Chapter Six

Alphonse lay as still as possible and tried to ignore the aches from his body. Everything hurt, his head ached constantly and the throbbing pain from his broken leg just would not let up. Every now and then, the nurses would come round to turn him in bed. It was agony. He knew they had to do it, laying still in one position for too long wasn't a good idea, but it hurt so much. He was beginning to dread the door being opened. If it wasn't for his girlfriend and his children…………..

And it wasn't just the pain. He could cope with the pain, especially with the help and care he was getting from his "family". It was the strange nameless fear running through his head. Every time he closed his eyes, the thing was flickering at the back of his consciousness, but he couldn't get a handle on it. Something was very wrong, but he just didn't know what it was and it was driving him crazy.

The door opened, he feigned sleep, perhaps they'll go away. A weight settled next to him and an arm gently eased his head against a muscular shoulder.

"'Phonse, I know y'faking it!"

Lucy! He didn't open his eyes, but leant into her. Lucy gently stroked his hair back from his forehead, carefully avoiding touching any of his cuts and bruises. His left hand came up and he tried to edge it under her top. Lucy grinned and kissed his forehead.

"Sweetheart, I think that might be a very bad idea!"

"Doll, I know, but a man can dream, can't he?" His eyes half opened, a certain twinkle in the blue depths. His knuckles made contact with her skin beneath the vest top, closing his eyes again with a satisfied sigh, he gently rubbed his hand in a circular motion on her smooth skin. Lucy snuggled a little closer, careful not to touch his leg, it worried her that he was in so much pain. But he was determined to tough it out.

The other thing that was worrying her was his extreme reaction when he woke up. Alphonse wasn't the panicky type and it wasn't like him to react that way. The gaps in his memory were due to the traumatic circumstances of the "accident". Accident, Lucy snorted to herself, it was no accident! He shifted ever so slightly and she looked down.

"Hon?"

A slightly grumpy expression crossed his face, "it's this damn itch!" his eyes opened, "it started about three hours ago, just above my left knee." For a moment, the fingers of his left hand brushed the top of the plaster covering his leg, "it's making me crazy."

Lucy hugged him a little tighter. "Sweetheart, I know." He burrowed his cheek into her shoulder and resumed the stroking motions with his hand, sliding his knuckles a little further across her body. Alphonse knew every inch of Lucy's body by touch alone, suddenly his hand stilled, he opened his eyes to look up into her face. The answering smile told him everything he needed to know. Despite his aches and the miserable pain in his leg, he leaned in to kiss Lucy passionately.

Charlie, Corky and Chrissy were gathered in Charlie's room. Ice had disappeared, probably sneaking time with Laura, Charlie seethed quietly to himself. But he had a more pressing problem. The former girlfriend, and the current girlfriend. The former girlfriend also being his boss and the current one an ex con like himself. The whole scenario was making Charlie's head spin. It was like parachuting into an uncharted minefield in the dark………….in a suit of armour……….and the mines were magnetic. Jeez, get a grip.

He took a big swig of his coffee, and nearly choked. Corky and Chrissy both leaped to bang him enthusiastically on the back, and then eyed each other warily. Like two lionesses in the pride. Okay, okay…..gotta stop watching the discovery channel.

Charlie got his breath back and tried to get control of the situation.

"We.." he stopped to clear his throat, calm his nerves and bring his voice down an octave or two. "We have to find a way to make it up to 'Phonse."

Corky looked at him strangely. "Charlie, make what up to Alphonse? We don't even know what made him react like that."

Chrissy had her own ideas. "Charlie, we have to solve the case first." She paced up and down. "Alphonse was so convinced that Laura was the killer. Okay, so where's the motive. Jealousy, revenge, what?"

She swung round to face the others. "Why kill Diane? Charlie, did you get anything else out of Berry?"

He shook his head. "No. Not much."

"Go back and get something then. Bring him in. We have to rattle him, he knows more than he's saying."

Charlie got to his feet, eager to escape before anything could break out. Corky joined him, pointedly slipping her hand into his. A look of near panic crossed his features, despite the thrill sensations at her open display of affection and he glanced at Chrissy, a mixture of pride and apologies in his gaze.

Chrissy smiled. Inside she ached, the uncivilised small part of her wanted to scratch Corky's eyes out, but the cool efficient FBI agent would have died of shame. So she smiled and took it, when every fibre of her being longed to throw herself into Charlie's arms.

Ice was a man torn in two. The cool organised planned side said this was a woman he could really have something with, the hot headed explosive side of himself said that he owed his friend and then some, and he didn't believe that the hit and run on Alphonse was an accident. The big Latin had found something and someone had tried to silence him forever. It was the forever part that sent chills up the cool leader's spine.

He was having a hard time believing that Laura could be anything other than what she appeared to be, the cool, charming, intelligent woman who had captured his heart. So there's another explanation. Ali said that it was the paintings, Ice was going along with that. He trusted the Scot's judgement, Ali was a shrewd and intuitive operator.

