I feel like I should explain, my kid is the best EVER, she will let me write while she plays by herself, at 22 months. when she is sick though I can't get her off me so I can go to the bathroom. I LOVE that little person! And thank you to all the well wishers. She is getting better...my writing should be on track in another day or two...so there might be some longish breaks between chapters, like last and this one. You should really like this one...it's closer to the M rating than the others..by a bit...

Shot Me Down

An hour later the door to her room opened and Cal walked in with a duffle bag in his hand. He was grinning, all proud of himself for his genius. "Where's Ria?" She asked but she already knew the answer.

"At the office." He set the bag on the bed.

"I asked you to ask her so you wouldn't be alone in my bedroom." She said pulling the bag closer to her, worried about what she was going to find in the bag.

"Worried I might snoop and find something?" He grinned even bigger. Gillian tried to see if he had in fact done exactly what she'd been worried he'd do. "Like in the drawer next to your bed?" She felt her cheek heat up slightly but she wasn't going to be ashamed. She was single. And since Burns… "Naw, don't worry." He relented. "Torres did the dirty work. I just brought the bag."

Relived, Gillian unzipped the bag and looked inside. She wasn't sure what she expected to find in it but was pleasantly surprised to see warm comfortable clothes that would be easy to put on with a bad shoulder. She also noted there were no bras in the bag, obviously because they were a two hand job. She tried not to dwell on why Torres would know exactly which clothes to choose. "I'll be right back." She told Cal and extracted herself from the bed, careful not to flash him on the way.

While difficult and breath stealing, Gillian managed to dress herself in a tank top, button down baggy shirt that had once been Alec's and a pare of yoga pants. Her hair was a mess, dried blood caking it to the base of her neck, but there was nothing she could do about it for the moment. She avoided looking directly at herself in the mirror, she had no desire to see the blood they missed while they cleaned her to sew her up or to see the wounds.

She came out and did her best not to look self-conscious, braless, in front of Cal. The warm smile on his face seemed to help a lot.

A thought came to her suddenly. "Why hasn't Wallowski come to see me about my statement yet?"

Cal bit his lip. "I fudged a bit on that. Told 'er you weren't awake yet."

"Why'd you do that?" She asked and got the impression he hadn't wanted his bed buddy to see the change in his relationship with her. "Well you can drop me off at home and tell Wallowski she can get me there."

"Don't know about that, Love." He shifted on his feet and she knew he'd thought of something.

"Why's that?" She asked sighing, all she wanted to do was go home, get cleaned up and go to sleep in her own bed.

Cal grabbed her bag and her purse from the bedside chest of drawers. She tried not to notice it was ruined from her blood. "You're coming home with me."

She frowned. "Cal, no. I'm fine. I'll be fine."

"No debatin' it. You'll stay in my guest room. Stop arguin'."

"I'm not arguing." She crossed her good arm over her chest, trying for defiance but he gave her an 'oh really?' expression and started to walk away.

"Come on then." He called behind him and she had no choice but to follow him.

Cal opened the door and gestured for her to go first into his house. She shrugged off his coat, lent to her since her's was ruined, with his help once she was inside. She glanced around the warmly decorated home and tried to figure out why she'd been so adamant about staying at her own house. She'd been to his place so many times it was almost like home, surrounded by his things.

She followed him further into his home, to the stairs up through the kitchen. He passed the spare room she assumed she'd be staying in, confused she continued after him even when he went into his room. He set the bag on his bed and she raised her eyebrows at him in question. "Thought you'd want to get cleaned up." He offered and she eyed him suspiciously. "Tubs better." She frowned but went into the ensuite, and seeing the tub she was more concerned with soaking in hot soothing water than anything that Cal had planned.

Cal followed her in. He pulled out a huge fluffy grey towel from the small closet in the corner then disappeared through the bedroom door only to reappear with shampoo and conditioner in his arms. He bent down and turned on the water, making sure it was the right temperature before standing and turning towards her.

She went to thank him when his hands came out and started to unbutton her shirt but stopped. "What do you think you're doing?" She asked and her voice came out breathy at the thought of Cal undressing her. Her heart started to pound in her chest and she couldn't meet his eyes.

"Ever tried to wash your hair with one hand?" He countered and his voice was thick. She'd never heard that tone from him and it sent a thrill of desire through her.

She brought her left hand up and covered his but didn't stop him. "I don't want you to see me naked." She left off the 'yet' but she knew he heard it. She met his eyes this time and she could see the arousal in his eyes that she was sure mirrored hers.

His eyes went down to the v in her tank top that he'd exposed and she nodded her permission, letting her hand fall to her side. He finished unbuttoning her shirt then helped remove the sling her arm was in. He pushed the shirt down her arms and the sensation was like a caress causing her to shiver. The shirt hit the floor with a whoosh. She expected him to take hold of the hem of the tank top next and pull it up off her but he placed his hands on her hips and made her turn around so she was facing the tub. He leaned passed her and shut off the water before returning behind her.

His fingers skimmed the skin between her top and her pants causing a flush of heat to rush to the apex of her thighs. She swallowed, licking her lips and opening her mouth to suck in air. She couldn't believe how erotic it was to have Cal undressing her without any outwardly sexual intention. He pulled the fabric up, guiding her left arm through the arm hole and then over her head before being excruciatingly gentle as he slid the shirt over her wounded right side.

The combination of cool air and mist, from the hot water, on her breasts caused her nipples to pucker and she had to bite her lip to stifle the moan. His fingers brushed the skin of her lower back as he curled his fingers in the waistband on her pants. "'Right, Love?" He asked, his voice was rough and it seemed as though it was directly connected to her core. She nodded not trusting her voice.

