"Super glue, gauze, and medical tape?"

The strained voice knocked her out of the tedium of inventory. "I'm sorry?"

"I can't find the super glue, big gauze pads, or medical tape." She turned around to see practically a wall of muscle with dark brown hair searching frantically in the entirely wrong area.

"Well if you're trying to avoid stitches, might I recommend liquid bandage? Basically the same thing as super glue but medical grade and sterile. It's right down here with the bandages." She motioned down to the section of shelves she was counting for inventory, even moving off to the side to give him clear access to the items...which he was completely looking over. "Here." She pulled a bottle of liquid bandage off the shelf at her shoulder followed by the largest gauze pads they carried and a 2 pack of medical tape. She grabbed a basket out of the display at her feet, dropping the items as well as antiseptic spray and alcohol wipes in before handing it over.

"Thank you...Drea." He said, peering at her nametag. Now that the tinge of panic was gone, Drea heard the faint remnants of an accent she couldn't quite place.

"My pleasure. Hope everything works out but, if not, we're open twenty four hours." She couldn't help but watch the way he almost glided towards the checkout, his shoes barely making any noise on the normally squeaky floor.

It was almost a month before the mystery man made another appearance, this time near the end of her shift when she was desperately needing either caffeine or something stronger for her headache. She was trying to put items back that people had (annoyingly!) left on the counter when they changed their minds about buying them but a somewhat familiar silhouette was blocking her way.

"What's on your shopping list today, more liquid bandage or something new?" Drea's smile faded when he turned to face her. An ugly purple bruise covered most of his frankly borderline illegally good looking face along with what looked to be a fresh burn going down the right side of his neck. "Fucking hell what happened to you?!" Her voice was a bit shrill and her choice of language earned her a pointed glare from the pharmacist on duty.

"You should see the other...well, let's just say I came out better looking." He smiled but there was an edge there, under his words, that belied his attempt at humor.

"I don't doubt it but, well, come sit down and let me grab what you probably need."

She led him over to the pharmacy waiting area, noting that he was favoring his right side. She wanted to ask what happened but tall, dark and handsome seemed like a secretive kind of guy. He all but collapsed on the plastic chair in the pharmacy waiting area. "Wait here," Drea said, before going into the back to fetch painkillers. She always felt safe there. Like this was her sanctuary. All these various types of medication were able to take away one's pain, even though it was just a temporary fix. Actually… Now that she had an excuse to use some painkillers, and she was in charge of doing inventory… no one would notice if she just downed a couple herself. She shook out 4 pills, putting 2 into a tiny cup while keeping the other 2 in her hand. She collected the other necessary supplies for treating her patient's injuries and walked back out to the waiting area, but just before she opened the employee's door, she tossed the pills into her mouth and swallowed them dry. She knew the pharmacy inside out, having worked here for 4 years, so she knew where exactly to stand to avoid detection from both the cameras and her boss.

Approaching the stranger, Drea instructed, "Here. Take these." She handed the man the cup of painkillers and a bottle of water. He accepted it, but didn't move to actually swallow them.

"Oh, I don't need these," he said, extending his arm back to Drea.

"What are you, some kind of supersoldier?" Drea laughed at her own joke.

Her patient seemed startled for a microsecond before he laughed along with her, although the mirth didn't quite seem to reach his eyes. Well, he did seem like he went through the wringer, Drea thought, it's not like he'd be in the laughing mood, you idiot.

The man took the pills and tossed his head back to help them go down, exposing a long neck that would be beautiful except for the burn on his neck. Drea swallowed and sat down in the seat beside him. She took out some iodine and gently applied some on his bruise. "So do you have a name or…"

"Um… I'm James," he replied, clearing his throat.

"Well it's nice to meet you… officially."

