Author's Note: Needless to say, I got distracted from this fic… I really apologize for how long it took to complete this. I've had most of it written for a long time, but couldn't figure out an ending. Thank brange3 because in her awesome review for another one of my stories she said she wished I would finish this one, and the review totally inspired me to do just that. Hope you still like it…better late than never! Thanks so much to restless-mess and TexasJen for previewing this chapter and reassuring me. :) Also - really sorry about the double e-mail and the dead link with the first "Chapter 3." I somehow managed to prematurely upload this without fixing some formatting, so I had to take it down & redo...which caused all sorts of problems.

But she'd looked up and found him gazing at her, the adoring, mesmerized look on his face just barely visible in the meager lighting. And just like that all her carefully constructed words went away.

She had never seen Eric Delko look at any other woman that way and the implications frightened her a little.

Suddenly she was searching for something to say, some unimportant string of words about how hot it was in here or how she wished she could see Ryan and Natalia attempt to hold down the lab alone. But Eric spoke before she could dismiss the moment.

"Maybe this is someone's way of making sure we talk this time," Eric quipped. Calleigh had to smile. "We're always getting interrupted."

"Maybe," Calleigh said coyly, flashing him a smile in the darkness.

She knew he had been about to say more, much more, that day they were sitting on the curb. She'd also noticed that as brave as Eric seemed to be, he had to work up his courage in their conversations. And every time he seemed just about there, just about to give her the admission she'd asked him for, something happened. Frank approached them, or Valera had DNA results in, or they simply just didn't have time amidst their workload.

She was still waiting. Waiting for his response to her sudden demand – "What do you want?" Waiting for him to elaborate on what he'd said in the hospital. She knew that he knew he had the green light. When she'd told him his words were like a dream, his smile was one of realization, of confirmation. And then she'd allowed him to take her home, to care for her for three days as her lungs healed.

"Calleigh…" She glanced over at him, tucking a fallen lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Suddenly her chest felt tighter, the anticipation almost too much. She'd turned over thousands of images of them together in her mind; she'd asked him to be honest, to put words to those thoughts, feelings, and stolen glances she knew they'd been dancing around. She needed to know what he really wanted from her. And yet she'd never considered what would actually happen when he did do just that.

"You asked me what I want, and the truth is that…" He ducked his head slightly, running a hand over the back of his neck. "The truth is that I want you," he uttered as he lifted his head to gaze back at her, his honest eyes piercing hers. "I've wanted you for a long time, but I didn't really allow myself to go there. You seemed unattainable...and then you were taken, and then we were such good friends that I didn't want to mess anything up, and then you were taken again… But after that I gave up and just let myself fall for you. I couldn't have stopped it if I'd tried anyways."

The softness with which he'd uttered that final statement tugged at her heart. She was at a loss for words after his admission. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she could barely think.

"Eric…" she let out, and he was once again in awe of how his name sounded on her lips. Soft. Cherished. Safe.

Suddenly her breaths felt shallow and she felt unsteady. Dizzy even. She felt stupid for feeling so affected until her vision darkened at the edges in a way that had unfortunately become familiar. "Eric," she choked out again, sucking in air but feeling little effect of the oxygen on her body.

At the sound of her voice, he was at her side in a second.

"I can't breathe," she whispered, and his world fell out from under him all over again. In one swift motion his hands were on her chin and the back of her neck, tilting her head for optimal airway flow.

"Please tell me you have your inhaler on you," Eric demanded, his eyes meeting hers as she nodded.

"Jacket," she managed, all breath gone from her voice. He practically dove across the small room, grabbing her jacket and patting it down until he retrieved the small inhaler from the front pocket. He fumbled it into her awaiting hands, watching with bated breath as she sprayed it and breathed in twice, then tilted her head back to wait for the effects.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a moment, only just now realizing one of her hands had never ceased contact with his. She was clutching onto his fingers; he turned his hand in hers, weaving their fingers together.

She nodded slowly, her vision still splattered with a blackness that was slow to fade. "That still happens sometimes when I run too much," she admitted, her eyes cast downward. "Or get trapped in rooms with little air flow, apparently."

