Note: Sorry I've been MIA! Turns out my time for writing just disappears when I work full time, especially in the summers when weekends are so busy! But I was happy to finally get some time and inspiration to post this. Hopefully a chapter of One Week is next!

Chapter Title: Sorry
Timeline/Reference Episode: Post-ep for 2x10 – Extreme
Summary: Calleigh makes a peace offering to Eric after assuming he got into trouble over a younger woman.

Calleigh: (collecting evidence) "Have you talked to Eric?"
Speedle: (taking pictures) "No. He's really screwing up."
Calleigh: (playfully) "He must have a new lady friend."

Calleigh: (walking into the lab) "Hey, prize fighter."
Eric: (looking up) "Hey." (pause) "More like prize punching bag." (continues collecting evidence)
Calleigh: (recognizing the shirt he's working on) "That's your shirt. Did you forget your lint brush?"
Eric: "No. Just lookin' for evidence."
Calleigh: (smiling) "Okay. Let me get this straight: You were walking by, you found a chop shop. You stopped and got into a fight."
Eric: "Not exactly."
Calleigh: (smiling teasingly) "How old is she?"
Eric: (seriously) "It's not like that." (Calleigh stares at him disbelievingly) "Seriously."
~ 2x10 Extreme

Eric was hobbling from his kitchen to post up on his couch when the doorbell rang. With a staggered sigh – it hurt when he breathed in or out too deeply – he drew his arm over his sore abdomen and slowly began his journey to the front door. He was really starting to wonder about his ability to function tomorrow, because if the "day two is always worse" saying applied to getting your ass kicked, he was surely in trouble.

He finally made it to his front door, pushing the curtain on the adjacent window aside to check who was on his front porch. One corner of his lips twitched, annoyed but slightly amused. It was Calleigh, holding up a six-pack of his favorite Veza Sur beer in a peace offering in one hand, a grocery bag in her other.

He winced as he began to open the door, masking it well by the time she could see him.

"Hey," she said softly, a lot less teasing than she'd been earlier because apparently Eric was more than a little sensitive about the motives behind his incident today. Her voice was unusually soft and sweet, and it was an unexpected balm to his battered heart and ego.

She opened up the storm door for him; despite his best attempts to hide the pain in his features and the stiffness in his movements, she could tell. "Can I come in?"

Eric's lips tightened. "Since you're already twenty minutes out of your way with my favorite beer?" He raised a brow. "Yeah, I guess."

Calleigh rolled her eyes at his tone and stepped through the threshold as he backed inside to let her in. He quickly ducked into his kitchen to grab a bottle opener as she knowingly pulled two bottles out of the six-pack, holding them out while he snapped the tops off. Her perceptive eyes took in the masked grimace that the simple movement of his trunk elicited – a twitch of his lips and eye on that side. But she was silent, simply letting one of the bottles free as he took it from her and tilted it up to his lips.

"What's in the bag?" he asked curiously.

She passed it to him and waited.

"Frozen peas?" he asked skeptically after peering in.

"For your side," she said, doing her best to stay casual despite her worries. Worrying would piss him off again. Worrying would make him even more likely to tough out something that might actually need medical attention. She had to play her cards right. "You get x-rayed or anything?" she asked as they moved into his living room.

His eyes flickered to hers, and she was worried she'd tread too deep into concern so she casually lifted the bottle to her mouth, taking a long, somewhat captivating sip and then licking her lips while her eyes held his. Looking down, she scooped her hair over one shoulder and twisted it with her hand, relieving her back of long, thick blonde hair in addition to the Florida heat and humidity.

She was also conveniently using her feminine wiles to the best of her ability, and between that distraction and the casual way she'd asked, his suspicion and anger were tempered.

"Nah, it's just bruised," he insisted, in a way that had her wondering if he was still convincing himself, too.

"Can I see?"

Because he knew she was asking as both a friend and coworker who had seen a lot of injuries, he slowly lifted his shirt up – gingerly, because it hurt to lift his arm on that side – and revealed the blossoming, darkening bruising that was splotched across his abdomen and ribs.

She bit her lip at the severity, and maybe a little bit at the chiseled ridges of muscles that twitched as soon as her fingertips brushed against his skin.

"That bad?" she asked, though she was able to gently run her fingers along the contours of his ribs.

"Your fingers are just cold." Eric nodded toward the ice cold beer bottle her fingers had been grasping just before she'd touched him, and she smiled apologetically.

"Sorry." She bent down to get a closer look, pressing gently over each rib until he hissed in response and her lips tightened.

"Don't be. Feels good actually." Her eyes darted up to his questioningly and he immediately tripped over his words, tongue darting out to wet his loose lips. "The cold, I mean."

