Eventually Jasmine had relented and opted for the hotel room. It was obvious she hadn't wanted to and, on the short taxi ride over, Virgil was sure once or twice that she was going to make a break for it. He sighed internally. There's been no choice but to cover the wound as much as possible with clean towels then use the soiled bandage to hold it all together. He'd also been somewhat surprised to see that she'd been using the skinny jeans as a kind of compression bandage and had pulled them over the wound with a neat efficiency that suggested she'd done such things many times before.

That wasn't what bothered him though. The fear that he's seen earlier was still there. It was in the breathing she tried to control, the too quick dart of her eyes that took in street signs and landmarks and it was in the tremor of her hands if she took them off her lap.

Virgil didn't know what had happened to her in her past to make her so scared of someone wanting to help her, but he was determined to show her that not everyone was like that.

It was a challenge though. She had gone back to short, polite but ultimately bland answers.

"We're here" he said as the taxi pulled up outside the London Azure.

"Of course we are" Jasmine said sounding resigned as she took in the opulence of the hotel's main entrance. "Couldn't have gone for anywhere more subtle, no?"

"Unfortunately, my father is a big believer in money buying discretion" Virgil said as fished out his wallet. "My room is on the fifth floor, number 318" he held out the key card. She eyed it as though it might bite her.

"They'll never let me in there" she said. "I look like a drowned rat in someone else's clothes."

"I'll come up with you." It was a shame as he'd lose the cab but she did have a point. Neither of them looked their best right now but the hotel staff should recognise him.

As she'd thought, the doorman eyed her with suspicion but then opened the great glass door for him easily. Virgil walked them through reception to the elevators glancing at Jasmine only once they were inside. She looked bored but spared a glare for him that lit his temper a bit. He was trying to help her after all!

He opened the door to his room and Jasmine took two steps inside before stopping dead.

"This is your idea of a hotel room?" she said disbelieving.

In deference to their father, John had booked a suite for Virgil. In deference to Virgil, it was a small one with only a small living area, bedroom and bathroom.

"I didn't book it" he said stripping off his sodden jacket and hanging it up. "Thunderbird Five did. It's a bit much for my taste but, I have to keep up appearances, just in case." He took out a dry jacket and threw it on.

"The problems other people have" she said under her breath.

Virgil realised she hadn't moved since entering the room. In fact, she looked completely lost. He quickly consulted a London map on his comm.

"There's a pharmacy a few blocks from here. I'll be back in twenty minutes tops."

"Uh-huh." She still hadn't moved.

"Make yourself comfortable while I'm gone" he said then mentally kicked himself as she flinched. "Why don't you grab a shower?" he said inspiration striking. "It'll help you warm up. There's plenty of towels and shampoo etcetera in the bathroom and your clothes a chance to dry out a bit if you put them on the radiator whilst I'm gone."

"There's another room?"

She still hadn't moved.

"Hey" he said slowly moving himself into her eye line. "It's alright. You're alright. I just want to make sure that leg is looked after properly, that's all. No one is making you stay here; the door won't be locked you can go if you want. But" he paused hoping he was conveying the sincerity he felt. "I hope you stay. I hope you're here when I get back."

She blinked a few times and nodded taking a steady breath.

"Okay" she said. "Okay, um, the shower's through there?" the pointed at one of the doors. He nodded. "I'm gonna take you up on that." There was the briefest hint of a smile as she moved off. Virgil waited for the bathroom door to close before running a hand through his hair and quietly letting out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He'd just made it to the door when she stuck her head out of the bathroom.

"How does this work?" she asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, normally it's just 'on' and 'off' but this one has five dials. I don't even know where to start with that."

Oh, she means the shower. For a moment there Virgil had thought she meant something completely different.

He quickly showed her what everything did and got the shower running at a good temperature. He refrained from asking if she'd be okay with the leg wound. He wasn't sure what he could or should do either way.

The local pharmacy was well stocked and had a section labelled 'chemist' which contained everything he'd need to get her leg wound sorted plus give her sterile bandages for the next few days whilst it healed. As he was walking (not hurrying, definitely not) back to the hotel he reluctantly sent a message to John detailing what was going on. It occurred to him that he potentially had all the evidence he needed now. All he would need to do was get the used bandages under a microscope and they would know for sure either way. It felt like such a huge invasion of her privacy, though, and left Virgil feeling slightly dirty.

He tried to shake it off as he reached the hotel. If the doorman had noticed Virgil taking someone up to his room, then leaving without her, he didn't say anything. He offered nothing more than a polite, 'Good evening, sir.'

Perhaps father had a point about money buying discretion Virgil thought then resolved to never, ever, tell him that.

After a quick stop at the front desk, he paused outside his hotel room door and took a deep breath. Realistically, she wasn't going to be in there. Why would she be? She hadn't wanted to come in the first place. And why should her vanishing on him upset him so? He was on a mission, damn it. He needed to know whether or not she was what she claimed. International Rescue did. His brothers did. That was the entire reason he was here in the first place.

He put a stopper on his disappointment and opened the door.

He was not expecting to see her sitting on the arm chair towelling off her hair.

