For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.

Here's a couple things you might need to know or maybe you just forgot: Casey misses his normal laundry time due to a mission. Ellie finds him much later, bruised and battered, and, even though he won't answer her questions, does what she does best: takes care of him, as much as he'll let her.

Out in the Wash

Another Sunday, another laundry day. Casey walked into the laundromat at the apartment, setting his hamper on the ground as he normally did, smiling to himself as Downy made a beeline for it. The calico had managed to make a spot in his heart as she normally did in his basket. "You have to let me get some of them out first, cat," he told her.

Downy, however, was oblivious, pawing her way into resting in one of his black shirts.

"Easy on those," he said, carefully picking her up before removing his mission clothes and putting them in the washer.

She watched curiously as Casey dropped what she'd been looking forward to curling up in inside drum of the washer. She even reached out a paw, as if to catch it as it fell.

He scratched the top of her head before placing her back on top of his Buy More uniforms. "Go to town," he told her. As he busied himself with the process of measuring the soap, the door opened and Ellie wandered in, with only one hamper this week. "Hey."

"Hi," she returned, smiling at him, as she crossed towards the machine next to his.

He couldn't help but notice, in addition to the detergent and fabric softener that rested in the top of her hamper, there was also a bag of cat treats. He smirked.

She set the treats aside, making quick work of loading the remaining two machines. Once they began filling with water, she looked up at Casey, who was watching as Downy sniffed about in his hamper, finding her spot of the week.

He felt her eyes on him but he didn't turn. He knew it wasn't a casual glance, nor was it another instance of her checking him out. He figured that had been a one-time thing. He knew that, even if her last name was Woodcomb, she was still a Bartowski at heart and there were dozens of questions she wanted answers to. If she was anything like her brother at all, he knew that they'd come eventually. There was no point in encouraging her since it was inevitable.

Except, they didn't come. With a sigh, Ellie grabbed the bag of treats and made her way towards the chair nearest his hamper and Downy. "Hey, sweetie," she murmured, opening the bag and selecting one. "How 'bout it, huh?" she asked, holding it out to the cat.

Downy, who'd just gotten comfortable, looked curiously at the nibble in Ellie's outstretched hand. Getting back to her feet, the kitten ambled forward, sniffing at it first.

"There's my girl," Ellie said with a soft sigh. "Go ahead."

Eagerly, Downy accepted the treat, chewing as she returned to the spot she'd vacated.

"In addition to pet hair, I'm going to have kibble crumbs in my clothes."

"It'll come out in the wash," Ellie said, refastening the bag and tossing it in her laundry basket.

Casey chanced a glance at Ellie, noting well that her eyes didn't hold the usual warmth or softness. He didn't like that. Taking a slow breath, he eased to sit down beside her. For several more moments, he just watched Downy. The cat was content to lay there, creating more silence. More silence he found himself surprisingly unable to take. "I can't tell you everything," Casey began slowly.

"I don't want to know everything. I want to know what you did last weekend where you came home looking like you'd gone a round with Tyson."

"There was a fight," he began, looking at his hands, at the subtle scars that were still on his knuckles.

"You don't strike me as the kind of guy that would get into a random bar brawl."

He glanced over at her, seeing the curiousness now in her eyes. "I'm not."

"Then...?"

"I was protecting someone," he said simply.

She was quiet for a moment before she decided to go fishing. "She's a lucky girl."

He scoffed, greatly amused. "It wasn't a girl."

Her eyes widened and her eyebrows drifted up her forehead. She hadn't considered that possibility at all. "W-well, then," she began, sputtering only a little, "he's a very lucky guy..."

He sat up a little straighter, aghast at her implication. "No, Ellie... No, not... it wasn't anything like that. At all."

"Oh, I..."

"It was your brother."

Her brow furrowed. "Chuck?"

"He got in a little over his head on..." He cleared his throat, reminding himself that it was definitely not the mission where Chuck had gotten into trouble. "On his date with Sarah. Your brother means well, but he can be a little... talkative. And a little annoying sometimes."

"So you defended him? You got all..." She reached out, guiding his chin slightly to the left, so she could see the remnants of what had been a great knot under his right eye. The redness was gone as was the swelling, but there was a slight, barely noticeable bruise left behind. Her fingertips were oh-so-light against the yellowing mass.

His breath caught in his throat at her touch.

"For... for Chuck?" she whispered, trying to remember where her train of thought was going because, clearly, it had just derailed.

It was interesting to him, this circular pattern to the whole thing. He'd taken the brunt of the physical beating for Chuck. Chuck's sister had helped get him back on the road to recovery afterward. He would've shrugged, except he was afraid any movement might've broken whatever spell they found themselves under. The air between them was charged, different. He didn't want her to look away, he didn't want her to pull back from him. He would never admit it aloud, but he liked the closeness of her. He felt drawn to her. He finally managed a quiet, affirmative grunt.

Ellie let her fingers drift down his cheek, feeling the rough stubble on her way down to his tightening jaw. She could sense his strength, his power. She had a feeling there was still so much more to John Casey, so much lying just below his gruff exterior, beneath the unassuming Buy More green.

She gasped, shocked, when her cell phone began to ring. "Excuse me," she breathed, getting to her feet and pulling the phone from the pocket of her jeans. She recognized the number from the hospital and had a dread feeling she was going to be moving directly to her car. Clearing her throat, she answered it. "This is Dr. Woodcomb..."

Casey exhaled slowly, looking at Downy who had grown tired of his hamper and was wandering around the laundry room, jumping up on one of the empty dryers before finding her way to the table and Ellie's hamper. He wondered if she knew that was where Ellie had tossed her treats.

"Of course, I'll be right there..." She hung up, closing her eyes and counting quietly to three before turning to face Casey. She replaced the phone in her pocket, running her fingers through her long hair. "That was Westside," she said. "Emergency, all hands on deck kind of a thing..."

"Go," Casey told her.

She started to point towards the washers.

Casey stood. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

She nodded slowly. "Thank you."

"It's what neighbors, what... friends... do, right?"

"Yeah," she murmured.

Stay tuned...