Christin Solomon

Chapter 32-Hospitals and Christin Don't Mix

A/N: Thanks for the awesome reviews! Very much appreciated! Hope you like this chapter! Please read the bottom Author's Note, it is REALLY IMPORTANT.

James's POV

Christin was running her fingers through the hair on the back of my neck. It felt good and calmed me. Her words rang through my head when she made the call to the CIA Director. "I have a big shard of glass sticking out of my leg to prove it." Who would do this? Though none of us said it, we all knew Christin had been the target. But she was alive and that was keeping me going. She was sitting behind me in a SUV, silently telling me everything was going to be alright, putting on a calm, patient face just so everyone around her would feel better. Christin's little brothers and their girl friends had gone back to Gallagher, but Mr. Solomon had taken a couple of weeks off so we could go on a vacation to France. The only reason I was here was because Christin threatened not to go if I would not be joining them. Now I could here sirens in the distance, everyone looked relieved, except Christin. I could practically feel the atmosphere around her tense and become alert. Christin and hospitals don't go together; it's like saying rain and sunshine are best friends. She hasn't had the best experiences so you can't blame her.

"It's going to be alright little sis," Shane encouraged gently. But I knew she wouldn't relax, because she's Christin. Chris made an effort to distract her, but yet she didn't speak, only focused on what was to come. Three ambulance trucks screeched to a halt in front of the SUV. Mr. Solomon grunted as he got out to meet the paramedics. They spoke in hasty French, but I was too tired to read their lips. The men immediately came to my door. I opened the door and stepped out; pulling back the seat so Christin, Shawn, and Shane could get out. Shane carried Christin out even though she griped about it the whole way, and set her on a stretcher.

"That is a bad leg wound," One of them informed her. I could nearly hear her internal growl as she glared at them as if too say, "You think?" I stepped forward and held her hand, squeezing it lightly. She squeezed back and put on her crooked smile. Her father stepped to her other side and grasped her hand.

"Whoever did this to you will pay," He promised as the paramedics began to roll her stretcher toward the ambulance. A sudden light came into her eyes, and she looked like her dad, wanting revenge as strongly as she wanted the sun to rise, yearning for the challenge that would put all her spy skills to the test, just to have her sweet reward of victory when it was all said and done. That was my amazing Christin, ready to face the day with a grenade in hand.

"We will make them pay daddy, we," We climbed in the ambulance, and that's when the needle came out. Christin's dark eyes pin pointed the needle and her arm muscles tensed and rolled without relaxing afterward.

"This will ease the pain and help fight infection," The paramedic explained and went to poke it into her arm but stopped.

"Ease the pain and help fight infection my butt," She said in challenging French. The man sighed and put the shot down. But Christin didn't make a move to relax and show that she trusted the man who was trying to help. All of us knew these people were CIA doctors, but that didn't change the way Christin saw them.

"You're as stubborn as your mother," Solomon said, trying to distract his daughter. She rolled her eyes like the teenager she was.

"I thought I got it from you, Stubborn Solomon," She replied sarcastically. He chuckled and stroked her hair lightly before placing his hand back in hers.

"I was trying to be nice about it," He defended and now we all laughed. Christin smiled at her father with a look in her eyes that could never be copied. It was a look of love from a daughter to her father, something special between them that could never be broken. Something I had long since forgotten had existed.

"You're going to need surgery," The paramedic said to break the silence. All three of us looked at him and now Mr. Solomon was on Christin's side.

"If you so much as make a stitch crooked, all heck will break loose, am I understood?" He asked quietly. The paramedic shifted uncomfortably and glanced down at the charts before looking at Christin's dad again.

"Yes sir,"

"That's what I like to hear," He winked at Christin and she smiled mischievously. We came to the hospital and Christin was rolled to an OR (Operation Room).

"Is she going to be alright?" Mrs. Solomon ran toward us and hugged Joe tightly. He nodded and we went to the waiting room to well, wait. A nurse brought in a few bowls of water with soap and a towel. That's when it hit me that we had a lot of dried blood.

"A few nurses will be in to treat your minor injuries when you have cleaned up," She explained before leaving. We washed ourselves off as best as we could before the nurses came in. I got lucky and didn't need stitches. Chris did on his arm and Shane had some on his forehead. But Christin had been the worse off. The adults went to get coffee, Christin's older brothers had gone to get some sodas, and Chris went to the restroom. I lounged in a chair and wondered how the surgery was going. Weren't doctors supposed to check in periodically to tell you? That's when the brown haired, green eyes girl walked in, and took out a gun, heading straight for the OR. I ran, taking a different route, and put myself in the middle of the hall right when she stepped in. I was standing in between her and the surgery rooms.

"Get out of my way," Her French was shaky, she obviously wasn't thinking straight. I didn't budge.

"No, why are you here?" I demanded easily, crossing my arms over my chest casually. The only gun I had thought to bring today was strapped on my lower back. Hers was dangling in her hand in front of her. There was no way I was going to draw mine before she would shoot.

"To kill of course, that is why I brought a gun," She laughed dangerously, "I'm searching for Mirabelle-" She cut herself off as I felt a familiar hand grasp mine. Christin had to be right behind me.

"Who are you?" My girlfriend asked. Her other hand had slid under my shirt and I felt her grasp the gun.

"Danikka Marlo, the girl whose life you ruined," She explained.

"I think you're going to have to be more specific," Christin replied sarcastically. She pressed her lips on the left side of my neck, which meant she would be shooting on the right. The girl glared and held the gun higher, pointed at us. I was in between Christin and the bullet, and that was all that mattered.

"Remember the chateau that you burnt down, remember the girl that tried to stop you," Christin squeezed my hand and I squeezed back. The girl kept speaking but I was no longer listening.

"I love you, forever and always," Christin whispered in my ear and I felt choked.

"I love you too, forever and always," That made Danikka let her guard down when she tried to listen and Christin drew, and shot. The girl hit the floor. I spun around and hugged her as tightly as possible. We kissed again and again before Christin's family came running up. Suddenly she turned to me and wrapped her arms around my neck, lowering my head so she could whisper without anyone else hearing.

"Me and hospitals don't mix,"

A/N: I think this was a really good chapter. Sadly, I'm thinking about ending this story. It has reached many milestones and received many reviews and for that I am grateful. But no story can go on forever unfortunately. If you would like, offer an idea to end this story, and I promise to give you credit if I select it. I'm planning on doing a one-shot sequel that takes place five or ten years in the future. Peace out and please review.