A/N: Sequel in Chapter 11: Sloppy Bandages.

Sydney placed a hand to her left side and gritted her teeth as she walked. Aldan, their rival relic hunter of the day, had caught her off guard as they were trekking through a rainforest in Malaysia, on their way back from finding an idol from the days of the Srivijayan empire. The fight had ended with Aldan setting off a trap that Nigel had identified on the way in, but not before he had managed to slice into her left side with his knife. She was pretty sure it wasn't too deep, but the pain was only getting worse.

"Syd, are you okay?" She glanced behind her to answer, only to find that Nigel had stopped walking. She stopped as well, dropped her hand, and turned to face him fully.

"I'm fine Nigel," she said, schooling her expression into one of indifference. "Why?" She had no intention of worrying him when they still had miles left of their hike back to civilization. It wouldn't make a difference; they still had to make it there in order for her to get the help she needed and they were all ready cutting it close in terms of daylight.

"I asked if you think we'll make it by sundown." Nigel eyed her warily, specifically where she had had her hand. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Just a cramp," she said dismissively, glad for her all-black relic hunting gear which was hiding the blood. "It'll be close to sunset by the time we make it back. We're going to have to move pretty quickly." Internally she winced. This was going to be one hell of a walk.

"I need a moment; do we have time a short break?" The rainforest was humid, making it harder to breathe. Nigel's hair was damp with sweat and his bangs were sticking to his forehead. She could feel her hair doing the same, sticking to her neck. As usual he was carrying the backpack with their supplies. She nodded. A few moments wouldn't hurt overall and if she was honest with herself, she could use the break to check out her wound.

Sydney slipped her satchel off as they sat close to each other on a fallen tree they found near the path they were taking. She made sure she was to Nigel's left so her wound was away from his gaze. Nigel took a flask from the backpack he was carrying and handed it to her – ever the English gentleman even as he was probably incredibly thirsty himself. She had to admit she was lucky Nigel was there to carry it. The two sat for a few moments, passing the flask between them with Sydney careful to use only her right hand6, the only sound that of the rainforest all around them.

"How do you think Karen is faring with the museum curator?"

"I'm sure she's fine." Sydney was unconcerned. Karen had proven herself very capable in the time they'd known her; convincing a curator to wait another two days for them to return would be no issue for her. "After all, she did say he was just her type," Sydney added. Nigel snorted. She looked towards the ground and smiled, pleased.

She felt a gentle pressure at her right temple and looked up at Nigel as he pushed a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. The two of them had been dating for three months, and it had been surprisingly easy. She hadn't wanted to ruin what they had if they didn't work out – he was too valuable to her to lose in any capacity. And she knew she could be hard to handle sometimes, driven and brash and competitive as she was. Nigel had simply argued that he knew exactly who she was, had seen her at her best and at her worst, and there wasn't anything that could surprise him about her.

Her eyes drifted shut as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. There was no urgency in the kiss, no expectation that it was going any further; the humidity of the rainforest was making them both sweaty and sticky and not in a way that made them want to move to the next stage. The hand that had fixed her hair moved to cup the back of her head and his fingers tangled in her hair while her right hand move to clutch the front of his shirt. Nigel's lips were soft as they moved against hers, and gently parted her lips with his own. The pain in her side faded as the smell of aftershave (faint), sweat, and musk that was distinctly Nigel filled her nose. A warmth that had nothing to do with the rainforest or the trek spread through her. Despite the heat and humidity and urgency of moving on, she didn't want the kiss to end. They had spent so much time telling everyone – coworkers, associates, friends, family, each other, themselves, even rivals – that they were just friends and coworkers that they had missed out on years of actually being together, of being able to kiss whenever they wanted.

They broke apart, their breathing heavier than before. Nigel brushed his nose against hers before he pulled away. She licked her lips.

"What was that for?" she asked as she opened her eyes. Nigel smirked.

"Just for being you."

Sydney felt a reluctant tug at the corners of her lips. "We should get going though."

"Just a moment. I need to, uh," he gestured over his shoulder with his thumb as he got up. Despite their sex life, which had been incredibly satisfying if Sydney did say so herself, there were still some things he wasn't comfortable doing in front of her.

Once Nigel had stepped into the surrounding trees to relieve himself, Sydney took the opportunity to look at the damage to her side. She took a deep breath and peeled the top away from her injury, wincing when the material stuck to the wound; the incision was three inches long, and smooth which she was pretty sure was a good thing. She pressed her lips together and wondered just how bad it was on the inside, whether the knife had pierced any internal organs or whether it was just superficial, and if she was bleeding internally. It was certainly painful. She closed her eyes and tried to just focus on her breathing. If they stopped to bandage the wound it would be time they could have spent getting back. She checked her watch – they had been sitting for just over 5 minutes.

She pulled her shirt back down as she heard Nigel return. She resolved not to worry her boyfriend until they were close enough to actually get help. There was no point in both of them being distracted. And knowing him he'd insist on stopping to wrap the wound which wouldn't stop the bleeding, or in making them take more breaks that they really couldn't afford to take.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," he replied, swinging the backpack onto his back. She slipped her satchel back over her head, patted the outside to make sure the idol was still there and started walking in the same direction they had been heading in earlier as Nigel followed just behind her.

As they walked, Sydney felt sweat pool at her temples, under her arms, and in the 'v' of her breasts. She wasn't sure how much was from the heat and the walking and how much was an effect of the wound. Her pulse was beating faster than normal for this type of activity; she was breathing harder than normal too. And it wasn't as though she was new to walking through humid climates. Sydney redoubled her efforts of putting one foot in front of the other and making it out of the rainforest.

