Disclaimer: I don't own them. I believe that privelege currently goes to Simon & Schuster. I just like messing with them a little.

AN: This one-shot takes place sometime early in the Casefiles series, after Dead on Target. It will help if you're familiar with that particular series, otherwise you may be lost.

COMPROMISE & CONFESSIONS

"Please, Callie, just go home."

Frank Hardy stared down at his long-time girlfriend from the front step of the Hardy family home, his eyes imploring her to listen to him.

Callie Shaw stood glaring furiously with a hand on her hip, refusing to back down. The warm night air gently tousled her long golden tresses but she didn't even move to push them out of her face. Her normally soft brown eyes glinted like amber stone in the porch light and her fingers clenched around the papers in her hand. Silence hung between them for several tense moments.

Frank sighed gustily and ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair. "Callie… Please. Don't fight me on this. It's better that you don't get involved – "

"Why?" Callie finally burst out, throwing up her arms angrily. "How is this so different from any other time I've helped you out on a case?"

"It's dangerous, Callie. These guys aren't playing around."

"'It's dangerous'?" she repeated incredulously. "Is that it? Your cases have always been dangerous! I know that, so what's the – "

"It's just not a good idea, okay?" Frank never interrupted people; it was one of his major pet peeves. That was a telling sign for how impatient he was becoming with her. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

Callie scoffed. "Oh, please. Like you and Joe are so much safer than I would be. You know I'm careful, Frank."

"Yes, I know you are. But that's not enough this time." Now Frank was wearing his poker face and she knew he was struggling to control his temper. Callie didn't particularly care at the moment.

"But why isn't it enough?" she pressed stubbornly.

Frank didn't answer her. He merely crossed his arms and looked away, dismissing her. She hated to be ignored and he knew that.

"You know," she continued, feeling frustrated tears threaten to surface and willing them to stay down, "you used to enjoy having me work with you. You used to appreciate my opinion on things. So what's changed?"

"Nothing's changed, Callie. I do appreciate your help. You've been great. But… maybe you should just take a break from helping us for a while and focus on your other projects." Frank's voice was quiet but firm. He wasn't changing his mind about this.

Callie stared at him in disbelief. It was impossible to deny the hurt she felt at his words and she worked hard to keep that from showing. And, as always, when she was hurt her instinct was to respond with anger.

"Fine. Then maybe you and I should 'take a break' from each other, too."

She paused just long enough to see his startled expression. With that, she turned on her heel and marched down the drive, throwing her papers to the ground to flutter in the breeze.

"Callie, wait! Don't be like that! You know that's not what I meant." She didn't stop. "C'mon, at least let me drive you home."

"I'd rather walk!"

"Then I'll come with – "

"Alone!"

"But – "

"Just leave me alone, Frank! That's what you want, isn't it?"

She heard him sigh again and what sounded like him kicking the porch rail in anger but he didn't follow. She was both relieved and disappointed.

It was about a forty minute brisk walk to her house from the Hardy's house. Normally she just drove over but she'd had Liz Webling drop her off at Frank's after she'd had Liz look up some information possibly related to Frank and Joe's latest case. Now she was thankful for the long walk so she would have time to try to calm down before she reached home. Her parents were concerned about her relationship with Frank enough as it was. They thought she and Frank were "too serious" and that Frank's "detective hobby" was questionable and a big distraction for Callie. She didn't want to give them more ammo to work with.

She hesitated on the sidewalk in front of her house, taking a moment to just breathe and make sure all traces of upset were gone from her face. She went through the back door and tried to slip upstairs to her room by way of the kitchen staircase.

"Calandria Anne."

Callie froze partway up the steps and heaved a sigh before resignedly turning to face her mother, who was standing at the base of the stairs with her hands on her generous hips.

"What are you sneaking in for? What's wrong?" Jane Shaw demanded as her hazel eyes narrowed in concern for her only child.

Callie bit her lip and looked away as she debated with herself on how to answer. In the end, she found she actually needed to tell someone, and her mother was usually more supportive of her relationship with Frank than her father.

