Chapter 21

The sun shone bright orange on the wall of the hospital room as the DC sun began to set. The evening news played on the television, but Myles barely acknowledged it was on. Three days had passed since the explosion at the nightclub, but despite their best efforts, they were no closer to finding the bomber.

While Anne took time off from work to stay at the hospital, Tara and the rest of the team were called back to work. Another explosion, less than twenty-four hours after the devastation at the nightclub, had everyone working practically around the clock.

A restaurant at the Old Post Office Pavilion just a block and a half from the Hoover Building had exploded shortly after closing. Fortunately, everyone had left and the adjacent shops were empty, so no one got hurt. However, the circumstances surrounding the bombing had everyone concerned.

Initial evidence, including how and where the bomb was placed, differed so much from previous explosions that agents wondered if they had a copycat. It wasn't until they were able to restore security tapes from near the scene that they began to suspect the most recent sites were chosen for a purpose.

Unbeknownst to the F.B.I, Hannah and Myles' covers at the nightclub had been compromised making them targets. The agents assumed that since he got so close to accomplishing his mission with the first bomb that the most recent bombing was his way of taunting them. He was arrogant enough to place a bomb almost on the F.B.I.'s front door and still they were at a loss.

Concerned the bomber might try to finish the job over fear Hannah or Myles may have seen something that made them targets, Jack arranged for protection for them at the hospital. Unfortunately, since it was only based on suspicion and no concrete evidence, only two agents were assigned to the detail, each taking twelve hour shifts.

Myles didn't like the idea of needing someone else, but he knew realistically it was for the best. He'd regained some movement and minimal feeling in his legs as the swelling in his back had gone down. However, it was going to take several weeks, if not months, of physical therapy to get back walking without assistance.

Until then, the doctors couldn't make any predictions about whether or not Myles would be able to return to the bureau. Though he'd only had one therapy session, he found it frustrating that he could barely stand without help.

The uncertainty of it all caused a cloud of depression and self-pity to close around the tenacious New Englander. While Anne had tried to tolerate his many outbursts, her patience had worn thin and she left a while ago, needing a break from it all.

Needing to get out of here himself, Myles struggled into a sitting position. In retaliation, what had been a dull ache in his back and legs quickly turned into a scream. He gritted his teeth and looked around for something to wear besides his pajamas. Where could they be? he wondered, searching for some kind of closet or drawer they could have been put into.

Standing upright, Myles groaned loudly as his muscles shook, threatening to throw him to the floor as they collapsed. When his head stopped spinning, he released the sheet letting it slide from him concentrating on the small cabinet he saw across the room.

However, the cabinet might as well have been a mile away. He took only three shaky, weary steps before the floor tilted wickedly. He caught the chair back with both hands to keep the floor from rushing up to kiss him in the face.

"Myles?"

He'd been concentrating so hard on the cabinet that Myles hadn't heard the door open. Now, Hannah stood there with confusion written all over her face as she tried to figure out what was going on.

"Are you okay, Myles?" Hannah asked when she didn't get a response, taking a tentative step into the room. "Myles, where are you?" she questioned a hint of panic in her voice as he continued to remain silent.

"I'm right here," Myles responded, sure that she could hear his raspy breathing from the excursion even though she couldn't actually see him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, realizing he was out of bed and moving toward him, her hands outstretched. "You shouldn't be out of bed," she admonished him sternly.

"I need my clothes," Myles groaned, his arms quivering as he tried to keep himself standing as he leaned against the chair.

"Are you crazy? Do you want to undo all of the doctor's hard work?" Hannah questioned as she felt her way around the chair. "You should have known better. Here. Use me as a crutch," she told him, prying his fingers loose from the back of the chair and transferring it to her shoulder.

Myles looked down at her. The top of her head only reach his chin. She didn't seem strong enough to bear his weight, but he knew from what she did in that basement that she was stronger than she appeared. Then, as now, she gave him little choice but to let her do the work and rely on her abilities.

"Come on," Hannah encouraged. "You shouldn't be standing yet. It will only take a few steps and we'll get back to the bed."

"You can't see the bed," Myles reminded her. "How do you know how many steps it will take?" he asked quietly.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to never question a woman," Hannah teased with a grin earning a smile in return that she didn't get to see.

Because his knees were buckling under the strain of his weight, he moved his other hand to her shoulder and stepped out from behind the chair. Feeling her delicate frame under him, Myles struggled to keep his concentration on the task ahead.

"That's it," Hannah smiled up at him. "One step. Now another. Easy!" she praised him.

"That's what you think," Myles muttered through his teeth.

