John had been right. Megan found that the couch was a very comfortable bed. The sheets were a high thread count and felt good against her arms and face. She thought she would have trouble going to sleep, but with-in seconds she was out.
Megan got up once; she saw it was noon by the clock. The heavy drapes let no light in. She used the bathroom and checked on Joan. As she walked into the room she saw that John was sitting straight up in the chair, his hands folded in his lap. His shoulders were relaxed and his head was turned slightly to the side and his chin was almost touching his chest.
Very quietly she stepped to the opposite side of the bed, slowed the drip on the IV bag and checked Joan's pulse. Everything looked good. She saw that the bottle of Scotch and the glass were sitting on the bedside table. Apparently Joan had awakened at least once and John had gotten the bottle of Scotch out of the cabinet. Megan glanced over her shoulder at John. She herself could not sit up and sleep, but she knew several doctors who could do it. She knew it was a learned habit. They had been in the military. She wondered if John had also been in the service.
John never flinched or moved a muscle but the moment Megan had walked in he had become alert. He sensed her moving quietly. He cracked his eyes, looking through his eyelashes he saw her check Joan, watched as she spied the Scotch bottle and glanced at him. He went back to sleep as she walked back toward bedroom door.
Megan walked back to the couch and lay back down. Today or actually tonight was her night off. She wished she had a change of clothes, but it wouldn't be the first time she had worn the same clothes for a day or two. Her head hit the pillow and she was asleep.
Coffee. She smelled coffee. Megan opened her eyes and blinked against the sunlight shining in. The rain was over. She had slept way too hard. Pushing herself into an upright position on the couch, she looked around the room. The drapes were open, and by the sun coming in it looked like late afternoon. There were still big white clouds in the sky, but no rain. Glancing at the clock she saw it was 5:00 pm. Getting to her feet she went to the guest bathroom to clean up. She took her hair out of what had been a bun, and brushed it out with one of the ten hairbrushes she found. She pulled it back into a pony tail. Because of the numerous toothbrushes, toothpastes and hairbrushes she opened the other drawers just to see what else was stored. There was an array of different brands of deodorants, make-up, and multiple brands of pain relievers: Aspirin, Tylenol, Advil, even low dose Aspirin, all untouched.
She finished in the bathroom and walked out.
John was folding the blanket from the couch, the sheets were already folded. She smiled at the picture before her. She could never keep the sheets or blankets off the floor when she was folding things, she was just too short, and she always had to lay them across something.
She realized he had changed shirts. "Good morning…or I guess afternoon. How's Joan?" She was headed to the bedroom.
"Coffee is ready and Joan is awake." John quickly finished folding the blanket and grabbed everything and followed Megan into the bedroom. "She was pretty agitated when she woke up so I had to give her her coat back."
Megan walked into the room and saw Joan awake and sitting propped up in bed by several pillows. Gathered in her arms was the blue coat from the tub. As Megan drew closer to the bed, Joan hugged the coat closer to her body, staring at Megan with distrust in her eyes.
Megan stopped at the foot of the bed and smiled at Joan. Her color was good, her eyes were tacking well. "Hi, Joan…I am Dr. Tillman…We met last night, do you remember me?" She watched her brown eyes as they took her in.
"No...I don't know you." She stared the woman standing at the foot of the bed, giving her a long look up and down. Joan had woken in a strange room with John sitting in a chair looking at her. And he had taken her possession from her. It was her coat…But he had given it back to her. He had convinced her she didn't have to put it on right now, and it hurt her shoulder to move too much. She hugged the coat closer to her.
John stepped to the side of the bed. "It's ok Joan, Dr. Tillman is a friend of mine and she came here to fix you up and make you better." He glanced at Megan and smiled. "She won't take any of your possessions." He walked past the bed and placed the sheets and blanket in a hopper of sorts at the edge of the built in closets and drawers where he had gotten the bedding from last night. He turned and walked back to the side of the bed. "Joan, the Doctor needs to look at your shoulder, ok?"
Joan looked from John to Megan and then back to John. "This is mine. I am going to keep it."
John nodded and stepped closer to the bed. "Yes, it is yours, and the Doctor isn't going to touch it…She just wants to look at your shoulder." John knew how funny she was about things that she thought belonged to her.
Megan saw that the IV bag was just about finished. "Joan…I am going to remove the IV from your arm first." She turned and walked out of the room, coming back pulling on latex gloves. She stepped up to the side of the bed and looked at Joan. "Ready?" She saw her nod. She slowly leaned forward and as gently as she could she removed the tape and pulled the needle out of the vein. She saw that John was already holding a cotton ball with new tape. She hadn't even seen him move. She handed John the needle and tubing and took the tape and cotton ball. Pressing it over the puncture, she looked up at Joan. "That's got to feel better." She studied her face for a moment. "Now let's take a look at that shoulder. Does it hurt?"
"A little…When I move." She took her right arm that had had the IV in it and gathered her coat to that side of her body, tucking it away from the Doctor's reach.