"It's nothing, Mom. Frank and I kinda got into a fight and… I guess I'm not sure what to think about it yet. We both got pretty angry." Callie felt her eyes start to prickle again and studiously avoided eye contact with her mother.

Jane made a sympathetic sound and moved closer to Callie to rub her arm comfortingly.

"I'm sorry, honey. But it happens to everyone. I'm sure it will blow over soon enough."

Callie couldn't keep the shakiness out of her voice. "Mom, I think… I think we might have broken up." Her eyes squeezed shut to stop the tears.

Jane blinked at her in surprise before moving to pull Callie into a gentle hug.

"Oh, Callie. What happened? You've been with Frank for years."

Callie stepped back and tried to pull herself together. "I don't know. Maybe I'm overreacting. He didn't actually say we should break up. He just told me he didn't want me getting involved when he and Joe investigated things anymore. He said I should focus on other things and keep my distance when they're working on a case. I was the one that said we should take a break from each other – but he didn't even try to argue about it!" The thought made Callie angry again, a more welcome emotion that the hurt she was trying to ignore.

Jane looked taken aback at first but then she carefully schooled her expression into one of neutrality and waited for Callie to regain her composure before replying.

"Well… what's so bad about that? It doesn't sound like he's trying to get rid of you. Maybe he's just trying to look out for you," she tried hesitantly.

Callie stared. "I like helping him, that's what's so bad about it! He never had a problem with it before and now all of a sudden he's going all macho on me! Joe's just as bad, but at least I expect it from him."

Callie's father, Mike, entered the kitchen as she finished speaking and quickly realized something was wrong. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

Before Callie could answer, her mother did it for her. "Callie's upset because she and Frank got into an argument. Apparently, he wants her to stay out of the… cases that he gets involved in. But Callie doesn't think that's fair."

Mike's brown eyes darted between his wife and daughter as Jane summarized the story. When she finished, he looked torn between being pleased and being appropriately understanding. Callie ground her teeth. This was why she'd been hoping to sneak past her parents. She knew her father had an opinion about this very subject and she didn't want to hear it again, especially not now.

"Well, Callie, that's too bad. I know you're very attached to Frank and you think his hobby is fun…" Mike paused, and Callie hoped he would stop right there. But evidently the opportunity was too good for him to pass up because he continued. "But maybe it's for the best. You know what his father does for a living, and I'm sure that he and his brother get involved in some dangerous things themselves. Frank's a smart young man, and if he thinks you shouldn't be caught up in his little adventures, then it's probably a very good idea that you leave him to it. Maybe someday he'll grow out of it."

Callie crossed her arms and glared at her father. "I doubt he'll 'grow out of it', Dad. He's a detective, and a pretty good one. He loves doing it. It's not just a 'hobby' to him. It's probably what he'll do for a living one day." Callie raised her voice slightly when it looked like her father wanted to interrupt. "And you know what? I think it's great! In fact, I love being able to help out whenever I can. It's something I'm interested in too. I think maybe I'd like to get into journalism and knowing how to investigate things will go a long way in helping me in that field. But aside from that, I like helping Frank with cases because I like working with Frank. I know you'd probably be a lot happier if I just severed all ties with him, but I love him!"

With that final declaration, she turned and fled up the stairs to her bedroom, barely resisting the urge to slam the door behind her and throw herself onto her bed. She already felt bad for yelling at her father but she couldn't bring herself to go down and apologize to him just yet. She knew he had good intentions… she just didn't agree with them. When would the males in her life understand that she wasn't a little girl anymore and that she could take care of herself? She was old enough to make her own decisions about what she wanted to do with her life and who she wanted to do it with.

It wasn't really late enough but she changed into her pajamas and got ready to sleep anyway. She didn't realize how drained she was until she was startled awake some time later when someone knocked on her bedroom door. A glance at the clock told her it had been nearly an hour since she had come home. She sat up and regarded the door warily.

"Who is it?"

"It's Mom."

Callie sagged in relief and opened the door. Her mother peered in at her, also dressed in her nightclothes with her blonde hair loose around her shoulders.

"Yes?" Callie asked, somewhat sheepishly.

