About eight months or so married ...

Cali cursed as she poured hydrogen peroxide over the semi-deep cut on her hand before blotting it with paper towels ripped from the dispenser.

The perp had knifed her as she wrestled him to the ground. She had managed to cuff him, but she'd bled like a stuck pig all the way back to the station. Jay had asked her if she needed stitches—he'd be happy to drive her to see his brother at Chicago Med—but she had waved him away, citing she'd be fine.

She had escaped to the bathroom and shucked her bloody flannel shirt that she had used to temporarily wrap the wound while in Jay's truck. She was in the locker room attempting to bandage it with gauze and medical tape when her husband barged in, incensed about her injury, having been tipped off by Jay.

Cali cursed Jay too under her breath as Hank slammed the door behind him.

"What's this I hear about you getting knifed and refusing medical attention?" he demanded.

She stood her ground, not literally as she was sitting on one of the benches near her locker, and defiantly lifted her chin as she looked him.

"It's a flesh wound, Sarge," Cali said, deliberately using his title as a reminder she wasn't his wife at the moment and to deflect any emotion he would try to elicit from her as such. "Nothing a little first aid and bandage won't fix. No sense in wasting time with a trip to the ED."

Hank manhandled her arm and ripped back the tape and bandage so he could inspect it for himself.

"Damn it, Hank!" Cali said, narrowing her eyes at him. "I said I'm fine. Don't you think I'd know the difference between a flesh wound and a severe injury that needed medical attention?"

The truth was Hank did. However, he was pissed she had gotten hurt and he wanted the bastard to pay for it. He released her arm and she huffed as she worked at re-taping it.

"I'm taking you to Med so they can properly treat that wound and …" Hank said before Cali interrupted him.

"Like hell!" Cali retorted as she stood up and reached for her locker handle. Hank forcefully grabbed her uninjured hand and stopped her.

"It's not up for discussion, Detective," he said, pulling rank. "You will get checked out at Med so they can file a report and the perp can be brought up on additional charges for assaulting an officer."

Deflated by his reasoning, Cali sighed and nodded.

"Yes sir," she replied, not looking at him.

"Quick thinking to put peroxide on it," Dr. Will Halstead commented as he sutured her hand. "When is the last time you had a tetanus shot?"

"More than a year ago," Cali said as she flexed her other hand. "Went to break up a bar fight and got stabbed with a broken beer bottle."

Will quickly wiped the smile off his face as Hank frowned. He finished by wrapping her hand in a bright neon pink elastic bandage.

"You're good to go," Will said as he gathered the medical supplies. He glanced at Hank. "I will get that report submitted by end of shift."

"Thanks, Will," Cali said as she slid off the gurney. Hank held out her coat so she could put it on.

"Appreciate it, Doc," Hank said, shaking Will's hand as they exited the med bay.

"Try not to get stabbed or knifed any more," Will called, joshing his brother's partner as she walked away.

Cali refrained from flipping him off, so as not to be unprofessional in front of the medical staff and her boss, instead settling on rolling her eyes.

Hank didn't say much on the ride home, and Cali wasn't sure how to interpret that. After about 10 blocks, she blew out a breath.

"So are you mad I didn't go straight to Med, or mad because you didn't know I'd been injured before? Or is it something completely unrelated?" she finally asked.

Hank worked and grit his jaw a bit before speaking.

"What I don't understand is your inclination for acting first and thinking second," he darkly replied.

Cali snorted.

"Are you serious right now? Talk about calling the kettle black," she snapped.

"One of these days it's going to get you killed," he snapped back.

"And one of these days, YOU will get killed because of it," she countered. "You're not immune either, Hank."

Cali sighed and leaned her head against the headrest. "I know you think you're responsible for protecting your team, for protecting me. But you need to remember you're human and you're a husband. My husband, who I'd like to have around for a while."

Hank growled. He knew he had met his match in the woman sitting next to him.

"And I'd like to have you around a while, too. Which means you're benched until I can figure out what to do with you," he said.

Cali slammed her uninjured hand on the dash, her eyes flashing at him.

"You've got to be frickin kidding me, right?!" she shouted. "You're going to chain me to a desk, answering phones upstairs, like a rookie … all because you've got a personal problem with my instincts as a cop? What's the point of keeping me on your team, then?"

Hank instantly pulled over and threw the SUV in park before angrily turning to her and gesturing with his index finger.

"I've never doubted for one second that you're good police," he said in a tone she'd only heard him use in the interrogation room or the cage. "But I will be damned if I don't teach you how to rein in that impulsiveness. Don't forget when you're sporting that star … I'm still your boss. So if you think your talents are better served elsewhere, I will support you … as your husband. Your choice."

Cali sucked in a breath and then exhaled, trying to calm herself. She hated to admit that he had her dead to rights. Her impulsiveness had created numerous close calls in career and in her personal life; in fact, it was one of the reasons she wouldn't ever be able to physically have children.

"You're right," she conceded after a moment. "I need to learn how to control my impulsiveness, especially on duty. If it means riding a desk while you try to figure out the best way to train me, then I'm willing to do that."

"I've been a cop for over 20 years, and I've seen the good ones lose it all because they didn't check themselves. Like I said, you're good police, Cali," Hank told her, softening his features a bit. "I wouldn't have chosen you for my team if I didn't believe that. I only want you to succeed."

Cali gave him a half smile. He rested his hand on her thigh.

"Ready to go home?" he gently asked. She covered his hand with hers and nodded.