Lucas managed to drive, sticking to lower streets and less traffic areas, back home. No need to get pulled over by a cop. The cuts on his face had finally stopped bleeding for the most part, but they hurt like hell as did a few other places where he was sure bruises were blossoming. He pulled into his apartment building; it was a classy, modern high rise. He lived on the twentieth floor, and the elevator ride was long, but at least no one else was on there with him. He managed to feel his way down the hall, making a right and then a left, moving for his door and the safe security of home. His eye was throbbing, as was his head. Fishing his keys from his pockets he jammed the key into the lock and fumbled, swearing loudly when it didn't open. Maybe he had the wrong key, and so he tried three more before kicking the door angrily.
Arleen had heard someone fiddling with her door, but had waited a few moments. At the kick she jolted a little and hoped it was someone who was happy when drunk, as she figured that it was just some drunk who lived on this floor but got the wrong door. She opened the door finally and then sucked in a breath when she saw Lucas. "Oh my god. Mr. Donovan, what happened?" she asked, lightly touching his arm, her touch cautious as she tried to examine his face.
He jumped when his door… no, wait, not his door opened. He blinked, he knew this voice, but briefly, and then he made the connection, "Ms. Makem, sorry… thought I was trying to open my door." He grumbled his words, annoyed that he had disturbed his lovely neighbor, "Nothing. Just a rough day." He joked slightly, not wanting to tell her oh, I just had a slug fest with my now ex boss, no big deal.
"You poor thing. Come here, let me do what I can." She said, gently pulling him into the apartment and settling him on her cozy and comfortable leather couch. She got him a small ice pack and carefully set it on his eye while she dabbed at the cuts with peroxide. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" she asked quietly, lifting the ice pack to look at the bruising around his eye again, her other hand lightly cupping his jaw, tilting his head so she could see what she was doing.
He blinked as he felt her bring him into her apartment and onto her sofa, a leather sofa at that. He wondered if he looked as bewildered as he felt suddenly, for once in his life Lucas Donovan felt awkward, "Not sure, I feel bruised here and there, but really you don't need to do this." He could take care of himself, he had done so for the majority of his life, but this woman, this almost complete stranger was helping her… not even Stane had helped him exactly, Stane just made sure he knew what to do like a good little lackey. This was odd, strange as well as new and different.
She frowned at him. "You sure you're alright, Mr. Donovan?" she asked, pulling the ice pack off his face, sitting next to him but giving him space. "I worry. No one ever stops by your place. Don't want you trying to take care of yourself when you're hurt like this."
He tried to give her one of his charming and assuring looks, but failed due to the state of his eye. He sighed and settled back, allowing the woman to play nurse, "I'm a solitary being." He glanced at her, "And I've noticed the same about you." He commented, "You spend a lot of time alone, not sure if that is safe or wise in your line of work."
"I have a cat, somewhere in here." She promised, smiling to him. "But most of my clients understand I did my best for them and most hold nothing against me. Which is good. I just don't go into situations where people generally make friends. Work is just work and the time I'm not at work I am working on cases, which is for work." she took his right hand and carefully set the ice pack on his slightly bruised knuckles.
"All work and no play?" He chuckled a little and then winced slightly, "I used to know how that was." He muttered and hissed slightly at the ice on his knuckles, "So why do you do what you do? Why help the bad guys?" He wanted his own apartment badly, but for the moment he was content and it had been a long time since the hands of a woman had touched him voluntarily.
"That's me in a nutshell." She whispered. She finished icing his hand and seemed to notice some tenseness on his part. She stood, keeping her hold on his hand. "Let's get you home, Mr. Donovan." she said, her voice like it always was, quiet and relaxed and gentle. There was no commanding nature to it, or sharpness. She was a very quiet person in every way. She never had her TV loud enough to hear, and she always made sure to talk quietly when on the phone with people. Her reasoning for her line of work was too personal, as far as she was concerned, for the first time they had really spoke to each other, so she just carefully ignored it.
He stood slowly, offering a hint of a smile as he did so to hide the pain his almost every move caused him. He had never had anyone be nice to him like this, not even his own mother who he barely remembered, and definitely not his father whom his Mother had taken delight in reminding him every day that he looked like the son of a bitch. He looked at this woman with his good eye and said something he had only said to a very small number of people, "Thank you." It was hard for him to say it, but he managed as he moved towards her door slowly, "I'd like to repay your kindness if I may. Do you enjoy Italian?"
She flushed faintly. "I do." she said, frowning at his stiffness and quickly taking a pack of tylenol from her first aid kit. She helped him to his apartment, helping him get his key into the lock as she knew that had been his trouble with her door.
He nodded, "Excellent." He slowly moved into his apartment, turning and taking his keys from her slowly, "As soon as I'm feeling more like my old self again I'll actually mean to knock on your door this time." He wanted a mirror; he wanted to see if he looked as awful as he felt.
She handed him the pain pills. "Take these with some water, Mr. Donovan. It'll help. If you need anything don't hesitate." she said, giving him a kind smile, her bright hazel eyes locking with his. They said their goodbyes and she allowed him to rest.