He was not expecting to see her sitting on the arm chair towelling off her hair wearing one of his shirts!

The red and black material swamped her, looking more like a dress than a casual shirt. She'd rolled the sleeves up past her elbows causing it to balloon round her arms and had buttoned it up all the way.

"That's my shirt" he said instead of hello.

"Sorry" she continued trying to get the worst of the water from her hair "but I didn't exactly pack and my stuff is nowhere near dry." She gestured to the radiator where her clothes were laid out. He mentally kicked himself for noticing her underwear wasn't there. He needed to get a grip here! "I promise, I looked in one draw and found this. I did not go through the rest of your stuff."

Right.

Rally.

"You did a good job keeping the bandage dry" he said finally closing the door behind him and setting down the bag he was carrying.

"Not my first rodeo" she said with a light smile.

"Well, it's not mine with this type of wound either" he said, pulling over the desk chair and coffee table. He set out various bandages and antiseptics before putting a clean towel on the floor and donning a pair of gloves. He then got her to rest her foot against the edge of the low table and began stripping away the bandage and makeshift dressing, taking more time to look for bruising or the tell-tale yellowing of infection.

He grimaced slightly. The problem with using low grade paper towelling was that it fell apart easily and so some of it had stuck to the wound. He'd need to clean it completely before he could go any further.

"This is going to smart a little" he warned.

"No, it won't" she said matter of factly.

He raised an eyebrow at that but made sure he had one hand holding her leg steady whilst he peeled away the stuck towelling with the other. She never so much as flinched. When he looked up, she was looking over her shoulder out the window. He broke open a clean vial of sterile solution and flushed the wound. Again nothing. Not that he wanted to cause her pain or anything but having an open wound flushed like that stung!

He very carefully probed the edges of the wound, making sure he could get away with just the butterfly stitches he'd bought.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't jump, but it was a close thing.

"Just checking that this will hold together without glue or actual stitches" he said bending the truth a little. He didn't need to investigate the cut as thoroughly as he had but there had been no reaction from her at all. It was mildly unsettling.

"Can you really not feel it?"

At his question he felt the muscles of her leg tense up in his hand.

"No" she said. "I really can't."

"That's not a good thing" he looked up at her.

"It's fine."

"Jasmine-"

"I can't fell pain" she said in a rush. "I never have been able to, as far as I know. Dr Leonard said I had Congenital Insensitivity to Pain. He did this test and got all excited about the results saying they proved it but… I don't know. It seems more likely to me that this was caused by whatever it was that meant I woke up on a children's ward with no memorises, or name, or family rather than me being the thirty-fifth ever recorded case of a weird genetic abnormality. Don't look at me like that."

Virgil gave himself a physical shake.

"Sorry. I've just never even heard of that before."

"Yeah, well. The internet knows everything, you can always look it up." She'd been aiming for levity and missed. She was also still as tense as a bowstring.

"So, you can't feel pain at all?" he asked applying the butterfly stitches and starting to rewrap the wound.

"Sometime I feel it for, like, a split second then it's gone." She huffed a dry laugh, "I can't tell you how many times I've woken up with burns or cuts or broken bones and had no idea how I got them." She shook her head. "It's better than it was though. When I was little it bled into other things. Some days I couldn't tell you if I was standing if I couldn't see my feet on the floor. That was-" she broke off but Virgil's mind completed the sentence for her; horrific.

He couldn't imagine what it would be like to see the world around you but not be able to feel it. How would you know if you were holding a mug or stepping on a stone? How would you know that anything around you was real at all?

He realised she was watching him very carefully as he packed away the last of the medical supplies.

"What are you expecting me to do?" he asked when her body language registered. Both feet planted on the floor, sitting on the edge of the chair turned to face the door, hands in her lap but shoulders taught. She was preparing for something. She was ready for him to do something and she was ready to run from it.

"What are you going to do?" she countered.

"I think I'm going to get out of these wet clothes and grab a shower" he said not really understanding.

"And then?"

"And then, I don't know. Like I said, I'm not keeping you here. You can even keep the shirt if you want." He was baffled beyond measure.

"You don't care about me not feeling pain?" she said clearly suspicious.

"No? I'm not sure how it affects me and I really don't know what you think I'm about to do." This was getting really awkward. Whatever she was expecting, he was a million miles from the same wavelength. After a few more tense moments she seemed to realise that.

"Sorry" she said, pushing back into the armchair and folding her legs beneath her. They disappeared under his shirt but it wasn't their loss he was feeling at the moment.

"What usually happens when you tell people?" he asked very carefully not moving.

"I learnt not to" she said. She sighed dragging a hand through her short hair. "People usually have one of two reactions. Medical types get all excited because I'm some rare find" she paused. "But you didn't. So, I was concerned about the other one." She hesitated again and Virgil watched perplexed as a wave of guilt passed over her features. "This is going to sound awful now, especially as you've been so nice."

Unsure of what to say, he just waited.

"Some men" she began haltingly, "like to be rough with a girl and, when they find out that not only can I take it but I mean, I can really take it, it, um, give them ideas. And often it's the really nice ones who are the worst for it."