They lapsed into a somewhat companionable silence as Drea applied more iodine to James' bruise and down onto as much of the burn as she could see, adding burn cream to the iodine once she was done. Ideally, Drea would've thoroughly cleaned the whole burn but given the circumstances, iodine and antibiotic ointment was the best she could do. Drea kept glancing up to make sure she wasn't hurting or making James more uncomfortable than he already was. Once or twice she met his gaze, his blue eyes darting back and forth from her to a random spot behind her. She wanted to convey compassion but neither of them held the other's gaze long enough, James focusing on the wall behind her and Drea trying to concentrate on treating his injuries as best she could. Drea could tell the burn went down past the jacket he was wearing but she didn't think he'd be willing to strip down so she could finish cleaning and treating the area.

"So, I think you'll live, but you really need the rest of that burn cleaned up. Do you have anybody to help you clean and treat the rest of it?" Drea balled up the empty iodine wipes and antibiotic cream packets.

"I can manage." James cringed as he maneuvered his jacket back up higher.

"No, you can't. From the looks of it, that burn goes at least halfway across your back and I can't tell how far down your side. So unless you're double jointed, you're gonna need help. I'm off… now as a matter of fact, so come on." She was stern in her tone and James blinked at the finality of her statement. "It's either this or I call an ambulance." She fished out her cell phone, but James put his left hand out to stop her.

"No hospital."

"Good. Now where are we headed? I'm in Vinegar Hill. You?" Drea motioned for him to walk in front of her, not bothering to clock out. She saw a hint of a smile on James' face as he walked past her.

"Cobble Hill. Normally I would walk back, but I have a feeling you're not having that." He kept cutting glances back at her. James was a quick learner.

The Uber didn't take long, but Drea still found time to remark on how adorable she thought the area was.

"Not a New York native are you?"

"Nope. I've been here for about five years but obviously not long enough to pass for a native." She smiled and blushed to see it was returned.

"Almost, but not quite. The Southern lilt is still there just a bit."

She was impressed. Most people assumed she was from the midwest or Texas. "Not bad. Spend much time in the south?" James shook his head no. "Lemme guess… you're a fan of the accent then?"

"Well yeah, but that's not it. I have an ear for accents. I'm guessing one of the Carolinas or maybe Georgia."

Damn. He was good. "I grew up basically on the South Carolina/Georgia border."

"So this is the famed southern hospitality I've heard about…" James groused as the driver came to more of an abrupt stop than either of them had been expecting, Drea having to reach out to steady herself on James' knee.

"Abso-damned-lutely." She smiled down at her phone, clicking pay on the Uber app, and standing to one side to, hopefully, remind James he needed to go first. But he just stood beside her, adjusting his arm probably to find the least painful position.

"Up the stairs and to the left."

"C'mon, tough guy, you're barely able to walk…" Drea reached out to take his left arm when he flinched away. "You got an injury you didn't mention?"

"I just don't like people being on my left side… or behind me. Here. Door key's the blue one and the red one is the apartment key.."

Drea shook her head but took the key and held the door open for the injured man. She couldn't help but notice how his hand never trembled despite the blistering amount of pain he must be in. "Those painkillers must be working then."

"I have a stupidly high pain tolerance."

Drea opened the door into a huge studio apartment and let out a long whistle. "Wooooow… and you live here alone?"

"Pretty much." He stopped her from going in until he did something on his own phone. Probably disabling a security system. "Why?"

Drea just wandering around the apartment. "Are you rich or something?"

"Kind of. Again… why?"

Everything had been laid out in such a way as to suggest James knew where every belonging was at all times. "Because I haven't seen this much space in New York since the last time I went over to Central Park, let alone in an apartment without three or four people living in it." There was a wall of nothing but swords displayed on it. Movement in her periphery brought Drea back from ogling the apartment as James pulled out a stool from what looked like a workbench and sat down to try and get his jacket off. "Here you're gonna need help…"

"Just gotta get this thing off my right side. Leave it on my left." He grunted as he tried, and failed, to get his injured arm out of the jacket.

So he didn't like people walking behind him or on his left side, didn't want to even show his left side… oh. Must be a vet with a prosthetic. Drea didn't comment or complain how keeping the jacket on could hamper getting his wounds cleaned. She gently pulled the jacket backwards and down a little so James could slide his arm out.

