Chapter 6

Ten o'clock rolled around and Eric roused lazily. Something was tickling his neck, he realized, which felt kind of nice. The rest of his body, however, was screaming in protest.

"Cal," he whispered. The rhythm of her breathing changed a bit, but she didn't wake. "Calleigh, I need to move."

She shifted against him, sleepy eyes coming up to meet Eric's. Suddenly becoming aware of her current location, Calleigh's fog quickly dissipated. "Oh, Eric. I'm sorry." She carefully peeled herself from his side and lifted herself off the couch, stretching her weary muscles. Her shoulders twinged with the earlier strain of pulling Eric over the railing. She could only imagine how much he hurt right now.

"What time is it?" she asked, helping him sit up on the couch.

"Five past ten," he responded, gingerly testing his aching body. A glance around the room told him his mother had been busy even while her son slept. The coffee table was void of the feast it previously boasted, and he noticed that a blanket had appeared over the two of them that wasn't there when they fell asleep.

"Ugh," Calleigh groaned, scrubbing her eyes. "I have to call Horatio. Need anything?"

"A hot shower and my bed," he said without missing a beat. "Help me up."

She wrapped a gentle arm around his waist and steadied him as he slowly stood up. The world spun. "Easy," Calleigh murmured.

"I'm fine," he sighed and pressed a kiss to her hair. He really was okay. Sore, and dreading the prospect of trying to bathe with stitches and a brace on his arm, but okay. "Go call Horatio, I'll probably be a while."

"Alright," the woman said cautiously, "but holler if you need something."

"Okay."

An hour later, a freshly scrubbed Eric found Calleigh sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of hot tea and giggling at something his father had just said.

"You're betrayal stings, papi," he called jokingly, knowing that his father was most likely regaling Calleigh with tales from his rather colorful childhood. He poured himself a cup of tea and joined the pair at the table. "Where's mami?"

"She went to bed," Pavel explained in his endearing Russian accent. "She wakes up at five tomorrow, to help with the festival at the church."

"She left strict instructions," Calleigh explained with a gleam in her eye, "that you are to sleep late, and I am not allowed to leave for at least two days."

Eric laughed. "Of course she did."

"We have enough food in the fridge to feed a small army," she added.

"Sounds right. Did you talk to H?"

Cal swallowed her tea and nodded. "Tripp tracked down the—" she shot a glance to Pavel and reconsidered her choice of words, "the man that attacked you. His name is Craig Leighton. He's wanted in Pennsylvania on a murder charge."

"Damn," Eric sighed. "What about the couple in the apartment?"

"Ryan took over. Looks open and shut—the husband owed Leighton a hefty sum of cash, Leighton came to collect."

"Mmm. Well, at least that's over." His voice was tired.

Pavel saw the slump in Eric's shoulders. "My son, you should sleep. Your work can wait."

"He's right, Eric," Calleigh agreed. "Horatio gave us both the week off."

"Bullet- girl? Take a break from her precious guns?" Eric scoffed.

She did love her job, and she hated taking time off from work, but Calleigh thought she could make an exception this time. It struck her as ironic that Jake had bugged and harassed her for weeks to take a short trip to Aruba with him, but she didn't think twice about spending a week away from the Lab with Eric.

"I'm turning a new leaf," she winked. Grabbing Eric's now empty mug, she shooed him away from the table and toward his room at the back of the house. "Now, go!"

"Night, papi," he laughed.

Pavel stood as well, arching his back to ease the muscles there. "Yes. Time for this old man to go to bed. You two behave," he joked over his shoulder on his way out of the kitchen. He said the last part in Russian so that only Eric could understand, but Calleigh caught the drift of his comment as Eric blushed a faint shade of pink.

"Goodnight, papi," he repeated.

Pavel was already half-way down the hall. "Goodnight, son," he said mischievously. "Goodnight, moya solnyshko."

Eric and Calleigh both burst into laughter. "You two seemed to hit it off," Eric stated with amusement. "Solnyshko?"

"Who knows," she replied merrily, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "He's a piece of work. C'mon, let's go," she said as she cleared the remnants of their late night snack from the table. The day had been a rollercoaster for her, physically and emotionally, and she was ready to put it all behind her. Well, not all of it…

As they walked down the hall, Eric said, "I'll get you something to sleep in. There's an extra toothbrush in the…bottom…drawer of the cabinet, I think."

