TITLE: A Shot in the Dark

AUTHOR: Dreamscape (Shelley Jolly)

EMAIL: sdjollybellsouth.net

ARCHIVE: Fanfiction.net

SUMMARY: Donovan finds support from an unexpected friend after being left for dead.

RATING: R – some sexual content

TYPE: Romance

SPOILERS: none that I know of...

DISCLAIMER: UC:Undercover is the property of NBC (Bastards!) and Shane Salerno, etc. No Infringements intended.

Chapter 3

She was as good as her word, and returned in a short time with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. She handed him two tablets and the glass of water, then reached a hand behind his neck to support him while he drained the glass. When he was through, she took the glass with her free hand and lowered his head slowly to the pillow and slid her hand from beneath his head.

His dark eyes locked with hers, his expression hidden to her. "Rest now, Mr. Donovan." And to insure that he did, she switched off the lamp beside the bed. With the bedroom door open, the hallway gave sufficient light enough for her to take care of him during the rest of the night.

She took the cloth from the basin, wringing out the excess water. His eyes were still open as she bathed the sweat from his face and brow, watching her intently, his brow furrowed in a frown. She knew he had been worried that she had called the authorities, and she felt the need to reassure him.

She smoothed his brow gently with her thumb as she told him, "I don't know why you are here, or who did this to you, but I promise you that you are safe." She didn't know why she felt the need to protect and reassure him, but she did. "It was against my better judgment, but I have told no one of your presence here. I just hope I haven't hurt you more by not getting you proper treatment."

He reached up and took her hand from his brow and held it to his chest. "You saved my life, whether you know it or not," he assured her, his accent thick as sleep claimed him.

She sat there for a long moment, her hand still clasped in his, held to his chest. She could feel his heart beat, strong and even. For that she was glad. If only his fever would break, she would feel more at ease. Finding she couldn't help herself, she bent and placed a kiss on his forehead, and then she removed her hand from his and resumed her place in the rocking chair.

He dreamt then, in his feverish state. He relived the night he found himself in Caitlin's care. How they got the drop on him, he'd never know. He just remembered getting hit from behind. The next thing he remembered was being hauled out of the black sedan and being tossed in a heap in the sand. He was ordered to stand, and that he did. He knew the ache in his head was the least of his worries. He had several guns pointed at him, very much intent on his demise.

He stared at those men, the three of them were well known to him. So, he had been right about his suspicions all along. There were dirty cops in the Bangor police department. He backed away, until he came to the edge of the cliff they were standing on. He looked behind him, down into the darkness. He hoped it wasn't too far of a drop; it was his only hope. And what if there were more rocks below, instead of sand? Well, then he would surely die.

Knowing he had no choice, and these men were not going to give him a chance to live, he had made his decisions. Slowly he leaned backwards until he felt he was falling. His captors were taken by surprise, but that didn't stop them from shooting at him. Two of their bullets hit their target; thankfully they did not wound him mortally.

He landed on his back with a loud thud, knocking the breath out of him. Sand, and lots of it. How lucky had he been to land in the pebble riddled sand instead of the large rocks just a few feet away. He looked upward, seeing the drop hadn't been that far after all. He could see the three men looking over the edge. He knew they couldn't see him, because he hadn't been able to see to the bottom when he stood where they were.

He waited until he heard the car pull away before he moved. The pain in his shoulder and leg where the bullets had caught him was dreadful, but nothing he couldn't deal with. His training had taught him a lot of discipline in handling all aspects of pain.

He had walked along the beach for a couple of miles before his luck ran out. He came to a wall of rocks that formed a jetty well past the waters edge. He painstakingly climbed the rocks, taking great care in traversing the slippery formations.

He had been sure he was close to death, but he managed to reach the other side. He sat there staring ahead in the darkness, shaking his head. Another jetty, just as high and long as the one he had climbed. He first looked to the sea, no he couldn't swim around the jetty, he didn't have the strength. Then he saw the house to his left. There was a large gate blocking his way to the front of the house. Perhaps someone inside would help....

"Caitlin," he moaned in his sleep.

She was startled out of her light sleep, and jumped from the chair. She reached his side swiftly, lowering herself to her knees. He was covered in sweat. Placing a hand on his forehead she was relieved to feel it was cool to the touch. Thank God, his fever had finally broken.

She had replaced the water in the basin with fresh water, and now wiped the sweat from his face, neck and chest. The sheets and blankets around him were soaked with perspiration. When she looked back at his face, he was watching her thoughtfully.

"Your fever broke," she told him. "You called to me in your sleep." She didn't know why she told him that he did, but she had the overwhelming urge to know why he did.

He nodded. "I was reliving the night you found me."

"Oh." Why was she so disappointed? She shook herself mentally. Why did she even care? She didn't even know him. "Well, if you're up to it, we need to get you out of this bed and out of these wet sheets."

He nodded and slowly sat upright and she pulled the wet blankets from his legs. She helped him to stand and led him from the room. She frowned at him when he stopped outside the door and would move no farther.

"Look, I can't carry you," Caitlin said in exasperation. Her annoyance left as soon as she saw the amused look in his eye. She realized then why he stopped, he needed to use the bathroom. "I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me." She watched as his expression softened.

"No problem." He let her help him into the bathroom and then watched her leave him to attend to his own needs.

He opened the door to find her waiting patiently for him. He was getting quite tired of depending on someone, and was irritated that just relieving himself took all his energy. He sighed when she came to him and slid an arm around his waist. He had to admit, if he had to depend on anyone, he couldn't ask for a prettier nurse.

"What's so funny?" Caitlin asked when she saw him smile. And what a handsome smile, it lit his entire face, even those dark eyes.

He just shook his head and said nothing. She led him to a room at the end of the hall. It was the master bedroom. He noticed a large bathroom to the right, there was a sitting area directly in front of him, and a large canopied bed to the left. Donovan looked at Caitlin with a question in his eyes.

"It's the only other bedroom in the house that is made up," she shrugged. She sat him in an overstuffed chair in the sitting area and placed an afghan over him. Then she moved to the bed to turn down the covers and came back to him to help him to the bed.

Instead, he motioned for her to sit in the chair opposite him, but she chose to sit on the small ottoman in front of the chair he sat, for no reason other than she enjoyed being close to him.

"Is there something you need?" She asked him, concern shown brightly in her emerald eyes.

"No, I just don't feel like lying down," he explained.

She nodded. "Are you hungry? Would you like breakfast?"

He smiled, "I could eat." He was amazed with her more every moment he spent with her. She didn't pry, didn't demand, and only gave of herself. That was rare in this world. It was something he didn't think he would ever see in anyone other than his family. He was a complete stranger to her, yet she took him in and healed him. And he knew he would never be able to repay her kindness.

"Fine, but first, if you feel up to it, we could bathe you," she suggested timidly.

"We?" he almost laughed, but thought better of it. He knew he would likely pass out if he attempted any task on his own at the moment. Not to mention that he would hurt her feelings. "Yes, we, that's fine."

"We have to be careful, you can't immerse your leg or shoulder. After we get you cleaned up, I'll re-bandage you." She left him to run a bath for him in the oversized garden tub of the master bath. It would do nicely, since there was a ledge he could sit on without actually getting in the water.

He watched her turn the water on, gauging its temperature with her hand. When she thought it was right, she put the stop in place to allow the tub to fill. She ventured further in the spacious bathroom, opening a large walk-in closet. She emerged with clothing and placed them on a chair in front of the vanity.

"Well, this is going to be interesting," he thought to himself as she helped him from the chair and led him to the bathtub.

To be continued...