"Look after the Princess," James instructed tersely, as if Jasper was ever going to do anything else. Eleanor had her arm around Imogen, and guided her down the narrow hallway, looking back over her shoulder at Jasper as she stepped around the prone figures on the floor. He gestures with his free hand that she should keep walking. He still has his gun out at his side, and he's listening for any sounds behind him.
Eleanor stops at the elevator bank, and moves to hit the call button. He reaches out to stop her and notices that one of her nails is broken. "There's a service elevator," he says, leading them around a corner to a service lift, which is locked open on their floor. He takes them down to a loading dock in the underground car park, and unlocks the waiting car with the fob in his pocket. The car is a nondescript black sedan, it's the one James had been driving earlier, and it is free of any flags or other Palace markings. He ushers the girls into the back seat and shuts the door authoritatively. He pulls a black gym bag out of the boot of the car before opening the driver's side door and shoves the bag onto the passenger seat before climbing in.
He drives out of the car park, and yields to the police car running lights and sirens racing towards the hotel they've just left. No one says a word as he drives down the road, past high-end boutiques and trendy restaurants. After a few silent blocks he turns left down an alley, pulls into a small parking lot with signs that say "Customer Parking Only" and slams the car into park in a handicapped space. Jasper ignores the nasty look Eleanor throws his way in the rear-view mirror and begins digging through the gym bag.
"Jasper! What the hell are we…" Eleanor starts.
"Don't!" He cuts her off before she can finish. He wants to shout at her, to ask if she's lost her goddamn mind, to make her see some fraction of sense. Does she have any idea how much danger she was in? His eyes are flashing, and he's turned around to kneel in the driver's seat so he can have better access to the back of the car. Eleanor can see that he's livid. She knows that she should have been more cautious, but she was trying to help a friend, to be a friend. She wants to give Jasper some explanation, not that she owes him one. Jasper of all people! She wants to make an excuse, or at least not let him shut her up, but there is something about the look in his face, the set of his jaw, that stops her.
Imogen makes a soft sobbing sound. She's unwrapped herself from Eleanor's arm and has inched back towards the door. Jasper and Eleanor stop glaring daggers at each other and turn to look at her. She has curled herself into a ball in the corner of the seat, and looks very small wrapped up in Jasper's suitcoat. Bruises are starting to come up on her face, and her right eye is puffing up, so it's hard to see where she's looking precisely, but her eyes are darting back and forth through swollen lids, like a hunted rabbit.
Jasper realizes that the gym bag is making her nervous. "It's okay," he says softly. "You're safe, I promise. It's just first aid stuff. Let's see if we can't clean you up a little." This is a tone of voice that Eleanor recognizes, but she's never heard him use it in the daylight. "Len," he says, "take this." He hands the bag over the passenger seat and sets in in her lap. He's making an effort to keep his hands where Imogen can see them. "I'm just going to put this away," he says, pulling his gun out of his shoulder holster. He turns and locks it in the glove box behind him. "It's over," he tells Imogen, still in the same soft, almost cajoling voice. His British accent is gone. "You're fine."
Jasper looks at Eleanor. "There's some clean clothes in there, a top, and some yoga stuff." She looks inside the gym bag and produces them, neatly folded, in her size. She shoots Jasper a questioning look, and hands the clothes to Imogen. Jasper carefully looks anywhere but at Imogen as she slips out of his jacket and pulls the top over her head. He pulls the bag back onto the center console, where he can more easily reach it. Imogen gingerly slips into the proffered clothes.
Jasper takes a medicine bottle out of the bag and spills a handful of pills into his palm.
"You should take some of these." He tries to hand them to Imogen, but she shakes her head and won't take them. "It's just Paracetamol, 200 milligrams, see." He turn the bottle over, so she can read the label. "Watch." He takes two and swallows them dry, and makes a face. "It's not a trick, they're just painkillers."
There is a small bar set up in the door of the car, stocked with miniature liquor bottles and spring water. Eleanor opens a bottle of water and hands it to Jasper, a peace offering. She hands a second bottle to Imogen and takes the remaining pills from her bodyguard. "It's okay," Eleanor repeats. She catches Jasper's eye, and gives him a small smile when Imogen puts the medicine in her mouth.
Jasper digs back into the bag again and retrieves a chemical icepack. Imogen flinches when he cracks it to mix the chemicals. "Sorry," he says to her, still using his most gentle voice. "Here," he hands the icepack over. "It won't stay cold for very long, but it will help your eye." Jasper hands the bag back to Eleanor
"You need the hospital," Eleanor says.
Imogen shakes her head again. "No! I don't want to go the hospital."
"I can stay with you," Eleanor insists. Jasper shifts in the front seat. He doesn't say anything, but he raises his eyebrows and his look clearly says: "Like Hell you can!"
"We can call Holden. You remember him… from the party…" Eleanor tries again. "He can stay with you at the hospital and then bring you back to the Palace when the doctors are done."