A few miles later Sydney shivered as cold began to creep up on her. It was getting harder to focus, and she could feel herself losing her balance, more noticeable because she was always so surefooted. She was barely keeping her eyes open now. If she was thinking properly, the amount of walking she had done meant that the incision wasn't deep, but the blood loss was now definitely catching up to her. And they had several more miles to go. She put her hand to her side and glanced down, turning her hand so she could see the red coating her palm and fingers. She vaguely heard Nigel's voice calling her name behind her. She stumbled either over a tree root or over nothing, it was hard for her to say.

There was a pressure on her waist that made her gasp with pain and everything spun around her – she reached out to steady herself. It took her seconds to realize that Nigel had turned her around and was the only reason she was still standing as she leaned against him. She felt his fingers on her wrist and sluggishly turned her head to see red. She turned her head again to face him and could see his lips were moving, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. Sydney felt her body give out on her and then nothing.

When she woke it was to a white ceiling and the incessant beeping of several monitors, with the steady hum of people in the background. Sydney winced against the light that seemed to be aiming straight at her eyes; she hated fluorescents. Whatever she was laying on was scratchy. She guessed she was in a hospital, but how exactly, she wasn't sure. Trying to gather her thoughts was like trying to grab fog. She did remember her wound and tried to move her left hand to feel it but her hand didn't move. She looked down at her hand and frowned as it took her a moment to realize that there was a hand holding hers.

Blinking, she turned her head to look around the room and found Nigel slumped in a chair beside her, asleep. She used the moment of quiet to take him in. His hair was disheveled, and he was sporting the scruff of nearly two days without shaving. There were dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing when they found the idol, only there was blood on the front of his shirt. She frowned, wondering if he had been injured as well.

"Nigel?" She was surprised to find that her voice was no louder than a whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Nigel." Still too quiet. She licked her dry lips and tugged on his hand. "Nigel."

Nigel woke with a start, and she felt his hand tighten briefly around hers. "You're awake!" Nigel leaned forwards in his chair, his brows drawn together in worry. "How are you feeling, do you need me to get the doctor?"

Sydney shook her head. "What- what happened?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"Here," Nigel reached to an area on her right, just out of view and when he brought his hand back, she saw that he held a cup of water. She took it with her right hand since her left was still occupied by Nigel's. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was until she tasted the coolness of the water and began to drink it greedily. "Slow down Syd." She swallowed the last of the water and Nigel took the cup back, placing it where she guessed there was a side table.

"What happened?" she asked again, this time her voice stronger. "Why is there blood on your shirt? Are you injured?"

The look on Nigel's face went from worried to almost angry. She was used to seeing a varied range of expressions from her boyfriend as they had been together so often over the years, but never had he looked at her like he was truly angry at her.

He stood up, relinquishing his hold on her hand and started to pace, gesturing wildly as he talked. "Me?" his voice rose at the end. "Sydney, you stumbled, I don't know if I've ever seen you stumble when you weren't faking it, and then you wouldn't answer me." As he turned, Sydney saw a streak of red on his neck, and suddenly remembered holding on to him to stay upright. "And there was blood, Sydney," he ran his hands through his hair, "so much of it. I didn't think you were going to make it."

"So you're okay," she tried to confirm, still staring at the blood on his shirt. Nigel stared back at her. Sydney suddenly had the thought that they were almost having two different conversations. He seemed to catch on faster as he looked down at himself to see what she was looking at.

"Syd," his voice quieter, "that's your blood."

Her brows furrowed. "What?"

Nigel fidgeted a little and settled on resting one hand on the back of the chair he had been sitting on and looking at the other as though it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. He was loud about his intellectual prowess, but she recognized the bashfulness that came with acknowledgements of how physically strong he had become, as though he couldn't quite believe it himself. "I – erm, well I – I carried you here." He looked up at her. "I had to. You weren't conscious Sydney, and the sun was going down, and we still had three miles left. You needed help and I couldn't leave you there," Nigel fidgeted again. "I thought you were going to die."

"I'm fine Nigel," Sydney said as she reached a hand towards him. No wonder he looked exhausted. He had carried her through the rest of the rainforest, with the backpack on his back, and he must've carried her satchel as well, both bags were sitting just within her view at the side of the room. She could see the war on his face, clear as day: on one hand he wanted her to know he was mad but on the other he was visibly tempted to take her proffered hand. She could hear her heart thudding in her chest and was suddenly terrified he was going to reject her. In a sudden move, he sat not in the chair but on the bed and took up her left hand in both of his.

"You scared me Syd," he said as he pressed his lips to the back of her hand. He continued to hold her hand as he sat on the edge of the bed, his thumb stroking where his lips had just touched. "I really don't know if I've ever been so terrified."

"Nigel I –" Sydney started, ready to remind him of all the times they'd almost died, or even just the times he'd had a gun to his own head.

"No," Nigel said sharply, and he shook his head as he read her mind. "No. When we're in danger we're in danger together. You just collapsed after saying everything was fine." Sydney felt her breath catch in her throat. She wasn't sure anyone had ever looked at her as seriously as he was looking at her in that moment. "I need you to tell me when you're not okay. I – I – I'm with you Syd. For whatever you need. Next time you're injured, tell me instead of hiding it."

Sydney blinked as she felt a slight burning sensation behind her eyes. Warmth blossomed in her chest, and she nodded in agreement. "Okay."

"Promise?" Nigel leaned forwards until his forehead was resting against hers.

"Promise."