AN: I was inspired to write this in Africa after playing hangman on the dusty roads with a little girl I met over there. She was such a sweet kid, her name was Purity. I needed a reason to write it, though, so blame Kazalene for having her birthday at just the right time. This is for her. I apologize in advance for the fluffy-ness. I've not lost my marbles. (Just never had any...)

Yeah, this needs some serious editing but I'm already late with this and I'm kinda giving up on my writing; I don't really care anymore. Not a good attitude but, meh.

-- Hangman--

-- By Adorelo--

A soft chuckle echoed over the empty beach, masked slightly by the graceful sound of the waves hitting the sand. "I don't believe you," Calleigh murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.

Eric held up a hand, palm upwards. "See the scar?" he replied indignantly, pointing to a barely-there white dent near his thumb that was almost impossible to see in the dimming post-sunset light. Calleigh rolled her eyes, bringing his hand to her face as she mock concentrated on the 'scar'. "I swear to you; tiddlywinks- are against me. My uncle sent them over from Ireland and we were all so excited to have something new to play with." He gave a laugh as he recalled unspoken memories. "Then, ping," he continued, snapping his fingers for effect, "a plastic projectile skewered me. I'm still scared of small pieces of flying plastic."

Calleigh couldn't fight the grin that spread over her face and turned her head to prevent him from seeing. He still caught her. Giving a playful nudge with his shoulder, Eric glanced down to his companion, meeting her eyes with his. She loved this; just spending time doing nothing. It was one thing she found most beneficial; she could learn more about him through his silence than his words. "And you're a criminalist?" she finally teased, enjoying the large smile she evoked. "Honestly, the only game I remember playing as a kid was marbles. I always won the best ones; my brothers had terrible aim."

"Doesn't surprise me," Eric laughed, taking her hand in his.

They fell into a contented silence, listening to the soft sounds of the beach; the birds settling in for the night and the quiet bustle of the beach front in the distance. Calleigh cast her eyes back along the path they'd taken and studied their footprints that disappeared onto a walkway. "Thanks again for dinner," she whispered, not wishing to disrupt the moment. Their eyes met again, and his hand gave hers a gentle squeeze. She received no reply, simply a firm kiss pressed to her lips.

As he pulled back, Eric's eyes lit up dangerously. "Speaking of games," he started, smiling down evilly at her, "I am amazing at hangman." He dropped a kiss on her nose before stepping back, eyes scanning the beach for a suitable place to begin his newly formed plan.

Frowning in confusion at his seemingly sudden change of demeanor, Calleigh followed hesitantly. She'd seen that look in his eyes before: he was up to something. Finally settling on a spot, he knelt in the sand, motioning for her to join him. She rolled her eyes, flattening the sand with her hand so as not to get so much on her dress.

Eric sketched out a five letter word, nodding in satisfaction at his choice. "I'm starting easy," he informed her. "Now guess."

"A," she started, choosing the first vowel more out of habit than tactic. Statistically, it was a likely choice, but it'd always been her first guess when she'd played it as a child. Old habits die hard. Calleigh gave a smug smile as Eric filled the third space with an 'A'. "E," she continued, her guesses never quite guesses; her tone was decisive, her decisions statements. There was no hesitation about Calleigh Duquesne.

Eric rolled his eyes, adding the 'E' to the second space. "I think you're cheating," he told her, mock annoyance coloring his tone.

"I'm just good," she replied cockily. "L." A frown now, as Eric took her smug smile and drew the hanging frame. A light grumble followed, and she settled herself further into the soft sand, crinkling her toes into the fine grains. Her red heels lay forgotten at her side and the sand that stuck under the gauze of her dress no longer concerned her. "D." She watched his hand move to the frame and quickly mumbled, "wait, wait, I meant B."

"Cheat," he accused, drawing the line of the frame anyway – much to her annoyance – before adding the 'B' to the first space.

Mulling the possibilities over in her mind, Calleigh fell silent, rubbing her toes in the sand as her mind subconsciously informed her of the answer. After a beat, her eyes grew wide. "Oh!" she declared. "Beach."

Giving a nod, Eric wrote the word, awarding her a mock-serious applause for her efforts. "Your turn."

Calleigh won the next round, stumping Eric with the name, 'Calvin Goddard' which, he argued, wasn't fair anyway because it was a name and he couldn't possibly have known it. "You should pay more attention when I talk about my work; Goddard was a very famous ballistics pioneer," came the indignant response.

Clearly annoyed at losing to her, Calleigh watched Eric grin evilly before writing out twenty-nine spaces, evidently choosing the longest and most complicated word his brain could think of. She rolled her eyes, and began her guess with her favorite letter.