He squeezed her hand gently, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand, and she looked up. "What does your doctor say?"

"Take it slow, let your body heal," Calleigh quoted in a mocking tone. He smiled a little, but his eyes were still serious.

"You should listen," he told her, his voice full of emotion. She met his eyes, recognizing that look and tone from when she was in the hospital. It still floored her now just as it had then. His eyes, words, and voice were all so expressive. It brought her back to that dreamy state, when his soft declaration of being unable to imagine living without her floated through her unconscious mind and settled somewhere in the depths of her heart.

"Eric…" Her voice was unsteady, wavering slightly with emotion in an uncharacteristic manner. "What you said to me in the hospital…I don't know. Was it just because," she began, but then stopped, shaking her head slightly.

"I meant it," he assured her, his voice more steady than hers could ever be under so much emotion. His hand tightened around hers again. "It wasn't just because I almost lost you, Cal. I've been wanting to tell you that for years."

Her eyes were down, focusing on their hands in the dark as she brushed her thumb over his, but as she smiled she lifted her eyes to his. In the dim light he caught the faintest glint of her sparkling eyes and smiled, too.

For a brief moment she wondered if he'd ever work up the nerve to kiss her, but then she remembered what a gentleman he is. She never made the first move; that was a Southern belle's unofficial rule. And never had she dated a man who had any qualms about making the first move. Maybe that was part of the problem, as so many men seemed to be intimidated by her; maybe she should have been more wary of the ones who weren't. Eric was very, very different…she knew he would respect her and her space, and after nine years of friendship he was never going to kiss her if she didn't do something.

"How long?" she asked, a smile still toying with the corners of her lips.

"That's…complicated," he admitted, chuckling a little. He moved his hand slightly, admiring the way her tiny hands looked in his.

"Well," she began, nervously taking matters into her own hands. "How long have you wanted to do this…?" Suddenly her hand was on the back of his neck, gently pulling him towards her and guiding his mouth to hers.

His lips brushed hers harder than he would've liked, so he eased up immediately, sliding and cushioning her bottom lip between his as his hand ceased its connection with hers to rest on her side. She was soft yet toned, and when her small hand fisted a bit of his tank to tug him closer, briefly touching his abdomen in the process, he thought he was a goner. She was outwardly all sweet smiles and composure, but her touch promised to drive him absolutely crazy. And he had more than a green light this time; he had an invitation.

Eric tilted his head to kiss her – really kiss her – and she couldn't suppress the contented sigh that left her as their mouths melded together. He reached up, fingers grazing her collarbone and then tangling into her hair. Cradling her head in his hands, he felt her racing pulse beneath his palm; it would've been a fun indicator, but currently coupled with her labored breathing it was only a worrisome reminder.

His kiss softened, and with one gentle, lingering kiss to her lips, he tilted his head away just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

"Eric," she whispered, trying to urge him back to her. They'd barely gotten a real kiss and now that she'd tasted him stopping was not anywhere within the realm of possibility. From the briefest press of his lips and graze of his tongue, she was already longing for more.

With a pleased smirk, he noticed her tone had changed. She was breathless, affected. Her eyes danced between his, her fingertips just barely grazing his buzzed hair as she again urged him back to her.

But he only placed the softest kiss to the corner of her mouth and smiled. Slowly, his fingers skirted over her skin, pausing at her quickening pulse before he trailed down the base of her throat. His palm rested over the bare skin of her chest, unknowingly not at all helping the whole racing pulse thing.

He felt her rapid breathing – her chest expanding with her lungs as they tried to take in enough oxygen. Her body wasn't quite losing oxygen; it just took a quicker breathing rate to get what she needed considering the already questionable oxygen saturation in the room. It wasn't a dire situation, but it worried him. It was more than enough to make his own pulse race.

"You need your air," he simply said, his hand trailing over her skin again to tuck a lock of soft blonde hair behind her ear.

She smiled – that shy smile she always gave when something touched her but she was afraid to let it run too deep.

