Nick glanced over at the sleeping woman in the passenger side seat of his Denali. Placing the SUV in park and then turning the ignition off, he reached over and gently brushed a piece of hair out of her face and behind her ear. "God, you're so beautiful," he whispered, though he knew she hadn't heard him.
He got out of the Denali and walked to the passenger side, making sure that the copy of Sara's apartment key she'd given him was still firmly in his pocket. He pulled it out, and kept it in the palm of his hand. Satisfied, he slowly opened the passenger side door, careful not to jar her or make any unnecessary noises which might cause her to wake up. He opened the door fully and leaned over her, carefully removing the safety belt. He held the strap until it had fully wound back in its plastic casing. Then, he placed an arm under her legs and an arm around the back of her shoulders, easing her into his arms and out of the vehicle.
Once out of the vehicle, she nuzzled herself into his arms, her head lolling to the side, resting against his chest. "Mmm," she murmured, still sleeping.
He smiled slightly before using his leg to kick the door shut. He made sure that the keyless remote locked the Denali up.
"Mr. Stokes," Anita greeted him. She had lived next to Sara for almost the entire time since she'd moved to Vegas, but only a couple of months back, Sara had left her apartment for a slightly larger one on the main floor that had a view of the garden and pool.
"Hello, Ma'am," he nodded, his twang making her smile up at him with a large toothy grin.
"Poor dear looks exhausted," she commented.
"She is," he agreed. "Not feeling so good, either. Our boss sent her home early, and I drove her. She fell asleep and I just don't have the heart to wake her up."
"Let me get the front door," she said, walking back towards the entrance and keyed in the pass code for the residents. The building didn't have a doorman, but that didn't mean that just anyone could come and go as they pleased. There was a security system in place, and the building had always been safe because of it.
"Thank you," Nick smiled politely as the elderly woman held the door open and he gratefully stepped through the threshold. He turned around and cocked his head to the side. "It's Thursday night, aren't you late?" He winked.
The woman blushed and smiled just a little wider. It was always nice when a young person actually listened the mindless babble of an elderly citizen. "Yes, I'm meeting the ladies from my church at the Mandalay Bay tonight. We're going to play the penny slots and maybe take in a show or two," she giggled at the thought of watching young men prance around in next to no clothing. "I may be old, but I still have a pulse!" she smiled even wider.
"You have a wonderful evening," Nick smiled warmly, then added, "don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
She chuckled again and then declared, "I won't. And you take care of her. She's a precious girl, you know."
"That I do," his voice was decidedly soft. She smiled softly at him once more before offering a small wave and turning back towards the parking lot. He offered a small nod of his head since his hands were otherwise occupied.
Nick struggled with the key once he made his way to her apartment door.
"Nick?" Sara questioned groggily as she slowly opened her eyes, taking a moment to become accustomed to the bright hall lights.
"Sorry, I didn't want to wake you," he said softly. He felt her shifting in his arms and took that as his cue to set her on her feet.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you," she steadied herself by clasping her hands around Nick's arms.
"You OK?"
"Yeah," she nodded her head. Truth was, she wanted to soothe her achy muscles in a hot shower and then collapse on the bed and not wake up until whatever was making her feel gross was out of her system.
Now that his hands were free, he inserted the key and unlocked the door, pushing it open for Sara to enter.
"Thanks for bringing me home, Nicky," she yawned, removing the jacket she was wearing and hanging it up on the hook near the front door.
"Why don't you go change? I'm going to make you some soup," he stated.
"No, Nick, you have to get back to work," she told him. "Besides, I want to jump in the shower."
"Alright, then you jump in the shower, and when you're done, soup will be ready." He knew that she was going to protest, so he gently took her by her arm and lead her through the master bedroom and into the master bath. "Crawl into bed once your done and I'll bring your dinner to you." And with that, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze and then left the bathroom, leaving no room for argument.
Ten minutes later, Sara slowly made her way out into the open living area.
"I thought I told you to go straight to bed? I distinctly remember saying that I'd bring your dinner to you," he admonished quietly, not even bothering to turn around.
"You did."