Jane regarded her carefully. "You have a visitor. He's waiting on the front porch."

Callie didn't have to ask who "he" was. She chewed on her lip nervously. "Okay. I'll be down in a minute."

Her mother watched her for a second more and then nodded. "I'll let him know you'll be right down."

"Thanks… Mom? I'm sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to blow up like that. I guess I was just stressed out."

Jane nodded slowly. "I understand. But I'm not the one you should apologize to. Your father means well."

Callie winced. "Yeah, I know. I'll talk to Dad too."

As Jane went down the stairs, Callie ran to the bathroom to wash her face and comb her hair. Then she headed downstairs to the front door, passing Jane coming back up on her way down. Callie's father was nowhere in sight.

The porch light was on when Callie opened the door and stepped out onto the deck. She could see Frank's hunched frame sitting on the steps. Callie took a deep breath and seated herself beside him, just far enough apart that they weren't touching. Frank didn't look up, but just stared at the steeple his fingers formed as his elbows rested on his knees.

Silence reigned for several drawn-out minutes. Callie didn't want to be the first to speak but she was becoming concerned. Frank was normally quiet and thoughtful but he was taking an unusually long time to gather his thoughts. This wasn't the first time they had argued, of course, but somehow this time seemed much heavier. Callie felt her stomach flutter with nerves.

"I'm sorry. For arguing and… generally being a jerk."

Callie swallowed. "It's okay." It wasn't yet, not really, but just hearing his apology went a long way in making it so. She picked at the hem of her tank top and Frank continued staring at his hands. They still hadn't really looked at each other.

"Do you really want to break up?" Frank remained completely still even as he spoke. It was like sitting next to a breathing statue.

"No, I don't," she answered immediately. He finally moved, pulling his arms in to cross them over his chest. "Do you?" She held her breath while she waited for his answer.

Frank was quiet for a long moment before he answered firmly, "No."

Callie breathed out in relief and felt her shoulders relax minutely. It caused her arm to brush against Frank's and she subconsciously moved into the contact. Frank responded by shifting ever so slightly toward her.

She allowed a minute for the relief to flow through them. But now that she was reassured that their relationship was still mutually desired, she couldn't keep the other issue from pressing forward in her mind.

"So… if you don't want to break up and you like my help on cases, then why are you suddenly trying to keep me away?"

Instantly, she felt Frank tense up again next to her.

"I'm not trying to keep you away from me."

"Okay, then why are you trying to keep me away from your cases?" Callie frowned worriedly and studied Frank's handsome profile. "Did I do something wrong? Did I mess you guys up or something?"

"No, nothing like that. You're always a great help, Cal, and I love having you work with us. We just – I can't let you help out anymore. It's not safe for you. It was never a good idea to let you help in the first place." Frank's voice was quiet but insistent, almost desperate.

Callie felt her blood begin to boil again at the way the conversation was going. It was just a repeat of their earlier argument. She clenched her hands and focused on the pain caused by her nails digging into her palm in an effort to keep her temper under control.

"You said that already. I just don't understand what – or who – has made you change your mind now." She paused before finally voicing the suspicion that had been niggling at the back of her mind ever since Frank first brought the subject up. "Is this Joe's idea? I know he doesn't like me 'butting in', as he puts it, and he hasn't exactly been subtle lately about how he feels about girls in general getting involved in your cases. He seems to think I'm trying to take over or something but that's not –"

"It's not Joe, Callie." Frank stood abruptly and paced away from her down the steps. "He doesn't have anything against you. He wants you to think that he's irritated with you because he doesn't want you to know that he worries about you too."

Callie didn't quite know how to respond to that. Joe worried about her? Probably because he thought she was just a helpless female…

But if Joe hadn't changed Frank's mind, who else?

"Before you ask, it's not because of your parents, either." Frank shoved his hands into his pockets. "I know your dad doesn't like you getting involved but my feelings on this don't really have anything to do with him."

Callie thrust both hands back through her hair in a quick, aggravated motion. She knew Frank was uncomfortable discussing his feelings on certain topics but this running around in circles wasn't getting them anywhere.