Megan smiled at her. She examined the area around the wound. It was cool to the touch, didn't look infected, which didn't surprise her. As an ER doctor, she had tended to a lot of homeless people and they seemed to have a good resistance for infections, considering their life style. But she would still give John a prescription for antibiotics today to get filled. "Well Joan…The wound looks good. You don't seem to have a temperature. Couple day's bed rest and you'll be as good as new."
Joan hugged her jacket closer to her body. "Then I can leave?"
"Let's see how you are feeling in a couple days. Are you hungry?" Stepping back Megan shifted her look over to John then back at Joan. "Joan, John made coffee would you like some?"
Joan looked up at John who was standing at the foot of the bed. "He used to bring me coffee in the morning, he'd find me no matter where I was."
"With cream and sugar…" John's voice was that soft raspy sound. There was a slight smile to his lips. "I'll get it for you now…" He turned and walked out of the room.
Megan turned and followed him out of the room. She walked into the kitchen area where John was putting a couple teaspoons of sugar in a coffee cup. "We need to see if we can get her to eat…and I'll write a prescription for antibiotics. You need to get it filled and get her started on it."
As he poured the coffee he looked over at her. "There are some pastries that I had delivered this morning, there in that basket." He gestured with his head. He set the coffee pot down and poured some cream into the cup. "Can you stay with her while I get the prescription filled? I can pick up food while I am out?"
It wasn't the way she had wanted to spend her evening off, but she knew Joan shouldn't be left alone. "Yes, I'll stay." She saw John smile.
John got a pastry and the coffee and gave them to Joan, then took the prescription Megan wrote and hurried out. He was worried about Finch. He had called and not gotten an answer.
POI
"Finch…." John called down the hallway. The cage was locked into the computer area. John grabbed his cell phone and punched the speed dial again for Finch.
It was answered on the fourth ring. "Yes Mr. Reese?"
"Where the hell are you Harold?" Reese's voice was flat.
"Is there a problem Mr. Reese?" Finch's voice was calm.
"I called you about an hour ago and you didn't answer …" He drew a breath and tried to calm down. It wasn't like him to get this frustrated when he was angry.
Finch heard the indrawn breath. He had heard the touch of fear under the anger in Reese's voice. "I am sorry John. I was… indisposed and could not answer the phone at the time. I am coming into the Library as we speak."
The phone disconnected. John stood staring at the cage. He put the cell phone back in his pocket and pulled out the keys to the lock to open the gate. The last time he had seen Finch, the man was still in a lot of pain. He had been worried when Finch didn't answer the phone that there was something wrong. He pushed the expand-gate back and turned and looked down the hallway to see Finch rounding the corner. He had taken the stairs. So he must have been feeling better.
John watched as Finch hobbled past him.
"How is Joan this morning?" Finch was a little breathless. He stopped at the desk and set his small brief case down; it contained his laptop and the ever present book. He looked back at Reese, waiting for an answer.
As Finch had passed him he had caught the faint aroma of Sweet Almond oil. Finch had had a massage. He smiled. Reese drew in a deep breath, and let it out as he walked toward the desk and Finch. "She is awake and doing well. Dr Tillman is sitting with her." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet, handing it Finch. "I need information on this guy. He was one of the henchmen after Joan." It was a wallet he had taken from one of the men at the underpass.
Finch opened the wallet and pulled out an ID card, Jesus Mendez, no driver's license, couple hundred in cash and a condom. Finch turned to the computer. "Let me see what I can find…"
He watched as John sauntered down the book lined aisle and vanished for several minutes. The whole time, Finch was setting up the search for Mendez. Finch hit the enter button as John came back, holstering his gun at the small of his back. In his left hand he carried a small duffle bag. John came to a halt at the edge of the computer desk and looked over the monitors at Finch. "I'll be at the safe house with Joan. I might need you to stay with her if I can't get Dr. Tillman to sit with her." Reese saw that the pain lines were gone from around Finch's mouth and eyes.
Finch looked up from the search, seeing the glint in Reese's eyes. "What are you going to do Mr. Reese?" Finch's voice carried a very cautious tone too it.
A sardonic smile touched John's lips, moving into his eyes. "I promised them." He pointed to the wallet, lying on the desk top. "That I would give back their money and drugs that Joan found…"
Concern touched Finch's eyes as he saw the expression on Reese's face. He watched as Reese took the wallet off the desk. He heard a clink of metal on metal from the duffle bag. The concerned look went to one of worry. "Mr. Reese, what are you planning?"
"I plan on giving them what they want Finch…Do you have an address yet?" He knew Finch had one and he stepped around to stand next to Finch who was sitting in his swivel chair.
"Yes, Mr. Reese…" He tapped a couple keys. "It's going to your phone right now."
Reese felt the buzz of a text message and smiled He reached down and touched the other man on the shoulder very gently. "Glad you are feeling better Finch." He turned and headed out of the room. Finch was better, Joan was safe and he had a project to do…life couldn't get much better….