"You…" he marshalled his thoughts. "You agreed to come here thinking that that was a possibility? Why?"

"You sort of backed me into a corner" she said. "You were pretty clear that it was here or a hospital and this is definitely the better option. Plus, you said you were a paramedic so I was kinda hoping for reaction one."

"That's not me" he said sickened. That this had happened to her before - more than once if he wasn't mistaken - was horrifying. But, despite that, she'd still chosen it over the hospital. What had happened to her there?

"I'm sorry" she said again looking nothing but remorseful. "I'll get changed whilst you're in the shower, I won't be here when you get out."

"Don't" he rushed forward a few steps before he managed to stop himself. "Don't go." He managed a small smile, going to friendly and disarming but completely unsure of what he actually managed. "It's just a misunderstanding. It's not like we really know each other that well yet. But, I promise, I'm not that guy. I ordered us some food, at least stay for that."

She chuckled.

"Sometimes I think you're trying to tempt me in with food like a stray cat."

"I absolutely am" he agreed nodding. "Works like a charm too."

She laughed, dispelling the heavy atmosphere.

"Are we good?" he asked pausing in the door to the bathroom.

"We're good" she nodded.

"Alright, if food gets here before I'm out tell him I'll leave a tip at reception."

"That's not a thing here" she said fondly.

It was fondly? Right?

Virgil excused himself into the bathroom and paused under the water to take stock. The amount this girl had been through in her short life was incredible and so very far removed from his own experiences. All things considered, Virgil thought he'd had a fairly normal childhood. True, he'd lost his mother far too young and his father had gone through a spell of absenteeism that he and his brothers still felt, but he'd gone to school and college. He'd joined clubs and school bands, been to parties, had girlfriends both serious and not. Virgil was starting to doubt that Jasmine had had any of that.

He dried off and dressed quickly and re-entered the living room just as there was a knock at the door. Waving Jasmine to stay seated he collected the order and left the man a sizable tip, just because.

"Smells good" she said as he started putting the take-out containers down. He could have ordered from the hotel and probably should have but the little Thai restaurant had caught his eye.

"I hope so" he said. "Do you like Thai food?"

"What's tie food?" she asked moving to help him clear the extra wrappings.

"It's food from Thailand" he said suddenly at a loss from how to explain it further.

"Where's that?"

"You don't know where Thailand is?" he asked surprised.

"I've never been out of London, remember?" she said "and I don't think my geography classes were all that great if I'm honest. Also, I didn't go to most of them."

"Oh, well in that case, let me show you." He hunted briefly for the remote for the tv and called up a map, zeroing in on the small country. The search engine helpfully provided scenic photographs and landmarks.

"Is that real?" she said quietly moving to stand in front of an image of crystal blue ocean and natural rocks. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah" Virgil agreed but he wasn't looking at the screen. He was looking at her and the wonderment that lit up her face. It was like watching a kid at their first fireworks display. Her eyes were wide as she took is everything the photo had to offer. "Here, let me show you something else."

Over the next few hours he called up images of all the most beautiful places he'd been fortunate enough to visit. He soon realised that, though she found the cities and the landmarks interesting, it was the natural world that kept Jasmine captivated and Virgil found that seeing it through her eyes was like seeing it for the first time. He knew he should ask about Johannesburg, that he should confirm that she really had never been there. But with every new country, ocean, iceberg and forest he became more and more sure that she was telling the truth. Eventually he called up a photograph of the city but it was clear she didn't recognise it.

"It's nearly midnight!" Jasmine said suddenly, breaking through his concentration. She moved over to her clothes, still on the radiator. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stay so long." She grimaced as she felt her jeans, they were clearly still wet.

"That's okay" he said. "It was nice to have some company. You don't have to go though."

"Pardon?" She hadn't misheard.

"You can stay. Here. I mean" he gestured to the window "It's still raining out and, we're nowhere near where you live. Assuming you live near that park." Oh god he was stumbling over his own words. He took a breath and tried again. "The suite is more than big enough for both of us, I'll stay on the couch."

"Are you always this smooth?" she said one eyebrow climbing.

"Uh. I'm usually better. At this, I mean. I just-"

"Go on. Go for a full sentence." He shot her an annoyed look which softened when he realised she was teasing rather than trying to rile him up. She was also trying very hard not to smile, the way it played across her features made her whole face light up.

That's not helping.

"Are you always this deadpan?"

"It's a British thing" she said perching on the arm of the chair she'd just vacated. "Doesn't seem to travel all that well though. The thing to remember is that, generally, I'm winding you up. You'll know if I'm not, there is quite a difference. Most Brits are like that."

Virgil nodded absently thinking of Lady Penelope and just how easily she could cut someone down with words. She, of course, chose not to employ a dry sense of humour but suddenly Virgil was wondering if she did and he and his brothers had never known?

"So, you'll stay?" he asked.

She eyed him carefully.

"You gonna buy me breakfast in the morning?"

"Absolutely."

She quirked a smile and nodded

Congenital Insensitivity to Pain is a real thing. The BBC did a great documentary on it which is probably still on iPlayer. If you're interested there is a great article on it here;

future/article/20170426-the-people-who-never-feel-any-pain