"'Kay."

A minute later, Calleigh was brushing her teeth when Eric entered the bathroom with an old pair of sweats and a ragged t-shirt. "These are the smallest I could find. I'm sure the girls have some stuff around here somewhere…" Eric's oldest sister was almost eleven years older than her little brother; Mari was six years his senior and closest to him in age. For all of junior high and high school, Eric was the last one left at home. Thus, his sisters' things hadn't lingered in the house like his.

Cal pulled the toothbrush from her mouth. "No, these are fine."

There was something oddly familiar about Calleigh standing before him, talking to him with her mouth full of toothpaste and her hair pulled messily out of her face. "Hey, Cal." He set the clothes on the counter by the sink. "I, um, I know my mom set up the guest room for you…but I was wondering if you would stay with me tonight."

Calleigh finished brushing her teeth and rinsed her mouth out with water. She grinned playfully and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand after she spit demurely into the sink.

"Very ladylike," Eric smirked.

"Thank you," she smirked back and performed a sarcastic little curtsy. Her features turned thoughtful as she leaned against the counter and considered Eric's request. "Would your mom be okay with that?"

"Yeah. Knowing my mother, the spare room was her Plan B," he admitted sheepishly.

"I got that feeling," Calleigh noted shrewdly, somewhat amused. "Go crawl in bed. Give me five minutes."

Eric let out the breath he'd been holding and dropped a kiss to her cheek. "Thanks."

Soon Calleigh was rapping lightly on Eric's door.

"It's open."

He burst into laughter the moment he caught sight of her. "You're drowning."

Cal looked down at her apparel, tugged on the t-shirt and shrugged. "I take it you weren't exactly a string bean in high school," she commented.

"I take after Pops," Eric informed her. "Besides…swimming in Miami? You're pumping weights before you hit puberty."

He had a point. "Well, it'll be a while before you hit the gym again."

Eric leaned back against the headboard of his queen size bed and groaned in irritation. "Who the hell cleared that apartment, anyway?" he groused.

"I don't know. It's done, though, Eric. I don't want to think about it." Calleigh had plopped herself on the edge of Eric's bed, and now she was pulling her hair out of its ponytail and settling herself against the pillows next to him. She drew her knees up to her chest and crossed her ankles, arms keeping legs firmly in place.

"Me either. So, moya solnyshko, what are we doing tomorrow?"

"Whatever you want," Calleigh answered. Her attention was only partly on Eric; mostly she was looking around his room, surveying it for the first time. "I've never been in here before."

"Nope," Eric said. "What do you think?"

On the wall to her right was the closet and shelf after shelf of pictures and trophies, stacks of old cassette tapes and CDs, old baseball caps, and various mementos from his childhood. In front of her was Eric's desk and another wide stretch of wall that led to the door. It was covered in picture frames of all shapes and sizes, filled with memories of his family and friends. To Calleigh's immediate left was a small alcove with a bay window that looked over a garden on the side of the house.

"I love it," she smiled. "It's perfect. Very you."

Eric was pleased, and it showed on his face. This room had been his sanctuary growing up. Letting Calleigh in was a big deal for him, and he was glad to think that she liked it.

"Good. You know, I can't remember the last time I spent the night in here."

Calleigh caught the note of nostalgia in his words. "This place is special, isn't it?" she asked softly.

"Yeah. It is."

Eric turned his gaze to meet Calleigh's and got lost there. Her eyes eventually strayed to the bruises on his cheekbones, the stitches marring the olive skin of his forehead, and she shuddered. Scooting over to his side of the bed, she pressed a quick, feather-light kiss to his lips. Before she could pull away, Eric caught her lips in another sweet kiss.

"Night, Cal," he whispered, the corners of his mouth turned up in a content smile.

Calleigh bit her lip to keep from giving in to that same smile. He still saw it.

"Good night," she said.

Eric reached up with his good hand to switch off the lamp at his bedside, and Cal crawled under the covers, facing him. A good two feet separated their bodies as they closed their eyes and drifted to sleep, but both of them somehow knew that come morning, they'd wake up safely entwined in each other.

To the best of my knowledge, moya solnyshko means "my sunshine" in Russian.