Post 7x14 Smoke Gets In Your CSIs

When Calleigh and Eric become trapped inside a suspect's home they are finally forced to confront their feelings for each other.

Author's Note: I'm a writer, but I'm kind of new to the whole fan fiction thing. But I love Calleigh and Eric, and have been super inspired to write some fics lately. I have several ideas, so this will probably be the first of many. Once I get a solid idea I hope to write a continuing, multi-chapter story…but for now I just have this, which will probably only be 2-3 parts. Hope you enjoy! Please R&R!

***

She was poised, ear protection and goggles on, arms raised, finger on the trigger… She took a deep breath, steadied her aim, and – Eric. Damnit.

Without looking she knew he was behind her. His presence greeted her body with a warmth of both butterflies and nervous energy. It had been this way for a while, but recently there was more and more nervousness involved…ever since she'd read his file, and especially since he'd uttered those very telling words in the hospital. "I can't imagine living my life without you…"

She sighed, her shoulders deflating from his view behind her, and she lowered the weapon. He was a little startled when she turned to him abruptly and ejected the magazine with a quick click, smiling coyly.

"How'd you know I was here?" he questioned, smiling incredulously. "I was waiting until you were finished."

"I always know when you're around," she answered honestly, not realizing the multitude of implications that statement held until she met his knowing but surprised eyes. She averted her gaze to the gun, mentally kicking herself for slipping up. When it came to Eric, she felt as though she'd been letting her guard down way too much lately. And now she'd unwittingly admitted that her senses were honed in on him, that she was acutely aware of his presence in any room. 'Great,' she told herself sarcastically. "So, um, any hits on CODIS?"

He hated when they did that…quickly recovered and denied themselves those little moments. But he knew that they were at work, and it wasn't the time nor the place to have such a conversation. They never seemed to find the time.

"Actually, yeah. DNA came back to a Cameron Townsend. He's a prominent lawyer and has a huge summer house in Harper's Cove. Horatio wants us to check it out."

"Okay, I can finish up this report later," she told him. She walked away from the firing range, fully knowing his eyes were on her.

***

"Clear!" Eric called up to Calleigh after securing the ground floor.

"Clear," she echoed back, finding the upstairs virtually empty save for some furniture. Judging by the thick layer of dust on all the modern décor, a strange juxtaposition, she figured no one had been up here for quite a while.

She lowered her gun as she made her way back downstairs, meeting Eric in the living room. "It doesn't seem like anyone has been here for a while."

"Wait," Eric said suddenly, a rush of urgency in his voice. Calleigh instinctively raised her gun, following his eyes. "There's a door on the other side of the stairs.

"Probably a crawl space," Calleigh said softly, following Eric's lead as they walked over towards it. After steadying their guns, Eric flung the door open, his brows immediately furrowing.

"A basement in Miami?" she asked disbelievingly. "That's a first."

"Basements give me the creeps," Eric admitted.

"Oh come on, Miami boy," she enticed, smiling. "Practically every house I'd ever been in had a basement until I came here."

"Only dead people should be that far underground," Eric stated. Despite his obvious miniphobia, when Calleigh stepped forward to go in front of him he immediately extended his free arm, stopping her.

"No," he insisted, a protective gleam in his eyes. He took a step forward into the basement, holding his gun in the ready position.

He had been doing things like that a lot lately, and on one hand it was very flattering and…nice, in a way. Nice to be taken care of, to be protected. But at the same time Calleigh was an independent woman, a ballistics expert and a cop, and her job demanded that she constantly put herself in danger. She could hold her own just fine.

Slowly, they made their way down the stairs that led into the basement, both of them covering opposite sides of the room.

The main room was large; an expansive modern rug covered the center of the floor. A wet bar, sofas, a big screen television, a sound system, and other necessities of the rich adorned the room.

"Hey, check this out," Eric called from an adjoining bedroom. He was in a walk-in closet connected to the bedroom. There was a bookcase on one side with hundreds of binders, files, and only a few books.

"Maybe there's something in here that connects Townesend to the drug ring our vic was involved with," Eric suggested.

Calleigh stepped in, surveying the closet. "Yeah, well we can't go looking for anything until we get a warrant. Right now we're just trying to question him."

Trying to read labels on some of the files, Eric squinted. Some light was coming in from the bedroom, but he couldn't see quite well enough in the dim light. He flipped on the weird, futuristic light switch, mumbling something about the rich.

Suddenly a low, mechanical hum emanated from the doorway and before they could even turn around completely a door, more like a wall, came crashing down from above. Calleigh and Eric both dove for it, but it was to no avail; in a matter of seconds they had suddenly become sealed into the walk-in closet by some sort of steel door.

Both of them could only stare in disbelief at the space that had once been a doorway. How the hell where they going to get out of this?