"You gave us a scare, that's what happened," Catherine said quietly as she reached out and took his hand. She didn't want to tell him about the mix-up and how everyone thought he was dead for awhile. She wished she could forget that it had ever happened herself. "Good thing you're head's so hard. They're going to keep an eye on you for a couple of days just to be on the safe side." She smiled slightly when he grimaced at that news. "Want me to get you anything? You ended up missing lunch."
"My fugitive's head on a platter?" Sam grumbled, an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach now that Catherine had reminded him of food along with a painful feeling a bit lower down signaling the call of nature that he needed to answer rather quickly. He glanced around, his head throbbing even stronger at the motion before he spotted a tiny bathroom. He started to try to move again before realizing that he wasn't going anywhere hooked to all of those machines.
"Sam, where do you think...." Catherine started to say as she saw him trying to move before figuring out what the problem was. She stood up and gently patted him before heading for the door. "I'll go and get the nurse to get you unhooked from those things for a few minutes, okay?"
Catherine was back a moment later with a nurse who swiftly disconnected the monitor wires and oxygen, leaving the IV line as the only thing hindering Sam's movement.
"Here," Catherine said as she reached out, wrapping an arm around him to take some of his weight as he and the nurse helped him walk. The nurse took charge of guiding the IV pole. When Sam frowned, she continued. "I'm not taking any chances on you falling and getting your head hurt again, Sam. Not after what we've been through today with you." The two women helped him into the restroom and then the nurse backed away a few steps, allowing the two marshals some privacy. "Besides, it isn't like I haven't seen everything before."
Sam rolled his eyes in resignation, knowing all too well that Catherine wasn't about to budge when she was in a mood like this. He just wondered what in the world had upset her so. "Been awhile," he muttered in response.
"Not that long," retorted Catherine. "Besides, it's like riding a bike. You don't forget. And you are very... memorable, Sam."
"Sam chuckled, old memories coming back. "Remember the time I had that nasty stuff that illegal alien perp brought in?"
And wound up flat on your back for 6 days? I do indeed," Catherine replied, not adding that it was partially due to Sam's on stubbornness that he had been sick that long. "I did nurse duty then, too, as I recall."
"Yeah. Damn good nurse, for a cop." Gerard teased.
Meanwhile, Catherine had gotten Sam maneuvered properly around in the small bathroom. To allow him some modicum of privacy, well as much as he could expect in one of those gowns, she steadied him from behind as he fiddled with the front of the gown. She chuckled at the sound of flowing water, followed by a soft sigh from the deputy.
Better, huh?" she asked, as they slowly made their way back to the bed, the nurse once more on Sam's other side.
"Yeah."
"Well, they pumped quiet a lot of fluids into you. I'm not surprised."
"Really? Why? I almost drowned. I wouldn't think that'd be a problem." Sam swore he didn't know why all of his chases seemed to result in his getting soaked to the skin. If his wardrobe was anything like Cosmo's, the Marshals Service would have been in the red long ago from dry cleaning bills.
Erm," hedged Catherine, still not ready to talk about what happened. "I'll tell you later...."
A few minutes later, Sam was safely tucked back in bed again and rewired, Catherine right at his side holding his hand once more. He shook his head gently at that, sure that something she wasn't telling him was going on. He had never seen her make a fuss like this before. If his head would just stop pounding for about five seconds, he would demand that she let him know whatever it was she was trying to keep from him.
"Want me to see if they can do something for that headache?" Catherine said gently. Sam wouldn't admit being in pain, she knew, but she could tell from the tightening around his eyes that his head was really hurting him. "I can see about getting you some food too."
"They got donuts here? The ones with the...."
"The little sprinkles. I know. I'm sure they can find some. And maybe some soup or something too." Catherine said as she stood again, leaning down and gently kissing his forehead before heading for the door. "You just close your eyes and try to relax. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Moments after Catherine had left the room, Nurse Owens entered. Seeing Sam lying restlessly in bed, she smiled at him. She was so relieved that he was going to be okay after the scare he had given them. "Well, hello. I'm your night nurse. Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"
Gerard stared at her, puzzled. There was something very familiar.... "I know you...."
"Yes, I'm Nurse Owens. I found you."
"Found me?"
Yes." Noticing the frown lines around his eyes, she repeated, "How are you feeling?"
"Headache." He grimaced.
Owens nodded. "On it. Back in a flash."
Before he could react, she was gone, returning moments later with a small pill container and a cup of water. "Here. Doctors left a pain prescription for you."