"Fine, then. If it's not because of Joe or Dad, then what is it that's got you so worried? Really?" she pushed again. "Just tell me, Frank. Please. I can't try to understand if you don't just tell me."

Frank glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before he turned his back to her and stared out into the dark sky. She recognized this as an attempt at privacy to assimilate his thoughts rather than a dismissal and waited.

"I'm afraid that something will happen to you."

Callie sighed. "Frank… I know that. But we've been over this. We're all careful and we don't take unnecessary risks –"

He continued as if she had never spoken and his next words silenced her.

"I have nightmares."

Callie blinked at the non sequitur and stared at Frank's silhouette as the moon's silver light shone down on his bowed head.

"Nightmares? About what?" she hesitantly asked.

"About you. Getting hurt or… dying," he stated bluntly.

Callie stood and came to down the steps but stopped a few feet behind him. She wasn't sure what to say. She ached to touch him but she didn't know how he would receive it.

"Frank…" she murmured.

"Just like Iola," he whispered, barely audible.

Callie felt like he'd hit her in the stomach. It had only been six months since Iola's death, and they almost never talked about her. Or more accurately, Frank and Joe never talked about her. Callie was often the one to bring her up in conversation. To hear Frank mention her name was almost startling. But when Callie thought about it, it suddenly made sense.

Before Iola had died, she and Callie had often assisted Frank and Joe on cases. It wasn't until a few cases after Iola died that Frank had become hesitant about including Callie and Joe outright blew her off. Apparently, Iola's death had affected Frank much more than he'd let on.

Callie swallowed the lump in her throat and reached out to touch Frank's back. His muscles were rigid and she rubbed gently, trying to offer comfort.

"Frank, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was bothering you that much." They stood for a moment, Callie rubbing Frank's back and Frank apparently deep in thought. When a few moments had passed, Callie continued. "I understand why you're concerned. But, Frank, Iola wasn't helping on a case when she died. You guys weren't even working on anything. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could've happened to anyone."

"No, Callie." Frank finally turned to face her. The light from the moon overhead and from the porch light cast eerie shadows over his angular face and reflected off his dark eyes. "It didn't happen to just anyone. We were targeted, Callie, because of who we are and because of who our father is. Iola just got there first by chance. It could've been you instead. It could still be you. If Iola was killed just because of being associated with us, how much more at risk are you if you continue to get involved in our cases?" By now, Frank had his hands firmly on her arms and he was staring intently into her face, seeking understanding. "I've seen what Iola's death did to Joe. The guilt has nearly crushed him. I don't want the same thing to happen to me."

Callie put her hand on his chest and felt his rapid heartbeat. She fought to keep her tone even and gentle. His intensity was unsettling her, completely dissolving her indignation.

"Frank… I get it. But what other people do is not your fault. It's not Joe's either. You can't go through life trying to be responsible for other people. If I want to get involved in investigating and detective work, then that's my decision. I know the risks."

"Do you?" Frank's grip tightened on her arms almost painfully. "Callie, Iola is dead. A person we knew for years, a person I was friends with, a person I cared about… she's gone." Frank's voice wavered and Callie was shaken to see a wet gleam in his eyes. Frank never cried. "I used to think that because nothing really bad had ever happened to us that nothing bad ever would happen to us. For some stupid, naïve reason, I really believed that. But now… after Iola, now I know that even when we think we have full control we really don't. Anything can happen, no matter how careful you are." Frank swallowed hard and took a breath to calm himself. He never took his eyes away from Callie's. "That's why I can't you let you work with us anymore. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you, especially because of me."

Callie was floored. She'd never seen Frank this open and vulnerable. The strength of his feelings humbled her and left her nearly speechless. She carefully placed her hands on either side of his face and watched as his eyes closed under her touch. She pulled him down into her arms and was amazed at the way he clung to her.

She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him how she disagreed and that his reasoning was illogical and unfair, completely unlike him. Yes, the chances of being hurt or killed were increased by the type of work the Hardy's did. But, as Frank had stated so emphatically, they didn't have complete control over what happened in their lives. She could promise to never get involved in a case again and be killed in a freak accident the next day.

