Chapter 11 The Lair

Alex sighed tiredly and stared at his torn flesh, still clutching the bloodied gauze in one hand. The skin over his well muscled back and shoulders was darkly bruised, raised and inflamed from Percy's whip. Studying his profile she cupped the nozzle of the bottle and sprayed his back with antibacterial solution, thankful for his sake that he was still out. She glanced up at the second IV Roan had left for him, now almost drained after nearly a day and a half.

With a tired she touched the back of his head gently, her heart going out to him. They'd laid him on his stomach to keep any pressure off his wounds, and it occurred to her that she had no idea how he usually slept, stomach, side or back. Listening to the slow rhythm of his breathing she smiled, hoping someday to find out, if they were even given the chance.

"What do I really know about you?" she whispered to him, gently stroking his hair. It was growing out from his upscale cut Amanda had ordered, gradually returning to its natural color. She remembered the strength of his arms and the power of his kisses, her eyes filling with tears. Swiping at her eyes, she tensed at the sound of footsteps in the stairwell and turned her head.

Nikita entered the room, her eyes shooting from her to Birkhoff as she stopped abruptly. Something twisted in her expression before she rushed to his side.

"Dear God," she gasped, staring down at his back before reaching out to gently touch his arm. She looked up, obviously upset. "Percy did this to him."

She nodded, her eyes filling again. "I'm sorry…I didn't know where else to bring him."

Nikita leaned over him, gently touching his brow. "Of course you should bring him here," she insisted, shaking her head. "He's burning up…who stitched him?"

"Roan," she half laughed, holding Nikita's puzzled smile. "Can you imagine?"

"That is a stretch," she admitted, glancing up at the drip. "IV's almost out—you have another one?"

"That's the last one, but Roan gave me oral meds for him," she said, staring back down at Birkhoff's face. "He's so pale…"

"I wonder what happened to make Percy fly off the handle like this?"

Alex shrugged. "Roan said it was some kind of lesson."

"I'd like to teach him a lesson," she vowed, glancing around. "You bring any of his things?"

"Yeah, two bags—one that Birkhoff insisted we bring."

Nikita raised her brows, a tiny smile playing around her lips as she glanced back at him. "Wonder what's in there?"

"I don't think we should look, not until he's awake," she insisted, reaching for the dozen packages of gauze pads she needed to apply. "By the way, welcome back—wanna help me finish?"

"Sure," Nikita breathed, taking one of the gauze packs and ripping it open. "You use an antibiotic?"

"Yeah," she nodded, tears flooding her eyes as she gently laid the gauze square on the worst spot. "I can't seem to control myself, looking at his back."

"That's because you love him," Nikita said soberly, glancing up at her. "And because you're exhausted—I've got a roll away we can set up next to him, and I'll sleep in the recliner."

"I didn't even look around," Alex admitted. "I was afraid to leave him."

Nikita placed another pad over his shoulder. "He'll be ok, you'll see. He's tougher than either of us thinks. Look—there's the scar from the time he was shout through the shoulder and he survived that."

Alex peered at it closely. "Another thing I didn't notice," she sighed.

Nikita smiled as she worked. "You'll have plenty of time to explore him when's he's better—with is permission of course."

Alex paused, finally catching Nikita's meeting. "Let's hope that's soon then," she teased back.

Nikita's eyes twinkled mischievously. "He's got a nice build, you've got to admit."

"You're gonna make me jealous," Alex warned, smiling as her eyes ran appreciatively down the masculine curve of his back to the place where the sheet rode low across his hips.

"Roan help you undress him?"

"Yeah, why?"

Nikita looked up. "Another thing you can do when he wakes up."

Alex flung a wad of wrapped gauze at her, making her duck to miss being hit. Just then Birkhoff moaned softly and turned his head on the pillow. Alex placed her hand on the back of his head, gently stroking his hair as she leaned close.

"Hey…you waking up finally?"

He sighed and lifted his hand, dropping it back onto the mattress. She could see his eyelids flutter before he settled back into the painkiller-induced haze. She looked up as Nikita bent her head next to his.

"What's this—Birkhoff crashing at my place again?" she breathed gently, laying a hand on his arm. "I thought we were finished planning on how to take down Division."

When he didn't answer she got up and checked the IV, tapping the bag. "Where's the new one?"

Alex nodded toward the table. "Over there." Then she bent over him and kissed his temple. I think he's going back to sleep."

"Well if he gets delirious we'll have to tie his wrists."

Alex glanced at her in horror. "No way! Percy had him tied up like that when he whipped him—"

"Look if he starts thrashing around he'll tear open those stitches," she warned, eyeing the bag and waiting to change it. "Trust me, it'll be for his own good, but we'll take turns watching him. You look exhausted so I'll go first after we finish up."

"Ok," she agreed, unrolling the gauze over his back, tucking her hand beneath his armpit and rising to slide it beneath his chest. He groaned softly so Nikita bent to help after she replaced the IV. By the time they finished he was out again.

