It starts like this

Title: Solace

Spoilers: Up to All-In

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.

Summary: As sleep overtakes you, the feeling that follows you into dreamless solitude is the solace in knowing that you're not alone, and someone is always looking after you.

A/N: Obligatory Post-Ep, because my StR muse left me and this one arrived.

O-O-O

It starts like this. ..

He drives you home after a rather… difficult day at work. You tried to brush him away, expressing your interest to be alone. He doesn't take the bait. Instead, in a clever move that you later reflect upon as being ingenious, he puts all the focus on him. By doing so, he makes himself vulnerable enough for you to realize the subtle offer.

Driving home isn't anything monumental, no earth shattering revelations are made, though you know he would if you'd let him. As he pulls into your driveway, you don't think much about what to do once he's in your house, you just figure he'll plop on the couch and wait for you.

And he does. You go and change out of you clothes, putting them in a brown paper bag to preserve any evidence you might need later. Instead of opting for sweats, you grab a pair of jeans and throw on an old t-shirt. As you pad barefoot down your hallway you notice that your couch is vacant, but you hear sounds coming from your kitchen.

Clearly, he's decided that you both could benefit from some tea. Oh, and food. After you inquire as to what he plans on making with your minimal food supply, he simply states 'dinner'. While he starts pulling spices out of the cabinet, you understand that he means real food, not a Man Meal comprised of meatballs and spaghetti.

His mom calls while he is sautéing chicken and they talk briefly, apparently details about what he is trying to cook. You catch his eye while he is on the phone and smile at him, and he rolls his eyes as his mom keeps asking questions on the other end. Ending the call, he asks for you to make some couscous and you get straight to it, feeling the need to be busy after watching him cook in your kitchen.

Dinner is delicious and hits the spot. You eat ravenously; realizing that it has been quite a while since you last ate. Conversation is varied, and you both discuss the Newberry case and Horatio's mysterious departure and return. You believe that this situation isn't over and that Horatio will have much to account for if anyone decides to look into his extradition.

You wash the dishes, he dries, and your fingers brush against each other in the process, but it isn't enough. It doesn't alarm you anymore and you don't quite know why. Regardless, you take your glasses and head to your couch. He seems quieter than he was before and you poke his leg with your toes to break him from his thoughts.

As he looks up you catch the sadness and relief mixed in his eyes. It's then that you realize he never intended to get you to talk about what happened. He just wants to be with you, to be in your presence and to know that you're okay. In an attempt to level the playing field, to open up a little, you decide to talk about what happened.

He remains silent and pensive when you finish and you're not quiet sure it was the best idea. Gaze fixed ahead instead of on you, he confesses that he threatened Cooper, and that Natalia and Ryan were incredibly professional and helpful. He doesn't say more, but no words are needed when he looks at you and a deep, conflicted sigh escapes.

Setting your glass down, you move over to him and place a tentative hand on his arm, getting him to turn to you. He does, but he won't meet your eyes and you frown, bringing your hand up to his face and rubbing your thumb along his cheek, whispering that you're still here and in one piece. He smiles slightly and pulls your hand from his face but doesn't let it go.

By now you gather that all he wants is physical contact, to touch you and know you're not getting taken anywhere. You stretch your legs across his lap and lean into him, wrapping your arms around his mid—section. He engulfs you in his arms and holds tightly for a seemingly endless period of time, both of you talking quietly about random, inconsequential things, but drawing strength and courage from one another.

You remain that way for a few minutes, but slowly ease apart. He doesn't ask where Jake is and you don't offer an explanation. But he does brush your bangs out of your face as you lean your head against the pillow, his fingers trailing down your cheek. He doesn't do anything else, though you're not sure if you'd mind at this point. At some point the T.V. is turned on and you catch the tail end of Breakfast at Tiffany's. You find yourself suddenly wanting a cat. You smile at Eric as he watches the movie, knowing he's always had a thing for Audrey Hephburn.

He catches you yawning and frowns a little, realizing that it's time he head home. As you walk him to the door you feel his eyes on you knowing that he can easily read your weariness. Before he walks out the door you grab his hand, pulling him close and burying your head into his chest. Exhaling deeply, he wraps his arms around you, placing a soft kiss into your hair as you cling tightly to his shirt. You're not sure who is getting more out of the hug, you or him, but it doesn't really matter.

You wave goodbye as his tail-lights fade away and shut your door to the darkness and the night, your fears and daylong fright. As sleep overtakes you, the feeling that follows you into dreamless solitude is the solace in knowing that you're not alone, and someone is always looking after you.

O-O-O

A/N: I'm drowning in a pool of sappiness. Come! Rescue me!