Gerard took the pill and water from her, and in seconds it was gone.
"Good. Now settle back and let it work." He cocked a slightly defiant eyebrow at her, as if to say, I have work to do. Why in the world did all of these women seem determined to keep him flat on his back? "Trust me. It'll work a lot better if you don't fight it." Owens smiled at him, but her eyes were stern. Gerard nodded, knowing better than to disagree with a nurse. He knew from experience what they could do if crossed.
The nurse set about taking his vitals while he leaned back and tried to follow her instructions. After a few minutes, she saw the frown on his forehead smooth away, and he relaxed. She nodded to herself in satisfaction. "Better?" she asked. That was one of the best parts of the job, doing something so small that made a patient feel better quickly.
Yeah," Sam answered, settling into the bed.
She tided around the room for a minute or two before he stated, "...Sleepy. S'posed to....?"
"Yeah, it will. It's got hydrocodone in it."
"Oh."
He watched her for a few more minutes as she moved about the room, his eyes growing heavy-lidded. She moved with purpose, efficiently placing items where they could be best utilized, making sure he had all necessary supplies, putting a container of water within his reach. All was done with grace and an economy of motion.
"Nurse?"
"Hm?"
What's y'r name?"
"Owens. "Nurse Owens."
"No. Firs' name." A bit of a Texan twang was becoming audible in his speech.
"Oh. Stevie."
"Stevie," Gerard repeated slowly. "Like it."
Thanks."
"Stevie, what'd y'mean, y'foun' me?"
"Oh, that." Nurse Owens hesitated, deffident, then decided he seemed well enough to hear the truth. She just hoped that it didn't upset him too much. Goodness knows that she had been plenty upset by what happened. "Well, there was some sort of mistake when you were brought in. We... lost you for a bit. Seems your paperwork got switched with someone else's or something, and you were left just outside the morgue, in the corridor. You were suffering from exposure, and might've died if you hadn't been found quickly." It was obvious to her from the expression on his face that he was reading between the lines of her explanation. Intelligent man.
"You found me."
"Yes." Stevie blushed slightly. Thank heavens he doesn't know what I was thinking when I found him in that corridor, she thought, and blushed a bit more at the recollection. Her patient watched her with dark eyes. "We got you in a treatment room, and started heating you up and hydrating you with warmed fluids."
Gerard thought for moment. "Tha'splains it."
"Explains what?"
He jerked his thumb at the bathroom door. She glanced at the door, then at him. Suddenly his meaning dawned on he, and she chuckled. "Yep. That 'splains it."
Gerard elbowed himself up, slightly relieved that the movement didn't make the headache start again. He gestured to her with his free hand. "C'mere."
"What?"
"C'mere," he slurred, the narcotics beginning to take full effect. He patted the bed beside him. "Sit."
Even drugged, Sam Gerard was still Sam Gerard, and Stevie obeyed. As she sat beside him, she began, "What do you nee...."
Gerard cupped her cheek with his hand, then slid it behind her neck, bringing her face down to his. His lips covered hers gently in a soft kiss. When it was over, he looked deep into the blue eyes and simply murmured, "Thanks."
Her eyebrows climbed, and then she dropped her gaze as unexpected tears filled her eyes. He noticed.
Wha's wrong?"
No... nothing. I'm," Stevie struggled to regain her composure," "I'm just not used to being thanked."
Sam studied her for a moment through his drugged haze, then smiled. "Maybe wh'n I get outta here," he began, "We c'n go to dinner an' I c'n thank you properly."
"That would be nice... Sam," she answered softly. "I'd like that." She returned his smile. The she grew mock-stern. "But in the meantime, you're still my patient, and you need to rest."
Yes, Ma'am," he grinned mischievously, leaning back as she tucked him in. "Restin' now."
The nurse stared at the deputy marshal. Hm, she thought. With his hair all tousled and his eyes dilated from the med, and that grin, he looks so boyish. He's adorable. I could go for that. She shook herself from her musings, and made some notations in his chart. Then she hung the chart back on the foot of the bed and watched her patient. Sam was sound asleep.
Stevie Owens smiled to herself. Even if he didn't remember his invitation, she knew Gerard's thank had been straight from the heart.
A gratified nurse exited the room with a smile to continue her rounds.
A few minutes later, Catherine Walsh entered the room, a box of donuts in hand, and smiled at the sight of a peacefully sleeping deputy Sam Gerard. She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before sitting down at his bedside again and taking his hand in hers.