comfortable talking to him. That was just how Calleigh was; it wasn't that she didn't trust him, it was just that dealing with emotions wasn't something she did easily with anybody. And plus, behind her, he could further comfort her with the slow, deliberate motions of his hands.

Calleigh breathed out slowly, settling back into Tim's touch. "I don't know," she murmured, shaking her head just slightly. "I mean, I've gone over and over it in my head, but I…I just don't know. How could I not have realized somebody was behind me?" She paused to nibble at her lip, and Tim could feel her exhale slowly, once again. "I noticed something; a void in the dust. Something was missing from the scene," she began shakily, not fully understanding what was pulling her to tell him this. She was perfectly fine with keeping the events of today to herself, but somehow, Tim made her want to open up to him.

The feel of his hands on her shoulders gently coaxed her into continuing, into trusting him implicitly. "I kneeled down to look at it, and I set my scale down and lifted my camera to my eyes. I took a few pictures of the void, and I guess that was when I let my guard down, because I never heard anybody walk up behind me. I never heard anything."

Tim's touch faltered momentarily. Was that guilt that he heard in her voice? She could've been killed, and yet, she was feeling guilty? No evidence had been compromised, and she was okay, though shaken. The only explanation Tim could come up with was that she was guilty for failing herself. As she'd said, she felt as though she'd let her guard down, like she'd not been concentrating like she should've been. But the scene was secure; how was she ever supposed to know to be on the lookout for someone who might want to kill her? Up until that point, it had merely been an ordinary crime scene; nothing special about. Tim wasn't completely sure about a lot of things, but he knew that Calleigh was being far too hard on herself. He opened his mouth, needing to tell her as much, but Calleigh continued with her story before he could ever get the words to his lips.

"Suddenly, I feel metal pressing against the back of my head. I heard the clicks, and all I could do was close my eyes and wait for the blow. But it just…never came."

She chose not to elaborate on that which she'd seen as she was waiting for death's door to open for her. In that moment, the void was gone. The crime scene was gone. In her mind she saw not the many potential faces of the man holding the gun; she saw not the potential make and model of that gun, knowing that soon it would be no use to her.

What she saw was everything she was leaving behind; what was cruelly being taken away from her.

Early mornings spent lying in bed with Tim, sometimes silently, sometimes with quiet words about days past or the days ahead. Spending those mornings snug in his warm embrace as they watched the sun's rays slowly chase the last vestiges of darkness from the room. Shared rides into work, spent not grumbling over the Miami traffic, but playfully arguing over each other's choice of radio station. All the lunches and dinners she had shared with him; some of which were happy, and some of which were more subdued, due either to a frustrating case or Tim's naturally quiet demeanor. All the exquisite evenings and nights shared with him, whether it be merely watching a movie together on the couch, or giving up her tightly-held control to him as they made love. Falling asleep in his arms as she realized how lucky she was; how badly she wanted to hold onto these moments forever.

Her life had flashed before her eyes, and it was in that moment that Calleigh realized something.

Sometime during the past year, Tim had become her life.

It wasn't supposed to happen like that, though. She was supposed to be in control of her feelings, her emotions. Things were supposed to happen on her own time, by her own direction. Calleigh wasn't supposed to be caught off-guard like this. She'd known she was getting closer and closer to Tim, but she had almost lost him. But even with that first kiss, the first time he'd taken her to dinner, the first time she'd asked him to stay the night…had she been in denial the entire time? Had he charmed her into falling for him, without her even realizing it until she'd had a gun put to her head, threatening to rip everything away from her?

She'd let down her guard for him. She'd let him see sides of her that she was comfortable showing to no one else. It felt just vastly wrong if she went to bed at night without him, or woke up in the morning without him. But that didn't mean she was ready to let herself fall for him, did it?

That had always been the rule she'd abided by. She wasn't supposed to fall in love with anybody until she was ready to fall in love.

But maybe…maybe you are ready. Maybe you've been ready.

And, surprisingly, the idea didn't frighten her. It enticed her.

That was what scared her – the idea that letting herself fall so completely for this man didn't scare her anymore. It made very little sense to her mind, but sure enough, Calleigh could feel the tension overtake her once more, flowing back into her muscles as though it had never left.