"Well my suspicions were correct. The burns go down most of your side and almost all the way to your spine. I would say this isn't gonna hurt but there are some pieces of dead skin I need to cut away to keep the area free of bacteria." She looked carefully over the whole burned area to make notes of where she needed to debride. Drea looked around for scissors, but didn't see any. "May I?" She motioned to the drawer beside them on the workbench. James gave a non-committal grunt as Drea pulled the drawer open. She discovered a small field med kit under a gun and several ammunition clips.

She began cleaning and debriding close to the top of the burned area right under where she'd had to stop at the store. Drea was trying to be as careful and cause the least amount of extra pain possible, not just to spare James the pain but in case he had a bad reaction to someone inflicting pain on him. They had to take a couple of breaks just so they could both breathe. Drea used one of said breaks to find her way into the kitchen for a glass of water...and something to help calm her down.

When she got back out to where James was sitting, she had to stop and take in the sight. She was almost done with cleaning his frankly extensive injury and, while the tension in the air was lifting the closer she was to completion, there was still an undercurrent of unease making her jumpy.

"I won't hurt you, if that's what you're thinking." James's voice was barely above a whisper, pain lacing each word.

"Now how many serial killers have said that to their victims right before…" She mimicked a slicing motion across her throat before moving back to where she'd been working.

"I only hurt people who deserve it, and I can tell you don't fit that bill."

"Well, that depends on who you ask. But given the circumstances, I am doing my best impression of a nice person. Don't tell anybody…" Drea mock whispered and added a wink for good measure. James stifled a laugh. Hey it was an improvement over stiff silence.

They chit-chatted while Drea finished cleaning and treating the burn, nothing too serious or personal. She even checked to make sure he didn't have any broken bones under the bruises on his face.

"So… will I live? Or is my career as a male model over?" James teased as he walked towards what Drea had to guess was where he slept seeing as how it was the one part of the studio hidden by a divider.

"You'll live but that bruise is gonna be vicious before it goes away. Also, you need to have someone clean that burn at least once a day until it's healed." She flopped down onto the overstuffed couch and was so glad it was as comfy as it looked. "I left the rest of the iodine and antibiotic cream over on the desk or workbench or whatever it is along with bactine. Don't need to bandage it because burns heal better when the area can breathe. Also, there are some painkillers in there, even though you say you don't need them. Better to have and not take than to need and not have." She yawned and stretched, the fact that she'd been up since ridiculous o'clock catching up with her.

Drea must've dozed off because she felt a blanket carefully arranged around her. She stretched again, sat up, and looked around to find James on the far end of the couch watching her. She ducked her face under the corner of the blanket.

"Don't gotta be shy… you were snuffling in your sleep just now. Was kinda cute." James had changed into a loose fitting shirt and sweatpants. She grimaced at him. "Still cute."

" 'm not cute. I'm sorry I fell asleep on your couch, but this is thing is like illegally comfortable and I've been up since an equally illegal time this morning." She looked at the time on her phone. It was after midnight so too late for a pick me up. She groaned. "And I have to be back at work in less than twelve hours fuck my life." Quickly ordering an Uber and blinking around to find her bag, Drea fought her way out of James's stupidly comfy couch with a stretch.

"The least I can do is walk you out. Or maybe buy you coffee after work tomorrow, well, later today?"

Drea watched him for any sign of pity or anything but she had a feeling he was being genuine so she did something she hadn't done in over a year. "Yeah okay. Hanson's Diner tomorrow, well technically tonight, eight thirty. If you can't make it or something, text me." She grabbed a scrap of paper from her bag & a pen and scribbled her number down.

James stayed with her, standing close when she started shivering a bit when the wind picked up, until her Uber pulled up. He even opened the car door for her, which was something she hadn't had done for her since she left home. They smiled at each other as the car pulled away and, for the first time in longer than she could remember, her feeling of practically floating was not chemically produced.