Only moments later, Eric was practically glowing with pride as he added the final leg onto the hanged man. "You lose," he informed her, quickly turning to write the answer in the sand.

"Wait! I still have more guesses." She pouted in that way she knew made him weak. "You need to give the poor guy a face."

Watching the flush cover his face, she thought she'd won. Eric quickly abolished that thought. "Nice try," he croaked, blinking heavily as her foot made contact with his arm. Before she could push any further in her little battle, Eric turned again, scribbling the answer into the sand.

She gave him a blank look. "Floccinaucinihilipilfication?" she questioned with a raised brow. "Eric, do you even know what that means?"

"I know it's a word," he countered, pausing for a moment, his eyes on hers. "My go again."

And just like that, the moment changed.

How, she didn't know, but suddenly the light tone had vanished from his voice, being replaced with a forced, tense tone. Her heart jumped. The last time she'd heard that tone, well, it wasn't good. "Eric?" she whispered, cursing the shake her voice held. His eyes met hers again but flicked away quickly, his tongue darting out to lick his lips in a nervous gesture.

His fingers moved through the sand, pausing at spaces as though he wasn't sure what to write. Eventually, he settled on two words; the first being five letters, the second merely two. "Okay, guess."

Again, she began with 'A', not missing the shaky way Eric wrote it into the second space. Still trying to work out his sudden mood change, she guessed again, no longer caring too much about her incorrect answers; she just wanted to find out what he was up to. As he wrote in an 'E' in the last space, Calleigh cast her eyes to the hanging frame Eric had drawn, noting it was significantly smaller than the other one; so much so that the head he'd attached seemed insignificant. "R," she tried, tone not quite as decisive as before.

He gave a nod that would have been imperceivable to any one but her. Two more spaces were filled now, leaving her mulling the possibilities for the final word. It ended with 'E'; 'we'? 'Me'? 'Be'?

She let it be, deciding instead to finish the first word. "N," she tried, stopping Eric's hand with her own as he went to add a body to the poor hung man. "No, wait, I meant 'M'." As his hand gave up the fight to draw a line, she felt a flash of... something -- fear? -- flow through her body. He never gave up easily.

The 'M' was written in two spaces, starting both of the words with...

"Eric," she whispered as the realization hit her like a brick wall. Fire shot through her body and, strangely, left her curiously calm. She'd worked out the phrase, but, despite the calm, her mind rolled over in confusion. "Why?" she asked, studying him silently as he added the 'Y' to the statement, allowing the phrase to be completely exposed for the first time. "No," she stopped him, "why? Why now?"

Eric cast his eyes down, but not before the flash of hurt and disappointment had colored his eyes a deeper brown. "Because I love you? Because you're the person I wanna spend the rest of my life with?" His voice was low, so low she could barley hear his words yet she couldn't fight the ripple of excitement that trembled through her body as the tension that radiated from him hit her with full force. It was clear he was uncertain and, as she frowned in concentration, Eric's fingers added a question mark to the sand, effectively turning the order into a request.

Her eyes fell shut. She couldn't think, couldn't breath and her problem became more pronounced as his hands met her skin, his feather-light touch drawing goosebumps across her flesh. Lips met her temple and his hands were in her hair, suddenly everywhere at once and it was almost overwhelming, the force with which she realized the depth of her love for him. "Yes," she murmured before her mind even had a chance to process the word. She didn't need to, her heart made the decision and her brain wouldn't fight it. Not anymore, because they'd fought too hard for too long to turn back now. She wanted it all.

"Yeah?" he affirmed, lips trailing to her lips now, grazing every inch of skin he met along the way. His teeth bit her bottom lip gently, pulling it taut before letting go, soothing the bruise with a soft lick. She could merely nod in response, overwhelmed now by feelings she thought couldn't get any stronger. "Cal..."

He didn't finish. Neither wanted to bother with words anymore; they were both unnecessary and not enough. Words had gotten them here, their game revealing the spontaneity of their relationship but from now on, both needed actions only. They'd lived – existed -- by hiding behind words for too long, talking and cowering behind 'what ifs' and 'maybes'.

Not any more.

As they rose to leave the beach, the powerful sea roared its approval, showering the sand where they'd sat with tiny drops of water, cleansing the ground and cementing the memories. Together, they observed the sea carry the grains of their game away, leaving only a few footprints of their past behind on the sand, providing a fresh canvas for their future to be drawn upon.

-- Fin --

-- 08/18/2008 --