A/N: Just a little break for fluff. Enjoy :-)
There was darkness, and in the darkness there was no pain. Awareness came first, and he wondered at the absence of pain, but only for a minute. As the darkness began to recede, pain hit full force, and he groaned. He heard voices in the distance but he couldn't make out what they were saying. His arm felt stiff, and he tried to move it, but the searing pain that shot through his shoulder and into his head drove him back toward the darkness. He tried to shift his position, but it was no use. The pain was overwhelming. He groaned again.
He was having trouble sorting out the voices from the background noises, and he gave up trying. He couldn't make out the only voice he wanted to hear anyway. He tried to move again, and again the pain threatened to consume him.
Slowly, the pain began to recede and he frowned in his mind as he felt the world tilt and spin. He felt sick. He tried to move again and had more success with less pain, but he still had trouble getting comfortable. No, he was so far from comfortable he couldn't remember ever being there at all. He slowly forced his eyes open, squinting against the light. Someone approached his bed. "Eames?"
No, it wasn't her. It was another woman, one he didn't know. She smiled at him. "My name is Martha, and I'm going to be your nurse while you're here in recovery."
"Where's Eames?"
"In the surgical waiting room. Dr. Farcas has already talked with her, so she knows you're doing well. How is your pain?"
He frowned darkly. "I want to see her."
"As soon as..."
"No. Now."
He shifted again, and it didn't hurt as badly. She rested her hand on his shoulder. "Settle down. Let me ask the charge nurse if she can come back. I'll be right back."
He acknowledged her with a brief nod. As she walked away, his eyes slid closed. He tried to force them open again, feeling himself fade in and out and struggling to stay awake. It was hard...until he felt a cool hand come to rest against his cheek. He finally succeeded in forcing his eyes open, and there she was, a small smile on her face. "Are you giving the nurses a hard time?"
"I...wanted to see you."
"Well, here I am. How are you feeling?"
"Not so good."
"Do you need something more for the pain?"
He tried to shift his position again, and another groan was forced from his throat. Eames nodded at Martha, who disappeared from the bedside. "So what's wrong? Why are you being difficult?"
"I wasn't. I just...wanted...you here."
"But why?" She leaned closer to him. "And if you say one word about the case, I'm going home."
One corner of his mouth twitched, but he was in too much pain to smile, even at her. "No, not the case. Just you."
That she could happily accept, and she slid her hand into his. He closed his hand around hers and he fought again to stay awake, which annoyed him. The nurse returned and injected more medicine into his IV, and that was enough to do him in. His eyes closed and, unwillingly, he surrendered to the darkness.
--------------------------------------------------
He felt better when he woke again. The nausea was gone, and so was the spinning sensation. He was able to wake up more easily. The pain was still there, still strong, but no longer overwhelming. He felt a little light-headed from the pain medicine they'd given him, but it was keeping the pain at bay, so he wasn't going to complain. He looked around the room in the dim light. He was in a regular hospital room. He pushed himself up in the bed, groaning involuntarily when he moved his arm. Damn...he had to remember not to do that for awhile. "Bobby?"
"Eames?"
He turned his head toward her voice, watching as she got up from the chair beside the bed. She'd been sleeping. He looked around the room for a clock. Quarter after three? She gave him a sleepy smile and laid her hand over the hand of his injured arm, which rested across his chest. "How do you feel?"
He raised his free hand to the side of her face. "Go home, Eames," he whispered. "You should already be in bed."
"I'm fine. Mike took King home with him for tonight. I had to be sure you're ok, and I know you can understand that so don't give me any grief. Now answer my question."
He caressed her cheek with his thumb. "I feel better." He lightly let his fingers stray across her ear. She closed her eyes, enjoying his light touch more than she probably should. She felt his fingers slide into her hair and she had all the willpower of a wet noodle when he applied a small amount of pressure to bring her forward. When his lips touched hers and he kissed her deeply, she felt the support flow out of her knees, forcing her to lean against the bed to prevent ending up in a heap on the floor. She brought her hands up to frame his face, deepening the kiss further without giving it any thought. It had been many years since a kiss from any man had made her weak-kneed like that. When she stepped back from the kiss, praying her knees would support her weight again, she just stared at him for a long minute. "Where did that come from?" she whispered.
He gave himself a minute to recover. "I...uh, I needed to do that."
"Because?"
"Because I didn't do it before I went into that building, and I came too close to never coming out of it. I...I had to correct my biggest mistake."
"Which is?"
"Never kissing you like that, the way I've always...wanted to. Please don't be mad."
"Mad?" She leaned her hip against the bed. "No, I'm not mad, not at all. But why now, why here? We were at my place alone all day; why not there?"
"I'm sorry. I was distracted by the case and I didn't really think about it much. But in the ER, I got to thinking, what if King hadn't been with us? I wouldn't be here. And what would my biggest regret have been? It would have been not letting you know how I feel about you. I hope...I haven't done anything wrong."
"Wrong? Bobby, I haven't been kissed like that in longer than I can remember."
"Really?" He had a hard time believing that. "You should be kissed like that...often."
"And who the hell is going to kiss me that way?"
"Well, uh, I just did."
"And you're willing to do it again?"
"If you'll let me."
She smiled. "You keep it up and there's no telling what I'll let you do."
"Is that a promise?"
"That's a promise."