Nikita stood straight, hands on her hips. "I'll get more supplies after you've rested. Now go wash up."

Gently draping the sheet over his back she stood and stretched. "Do you have anything for fever?"

"Of course—Roan didn't leave you anything?"

She shook her head. "Not for that—he said he's only good for emergencies."

Nikita shook her head. "Who would have thought a cleaner would actually treat someone?"

"He's actually very nice," Alex smiled. "He said he's retiring soon, but that he'll check up on Birkhoff in a day or two."

"Retiring?" Nikita gasped. "A cleaner—retiring?"

"That's what he said, though I doubt anyone else knows."

"Well that's one less problem for us…maybe with half of Division jumping ship it'll finally sink on its own."

Alex eyed her suspiciously. "What about Michael?"

Nikita turned away, making Alex suspect she was hiding something. "Michael's his own man," she sighed, turning to glance down at their patient. "But my guess is that with Birkhoff gone, he'll leave just from boredom."

Alex laughed, gazing back down at Birkhoff. "Yeah, nothing's the same without him, is it?"

"It certainly isn't," she sighed, patting Alex's cheek before bending to kiss the top of his head. "Welcome home, nerd."

Three days later Alex awoke slowly, opening her eyes to early dawn just before the sun rose. She stretched lazily, nuzzling the pillow with her cheek as she shook off a sound sleep. Glancing up at the lavender and pink streaked sky she tensed, feeling as if she was being watched. As her eyes swept the room she noted Nikita's deserted recliner and saw that her coat was gone. Then her gaze drifted toward their patient and she froze in shock. His eyes were open, clear and alert as they held her prisoner. Their intense scrutiny burned into her heart as she slowly lifted her head, staring back. Then he smiled lazily, the tip of his tongue peeking out to moisten his dry lips.

"You're awake," he said in a husky voice that wasn't its usual strength. He shifted his head, lifting it a bit more to hold her gaze.

She smiled. "So are you…finally."

His left brow lifted. "I just drifted off…" he said thickly, stretching his leg beneath the thin blanket and sheet.

"You did not," she teased back, pulling herself to a sitting position and watching his eyes brush down her tank top appreciatively before locking with her gaze again. "You've been in and out of consciousness for almost four days."

"Is that so?" he half yawned, lifting his head before wincing and flattening himself back. He shook hand out, drawing her attention to his bound wrist. "Wanna let me loose please?"

She gasped in surprise and scrambled to the edge of her cot, reaching down and unbuckling the leather leash. "Nikita must have done that—I'm sorry! I begged her not to—"

"Hey," he sighed, catching her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip. His eyes lit with desire as he tugged gently on it. "It's alright—come here."

She caught his hand between hers and perched on the edge of his bed, leaning down to gently kiss his cheek. He narrowed his gaze upon her face, turning his head more away from the pillow. "How about the other one?" he whispered, making her realize she'd forgotten his other wrist.

She got up and reached over him, managing to unfasten the other. He slowly pulled his arm up, gasping as he did so.

"Damn!" he hissed, pushing up on his elbow as she wound her arm around him.

"You really shouldn't be trying to sit up," she warned but he did his best. With her help and tucking the pillows behind his neck he managed to half sit up, shoving a smaller pillow beneath his lower back. Somehow he managed to lay without putting much pressure on his injuries, and grinned up at her as he caught his breath.

"That's better," he sighed, eyeing her appreciatively. "The view is better this way."

She blushed and sat down again, careful not to disturb him. He shifted his legs, tugging the sheet over his stomach while avoiding her eyes. She thought his modesty was touching, but when he gazed back up at her the look in his eyes took her breath away. "Daniel—"

"You look so beautiful when you first wake up," he whispered, catching her hand. She stared at him, her emotions flooding her with a heady mix of contrasts. Blinking against her tears, she smiled down at him.

"I'm glad you're better," she said softly, leaning close and touching his scraggly beard as she kissed him gently, breathing in his scent before she straightened.

"With a nurse like you I'd have to be," he sighed, thumb gently stroking her hand. "Thanks for coming to my rescue, milady."

She nodded, wiping at her eyes as she smiled. "My pleasure, milord."

He studied her face a moment, closing his eyes in frustration. "If only my back wasn't ripped up…"

"What?" she whispered, resting her head next to his on the pillow. "What would you do?"

He slid his hand to rest it over her pajama- clad knee. "Either embarrass myself further, or ravish you," he choked with a soft laugh.

"You are feeling better!" she teased, kissing his whiskers but wanting to lick them instead. "You don't know how happy that makes me—"

He turned his head and cut off her words, capturing her lips in slow and delicious kiss. She sighed against his lips, stroking her fingertips down his throat. "I was so scared…" she whispered to him, shifting closer against his side.