"No," Imogen says. "They will ask a lot of questions." Imogen directs this to Jasper, who nods at her.
"Well, yeah…." Eleanor presses, "but Victor will be in jail by then... and his other goons. He can't get to you…." She trails off. Jasper and Imogen are both looking at her now, like she has missed a joke that everyone else understands. "What?" She demands.
"No one is going to jail." Imogen states, flatly.
"Of course, they are!" Eleanor huffs. She flounces in her seat in irritation, glaring at Jasper, daring him to contradict her too. "Assault and battery! Involuntary imprisonment! Kidnapping! Come off it!"
Jasper exhales, slowly. "That's not really how it works," he says. He doesn't want to get into the details, but Imogen is not the first girl in a bad situation he's removed from a big name hotel.
Eleanor is gradually seeing the light, but she's fighting it. "James is there. You saw the police cars. What are they for then?"
"The cops are for show. James will make sure that Victor," he glances at Imogen, "and the goons probably, are on the next flight back to Russia. He'll charter one if he has to. James worked for Scotland Yard for years."
"If you tell them what happened…" Eleanor says to Imogen. She's fussing with Jasper's discarded suit jacket, she wants something to do with her hands.
Imogen shakes her head. "I don't want to tell them what happened. I just want it to be over."
"It is over." Jasper assures her. "You'll be safe at the Palace until you decide what you want to do next."
Eleanor opens her mouth to argue again, and Imogen puts her hand on her arm. "They aren't knights in shining armor," Imogen says, glancing again at Jasper. "It's not going to be a fairy tale. I'd just like to get cleaned up. Please?"
Eleanor shrugs in defeat. "If you're sure that's what you want," she says. She looks at Jasper. "Can you drive us home, please?"
No one talks on the drive back to the Palace. Jasper parks the sedan in the garage and retrieves his side arm from the glove box. Eleanor wordlessly hands him back his jacket, and he escorts the girls through the Residence to Eleanor's bedroom. He takes up the security post outside her door, leaning his back against the papered wall, willing his heart rate to slow back to normal. He glances at the camera in the hallway and wonders, absently, who is in the control room to watch it.
He's surprised when Eleanor sticks her head out of the double doors. "I want to talk to you," she says.
He meets her eye and raises one eyebrow. She hasn't wanted to talk to him in a long time.
"Thank you," she's trying to make sure she doesn't sound begrudging, "for coming to get us."
"Your welcome." He's very aware of the fact that in an emergency, James was the person she'd thought to call, not him. He was only riding shotgun, and only got that role because James had been following him anyway.
"And for not shouting at me."
He laughs quietly, and she keeps going. "I should have been more careful, should have seen…"
"It's okay," he tells her. "You didn't know. You were trying to help."
"Did you know?" She comes to stand next to him in the hallway, slouching next to him against the wall, making sure that their shoulders are not touching.
"No. Holden thought something was weird. He mentioned it the other night…. But there was a lot of shit going on…"
"Shit going on?" she echoes. "You mean stealing a national treasure, smashing my heart under your shoe, that kind of shit?"
He sighs. "Yeah, that kind of shit." He looks at her. Her face is serious, but she's not angry, exactly. He takes a chance. "Technically, the national treasure wasn't actually stolen." He's not going near the heart smashing accusation. "But I dropped the ball on the Imogen thing."
Eleanor scoffs. "That bag in the car… is there another one, with clothes that fit Liam in it?"
"No."
"Because you and James think I make dumb choices…."
Jasper shakes his head. "You got her out. It was the right call. No one thinks you're dumb." Impulsive, erratic, crazy maybe, but definitely not dumb.
"Do you always carry Narcan in your coat pocket?"
He turns to look at her. She must have found it when she was had his coat in the car. "It seemed safer." He'd badgered Dr. Cohen into writing the prescription the morning they got back from Paris. He's been carrying it for ages. He thinks it's insane that Ted hasn't stocked it all over the Palace.
She exhales. "Yeah." She's quiet for a minute. "I don't think you're going to need it."
"No," he agrees. "Not for you. There's Cyrus though…."
That gets him a smile. "You'd never use it for Cyrus."
He smirks back at her. This is probably not true, but Cyrus is Ted's problem. Jasper has enough on his plate.
There is so much more they need to say to each other. They aren't going to say any of it today. From inside her bedroom, they can hear the running water from the shower turn off.
"I'm going to go see what else I can do for her." Eleanor turns to go back inside. Over her shoulder, she gives him a wan smile, "You know, you're kind of a shitty knight in armor."
There's not anyone who is going to disagree with that sentiment. He laughs, and nods, "Yeah. I'll work on it."
"I'm not such a great Princess either." She shuts the door before he can answer.
He stays at his post, his thoughts stewing, until his phone pings. It's James, telling him he's back and that Jasper is free to go. He sends one more look back towards Eleanor's door, and then walks down the hall towards the tunnel door.