The first time Calleigh wakes up it's slow and soft. She's floating through that delicious haze between sleep and awake, and Eva is heavy and warm next to her. Calleigh yawns and tightens her arms around her. The city is waking up; Calleigh can hear a siren in the distance, and traffic is picking up on the expressway. She doesn't need to open her eyes to know there is a dark red hue in the bedroom as the drapes covering the east-facing windows are hit with the day's first rays of sun. Eva makes a sound and moves in her sleep, Calleigh shifts to accommodate her.
Eva had knocked on the door at 1am when Calleigh was in bed but not yet asleep, and she certainly wasn't expecting Eva to show up. The school bus accident had been all over the news, though, and Eva had a lost look in her eyes and hadn't eaten in 18 hours. Calleigh heated up left-over take-out, watched her as she ate, and then put her to bed after making sure she didn't have a shift today. Calleigh is not on until the afternoon. She thinks about getting up, making coffee, taking advantage of the free morning, there are plenty of things to do that have piled up during the week...
The angrily buzzing phone on the nightstand wakes her the second time, and now the angle of the sun is much higher. Eva stirs next to her but doesn't open her eyes, and Calleigh quickly grabs for the phone.
"Duquesne," she half-whispers as she tries to get out of bed without waking Eva.
She's halfway to the bedroom door when she hears an unfamiliar male voice on the other end. "Huh? Is Eva there?"
Calleigh turns back to look at the nightstand where her own phone rests quietly. Damn. Eva has settled down and is breathing evenly. Calleigh makes a quick decision. "I'm sorry, she's, ah... Who is this? Can I take a message?" She pushes the door closed behind her.
When the voice comes back there's a distinct edge in it. "This is Dr. Chris DeLeo. I work with Dr. Zambrano, and I would like to talk to her."
The name sparks the image of a blonde surfer-type doctor she remembers meeting at the trauma center when she and Eva met for the first time. Eva mentions Chris occasionally, with a lopsided smile and softening eyes. Calleigh decides to trust him. "Dr. DeLeo, Eva is sleeping. I didn't want to wake her. Is it urgent?"
"Oh. Wait, who did you say you were?"
Calleigh hesitates a moment, but she's already in for a penny, might as well go for the pound. "CSI Calleigh Duquesne. We met last month. After that shooting on the beach?"
"And now you're answering Eva's phone while she's sleeping." It's not a question, but the triumphant tone in his voice makes the hairs raise at the back of her neck.
"It was by mistake," Calleigh mutters, but Chris isn't listening.
"So you're the one she's been seeing! You better take good care of her."
His voice changes abruptly. "Sorry. None of my business. I really just wanted to make sure she was OK. We had a really awful case last night, and I'm a bit hungover... hell, I'm still drunk... and I wanted to check in with her. But it's good that she's sleeping. Don't wake her up, just tell her I called?"
He interrupts her. "But don't tell her I was drunk."
Before she has time to say anything else, the call ends, and she's left standing there, feet cold on the floor, staring down at Eva's phone. Then she shrugs, eases back into the bedroom to grab a robe and both phones, and heads towards the kitchen to make coffee.
An hour later Calleigh is showered and dressed and sorting through a week's worth of mail when Eva appears. She watches as Eva gets a mug from the cupboard, pours herself some coffee and takes a seat next to Calleigh. The silence is comfortable but curious. They've stayed over at each others' before, but never unannounced, never without sex, and, she realizes now, one or both of them has always had to leave for an early shift. The day stretches ahead of them, full of possibilities. Eva drinks her coffee. Calleigh chucks another pile of unopened junk mail into the trash, refills her own coffee cup.
"You wanna tell me about last night?"
Eva sighs and runs her hand through her hair. "It's always worse when it's children. And there were... so many of them." She shudders and their eyes meet, and Calleigh puts her hand on Eva's neck, her thumb rubbing small circles against the warm skin. "You know what it's like."
Calleigh nods. "Dr. DeLeo called about an hour ago. He wanted to check in, make sure you were OK."
"He called you?"
Calleigh's lips twitch sheepishly. "I answered your phone by mistake. It was on my side of the bed."
"How was he?" Her eyes narrow. "How drunk was he?"
Calleigh laughs. "He said not to tell you." Then she grows serious again. "But I think he was OK. He seemed excited that I answered the phone."
Eva rolls her eyes. "He would be. I... haven't told them about you yet. I just... I wanted you to myself for a little while before the nurses start taking bets on when we are gonna break up."
"Hey, it's fine. We haven't talked about how serious we are. It's only been a month. I told my mom I'm seeing someone new, but that's it. Oh, and you met Eric the other week. And I may have told Natalia at work that I'd met this amazing doctor... But we said we'd take it slow. We're taking it slow."
"I hope you didn't mind me showing up here last night. I just didn't want to be alone, and drinking with Chris wasn't..."
"It's fine! I mean, I like having you here. You can come here whenever you need to." Calleigh smiles and leans over to kiss Eva.
For a while the conversation is derailed as what she intended to be a brief kiss turns into a full-blown make-out session, Eva's empty coffee cup elbowed over by one of them and buttons undone on Calleigh's top. Eva's hands are teasing and inviting against Calleigh's skin.
Finally Calleigh sighs and pulls back.
"Ah-ah-ah. Before we take this back to the bedroom, and believe me, I'd like nothing more than to take this back to the bedroom, I need sustenance. Breakfast first!"
It's hard, though, when Eva leers at her with her mussed up hair and swollen lips. Calleigh scrambles off her chair and backs away. "There's a place around the corner that makes the best pastelitos in Miami."
Eva exchanges Calleigh's threadbare t-shirt for the sinfully short bright yellow dress she wore last night, and Calleigh resolutely turns her head away and walks down the stairs. Once they're on the street she reaches over for Eva's hand, though.
"I meant what I said. You can come over whenever you want to. I like it."
Eva smiles happily and squeezes her fingers. "I'm glad. And that goes for you, too."