Because
Pairing: Speed/Calleigh
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: CBS owns everything.
Notes: For the LiveJournal CSReports "Virtual Rewind" challenge, to the Beatles song title challenge.
Calleigh's barely had time to hang up from yet another call from Dana at the Whiskey Stop before she becomes aware of a presence at her elbow. She knows who it is, glances up at him and is about to make her excuses until he asks, "Your dad?" She nods, and his hand lands on her shoulder for a brief moment, squeezes gently. "Let's go," is all he says.
She wants to tell him that he doesn't have to do this, but she can't find the words somehow. So she lets him lead her out into the parking lot, lets him drive them downtown, lets him watch as she talks her dad out of the bar and into the car, lets him listen as her father calls her "Lampchop", tells her once again that this is the last time this is going to happen, asks to be introduced to Tim for what seems like the hundredth time.
By the time they get to her dad's place, she's already exhausted, near tears, but Tim is still there. He helps her get her dad out of the car, helps him to his bedroom, and when he deposits him on the bed, he's out like a light almost at once.
Wordlessly, Tim's arm goes around Calleigh's waist and he leads her back to the car, drives her home in silence. She's grateful that he's not forcing her to talk, because if she had to, she knows that she'd burst out crying. He pulls up outside her apartment building, and walks her inside, helps her off with her jacket before rubbing her shoulders gently. She just wants to go to bed, but he has other ideas. "Go take a bath," he tells her, and it's not a suggestion. "I'll make us something to eat."
She does as she's told, but even the bath can't relax her, because she can't help but wonder when he's going to get sick of her family dysfunction, when he's going to realise that she doesn't deserve him.
She stays there until the water is cold, and when she emerges, Tim is the first thing she sees, standing over something delicious smelling on the table. He turns and smiles, and tears come into her eyes. For the first time he looks worried, crosses to her and puts his hands on her arms. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he begins, and she shakes her head, wiping her eyes impatiently.
"Why do you do this?" she asks softly, amazed.
He shrugs. "Because."
She waits, and when it becomes clear that's all he's going to say, she prompts him. "Because?"
He doesn’t answer, just moves his hands to cup her face, his eyes never leaving hers. "Because," he repeats, and that's when she sees in his eyes everything he's not saying.
She can't speak again, but this time for a good reason, so she slides her arms around his waist, holds on tight. She's got all the answer she needs.