Jane was right behind Kurt as they chased the fleeing suspect, but with an unmatched urgency Jane caught up to the woman first, who managed to get in one good swipe with her knife before Kurt knocked it out of her hand reach. The suspect put up a fight with the two then, actually landing a punch right to Jane's left eye and knocking Kurt across the room before Jane finally pinned her to the ground and paralyzed her movements to end the fight there.

Some time later, after the suspect was handcuffed then taken to custody, Jane could still feel the sting of that woman's fierce punch to her eye, and the burning sensation there, and knew she was probably already developing what would be a quite impressive black eye. Goddamnit.

In the ambulance vehicle Kurt went, and found Jane sitting with an ice bag being pressed against the left side of her face. "Sorry for that," he murmured as he tucked the mess of her hair behind her ears.

She looked up at him with her non-swollen eye and put up a small, forced smile. "I'm okay. It barely hurts, I promise."

The tips of his fingers had trailed down her neck by now, and he said, "That's because of the 600 milligram tablet of Brufen they had you swallow."

"Well, then that's good!" She drew a deep breath and lifted her free hand atop his own. "Our date still stands, huh? We're still going to have that dinner at the French restaurant, right?"

"No. Another time," he sighed, and his heart felt as though being physically stung at saying that.

"Kurt…but we made a reservation this time!"

His blue eyes bore into hers, full of pity and fear and exhaustion, and love—always love. "Doesn't matter. Your injury is no joke. We're going home so you can rest."

"I said I'm okay! And I'm starving."

"I'll make you something to eat at home," he promised, his thumb brushing against the tender skin of her neck.

She put the ice bag aside, lowered her head, and blinked several times to lose the burning sensation and get the tears under control. After a moment she surfaced, a frown clung to her face. "You know, we've been saying 'another time' for the past two weeks."

"I know, Janie… We've been unfortunate. I'm sorry. But the headache will be tenfold worse if you don't rest. So, just let me help you out of here and take us home."

She said nothing when he secured a protective arm around her back and walked her the paces to their car then helped her get comfortable in the passenger seat. The first half of the drive home went quiet, save for the hisses Jane occasionally let out, at which Kurt's heart sank. In the second half, she was feeling completely numb, all over her body, and might as well have fallen unconscious if the bag of ice she'd been holding to her swollen eye hadn't agitated her when it started leaking drops of iced water all over her neck, chest, and jeans.

"I think that…I need another ice bag. This one is leaking," she said between gritted teeth, and Kurt immediately nodded, offered some reassurance by patting her on the upper thigh. "Alright. Alright. I'll get you that. Right now. Hold on."

He made a stop at the nearest drugstore, though before he hopped out of the car, he asked Jane, "Need anything else besides that?"

"No. No. Just that."

Only when she heard the door being slammed by Kurt did she let out a loud groan she'd be holding back, and threw the broken ice bag to the dashboard. The pain was getting worse by every passing second; it was the kind of pain that time seemed to stop. She steeled herself for a minute, two, three, and then thought, how am I supposed to keep up with this pain for the rest of this damn day? God. If she was to survive it, she'd need numerous ice bags to cover her whole face with them, and a package or two of Brufen—which she should've told Kurt to bring with him, but… She released another loud groan, and the urgency she felt afterward made her get out of the car and into the store Kurt was at to get everything she needed herself.

There, she stumbled across Kurt about to grip what seemed like a package of painkillers? And were these two or three bags of ice in his other hand? She couldn't quite tell, and so she went straight to him.

"Worraya doin' here? You okay, Jane?" he blurted, leaving whatever he was about to grip and gripping her arm instead. Oh, love. There were also bruises already forming right below the purple skin of her swollen eye.

"Did you need anything else?"

"Yeah. Just a… Some more Brufen, please, and lots of ice bags. Lots of them." She fumbled in her words, and Kurt regripped her even harder by the arm his knuckles turned white only so he could keep her still—because by now she was shaking, her eyes fluttering.

"K. K. I've got that for you. Now go back to the car. Can you go there by yourself?"

She nodded, and as he loosened his grip around her arm, Kurt noticed that there was a woman glaring at him so intensely with an apoplectic, contorted face. Though once he glared back, she pretended she was busy and walked the same way Jane had just passed by: to the gate.

Weller had never been this fast as he gripped the nearest two packages of Brufen, dealt with the cashier in three seconds, and jogged to the gate, where he saw the same damn woman speaking to Jane face-to-face.

"Ma'am, stay away from my wife!" Kurt shouted, willing himself for an ambush or something even worse at the scene before him, as common and mundane as it was. He stopped between Jane and the woman, who jerked back.

"What the hell do you want?" he said in a voice that spoke volumes about how heated he was.

"Kurt…," Jane tried to say.

"You're an asshole. A piece of garbage. I hope you die right here and now," the woman snapped at Kurt, and then pointed an index finger at Jane, who was shaken and in a total agony and could barely hold herself together, and said, "And you…you don't deserve this! I've been in your place once. I've been just like you. But thank God I got away, and you can, too." The woman was seconds away from bursting into tears. But then she hastened on her way without a glimpse back at them then was no longer seen.

"What the hell was that?" Jane asked with a puzzled look. He looked down at her and raised his brows in exhaustion. "Let's just get in the car."

Once back in the car and out of the parking lot, Jane blurted, "What just happened back there, Kurt?"

His eyes on the road, Kurt mumbled, "Well, that woman thought that I'm a jackass and abusive to you."

"What?" Her eyes widened. "That didn't even cross my mind!"

"Well…"

She took a new ice bag and pressed it against her swollen eye, then stared at Kurt with her fine eye for a full minute as he drove. "You're upset now?"

"I'm."

"Kurt, since when do we care what people think of us?"

"Since they start seeing me as that type of man. I never want to be seen as that type of man."

"We know the truth, Kurt. And so does everyone we care about. You are not that type of man. Are you hearing me?"

He only nodded.

"Everyone who knows you knows what kind of man you really are. And that's what matters. You're a good man, Kurt. A great husband. An incredible father."

"Thanks, love."

"I'm just saying facts here!" She tried a smile when she saw his faint smile. "And that woman, she was absurd."

"I feel deeply sorry for her. She must've really been traumatized by an abuser before. Hence why she seemed impulsive and hateful of me when she saw your injury, and couldn't interpret our case other than the way she did."

"If that's the case, then I'm deeply sorry for her too. And I'm sure, if she'd known what happened behind this black eye, how we literally saved Manhattan from blowing up today, and had to postpone our 'special date' because of all that, she'd would've been so, so sorry for us, too…"

Kurt sniggered then, and Jane fought between laughing and groaning.

"It's not like I wanted to postpone our special date earlier today, you know. We're still going. But not until you get better."

"Yeah, I know. And, I'll admit, my headache is getting the best of me at this point…"

"It'll get better, Janie."

"It better get better…"