Chapter Five
It was almost of a relief to be out of his condo, he realized, walking past a music store without so much of a glance. He had convinced himself (and Alexx and Calleigh, for that matter), that he needed to get out. The past few weeks had been the same. He would wake up, go about a normal morning routine, and then the boredom would set in. He alternated between sitting on the couch with the television on, or a book held awkwardly in one hand, or sitting at his computer, playing game after game of solitaire. Was that some sort of sign, he thought to himself, shifting the gift bag from his right to his left hand. The afternoons were usually physical therapy sessions, but he had his last one the day before. Then, he would sit around and wait for the inevitable knock on the door, when Calleigh would breeze in, talking about what had happened at the lab that day, and start to prepare dinner for the two of them.
Never mind that he could officially move his left arm as much as he wanted, though it did tend to give up after a few hours. He could make dinner, he had told her, hewas perfectly capable of stirring, frying, and whatever else came to mind. But he had seen the look on her face, the look in her eyes, and he couldn't say no. SHE looked forward to dinner, now, not just him. SHE was the one that didn't want to break the routine.
But the routine was about to be broken. It was Friday afternoon, and on Monday, he would be back to work. That morning, he had gone through the obligatory meeting with Horatio, where he was warned that field work was out of the question for awhile, that he would have to remain in the lab. He didn't mind. He also received the results of his meeting with the counselor, which was, "detatched, short, and sardonic, but fit for work."
Speedle's mind wasn't on going back to work, however. His mind was intent on finding the perfect thank you gift for the painfully blodne woman. He had already about one for Alexx, and was planning on taking it work with him on Monday, if she didn't drop by first, and she had been simple to shop for. He had never found it a challenge to shop for her, but Calleigh was a different story. It had to be something important, something special, but what that could be...
He paused for a moment, sweeping the surrounding shops with chocolate brown eyes. A gift certificate was impolite and impersonal. He didn't know her well enough to buy her a CD or a book, and besides, that wasn't much of a thank you gift. Flowers were never a good choice. He never understood the giving of flowers. Flowers died, what kind of message did that send? And then he noticed the store he was standing beside. What was it, fate giving him a kick in the ass? He turned and walked in, before realizing that maybe jewelery would be too personal. And besides, he didn't even know the difference between the good stuff and the fake stuff, he told himself.
He shook his head to the saleswoman, telling her that he was just looking, as he began to persue the cases. She did have pierced ears, he thought to himself, but there were so many problems with earrings. What if she were allergic to some type of metal? He didn't want to be the reason for infected ears. No, that was no good, he told himself, stepping away from that case and looking in the next one. Bracelets. But even if he did get her one, it wasn't like she would have that many places to wear it. Loose jewelery like that was frowned upon in the lab. And ever since that night last week, when he had stood there, holding her wrist...no, don't think of that.
A necklace was the natural choice, he realized. Not something too long, not something too short. But nothing he saw was something that he could see her wearing. The diamonds were too big and sparkly, or the chains were too thick. Was he this picky about everything in life? He looked up in annoyance when the saleswoman had come back. "Are you sure that there's nothign I can help you with, sir?" she asked, polite as could be.
He shrugged, and it was the one shouldered shrug again. He didn't need to do that anymore, he had full use of both shoulders, but he had come into such a rut with that movement. "I'm looking for a gift, for a friend of mine. She...uh...helped me recently," he explained, his eyes going back down to the case. No, none of those were right.
"A necklace?" she asked. "Normally, diamonds are a little much for a friend, but we do have a nice selection of gems. Are you looking for something that would stand out or-"
"Delicate," he answered, surprised when that word came out of his mouth. Was that what he was looking for? That word seemed to apply. She wasn't a delicate woman, but for some reason...
"I think I might have what you need." She disappeared for a moment, and then laid a black velvet board ontop of the glass case. His lips almost curved into a smile when he saw it. It seemed to be the perfect gift for Calleigh. "Sir?" she asked, when he fell silent, staring at the necklace.
"I'll take it," he said, nodding to himself. Yes, that was the one.
They had a routine down pat by now. She cooked, they sat in the kitchen to eat, and then went onto the small deck for fresh air after they had finished the dishes. She had been amused to find that he didn't have a dishwasher, but they had come to an understanding: he washed, she dried. It was after the water had been drained from the sink that she had spied the shopping bags he had stred on the kitchen counter. Her eyes landed on the jewelery store bag and nudged him, nodding in its direction. "What, you have a new girlfriend and didn't tell me?"
