Csi: Miami fanfic
Eric/Calleigh
Drowning Sorrows
Calleigh downed the last of her martini and tipped her head back, feeling a little woozy. "Gimme another one," she mumbled to the bartender.
He raised his eyebrows dubiously, but did as she asked. While she waited, Calleigh spun around in circles on the bar stool, humming along with the song that was playing on the radio.
Eric sighed at the insistent beeping of his pager. He snuck a look at the number and rolled his eyes. "Not again." Throwing Horatio a glance that said, 'I'll explain later', he jumped into his car and sped to the bar.
"Calleigh Duquesne, what have you done now?" Eric muttered as he slipped through the crowds of people on the dance floor, eyeing his friend. "Oh, boy," he sighed again when he noted the number of glasses next to the former ballistics expert.
"How many has she had?" he asked the bartender, arriving at the bar table.
"At least five," the man offered. "I'm surprised she's not out yet."
"Yeah, well, Calleigh can sure hold her amount of alcohol." Eric blew out a breath. "C'mon, Cal, time to go home." He reached for her hand.
"No. I'm having fun. Go 'way." Calleigh slurred.
"I'm sure." Eric grabbed her hand. "Alright, bullet girl, let's go."
"I'm not bullet girl anymore," she stood up indignantly- and immediately passed out on the floor.
The Spanish CSI shook his head and slapped a fifty on the table. "Thanks," he nodded at the bartender and picked Calleigh up into his muscular arms. He cradled her against his chest and carried her to the car.
Calleigh opened her eyes groggily. Oh, Lord.
Wait a minute. Where am I?
She turned her head slightly to examine her surroundings. She was in a bed- not her own.
Uh-oh.
Dark jeans… muscular arms…
Her eyes travelled farther up.
Broad chest… tanned skin… dark hair…
Eric Delko.
Double uh-oh.
She sat up quickly, and as soon as she did, felt sick, so she lay back down again. Thankfully, her co-worker-
Former co-worker, she corrected herself, didn't stir.
Mind whirling, she fought to remember what had happened the previous night. She winced when she recalled the number of drinks she had, but beyond that- nothing.
Finally, she shifted onto her side. "Eric!" she hissed.
"Hmm? What?" Eric woke with a start. He sat up, the blanket falling to the bed to reveal a very nice-looking chest, Calleigh noted, blushing.
"Oh, hey Cal. How are you feeling?" he asked, concern showing in his dark eyes.
Calleigh blushed even more. "What did I do last night?" she blurted.
Eric laughed. "Don't worry," he reassured, motioning to the bed. Calleigh felt a wave of relief wash over her when she realized that he was on top of the comforter that she was underneath; a different blanket covering himself. "Cal," Eric repeated, interrupting her scrutiny, "Nothing happened. I didn't want to put you on the couch and I don't like it, either. It's okay."
"Oh." Calleigh flushed, now really embarrassed. With a split-second glance down at herself to make sure she was dressed, she slid out of bed. "Did I do anything humiliating?"
Try as he might, Eric couldn't suppress the smile that spread across his face. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he bounced off the bed and dug in his dresser drawer for a clean shirt. "I didn't know you liked country music," was his only comment. He yanked on a bright muscle shirt that contrasted against his dark skin and turned around.
Calleigh quickly averted her gaze, willing herself not to blush again.
"Oh, Cal, I'm sorry," Eric apologized, mistaking her pink cheeks for his teasing. "I didn't mean to-"
She laughed. "No, that's not it. Don't worry, I'm not offended."
"Good." He looked relieved. Then he grinned again. "You're cute when you're tipsy."
Her jaw dropped in mock-horror, and she smacked his arm playfully. "Shame on you."
Eric ducked his head shyly, enjoying their game. "I know." He hooked her arm in his and pulled her toward the kitchen. "Let's have some breakfast. You hungry?"
"Starving," was her smart-aleck reply.