Chapter 14

A part of his mind registered that someone had invaded his territory, the prickling at the back of his neck let him know that he wasn't alone anymore. He just didn't care, in fact he didn't think he would ever care about anything else for as long as he lived.

Sable was loathe to move or even breathe too loudly for the sight that greeted her on the other side of the door was so profound years of training went out the window.

What had he done to himself? Standing in the middle of the room clad in all black he resembled a warrior of old. Every muscle was tense and locked, the intensity of what he felt was clearly evident in his body language.

His teeth were locked to try and prevent the shaking and trembling that racked his body. That's exactly what he was doing, shivering so hard it was hard to imagine how remained standing. His legs were braced in a fighting stance as if he were rebelling against the very air he breathed.

Air escaped his lungs so hard it seemed as if there were none in the room, his chest heaved with the lack of air being taken in. There was still a deadly smile on his face, one that positively screamed danger, look out, and she was going to be the stupid one caught in the cross-fire for not heeding the warning.

A trickle of blood ran from underneath the black sunglasses he wore, but Sands didn't notice it. He felt the urge to yell again, he'd won, he'd beaten all the ties that bound him.

He fell to one knee on the ground, head upward, one hand palm down on the floor. His legs could no longer support him now that the realization sunk in. Shaking all the more he forced himself to his feet again not wanting to succumb to the weakness that infected his body so easily. The music faded as Sable turned down the volume, it didn't matter now. He had won!

"Sands," a cool hand came to rest on his overly warm forehead.

"In the flesh," Sands replied, she smelled like rain and all things good and pure. It just made his victory all the more poignant, never again would his lack of sight worry him. He'd fought death and emerged the victor, he wouldn't have to worry about them anymore now.

"Will you lie down?" She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and half led half followed him to the bed.

"Sure, sugarbutt. Gonna join me," he laughed, a wicked delighted sound that she'd never heard come from him before.

"Once I wipe the blood from your face I'm gone. I'm going to sleep, be warm, and dream of nothing." He could hear the smile in her voice and had the strange urge to kiss her. Where had that come from?

"You're soaking wet," he registered the cold that spread through him from where she touched him. Her unbound hair touched his arm and he could feel how much like silk it was even though beads of water collected on the ends and dripped down his arm to land on the floor. Every strand felt as hot as wildfire but he didn't say anything or move away.

"I know." Sable hesitated at his lack of innuendo. She looked around her at his room. It wasn't cluttered at all and aside from the television, stereo, and bookshelf of books it held not much else. Only a simple bureau and dresser in the corner and far side of the room erased the Spartan emptiness.

She took out a pair of soft black pants and a black t-shirt from inside the dresser and put them on the bed. Sands would reject help for that and right now she was more worried about the line of blood that still coursed down his cheek. It reminded her of Mexico, but this time it was luckily only one side.

"Here, sorry about that. Change into these and I'll be back with a cloth for your face." She put the clothes on the bed next to him and tried to move past him when he stood up and blocked her way.

"You running again?" he asked. What the hell? What did he have to lose? He lowered his head and captured her mouth in a kiss. She tasted coffee and tequila, but strangely the combination wasn't at all displeasing as she kissed him in return.

Looking into his face with glimmering eyes she stepped back and so did he. Neither knew how to react, Sands was used to cheap women who didn't want anything from him than a quick lay and a few dollars.

This was a new situation entirely and he realized for the first time that a fast lay wasn't going to be enough this time. He was tired of all of that, the impersonal groping in the dark. It had worked well enough before but now even if it was a one night stand, it would be different somehow. . .

"I- um- I'll be back soon." She stared at him for a minute more and then left the door open as she went towards the kitchen. Sands' head was turned to where she had been standing, and with a soft smile made his usually cold, merciless features seem young and handsome he shrugged it off and put on the clean shirt.

In the kitchen she wet and rung out the towel so many times her knuckles were red, but at least it bought her time. Water ran down the drain and she finally turned the knob on the sink to make it stop running.

What was she doing? Talk about keeping things professional, she involuntarily shivered when she opened the freezer door to put two ice cubes into a second towel.

There was no excuse because she had kissed him back and goddamnit she was twenty-three years old and acting like a teenager! Thoroughly exasperated with herself she went back to the bedroom and sat on the corner of the bed next to him.

"Welcome back," he threw the old clothes into the corner.

"Yup, back again." She touched his arm as warning and gently wiped the blood away with the cloth. "Does it hurt?"

"No more than expected."

"I meant your face," Sable laughed.

"So did I." Sands took the towel and turned his head. It still hurt, of course it did, but now it was a lot more bearable and he could concentrate around it to block the pain. All it was just a new form of discomfort, pain was a mind-set and he'd learned how to control all kinds of it through the various levels of training both from his father and from the CIA.

"Still aiming to go to sleep?" he balled up the towel and threw it in the same pile as his clothes.

"Once I change, yeah." Sable didn't know where this conversation was leading, had he forgotten about it already? It was certainly possible. . .

"Shit. You don't have any change of clothes, do you? We should have stopped at your place on the way home. In the bureau over there, take a shirt or something before you freeze."

"Hey, Sands?" she asked as she took an oversized blue shirt with a black stripe from a drawer, "Why did you let me stay?"

She was uncomfortable with this new side of Sheldon Jeffrey Sands. If he would make some perverse remark about her being cold, drenched, it would be better than this sudden show of concern. He fought everything, but he had given in to something she'd expected him to kill someone for.

"Figured it would bring Arnoldo back around to our side. . ."

"Come on. Why did you really?"

"I don't know. Seemed like a good idea at the time, and you would have anyway so I saved a lot of time and trouble and just told you where the extra room was."

"Smart, very smart." Sable couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I thought so."

Silence filled the room again, Sable sighed and wondered what to do. Sands decided for them, he tipped his head to the side and they kissed again.

Authors Note: Hahahahaha, I am REALLY not good at writing this romance thing. Lol. I TRIED though. . . and I promise that more action (the fighting kind. *rolls eyes*) will happen soon. What did you think? Good, bad, horrible? Sands and Sable? *faint, die* I got a few comments wanting them to get together. . . so they did. . . and. . . fuck