I finally updated. I apologize for the long delay. As always, many thanks for your encouraging reviews.
Ch. 10 Wounds
She stops struggling and he lets go of her wrists. The tension is palpable but words are no longer spoken. Instead, she watches him get up creating a huge shadow over her. Taking the bottle of champagne and suitcase, he begins walking towards the trees.
She stays lying on the ground contemplating whether or not to continue their battle of wits. Listlessly, she puts her hand to her forehead and notices that it is moist. She opens her hand to find it stained in crimson. Immediately, she checks herself finding nothing serious aside from a few scratches and bruises.
It was his. Grabbing a clump of sand in her hand, she rubs her hands together removing the blood. Throwing the rest of the sand to the ground, she reluctantly gets up and follows him into the trees.
As he walked, the sound of birds and crunching of the leaves echoed throughout. Moving aside some shrubbery, he decides to sit down his body preventing him from continuing on his expedition. Finding a rock, he props the suitcase besides it and decides to treat his wounds.
Carefully, he tries to remove his jacket by removing one sleeve and gently trying to peel of the other. He gasps as he moves his other arm from the sleeve. He closes his eyes and bites his lip because even the act of removing his clothes is too painful. Finally, he removes his jacket after carefully peeling it off – his dried blood causing his clothes to stick to his skin.
Biting his lower lip, he looks at the thousand-dollar jacket ruined by a huge slash from where the knife pierced him. Remembering, he moves his right hand where the very knife hangs on his belt.
He was both delighted and disappointed that Sydney got to kill the bastard who did this to him. In his opinion, she didn't do a too bad a job of killing him. However, he would have liked to see him suffer a little bit more.
He starts to unbutton his shirt from the top but the simple act of moving his arms up is more than he can bear. Instead, he decides to start from the bottom.
As he is working on his fourth button, he notices the bushes start moving. Then, he hears the sound of twigs snapping as something start moving towards him. Immediately, he grabs the knife.
When the bushes stop moving, he clutches it tighter. His eyes grow fierce as he prepares to attack whatever is lurking there.
Sydney stops seeing the bottle of champagne on the ground. She picks it up and moves the shrubbery aside to reveal Sark sitting with a knife in his hand.
Humored by the sight of Sark expecting something worse, she sarcastically says "Boo!"
"Well, what a surprise. Care to 'teach' me another lesson?" speaking calmly as he retracts the knife. Not many people have ever seen him scared and lived to tell the tale but in her case he'd make an exception.
"As a matter of fact, a lesson on stealing. That's my suitcase. I found it," pointing towards the suitcase besides him.
"Actually, this is my suitcase" moving his hand towards the suitcase's handle.
"Unless of course you still play finders, keepers," smirking at her.
Her eyes narrow, "Like I said, I don't play games." She grabs the suitcase but he makes no move towards it.
Holding on to it, she looks at the lock and hears him say, "The code is 2-1-4."
She rolls the numbers and opens the suitcase to find shirts, socks, and suits. It was his suitcase.
She closes it and moves towards him giving him the suitcase. He moves his hand towards it but she retracts it.
He asks, "I thought you said you didn't like to play games."
"Do you have a first aid kit?" she asks still holding onto the suitcase.
Confused by her sudden change of heart, he replies, "It's in the black bag on the corner."
She drops the suitcase on the ground and opens it. She opens the bag and finds a couple bandages, a sewing kit from the hotel, and other toiletries.
Holding the bag, she asks, "Where's the wound?"
"Why are you being nice?" asking her the same question she asked.
"I'm not. Just doing it for my subconscious," she replies.
He resumes to unbutton his shirt. Stopping he asks, "Would you?"
"What are your arms broken?" starting to regret her offer.
As he resumes to unbutton his shirt, he continues, "Actually, because of that little incident on the beach..."
She shoves his hands to the side. Rolling her eyes, she stoops down in front of him and begins to unbutton his shirt.
She doesn't look up at him but she can feel his eyes watching her. He was always watching her. She tries to ignore it but all she can hear is him breathing
He wants to say something sardonic but refrains for fear of her giving him more injuries than healing ones.
As she is undoing the last button, their eyes meet. She breaks away saying, "Take off your shirt."
"I'm afraid I'm enjoying this far more than I should but would you do it for me?" his eyes reflecting pure amusement.
As she removes the sleeve from his right arm, she whispers into his ear, "Stop tempting me…"
Pulling the rest of the shirt so that his other arm is strained, she continues, "Into beating you with your own arm."
He remains quiet but his smile reflects his every thought. She continues to remove his shirt to reveal his white undershirt stained in burgundy.
Tossing the shirt to the side, Sydney rips the undershirt to reveal his wound.
He gasps, "Do try to be a little more gentle."
His entire back is covered in blood. Using the undershirt, she wipes away the blood to reveal various scars.
Placing her hand on a bullet wound, he laughs.
"What?" she asks.
He shakes his head, "Nothing. Tickles."
"It's pretty bad," she tells him noting the three-inch gash in his back.
Turning his towards her, "I've had worst."
Looking at his scars, she believes him. There are various stitches all over his body revealing that this man was nothing but human.
As she looks at his wounds, she notices that he has a tattoo by his right shoulder. As she begins to study it, he interrupts her thoughts by saying, "As I recall, there was the time I had an ice pick thrown into my leg."
She laughs recalling a moment that seems so long ago.
He raises an eyebrow, "I'm glad to see my pain is funny to you."
Looking at her, he continues, "I had to wear a huge cast for months. It was dreadfully itchy."
She grabs the bottle of champagne and pours the alcohol over his wounds.
He winces, "That stings."
"Well, you deserved it. I nearly drowned when you shot a hole through the ice," giving him the bottle.
Taking a sip, he laughs, "Obviously nothing can stop you Agent Bristow."
Returning the bottle to her, she uses the liquor to wash her hands.
Picking up the sewing kit, she asks him, "Any color preference?"
He asks, "What are my options?"
Shaking her head, she removes the black thread, "Standard black it is."