"Zia?" No response, but he could still hear her sobs. He tried again, "Zia?" Nope. "Zia, God damnit, I'm coming in."

"Man, be careful, she's not in full restraints anymore," Jacobs cautioned.

"She's not going to hurt me, and if she tries, I'm still pretty sure I can take her; and if I can't you'll all have to come save me." He didn't wait for a response but opened up the bathroom door.

He heard her sniffle, obviously trying to get her tears under control at hearing someone enter the bathroom. "Zia, it's me. Come on baby, don't cry. I know it's been a lot, but you're ok, everything's going to be ok."

"I'm not crying," she choked out, obviously making a lier of herself.

He grabbed a robe from the nearby hook. "Are you done in there?" he asked. "Can you come out? I have a robe for you."

"Um, yeah," she sniffed. "Just give me a second." She took a breath, trying to compose herself. "Can you hand me the robe?"

Phil passed it to her, averting his eyes. She stepped from the curtain a moment later, took one look at him, and sunk down to the floor, tears renewed. He followed her to the floor, pulled her into his chest, hooking her legs to the side to pull her close.

"Did I do something?"

"No!" she answered quickly. "You've been nothing but wonderful." The second after she said it, her brain kicked in, with well, with the exception of apparently being ok with our psychotic boss's wife giving you a hand job and that you haven't figured out a way to get me, us, out of all this.

She sniffed again, and then lifted her eyes up to his through her lashes.

Phil gazed down at her. He loved her in her glasses sure, but those moist chestnut brown eyes went straight to his soul. He placed a curled index finger under her chin and gently lifted her face. He moved slow, but when she showed no signs of resistance, he dropped his lips to cover hers.

She parted hers in return, allowing just the tip of his tongue access. He moved, for him, tortuously slow. What he really wanted to do was push her to the floor and take her for all that he was worth. She reached a hand up to cup the side of his temple and he moaned into the kiss. A moment later, she pulled back from him lips. He held in his whimper of disappointment.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he returned. "You ok?" he asked.

"Yeah," she answered, shaking her head softly yes. "Crying is just what lots of girls do to handle stress. I'm unfortunately no exception."

"I know, and its ok," he answered. She sniffed again. "Zia, its really going to be ok."

"I hope so," she stated.

"I know so." He lifted his chin to rest it gently on top of her head and inhaled. "You smell better," he added.

That got a chuckle out of her. "Yeah."

"Yeah."

She stretched her legs out a little and then tucked them back to his. She was starting to realize that being in contact with this man felt natural, comforting. She also realized she really wanted to touch those muscles that she had only gotten a glimpse at. She tentatively moved at hand to his side just above his hip. He remained watching her but didn't move. She slid the hand down and skirted it up under the edge of his t-shirt hem. Within seconds of her palm hitting his bare skin, any remaining shyness left the building. She literally pulled up the hem of his shirt and placed both hands on his lower abs. Phil let out a short laugh. She unabashedly ran her hands over him, rolling and palming the muscles below her fingers and palms. She traced the little trail of hair down from above to below his navel and then ran the back of her hand along the skin just above his waistband. Just before he questioned if she was going to do more, she moved up to his pecs, continuing her exploration there. Phil's enjoyment was shortly hampered by his realization that her touch had become more clinical than sexual. "Why do I feel like I'm being palpated?" he asked.

Zia had almost forgotten he was there. She looked sheepishly up at him. "Sorry, it's the vet in me. These are just amazing." She trailed one hand back down his midline as he chuckled again. Her hand landed on the edge of the robe she wore. It was gray, hooded, super soft and about the nicest thing, next to Phil, that she had ever had in contact with her skin. "So isn't this robe," she commented. "My God, I want to live in this thing. Is everything around here this nice?"

Phil reached out his fingertips to feel the material. "Probably cashmere blend," he suggested. "It looks good on you."

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"Grew up rich," he commented nonchalantly. "You pick up things." He paused. "I probably need to get you back out there. Do you want to wear this, or do you want to get dressed?"

"If it was just you, this, but I think I want some more coverage."

"Ok," he said.

They pulled each other up and stood to move toward the back cabinet, picking up Zia's discarded clothes for the hamper as they went. She made sure to grab her bra and remaining sock. She had apparently only managed to hit the basket with a single sock. He grabbed her dirty t-shirt. He opened the cabinet door for her and then stood back, allowing her to choose what she wanted. Zia's hands passed over several options of comfortable but high-quality clothing. She gestimated that the clothes in the small cabinet likely cost more than her entire closet back in her apartment. There appeared to even be a couple of folded light A-line dresses. She was definitely more of a pants girl but depending on how long they planned to keep her in shackles, dresses might actually be easier. She settled on a pair of grey velvet drawstring joggers and a knit dark blue tee. She found a pair of grey bikini underwear in a sport knit but no bra. As long as she was just lounging around, and she figured she was, no bra was fine with her. Its not like her tits were more than a B cup anyway.

Clothes in hand, she turned back towards the toilet. "Umm?" she started, nerves returning.

Phil had already noticed the pants stuck on the far end of the chain. Obviously, she was going to need some help, but he figured she wasn't ready to be naked in front of him. "Turn around and leave the robe on around your waist, pull the shirt on and then sit back on the toilet," he instructed. "Then I'll help you with the rest."

Ok, thanks," she responded and did as she was asked.

Once she was seated, Phil dropped to one knee in front of her, and got an idea. He shifted down to his other knee, which really wasn't too comfortable on the tile floor, a small sacrifice he figured, and lifted her free ankle up to his lips. He kissed the inside and proceeded to trail open mouth kisses the length of her leg.

Zia watched him in a haze of pleasure and a touch of disbelief. She was really glad she had bothered to shave Sunday morning. Her captors obviously weren't stupid enough to have given her a razor. She had a little fresh stubble but thankfully it wasn't bad. Phil didn't seem to care regardless. When he got to a particularly tantalizing spot near her knee, she dropped her head back, closed her eyes, and let out a breathy little moan. "God, Phil!"

He chuckled warmly. "I can keep going if you want?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, and tilting his head a bit to the side.

"Not sure I'm quite ready for that yet," she answered, thankful that she still had some functional brain cells. "But can you please take care of the other one? Its lonely," she all but whined.

"Sure," he smirked. He gave a little pout as his mouth skipped over her center and made his way back down the opposite leg. When he reached the shackle, he looked up at her. Zack had given him the key when he had left, leaving Jacobs in his stead. He fished it out of his back pocket. "Will you behave?" he asked.

"For you, yes," she confirmed. He unlocked the shackle and lifted it to the side, out of the way. He left her for a second to fish her pants and undies off the chain and moved to drop them into the hamper. When he turned back to her, she had stood long enough to pull on the panties and the joggers. She held out the robe to him after pulling it from around her waist for him to hang back up on the nearby hook. Then he picked up the full set of padded shackles that Zackquarius had left on the floor.

"I'm sorry about this," he added.

"I'd rather it was you putting them back on me than anyone else," she stated honestly.

He gave her a little smile as he relocked a limb at a time and checked all the chains. He gently ran his hands down her lower arms when he went for each wrist, her right arm especially was littered with bruises and there was a mark on her cheek. He had noticed them earlier, but in the bathroom lighting they were more noticeable. "Do these hurt much?" he asked with concern.

"Only with pressure or if I bump them," she answered truthfully. "They look worse."

"I think they're darkening a bit," he added. "Might be one of those, gets worse before it gets better things." He held out his hands to hers and helped her to stand. "Hungry?" he asked.

She shook her head yes. "You?"

"You have no idea."