They decided to stay for a week or more. Both men figured that the cartel were too damaged to mount an assault anytime soon, and Rana couldn't care less. So they lived, like a dysfunctional family, two brothers and a sister on the run. El got the food, Sands ate it and Rana lived in the bathroom.

....................Rana.......................

She stepped into the shower, turned the water on and waited shivering for it to warm up. Once it did she let the water rush over her. Her feet stung, in fact they burned. She winced and sank to the tiled floor, slid the shower door open a bit and placed her feet out of the shower. She sighed feeling the water bombard her, and felt her body relax. Too much. She felt like jelly, the hot water working on her muscles, making it almost impossible to move. She realized the position this put her in and that she needed to get out soon. So she reached up for the taps, but they were too high up the wall to reach from a sitting position. She strained trying to reach. She couldn't stand, of that she was sure, her feet hurt too much. Her vision started to fade out into blackness, the last thing she saw was her hand reaching for the taps.

................Sands...............

Sands paced outside the bathroom door. He needed to piss. He banged on the door. "Get out!" he growled. She was always in there these days. He waited two minutes, but the water kept going.
He let out a snarl and stormed into the bathroom closing the door behind him. "I'm just going to pee, I'll be out soon", he informed the bloody woman. There was no answer from her. He did what he came to do, then flushed the toilet, expecting her to swear at him for the change in water temperature that would cause. Nothing.
"Gina" he taunted drawing out the name she despised. No response. "Gina" he snapped. Maybe she was ignoring him for using her real name. "Rana?" still nothing. Sands went to the shower, he couldn't hear any movement. He got to the door when his shin hit into something sticking out of the shower door. He reached down. A foot, two feet actually, and they were both bleeding. Sands flung the door open slightly panicked. He reached in and turned off the water.

He felt down the shower wall to find her head against the tiles. He went further down and shook her shoulder. Her head flopped, but she did not wake up. "Shit" he said, grabbing the towel from the nearby wall. He draped it over her unconscious form and called for El.

..........El..........

The mariachi was in his room, strumming on his guitar when he heard Sands shout for him. He sighed and placed his guitar on the bed before going to find the CIA agent. "Sands?" he called when he couldn't find the man in the lounge or his room.

"Bathroom El" Sands called in annoyance, but there was something else in the mans voice. El quickened his step. As soon as he stepped into the bathroom he moved to the shower. Sands was leaning against its frame, and Rana's bleeding feet where resting on the door frame. El moved to Ranas aid. Sands had already draped a towel over her, it was soaked.

"Get more towels" El said as he stooped and lifted Rana off the cold floor. Sands handed him two more towels. El wrapped them both around her as best he could and took her out to the couch where Sands had placed a bed sheet. El laid her down then went to the medicine cabinet. He'd have to re-stitch her feet, and put anti infection ointment on them. As well as see that she did not freeze or catch fever.

He went into the kitchen and put the kettle to boil.

When he came out he stopped at the sight before him. Sands was kneeling over Rana, his hand slowly removing the towel around her neck and pulling it down, before returning to her throat. El watched in silence as Sands ran his hand over the scar that marred her neck. The man had no expression on his face as he traced it from one side to the other.

Then just as gently as he had removed it, he took the towel and moved it back up to her throat. Tucking it in under her chin.

El was rather disturbed by this show of what appeared to be affection. Perhaps Sands had just been curious. He'd never be able to touch Ranas' scar with her awake that was for sure. And since Sands couldn't see the only way he'd ever know was by touch.

El walked back into the room, on his way to the bathroom where the medicines were kept. Sands sprung away from Rana to the armchair where he sat in mock comfort. El grinned. Sands hadn't realized that he was watching him from the kitchen.

After retrieving the desired instruments from the bathrooms first aid kit El returned to the lounge. "I will have to give her pain killers" he said flicking the needle to get the air from it. Sands nodded curtly, El injected the sedatives and anesthetics into her easily. Then set about stitching up her feet, before smothering it all in ointment and bandaging them.

Sands sat there listening to it.

Two weeks later landed them on the coast. The boredom of not hunting cartel was getting to them all. Sands in particular, he had become almost unbearable and El and he were constantly at each others throats. Literally. Rana had to shoot at them to stop them the last time, the bullet had buried itself onto the floor between the two and they had dropped it. Something in the second week Rana suggested they go to the beach. Both had steadfastly refused but in less than two days they came...

..........Two days later..........

All three lay there, in the sand. To two of them it was a calm grey day on the subdued beach. No one around, neither hot nor cold, grey waters mirroring the sky. The slight tinge of rain filling all three with its scent, the sand held more warmth than the air so it felt extremely relaxing. Rana wondered at what they were all doing like this. Lying like sitting ducks in the sand. Heads close together, all three completely relaxed in each others company.

The clouds rolled in silently. All three had been sharing stories of childhood, cartel, experiences. She was currently silent. Listening to the Mariachi and the ex CIA agent talk. They were talking about laying low, and what caused them to come out guns blazing. She smiled as El blamed his re-emergence on Sands and Sands replied with a taunt that sounded pleased with himself.

"I went into hiding once" she said softly. Both listened in. "Right after it happened. I guess I was nursing my wounds. Took me four months to realize what I was really doing. Hiding like a rat. So I came out of hiding, and went straight for revenge." There was silence. Sands smirked, she could feel it. El was silent for a while.

"Had things been different, I may have played besides you" he said thoughtfully. She sighed wistfully.

"Ah well. I guess it wasn't meant to be" she said regretfully, Sands snorted.

"Give me a break" he scorned, but it held no malice in it.

"You should learn an instrument Sands" El told him and he grunted.

"Hands are made for pulling the trigger. Not fiddling with strings" he told them. There was silence.

"What about afterwards?" she asked, changing the topic. Her voice seemed subdued.

No one spoke. The wind started to pick up, but none of them moved. The sand swirled around them, the storm had come. The wind sped up, blowing a gale so that sand stung any exposed skin. Still, none of them moved. She had the feeling that if one stood the others would follow, but none of them did. Both men were leaders. Masters of themselves, but still they waited for the others. She was pondering why, when a random thought popped into her head. How nice it is to lie here and talk without the fear of rejection or put downs. The beach seemed to have dulled Sands tongue and removed El's natural judgment. And she had actually talked instead of listening and analyzing. They were almost friends here. Compadres even. In the very least it seemed they each shared a mutual respect for the other two. If she got up, then it would be broken. But they couldn't lie here for ever. The sky was growing darker, and the rain was falling heavily. Within moments all three were drenched.

Silence reigned.

The eye of the storm hit, and it went eerily quiet. "Will there even be an afterwards?" she asked uncertainly.

"Not for me" Sands replied calmly, stating the facts.

"There isn't an afterwards. We all move forwards, that is all" El answered her, sure of his words. She nodded to herself.

"I guess I should have known" she muttered and looked up at the sky again. The clouds were threatening another downpour, but in the far distance she could see the sun. Setting as it was, painting the storms end in red. She wondered if it meant anything.

Dun dun DUUUUH! :D