Author's Note

Okay…decisions, decisions. I've decided that this story will be taking a turn into a more fleshed out approach. I hope y'all don't mind. I know some of you wanted a lighted hearted story and others have repeatedly requested another "Security-like' mini saga. And who am I to disappoint my fans? So, please excuse the slight summery change. I still keep my promise that I will do my best to make this a nail biter. Expect things to pick up in following chapters. Updates soon, I promise! Love to all of you!

McFadden-

Chapter 3: A Door Left Ajar…

Abby caroused down the long hall that split off into both her and King's living quarters. His room was near the center while hers was down at the end of the hall. She ambled past his door to see that it was open just a crack. She peeked inside to see King, sitting on the foot of his bed, crouched over and rubbing his ankle gingerly. When he jabbed at a particularly sensitive spot, he flinched and let out a hiss of pain. Abby felt sorry for him. He had really taken a beating earlier. A group of nine vampires had descended on King like a pack of rapid wolves. One in particular, had grabbed his ankle mid-kick and put the joint in a new location. She heard the pop and knew the excruciating pain that accompanied that sound, and now that everything was quiet, he was living the pain in retrospect. Abby rapt her knuckles lightly on his doorframe to signal her presence.

"Still sore?"

King looked up and met her eyes momentarily with his tired ones before returning them to his foot. He answered her softly.

"Yeah."

Abby came and knelt down in front of him. She removed his hand and tentatively took his ankle in her own. Tenderly, she brushed her fingers across his swollen ankle bone and carefully assessed the damage. After her visual assessment and prodding with her fingers she was able to determine that it was badly dislocated and that there might be some minor tissue damage to the tendon as well. She knew it would be Hell to have to lodge the socket back into place. Abby's voice was soft and full of concern when she next spoke.

"Okay…do you want the sour or the sweet first?"

King groaned. He knew what that meant; the bad news was damn near unbearable and even the good news wouldn't pleasant either. His hands just clawed at his eyes as Abby patiently waited.

"Give it to me straight Doc…"

"Well, the good news is that you get to rest for a few days."

Fuck! He didn't want to stay cooped up in the hideout for a couple of days! His attention span was the equivalent of a crack-enhanced Chihuahua as it was. The only things that held his concentration was his job and his partners. He wasn't about to lie in bed for days on end. His eyes winced.

"And the sour…"

Abby hesitated for a moment. King braced himself.

"It's definitely dislocated and I think you need to reset it. Then I can wrap it up in an Ace bandage, get you some crutches and muscle-relaxers, and let you recover."

King shook his head furiously in decline. She could tell he was trying to suck it up. She also knew that if he didn't splint it in some was that he could severely injure himself indefinitely.

"No…I'll be alright."

Abby wasn't about to take no for an answer. She could also tell that he knew better. Given the massive amount of running they had to do for a living, damaging it further would mean he would be out of commission for months. And let's face it, as much as Abby loved Caulder, he didn't have half the spirit for fighting the way King does.

"King, please stop being a hardass and let me do this for you. I'm trying my best not to confine you to a bed. The sooner you do this, the faster you'll heal. You know I'm right…"

He grudgingly conceded. It wouldn't be the first time he had to pop a joint back in. She got up and ruffled his hair.

"Be right back."

When she left the room, King looked down on the floor where she had just been. He was going to hate this. She was right. His ankle was killing him. He just wanted to be too proud and let it slide. But, true to her word, he knew Abby would take care of him. She returned brandishing the long fleshed colored strip that would soon become part of his foot. He watched her as she sat back down again and put his foot on her lap.

I'm sorry for being a little too sarcastic in the kitchen earlier. You know that I can't ignore you for long. I hate to see you upset."

That's when realization dawned on King.

"Ahh…so that's why you came in here. Eh. It's no skin off my back Sweetheart, just as long as you don't attack my manhood."

She smiled playfully at him.

"What? Too fragile?"

He gave her a warning look, but his eyes held no malice.