She couldn't help it; she didn't want to run. She hadn't wanted to run from him since the beginning. But suddenly, this was just all too much. She was finding it difficult to catch her breath. Before she could rationalize it; before she could stop herself, Calleigh stood, her shoulders immediately feeling the chill left in the absence of his hands. Impulsively, she reached out, hitting a single button on the keyboard in front of her, stopping the search. In the split-second that her apprehension had accosted her, she'd also discovered that this was a truth she couldn't handle right now after all.

Vaguely she heard Tim's voice behind her, laced with confusion and concern, but it was all Calleigh could do to hear it over the pounding of her heart in her ears. "I, um, I need to go see if Eric found anything useful; I told him I'd check back with him about an hour ago," she muttered, forcing away all thoughts of love for now. She needed some time to process everything, and for now she needed to get back to work.

But before she could get away without another word, Tim gently caught her hand, stopping her in her tracks. Looking at him, Calleigh realized that Tim wasn't the only one who'd been allowed to see what was hidden beneath the surface. Everyone saw Tim's indifferent, nonchalant exterior; everyone heard the dry, sarcastic tone that so often laced his voice when he spoke. But they couldn't see what he chose not to show them. They couldn't see what he chose to show only Calleigh.

And just as he could see her own vulnerability, Calleigh could see the vulnerability in Tim's eyes. However he'd gotten the news of what had happened to her, it had clearly knocked him off-balance. His concern for her was genuine, and it was plainly visible in his dark eyes, as was an entire host of other emotions – most of which Calleigh couldn't name, but she knew that every one of those emotions had their roots in the same feelings she felt for Tim, be it love or something else.

Ever gently he tugged at her hand. "Come here," he said softly, wanting – needing – to coax her into his arms.

Calleigh hesitated for only a moment, for there remained that part of her that still didn't want to be fussed over. But then again, this was Tim. If there was anybody who really, truly knew her, it was Tim. He could easily read her like a book, and, more importantly, she let him read her like a book. She felt so comfortable with him, and he always knew exactly what she needed.

So she obliged him, letting him pull her slowly into the warmth of his arms. She felt his arms wrap securely around her, and Calleigh tucked her head beneath his chin, finally finding herself able to take that deep, steady breath which had eluded her all day long. Her own arms snaked their way around him, as though knowing she needed to be anchored to something real. Her eyes closed as the soothing sound of his heartbeat reached her ears, projecting the deepest sense of calm over her, allowing her to let Tim be what he wanted to be for her right now – her rock.

She'd projected a calm front all day long, to everybody around her. Calleigh had pretended to be calm, collected, but even she could not deny that now was the first time she'd really and truly felt calm. The feeling of Tim's arms around her never failed to soothe her, even when nothing else could. And even though they'd both abided by somewhat strict rules at work – the lightest of touches were not out of the question, but anything more than that was pushing it – Calleigh didn't care that they were in the middle of the lab right now; all she knew was that she never wanted to leave his arms.

And with the way he held her, it didn't seem Tim would be content to ever let her go. "I'm so glad you're okay," he murmured, feeling his heart clench once more at the thought of losing her. Swaying her gently, he closed his eyes, burying his face in the softness of her hair. He breathed her in, truly appreciating the feeling of completion, of perfection that came simply from the way she fit in his arms.

If the past year had taught him anything, it was that life was fragile. Tim wasn't invincible, and neither was Calleigh, no matter how much either of them liked to think they were. In a second, life could end. In a second, what was most important could be stripped away from him, just like that.

It really put everything into perspective for him – they hadn't been together back then, but had Calleigh been this scared after he'd had his own brush with death? Had the blood running through Calleigh's veins suddenly become like ice water when she'd first heard the news? Had time simply come to a complete and utter halt for her, her every thought and need focused on getting to him? Had she been so consumed with the fear of losing him, as he had for her, even though, unlike her, he'd had the advantage of knowing that she was perfectly safe?

It had been a fear like he'd never felt before. It had gripped him so completely, so intensely that there was nothing else it could possibly be – it was fear that he might've lost the only woman he'd ever really loved.

In his life, Tim had let go of a lot of things that had been important to him, things that had meant the world to him. Some had been by choice; some by careless mistake.

But as he held Calleigh – his Calleigh, who, underneath her impenetrable façade was just as breakable as he – in his arms, Tim knew that he couldn't let her go, not by careless mistake, and never by choice.

If he had his way, Tim knew that he would hold on to her forever.