"No I don't," she insisted. Turning further towards him, she curled her legs in and his hand skirted down to her thigh, marveling at the newfound intimacy.

Calleigh bit her lip as her fingers glided over his taut muscles, tracing the ridges of his abs even through the undershirt. Moving upward, her palm slid along his shoulders before finally resting at the back of his head. His skin was damp with the lightest beginnings of perspiration from the heat. Grinning, she urged him back to her, lips just barely brushing his teasingly, enticingly, hoping to persuade him to abandon his reservations.

For a moment he let her, basking in the feel of her soft lips delicately pressing against his own. He kissed her back once, twice, and when she tilted her head to part her lips and kiss him deeper, he obliged, unable to resist tasting her again. Finally reining in his self-control again, he pulled back and pressed his forehead to hers once more, chuckling lightly as she made the tiniest noise of protest.

She seemed okay, but there was absolutely no reason he wanted to deprive her of the smallest amount of oxygen. So he kissed her jaw instead of her mouth and slowly made his way down, pressing teasing, open mouth kisses along her sensitive neck. Just as his lips closed in on a spot beneath her ear, his fingers curved around the back of her thigh and her breath hitched, eliciting a pleased smirk from him.

"I'm not kissing you so that you can breathe," he mumbled against her skin, his voice rough and gravelly in her ear. She laughed as she exhaled, fingers scratching his buzzed hair, gently holding him close. Even in the darkness and without looking, he knew she was blushing.

His hand hesitantly settled on her hip, where her dress pants ceased hugging her curves and her thin top afforded him near-contact with bare skin. He toyed with the hem of the white material and she smiled, never having imagined Eric to be so careful and hesitant. He was always respectful, she was sure, but this was different.

His fingers finally crept beneath, gracing her skin with the most delicate yet possessive touch she'd ever experienced. She wanted nothing more than to feel him everywhere, but their surroundings were becoming more and more imperative the further their need for privacy increased.

"Eric," she whispered distractedly. "We're in somebody's house. We…" Her half-hearted protests died as his soft lips closed around the skin at her pulse point, applying the perfect amount of pressure – too much yet not enough, exactly the combination to drive her crazy. His thumb grazed her ribs and she felt goosebumps prickle along her skin, her senses heightened.

Calleigh sighed contentedly, her hand sliding over the well-defined muscles in his broad shoulders and down to his arm, cradling his elbow.

"Eric," she urged, reluctantly pulling him away. "They could have cameras in here…"

"It's dark," he pointed out, grinning as he kissed the base of her ear lobe, eliciting a shiver from deep beneath her skin. Despite the warnings going off in her mind, she closed her eyes, letting sensation overtake her as his hands glided up her sides, bunching the fabric at her ribs.

They had waited years for this – for feelings and motivations to align, to taste and touch without inhibition. They'd endured over nine years of pent-up sexual tension, and it had taken being stuck in a nine by twelve foot room for it to all come to surface in less than an hour.

"Cal," he breathed out, cupping her cheek with one hand to gently bring her lips back to his. A brief kiss quickly turned into more and his tongue had just barely grazed her lips when the distinct sound of gears turning had them scrambling to opposite sides of the room.

They barely had time to react before daylight crept in through the receding door, blinding them both as they braced against the wall, chests heaving, hands on holsters…

Their eyes gradually adjusted to the light, now able to distinguish the undeniable silhouettes of Horatio and Ryan.

- - -

As a patrol cop and a CSI, Ryan Wolfe had saved countless people from some pretty sticky situations. Most were bored with nothing to pass the time, downtrodden from being trapped, and eager to rush to the opening at the faintest trace of light. Calleigh and Eric, who were suspiciously positioned at opposite sides of the room, sat there with the same deer-in-headlights look, both breathless and in disarray.

Calleigh discreetly smoothed her wrinkled tank top.

The tiniest smirk curved Ryan's lips upward as his eyes danced between them both. Calleigh and Eric were the least grateful people he'd ever rescued. In fact, he was pretty sure getting stuck in that panic room was the best damned thing that had ever happened to either of them.