Taking her panties with them, Cal slid the pants down, his palms smoothing the outsides of her thighs. He held her one leg as she stepped out of the pants and he repeated the action with the other leg. She had no idea how much of her he was seeing, if he was actually looking at her as she stood, technically, naked in front of him. She glanced back at him to find him flushed but mostly turned away. "In you get." She nodded and climbed in, no longer worried if he was looking.

The water was the perfect temperature as she sunk into the tub. The clear water rose up to meet her, just barely covering her breasts. She wished there were bubbles to take cover in but she figured the soap would sting like a bitch in her wounds so she brought her knees up, leaned forward and held her legs with her left arm. "'Kay." She said letting Cal know it was safe for him to look.

He turned to face her and she hoped he would blame the heat for the blush that she could feel on her cheeks. He did a quick, almost imperceptible once over, before moving to kneel at the edge of the tub. His pupils were dilated and she was sure hers were too. Under different circumstances she might have asked him to join her but, while her mind was ready, her body wasn't. She didn't want anything hindering her when she decided to take their relationship to the next level. She wondered if he understood that about her too.

Gillian watched over her shoulder as Cal pushed his sleeves up and grabbed a washcloth from the tub edge then soaked it in the water behind her. He brought it up and she felt the warm water run down her back before he pressed the cloth to her flesh, washing away dried blood and Betadine. He repeated the motions again and again before moving up to wet her hair. He switched the cloth to his left hand and used his right to lift her hair out of the way as he washed the blood from the nape of her neck. His touch was so tender it caused her to shiver. "Cold?" His voice was so low that she almost didn't hear him.

"No." She whispered back, shaking her head. He switched the cloth back to his right hand and dabbed lightly at the front of her wounded shoulder. She peaked up at him, his face was grim, and his mouth set in a thin line as he over concentrated on what he was doing. She knew while he was doing his best not to look he had a very clear line of sight to her cleavage, more so than any of her v-neck tops.

He squeezed the water out of the washcloth and place it on the tub edge then reached for the shampoo. Lost in his gentle touch she had almost forgotten why he was helping her in the first place. She tested the strength of her shoulder by shrugging and flinched. He was right it would have been a nightmare trying to wash her hair on her own. She faced forward as he lathered up her hair, closing her eyes against the pleasure of his fingers making small circles on her scalp. "Put your head back." He urged and she obeyed. He picked up the cloth and began rinsing the soap out. A bit of the suds seeped into her wound and she hissed in pain. "Sorry, Love. I'm trying."

"I know." She gave him a smile that she was sure was more of a grimace. When he finished he smoothed in conditioner and she inwardly smiled at his attentiveness. She didn't think he'd remember since men mostly never used conditioner.

Once he was finished rinsing her hair of the moisturizer he set the washcloth on the tub edge again and she tried not to hate the thing because it represented the end of their private moment. She didn't move and Cal didn't motion for her to. She rested her cheek on her knees and looked at Cal. He reached forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger for longer than the gesture required. She closed her eyes as he traced her jaw and down the side of her neck to her shoulder with a finger. She opened her eyes when he got close to the bullet hole in her back. She saw his concern and pain clear on his face. It broke her heart and she wanted to reach out and hold him, tell him it was all going to be okay. She shivered again and this time it was from the cold.

"Let's get you out of the tub." He said, sadly, backing up and grabbing the towel. He held it out lengthwise and high so he couldn't see her as she stood. With careful maneuvering she wrapped the terrycloth around her without having to lift her arm up. He guided her across the slippery tile floor into his bedroom where he made her sit on the edge of his bed. "Be right back." He said and disappeared before she could ask where he was going.

Gillian took the time to check out the wound in the front of her shoulder. It was smaller than she'd expected, tiny stitches holding the hole in a small line. If it healed without infection there might not even be much of a scar. At least nothing to brag about anyway. She wanted to get up and check her back but Cal returned with a brush in hand. He sat down next to her, careful not to jar her shoulder. She didn't ask what he was doing or bother suggesting she could do it herself as he started to brush her hair.

Once he'd gone through it a second time she shifted to look at him. "It's time to call Wallowski."

"Don't want to get dressed first?" He asked using her state of undress as a stall tactic.

"Because I can't get dressed before she gets here." She stated flatly. She reached for the duffle bag, looking through the contents and pulling out choice objects, noting that Cal must have told Torres of his plan so she packed more than just one set of clothes. She ignored the uncomfortable sensation caused by Torres being aware that she was staying at Cal's indefinitely. God knows what that was going to become in the office rumor mill. "I have to give my statement, Cal. I just want to get it over with."

He nodded going serious. "I'll call, you get dressed." He disappeared through the bedroom door. She was about to un-tuck the towel from around her body when Cal's head popped back around the door frame. "Unless you need me to give you a hand with that?" He looked hopeful and mischievous.

"Go on." She pointed for him to go downstairs trying to keep the smile off her face. He gave her a wink and left. She waited until she heard his boots on the stairs before removing her towel.

She chose another tank-top and sweatpants out of much the same things. There were a few long sleeve shirts that buttoned up but none were comfortable or warm enough. The socks were the same. Despite the implications of being seen in Cal's clothes she went to his dresser and borrowed some tube socks then went into his closet for a baggy sweater that zipped up in the front. She didn't bother with the sling as she went to find Cal, not wanting to fuss with it to make it fit over his sweater.

AN: They probably would have kept her in the hospital longer, I don't know...I can really believe I dropped the ball on the reality for this story. Oh well, made up for it with the bath though, right?