He took a deep breath. Suddenly, he was having misgivings. Was the gift right? He hadn't been sure. He had left it within easy reach, so that he could give it to her at any moment, but now, it just didn't seem right. Now, it seemed too personal. But it was too late for that, he told himself. She had already seen it. "Actually," he began slowly. "It's for you. My way of thanking you for everything you've done since-" He broke himself off and gestured to his shoulder as a means of explanation.
"Really, Tim, you didn't have to."
But he saw the look in her eyes and had to stop himself from smiling. She was glad that he had done something, and despite her words, it was written all over her face. "I had to do something. Go ahead, it's yours. Open it." He took the dish towel from her and dried his hands before running cold water to send the remaining soap bubbles down the drain. When he turned back, she had taken the slender box from the bag and used her thumbnail to slit the tape that kept it closed. He leaned against the counter, intent on watching her face when she lifted the lid to look at what was hidden inside.
From the depths of the soft cotton, she lifted a thin gold chain, a tiny golden angel suspended from the necklace. She laid it across her hand, fingering the small charm, her eyes caught by the tiny diamond chips that were imbedded in the wings. The look on her face was more than worth the time and money that he had spent. The way that her eyes had lit up, the way that her mouth had opened slightly in shock, the way that a flush had risen in her smooth cheeks. "Oh, my," she whispered, lifting it again. The pieces of diamonds caught the light and sparkled playfully at her as it spun in the air. "You really didn't have to."
He fought back against the relieved chuckle, his twitching lips the only giveaway, but she wasn't looking at him. "Yes, I did. I had to do something, and when I saw it...well, I thought that you'd like it."
"Oh, I do. I love it," she told him, beginning to smile. "Would you mind?" She passed him the necklace and turned, lifting her hair from her neck. "I swear, I have to be the only woman that can't put on a necklace without ten minutes in front of a mirror. You'll probably be better at this than I am."
His fingers felt clumsy for the first time in a long time. He stepped closer to her, and opened the clasp on the necklace, looping it around her neck. He cursed under his breath. "The light's no good here. Turn a bit," he told her. She did as he asked, and he followed her movement, sliding behind her and closer as he squinted at the clasp. His thumb slipped off the cklasp, and then finally he got it open, hooking the small gold circle around it and letting it go. "There you go." He reached up and loosened the hold she had on her hair, letting it cascade down her back.
She shivered suddenly, as his fingers straightened her hair, inadvertantly brushing the tender skin of her neck. It was bad enough having him stand behind her, and to have to notice all the things about him that she had never noticed before. The heat from his body had sunk through her silk shirt easily. The smell of soap, and toothpaste, and garlic from dinner. The feel of his warm breath against her bare neck, a purely intimate thing that had rocked her to the core. And now, now it was the feel of his rough fingertips, not at all soft and smooth, but hard and rough like a man's should be, touching her skin, running through her hair. She shivered again, not even realizing that he had stepped away awhile ago, and had turned away. "You okay?" he asked her, breaking into her thoughts.
She remained turned away, until the flush in her cheeks had receeded, lest he know that he was the one that was making her blush. "Yeah, it's...the air conditioning. You have it turned up high enough that you don't need to put the steaks in the freezer. How do you stand it?" she lied glibly, finally looking at him.
He simply raised an eyebrow as he continued to cut away at the cake that she had brought that afternoon. "Where I come from, it's not particularily warm this time of year. I'm used to the cooler temperatures," he explained, reaching for the plates above his head, sliding the cake onto them. A small piece of him, a larger piece of her. "It's warmer outside."
"We always eat outside," she reminded him, taking the cutlery from him and following him out to the back porch. It wasn't a secluded area, what with the other condo owners having decks only a few inches away, but it seemed that no one else took advantage of the space the way that he did. They were surrounded by silence.
Both of them toyed with their dessert, their appetites ruined by their unexpected thoughts in the kitchen. He had been just as surprised by the contact as she had been, and he knew that when he had finished securing the necklace, he wouldn't be able to resist touching that damned hair that she was so proud of. The thick, almost white blonde mane that she complained about as much as everyone else admired. And it had felt the same as he thought it would have. Smooth as silk, cool as water, and heavy. It had taken awhile for him to come back to Earth, to remember where he was, who he was, who she was, and when he had, he had simply turned away, because those feelings, those sensations...they weren't right.
She was Calleigh Duquense, the ballistics expert, the unfallible scientist, and now, a friend. And nothing more. Never anything more.
Chapter Six