Capturing her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it, his eyes darkening in passion. "You're torturing me, Alex," he whispered, smiling gently to soften his words. "I'm not a well man…"

She smiled and nibbled his lower lip. "You're recovering faster than you think," she said softly, running her fingers over his jaw and delighting in his response.

"You'd better get up before I lose my mind," he whispered, tracing a finger down her throat as she shivered with pleasure, "not to mention other parts….somebody's coming."

She froze, listening as she held his gaze. He smiled a wan smile as they heard Nikita's voice.

"I'm here!" she called out, her steps echoing up the stairs.

Alex jumped up, trying to disengage her fingers from his grip as he finally let go, pulling the blanket higher over himself.

"Everybody decent?" Nikita panted as she stepped out into view. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. "Nerd—you're awake!"

He grinned weakly. "I am, even at this ungodly hour."

She surged toward them, setting down a large paper shopping bag before smiling at Alex and bending toward him. He reached up to touch her arm as she kissed his cheek in a sisterly fashion, straightened and eyed him critically. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," he moaned, glancing up at his IV. "You haven't been feeding me well enough."

She shrugged. "That's the last of it. I'm afraid you'll have to choke down pills from now on, unless you want me to crush them up in applesauce for you?"

"That would be nice," he moaned, smiling stiffly as he adjusted the pillow beneath him. "Unsweetened applesauce, please."

She eyed Alex, who laughed as she shook her head and went to inspect the bag. "I think what he really needs is coffee."

"I have a brewer right here," she stated, eyeing Birkhoff. "You still like Columbian?"

"Columbian coffee," he teased, opening one eye at her. "Actually I'm kind of starving…"

"Sorry, Roan said all you can have is dry toast the first few meals," Alex sighed.

He opened the other eye, his brow furrowing. "Dry toast? You've got to be kidding! The last thing I had was some popcorn with the engine—"

They eyed him as his words trailed off and he fell silent, his mood changing abruptly.

"You heard the lady," Nikita stated, nodding to Alex as she started toward the kitchen area. "Dry toast and coffee coming right up."

"He seemed like a great guy," Alex said softly, emptying the bag and flattening it out before sitting at the foot of his bed.

He opened his eyes and studied her a moment. "Yeah, he was."

They read each other's minds, listening distractedly to Nikita's preparations. Then she squeezed his calf beneath the covers and got up to assess the gauze supplies Nikita had replenished.

"Don't worry," she reassured him, eyeing him with concern. "You'll be up and out of here in no time."

He sighed, closing his eyes again. "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of…"

Roan glanced back at Percy's penthouse suite from a distance, smiling wanly. He's spent the last 10 years slaving for that monster, committing crimes he'd never imagined he'd have to do while in civilian service. If he hadn't had a better plan he'd almost want to return to active duty and would have, if his age wasn't a factor. It was honest work by comparison, and sure beat shadowing the old order of Division.

"I could be a mortician, an EMT or mercenary," he sighed, finally turning away from the specter of the burning floor of the high rise. "But for now I think I'll just be a PI and find Giselle," he sighed, hearing the final explosion go off and smiling in relief.

Walking toward his Cooper, he opened the door and climbed in. It was amazing that such a small vehicle accommodated his long legs, and as he drove off he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Just one more stop to check on my friend Seymour," he said, turning up the classical music station on the radio. "He'll be glad to hear how I finally got Percy, once and for all."

Driving toward Nikita's section of town, he felt the weight of the past decade lift from him, freeing him once and for all. He'd thought long and hard about this day, having planned it for months except for the part involving Birkhoff, Alex and Nikita. Everything had gone according to play, and helping them would only take another hour of his time and help heal his guilty conscience. If Amanda was right Michael would be stepping in too, which would leave her to take her the helm and her rightful place under Oversight. She would manage the business well, and treat the recruits better than any other generation of them. The three men who they'd decided were still loyal to Percy had been shanghaied off to different parts of the Third World as planned. Now she was free to choose her own staff. He'd promised to keep in touch with her but as per their agreement he'd return only to help in the most crucial tasks until his retirement plans were finally complete.

The morning program was highlighted by soft harpsichord music with a background of chirping and twittering birds, a perfect accompaniment to the newly risen sun. He glanced in his rear view mirror and smiled at the cloud of smoke rising from Percy's condominium.

He took the exit ramp which would lead him to Nikita's lair, trusting that his patient was recovering well enough by now. Alex hadn't contacted him except to thank him again for rescuing Birkhoff. He thought they were a good match, and the way Birkhoff had treated them on their last field op had done a lot to earn him his respect. As he circled the block and confirmed that the way was clear, he pulled into the parking garage and found a spot, climbing out with his medical bag for his last patient check, at least for a while. After this he'd be on his way, and was looking forward to the beginning of his road trip. The sun streamed through the glass all around him and he breathed in the fresh morning air.

"A new day has truly dawned," he sighed with a smile, gripping his bag in one hand.

c. 2011 by Christine Levitt