Callie thought of several points to use in her defense. Yet, as she held her normally stoic boyfriend against her and felt his trembling and carefully measured breathing, her desire to push her case melted away. So instead she rubbed the back of his neck soothingly and did something she never usually did for anyone.

She yielded.

"Okay, okay," she murmured into Frank's neck. "I get it now. I'm sorry. I'll try to stay out of it." For now, she added silently.

Frank allowed her to hold him for a few seconds longer before he released a final sigh and pulled back to look down at her. She could feel him searching her face for signs of sincerity and she did her best to let him read her. She wasn't giving up completely but if it meant bringing her boyfriend some measure of comfort then she was willing to lay low for the time being.

After a moment, Frank's face relaxed and his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as a relieved smile brightened up his expression.

"Thank you, Callie. I know it's not what you want, but thank you. I'll still keep you posted, I promise," he murmured gratefully.

She opened her mouth to reply but never got the chance. Frank hands moved, one down to her waist and the other to cup her jaw, as he swooped down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. She was surprised but quickly returned the gesture just as fiercely, feeling her skin burn where he was touching her. His hold on her was paradoxically both tender, cradling her like fine china, and unyielding, keeping her completely immobile in his arms and at his mercy. When he broke away, she swayed slightly, breathless.

"I love you, Cal," he whispered huskily. His eyes pierced into hers, intense and completely open to her.

Her heart beat wildly. He had never said that to her before.

He was waiting for a reply. She didn't even have to think about it. It came as naturally to her as breathing, like she had said it a thousand times, although she had never confessed it so directly to him before now.

"I love you too," she breathed.

He smiled, and she knew right then that she was going to marry him someday. There was no doubt in her mind.

Frank leaned down to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead before he reluctantly let her go. His gaze darted briefly up to the house behind her and she knew that her parents were probably watching them. She wondered how long Frank had been aware of them.

Frank cleared his throat. "Well… I guess should let you go back to bed. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely." Callie smiled at him coyly and watched him watch her as he backed away toward the street. She giggled when he nearly tripped on the curb and he flashed a bashful grin. When he'd finally turned away, something occurred to her.

"Hey," she called out. Frank stopped and looked back expectantly. "What about those reports I brought over? Are you going to look at them?" With all the confessions they'd been trading, she had almost forgotten what had started the whole thing. Almost.

Frank sighed and shook his head, but she could hear him chuckling under his breath. "I already did. Joe's probably going over them right now. You were right; the reports do seem to contradict each other. Joe and I are hoping that we can get a reaction out of someone if we show them to the right person." Frank paused. "You did great, Callie. Thanks."

Callie blushed hotly but tried to shrug off the praise casually. "Oh. Well, good. I was hoping they would be useful to you."

She could still hear him chuckling. "They were. Goodnight, Callie!"

"Goodnight!" She watched him walk off into the night and sighed contentedly.

Funny, she mused, that what she had thought was going to be a horrible night turned out to be one of the best nights of her life. And she didn't even have to leave her front yard. She glanced down at her flannel pajama pants. Or get dressed.

She headed back into the house and into bed. This time, though, instead of fighting troubling thoughts of impending heartache she welcomed dreams of a handsome boy whose dark eyes spoke more eloquently than his mouth ever could.

ANII: *cringes* Yikes, that turned out so much more lovey-dovey than I'd intended... Oh, well. I'll admit that I sorta rushed this one out. I was recently inspired by a reviewer (Thanks, MCR!) and I suddenly felt the need to write again. And when the urge strikes I have to just go with it because who knows when it will happen again!

This story was born from the popular (and completely unfounded) idea in fanfiction that Callie is totally impatient with and uninterested in Frank's detective work. All those people must have read a different series than I did because the Casefiles series several times showed that Callie was very interested (and involved) in the work they did (sometimes much to Joe's dismay and Frank's worry). I just don't understand why Callie gets such a bad rep. This is my idea of a conversation that must have taken place somewhere behind the scenes in this series. Actually, there sorta was a conversation about this topic in #8 but I didn't care much for that book so I'm ignoring it, LOL.

So anyway, please review and let me know what you think! :)