"Problems following directions, Sidle?" he teased. This time he turned around and saw what she was wearing. Nothing sexy about it, but it turned him on. Light blue cotton draw string track pants, and a white tank top. Her clean wet hair had been thrown up in a messy knot at the top of her head.
"Yeah, that must be it," she smirked back at him. The smirk dropped from her face and she started to cough. "Damn," she muttered after her short, but sudden, bout ended.
"Sore throat?"
"A little," she nodded. "It just started. I think I'm going to grab some cough drops."
"Uh uh uh," he shook his head no and pointed back towards the bedroom door. "You get into bed."
"Nick, I just want -"
"I've already got them," he picked up the cough drops from the tray table that was resting on the counter, proving that he'd anticipated the need for the candies. "And, I found your tylenol," he held up the bottle. "The soup is almost ready. I'll be in in a minute, so you go get comfortable."
A warm feeling took over her as she watched Nick work in her kitchen, wanting nothing more to take care of her. Although she was capable of taking care of herself, it meant the world to her that Nick wanted to do it.
Sighing in mock annoyance, she turned on her heels and headed back into the bedroom, preparing for Nick to serve her.
"I don't think I can eat anymore," she pouted, dropping the spoon back into the bowl.
Nick sighed, but understood. Sara had been saying as much for the last five minutes and all but had to spoon feed her to keep her eating. She'd at least eaten half the bowl, and a few of the dry crackers that he'd put on the tray.
She leaned back against the pillows and felt her eyelids growing heavier. "Not that I haven't appreciated this, Nick, but,"
"I know," he smiled at her lightly. "You want me to go back to work."
She nodded slightly, her eyelids drooping. "Besides, I'm going to pass out in a minute or two, so what kind of company would I be?"
"The best," he smiled at her, standing up from his perch on the side of the mattress. He leaned over and removed the tray from her lap and placed it on the bedside table. He leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of her head as she snuggled down into the sheets and comforter.
"Sorry, you're still running a fever," he pointed out as he removed the comforter from over top of her body. He gently squished it down at the foot her bed, but straightened out the sheet set so that she was covered in a thin layer.
"As soon as I hear that front door close," she yawned, her eyes closing, "I'm . . . pulling . . . it . . . back . . . over . . . me," she spoke quietly.
"Yeah, uh huh," he smirked. He waited for a response, but when he didn't get one, he realized that she had just drifted off. "Dreams of Gold," he whisperd once again leaning down and kissing her, only this time, it was the tip of her nose. He stood up straight and made sure to leave the bottled water and cough drops beside her bed on her nightside table. He double checked the trash can beside her bed, making sure it was empty - just in case she woke up sick and couldn't make it to the bathroom.
He tugged on the string of the lamp, letting darkness consume the room. He wandered out, skillfully avoiding the furniture, knowing where it was placed in the room, and barely aided by the dim light that filtered in from the kitchen.
He paused briefly to scratch the black and white cat that Sara had adopted behind it's ears. It purred softly and rolled over for a tummy rub and Nick obliged for a quick moment before focusing again on the task at hand.
He made a quick check over the apartment, making sure the stove was off, and kettle was unplugged. Windows were securely locked, as was the patio door. Finally, he made his way back to the front door, opening it slowly, making a mental note that the next time he came over, to bring some oil to quiet the squeaking noise it made when opened or closed. Turning off the lights, the apartment bathed in darkness, he let himself into the hallway of the building, securely locking the door behind him.
An hour later, at nearly 10pm, a figure crept through the apartment, making almost no noise. He headed straight for the bedroom, cloth soaked in cloriform. Standing over Sara's sleeping form, he swiftly pressed the cloth against her mouth. Her eyes shot open at the sudden force on her face, but the cloriform had done it's job -- she passed out like a rag doll.
It had happened to fast that she didn't have the chance to fight or scream.
He pulled the slim digital camera out of his jacket pocket and snapped a few photos, smirking. No one would ever catch him. Not ever.
He picked up her limp body and craddled her in his arms much the same that Nick had done, but not nearly as gently or as lovingly. He stepped through the dark apartment. He grabbed the jacket she'd hung up near the front door only hours before, then dropped a small object on the kitchen counter before stepping out through the patio door and into the night . . . .