Myles leaned heavily on her as he forced his feet to move one slow step at a time. To distract himself from the pain, he let his mind drift to the woman next to him. Her hair smelled of sunshine and her skin of lavender. He had assumed the floral scent he smelt earlier had been from the flowers in his room, but now he realized her previous presence accounted for the fragrance that wrapped around his consciousness each time he awoke.

Myles lowered his gaze as he watched her. She was frowning as she backed slowly toward the bed. She had braced her hand on his chest between his shoulders for counterbalance. He could feel his heart beating hard and fast under her palm.

Suddenly Myles became aware of how flimsy her robe as well as his own pajamas were. They were the kind of garments that could be easily slipped off or lifted aside. The thought did nothing to improve his heart rate.

Myles realized the most difficult part was going to be lowering him back onto the mattress. She moved close to him, slipping her palms under his elbows to offer additional support.

"Take your time," Hannah stated calmly, her unseeing eyes concentrating on a spot on this center of his chest. "Just unlock your knees, and let yourself drop onto the bed."

Myles shifted his hands from her shoulders to her upper arms for better leverage, trying to flex his knees. Pain knifed through him, forcing a sharp grunt from him.

"Wait a minute," Hannah moved in against him to take more of his weight onto herself. Her action brought their bodies together. She embraced him, careful of the bandages where they had to do the surgery on his back.

"Okay, now try," she directed a little breathless, her cheeks warm as she felt his body against hers. As he slipped inch by inch down her front, his lips grazed her brow, and then her cheek. She stepped in between his spread knees to keep his weight shifted toward her.

Concentrate, Myles told himself as his face was buried in her neck, drinking in her scent. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and his teeth suffered under the strain before his hips met the bed. By then, his face was buried in her bodice, and he closed his eyes against the sensual images that filled his head.

All he had to do was pull down and she'd be in his lap. Myles knew he had no right to be thinking such things. However, nothing, not even the pain in his back and legs, could stop the drag of desire deep down.

Myles couldn't look up at her, but he wondered if she felt it too. Every instinct told him that she didn't, not with someone like him. They'd been at each other's throats since the day they'd met, and a few moments of civility wasn't going to change that.

The contact between them lasted only an instant and then she was backing away from him. Hannah eased his legs onto the bed before searching out the sheet and tossing it over him with economical accuracy.

"Well, you seem to be getting around pretty well," Myles commented, slightly breathless from the exertion as he watched Hannah feel her way to the end of the bed, reaching out in search of the chair. Confused by how his heart pounded when she was so close, he was thankful when she moved away. At the same time, he wanted to pull her back again. What's wrong with me? Myles wondered, struggling to stop himself from reaching out, finally deciding it must be the medication he was forced to take for pain.

"Ah, yeah," Hannah muttered, pulling the chair forward as she sat down. "Savannah and Anne helped me at first, but over the last couple of days, I've made so many trips that I've actually gotten quite good at making it around the floor by myself," she commented with a shrug.

"Oh," Myles murmured, his brow lifting curiously. "You've been coming to see me?" he questioned, slightly surprised but more flattered than anything that she'd taken the time to come see him.

"Uh…yeah…it wasn't as if I had anything better to do," Hannah stammered quickly, twisting her hands nervously in her lap. "I may not see them, but it still feels as if the walls are closing in," she commented lightly.

"Ah," Myles nodded in agreement.

"And it's not like I've been sleeping the days away like some people," she teased, a tentative smile appearing below the white gauze covering her eyes.

"You try staying awake on the medication they drug you up with here," Myles scoffed lightheartedly.

"Hey, maybe I need to talk to the doctor about getting some of that to keep you quiet at work when we get back," Hannah grinned jokingly as she leaned forward in the chair.

"If we get back," Myles commented, immediately regretting his words when she suddenly sat back turning away. Despite the bulky bandages covering most of her face, he could see the disappointment and sadness etching her features and wished he could do something to take the pain away. "Why don't we get out of here?" he suggested, grabbing the call button next to the bed.

"Myles, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be up…" Hannah warned, apprehension heavy in her voice as she turned back to him, stopping as she felt him reach out to take her hand.

"I'll stay in the wheelchair and won't stay out long, if you go with me," Myles bribed, hoping she relent and go with him. "I promise," he swore, running his fingers across her palm. He could feel the electricity flowing between them as he watched Hannah struggle with the decisions. Several minutes passed as a thick physical tension filled the room.

"Okay," Hannah whispered quietly, gently pulling her hand from his. "But if you start getting tired, I'm bringing you back and putting you to bed," she pledged as she heard the door open behind her with the nurse responding to his call.

"Deal," Myles agreed, unable to stop himself from thinking how much he'd enjoy her putting him to bed again. While the nurse helped him into the wheelchair, he couldn't keep his eyes off the young brunette as he looked forward to spending time alone with her. How was she able to get under my skin so fast? he wondered, knowing he'd never felt this way before.