So Ice went through the files, it was painfully slow, and then he started wondering if Alphonse had made notes.

Two hours later and Chrissy and he were studying the clothes Alphonse had been wearing when he was hit. Ice watched the emotions on Chrissy's face, she'd taken this very badly. Now he realised that she was barely maintaining.

He pulled a chair out and sat down next to her. "Chrissy?"

Nervously her hands smoothed the folds of Alphonse's black top coat, for a second her eyes met Ice's concerned gaze and then slithered away, without answering she reached for the next item in the bag. It was 'Phonse's shirt, black silk, but there was a large stiff darker patch on the collar and the material felt clammy and unpleasant. The realisation that it was his blood, staining the shirt, brought everything home at once. Chrissy fell apart.

Ice reached out, gently pulling her into his arms, letting her lean into him and sob her heart out. Words tumbled out, so mixed up with sobs and tears that they were incoherent. Over the last couple of years, Ice had gotten used to women sobbing on his shirt front, so he held on and waited for the storm to pass.

Finally she settled. Pulling back slightly, she hung her head, embarrassed. Ice sighed mentally. The last five years, he thought by now that they all knew each other.

"Chrissy."

She glanced at him almost furtively. "Yes?"

"Don' play that game with me."

"What game?"

"The one you're trying now. I thought we all knew each other better than that."

She looked at him, an expression of pain on her face. "I thought we did. I thought that the last five years counted for something and that whatever happened we would still be a team. But now I don't know."

"We're still a team." Ice countered with a buoyant confidence he didn't really feel. "Alphonse will get over this and he'll be back."

She smoothed her hand over the bloodstained shirt again. "Ice, I don't think I can ask him to come back after something like this." Ice looked slightly exasperated, Alphonse was a player and very resilient. "I know….." she shook her head "I know you're thinking of the other times he's been shot at and poisoned, and beaten up. This is different."

She paused. Trying to put her feelings into words without breaking down again. "When I saw him clinging to Dylan like that, and he was so scared….."

Ice cut across. "Alphonse is a player, he knows the score. Whatever made him react like that, it ain't how he really feels." He shook his head, really annoyed now, "We knew when you took us on that we were expendable. Taking risks is what we do. And we're damn good at it, belie' that! So don' sell Alphonse short."

Chrissy looked down at her hands, acknowledging the truth of what Ice was saying. She pulled herself up a little straighter, weeping over Alphonse's injuries was less important than catching Diane's killer before he could finish what he started with 'Phonse. She peered closely at Ice, his return gaze was so impassive as to be unbelievable. Or she.

O'Connor pushed open the door to Alphonse's room, the big Latin was dozing quietly, alone. He'd sent his family packing, figuring that they were all exhausted.

O'Connor pulled a chair up to the bed, "Alphonse, you feel up to answering a few questions?"

A shade crossed the injured man's face, "Yeah." Hesitant, unsure.

It was so totally unlike Alphonse that O'Connor almost backed off then and there. "You sure?"

Alphonse swallowed hard, he dreaded this but he also dreaded the not knowing. "I'm ready. If I don't do this now, I don't know if I ever will."

"What's going on?" the quiet voice behind them made both men jump. Lucy stood there.

"I…" O'Connor rose to his feet. Alphonse looked up at his love, something passed between them, without another word Lucy kicked off her boots and slipped up onto the bed next to him.

O'Connor sat down again. "Ready?"

Lucy's fingers closed over Alphonse's hand. He nodded.

It was a lot tougher than O'Connor had expected. Royo frequently infuriated him, evasive, illusive, clever and charming, the Latin was also surprisingly brave, loyal and hard working. His naturally wild nature often led him into trouble. But this was different. Several times the Senior Agent found himself breaking off as Alphonse's distress increased.

Lucy held onto her lover's hand, and soothed him through it all.

O'Connor worked his way round to the accident. "Alphonse, you're walking down the alley, it's about five o'clock, it's raining. You hear a car and turn back, the car hits you….who do you see?"

Alphonse was shivering and distressed. "I don't remember."

O'Connor tried to end it, but Alphonse shook his head. "I need to do this." His breath was coming in gasps and snatches as he struggled to hold on, terror rising within him.

Lucy slid her arm round his shoulders. "'Phonse, you don't have to do this now."

"I do." He closed his eyes, leaning into her. "I just can't see it….."

"The car hits you and you're thrown on to the hood. Can you see the driver?" O'Connor felt sick, he hadn't expected to care this much, his respect for the Latin increased. Alphonse was obviously trying desperately to tough it out, but he was being overwhelmed by the pain and fear.

Suddenly the dam broke and Alphonse almost screamed the name.

Drained of colour, Lucy and O'Connor stared at each other.

After she'd managed to soothe Alphonse down a little and he'd drifted into a fitful doze, Lucy turned her attention back to O'Connor.

"We have to do something. I can't protect him like this. The hospital's wide open, anyone can get to him any time."

O'Connor looked straight at her. "What do you have in mind?" he said simply.

Lucy told him.