"Hey now…be nice. My injured foot is in you hands."

She looked up at him as innocently as she could.

"Oh I am nice."

King looked at her skeptically.

"Yeah, you may look all sweet and cute now, but I know you better than that and guess what? I'm not buying it Sugar-puss."

Abby just went on setting up his ankle for what she hoped would be a quick pop. She eyed him cautiously.

"You ready."

The anticipation of his face grew and he shook his head, no. He then took a deep breath and nodded. Abby twisted it and they both heard a crunch followed by a colorful list of vocabulary words that she was sure weren't even a part of the English language. King slid from the bed to the floor in that brief moment and was now halfway leaning on Abby's shoulder. She smoothed down his hair and shushed him as Caulder rushed in the room with Zoë looking on from the hallway.

"What happened?

King groaned.

"We were playing 'Doctor' and Abby took it too seriously…"

She smirked at King. Trust him to have a sense of humor even at a time like this. She turned to Caulder and offered the true explanation.

"A dislocated ankle surrounded by torn muscle tissue."

Caulder just bent down and looked at his ankle, hissing at the bruising.

"Right nice job you did for yourself there."

King winced as he tried to sit up straight. He went to go touch his ankle and Abby slapped his hand away.

"Yeah well…I try."

Caulder just cracked a smile and turned around, patting Zoë and leading her out of the hallway. Abby gently wrapped his ankle in the bandage, but then halted herself. King looked at her, confused and expecting something else to be wrong. She sniffed the air and looked at King with an awkward expression. He knew that he was in trouble before Abby even opened her mouth.

"Is that my lotion I smell?"

Guilt made a fleeting pass across King's features but not before Abby saw it. She could already tell that he was in the process of concocting a lie and she caught it before his lips could even form the fib. She looked at him like a mother would look at a naughty child.

"Don't you dare lie to me Hannibal King…I can smell it on you!"

Damnit! He had no excuse for this one; no 'get out of jail free' card. He had to think fast.

"I was ashy…"

A smile crept on Abby's face and then she broke out into a full laugh before she could even stop herself. She couldn't even pretend to be mad at him anymore. Sometimes her friend was too much for his own good.

"I'm disappointed in you. That's the best you can come up with? I think you may be losing your touch."

He looked appalled by her statement.

"I'll have you know that 9 out of 10 women prefer a man with soft and supple skin."

Abby just continued to giggle.

"You know what…I don't even what to know why you were using it. Whatever the reason might be, I'm sure I would end up with nightmares if I found out. So, I'm going to go downstairs and get you a nice pair of crutches, some tasty food to wash down the 'feel good' pills, and try not to think of the possible uses you could have for my lotion. While I'm gone, try not to do anything stupid. And when I get back, I want you in that bed."

A mischievous grin appeared on his face and Abby immediately regretted her phrasing. She gave King a chastising look, but smiled along with it as she huffed.

"…You know what I mean!"

Abby returned half an hour later padding down the hall with crutches in one hand, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the other, and a bottle of water haphazardly resting in and out of a cargo pocket of her jeans. She heard King whimpering from where she stood and thought of what a big baby he could be. Listening harder she could barely make out what he was saying.

"Hurry Abby…hurry."

There was no sign of immediate danger in his voice, besides sounding out of breath. Setting the supplied outside his door, she crept up to peek in. It came as a shock to her that King was twisting around on his bed, moaning. But this wasn't moaning in agony, there he was, pleasuring himself and whispering her name over and over again. A part of her wanted to turn and run, but seeing him in this state made her oddly feel voyeuristic. Something about finding him this way both fascinated and intrigued her. Making sure that she was out of site, she continued to watch King stroke himself, undulating his hips faster and faster with his own rhythm. Abby was so caught up that she almost moaned with him. A few minutes passed as King looked as though he was reaching his peak; one of the crutches slid from it's propped up spot and landed with a loud bang on the floor. King immediately bolted up in his bed looking through the doorway, while Abby was nearly laid out in the hallway hoping that King didn't see her.