In silent response, she took the frozen peas out of the bag and gently pressed them against his side, his hand brushing hers as it took over the task.

"You should really get an x-ray, you know," she told him, trying not to sound like a nag. "It's really swollen and tender right over your rib." Those were just facts, and her sensibility cut through his defenses.

"Well, what are they gonna do for a broken rib?" he reasoned right back. "Try to give me some painkillers and tell me to rest?" His breathing hitched as he pressed the peas into his side a little too forcefully.

"Or put you on light duty," Calleigh pointed out, getting to the real root of the problem. He didn't want to be taken out of the field and have anyone make a fuss, especially not for a somewhat personal ordeal. "All it would take is one punch or kick from a suspect, or a tackle, to make that a whole lot worse."

Calleigh lifted her bottle to her lips again, hoping he'd follow her lead as she made her way to the couch. And he did, settling in at the other end and wedging the peas between the throw pillow and his body to free his hands.

Eric sighed, and she knew she'd gotten through to him. "I'll tell Horatio if it's bad tomorrow."

She nodded once in agreement, happy they had a deal, and watched him take a long swig from his bottle. There was a comfortable silence for a few moments before she spoke again.

"You wanna tell me why you were at that house?"

She wasn't teasing or interrogating this time, just simply asking – giving him the chance to explain himself after being overly sensitive earlier.

Only he wasn't particularly interested in justifying actions that didn't need justifying. Everyone seemed to think Eric Delko had yet again gotten himself into trouble over a girl he was hooking up with. God forbid he'd actually just been in the wrong place at the wrong time while doing a neighbor a favor.

"Not really," he scoffed, shooting her a look.

She tilted her head, leveling with him. "Come on, Eric."

"It's fine, I already got lectured on crossing lines and helping people out," he spat out.

She narrowed her eyes and turned to face him, curling a leg in and up onto his couch. "What do you mean?"

"Apparently as a cop, I have to be careful about who I help out," he said sarcastically, shrugging in exasperation.

"Who told you that?"

"Horatio."

She actually laughed, accompanying it with a roll of her eyes as he watched her. "You mean the king of inserting himself into situations he isn't involved in?"

A smirk – something that was few and far between today – tugged at one corner of his lips. He'd been seething at the hypocrisy on the way home, but he'd written it off, letting his bruised ego and body take the spotlight of his frustrations.

"Right?" He was smiling a little now, and Calleigh was still shaking her head at Horatio. After another few comfortable moments of silence, he continued. "There's this woman who lives around the block...closer in to where the bad part of town seems to be spreading out. I'd always see them on my runs." He paused and shifted the peas against his side. "Lots of people down that way, they stay in these days. The houses are falling apart, gardens are overrun with weeds. But her family was always out. Her husband was always out fixing stuff, kid playing in the yard, she'd be gardening or helping him chase the kid around in between fixing broken fence posts. I'd wave, they'd wave back...seemed happy to see another regular old neighbor out and about."

He stopped again, lips tightening a little in appreciation of the domesticity. "Then suddenly I never saw them. The house just kinda went dark. So I knocked one day to check on them, let her know I was a cop and I just wanted to make sure they were okay."

Eric swallowed, averting his eyes from the aimless gaze that had been fixed on the coffee table and up to Calleigh's bright green awaiting eyes. "Her husband died and suddenly she was a single mom – in that part of town." He breathed out, shaking his head disapprovingly. "So I've been helping her out here and there. I was fixing her car when those guys jumped me."

Calleigh smiled sadly and sympathetically, trying not to let Eric know he'd gotten to her.

"You don't seem surprised."

"Why would I be surprised?" Her eyes held his and she shrugged, running her thumb through the condensation on the outside of her bottle. "Sounds exactly like the Eric Delko I know."

Eric smirked again, defenses down as he spoke with a hint of amusement this time. "Really? Cause earlier you seemed to think I only got into trouble cause of sleeping with younger women."

Calleigh laughed, shaking her head in dismissal of her earlier words. "We just like to tease you; you make it easy sometimes."

Now it was Eric's turn to roll his eyes, but he was still a lot more open and unguarded than he had been earlier.

"Seriously though," Calleigh began, reaching her leg out to bump his knee affectionately with the end of her shoe. "I'm sorry for assuming."

Her eyes held his until he smiled, leaning forward to clink his bottle against hers before they both took a swig.

"Apology accepted."

He was too busy letting the taste linger on his lips and shoving the peas further against his side to feel the weight of her gaze, her eyes softening as her lips curved upward. He was sweet – she'd always known that. But now she knew he had softer spot than she'd even realized for those in need. And now she also knew that she had a bit of a soft spot for him, her brows furrowing with a hint of confusion at that revelation.