A/N: Hello all. This chapter is a bit shorter than I had intended, but it really just serves as a transition from Sandor and Sansa's current to future relationship, so it didn't really need to be longer. Anyway, here it is. The chapter title means 'heal' in Hawaiian. Thank you to my followers and favoriters and thank you to morpheus-king-of-dreams and soubifan700 for reviewing.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to George R. R. Martin and Her Interactive. Except for Samuel Collins; he is mine.
"Sansa, wake up." The command was issued in the gentle lilting accent of Shae Tanaka, a Japanese immigrant and fellow Pearl Harbor nurse. The addition of a forceful nudge was what finally managed to rouse the pretty red-headed nurse.
"I'm up," she mumbled, sitting up on the edge of her berth and rubbing at her eyes with balled fists. Myranda swept by and deposited her nurse's uniform on her lap.
"Good. Since you had yesterday off you've got a busy day today. And a new patient. Some soldier whose plane crashed during the attack; finally wandered out of the jungle and made it to the hospital. He's got some nasty burns, but Gilly bandaged him up and put him in your section, at his request, so you'll have to figure that mess out."
Sansa nodded and quickly combed out her hair before getting dressed. She wasn't aware of any planes that had remained MIA after the initial few days following the attack, but the story seemed plausible and Myranda had no reason to lie so she mentally planned her treatment of the mystery soldier as she walked out into the main room of the hospital.
She began on the far side as she often did, partly to avoid Sam for the moment, and spent her morning making small talk with the soldiers in her care.
"Good morning, Seaman Mahiʻai. How's your leg feeling?"
The Hawaiian sailor smiled at her and shrugged. "No better, but not any worse either."
Sansa nodded and carefully removed the bandage around the splint that was keeping his fractured knee in place until he could be moved to surgery. Though it didn't look infected, it seemed swollen, and Mahi'ai's pained expression was proof enough of that.
"We'll continue your antibiotics until you're taken to surgery," she said, making the appropriate notes on the clipboard that hung from his berth. "That should help take down the swelling and will continue to keep it from getting infected. If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to ask."
He nodded and then let her continue onto her next patient, the mystery soldier according to her patient list.
He was lying very still on his berth when she arrived and she cast him a cursory glance before looking at the initial notes that Gilly had jotted down.
"If you haven't already heard, we're going to put you on an antibiotic to prevent infection, and I'll go get you some morphine in a just a minute if you need any for the pain. Are you experiencing any pain, sir?"
Her question was met with a low chuckle. "I think I would need something a bit stronger than morphine if these burns still hurt after all this time, manu li'ili'i."
Sansa's head snapped up and she looked at her patient in disbelief. She knew that voice. And those eyes, which were currently regarding her with uncontained amusement.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she hissed, pulling up a chair and sitting down beside him to detract attention from their interaction.
"You took my clothes," he said matter-of-factly. "And I'd like them back."
At that, Sansa blushed slightly and she leaned in before replying hotly, "Well, you stole my..." her blush deepened. "...underwear." She had to slap him on the arm to stop his laughter before it alerted the entire medical staff. When she had redressed the night before after discovering Sandor on the beach, she had been too focused on their impending adventure to pay much attention to what she was wearing, or, more precisely, what she wasn't. It wasn't until she returned to the hospital that she realized her panties had been missing from the beach where she had left them. It wasn't too difficult to figure out where they had gone after that.
"A fair trade, I think," he responded, grinning widely at her obvious embarrassment and then adding, "I didn't know you could afford lace on a nurse's salary."
Sansa knew that her face had to be an unparalleled shade of red and she shielded it from the rest of the hospital with a hand to her temple. "They were a gift," she snapped. "Not that that's any of your business. And besides, I only took your clothes so that I could patch them before they completely fell apart. So you should be thanking me, not humiliating me."
He shrugged slightly and then glossed over her reasoning. "A gift? From who?"
Sansa rolled her eyes. "My sister, if you must know. She told me that if I was determined to join the war effort, I might as well have a little fun while I was here."
His eyes narrowed slightly. "And have you? 'Had fun'?"
She squinted back at him and sniffed haughtily. "I don't see why that's any of your concern."
"So no."
She floundered for a moment, then sighed and gave up, crossing her arms. "You're wasting valuable resources you know." She nodded toward the bandages that covered all of his face except for his eyes and lips. He shrugged again.
"I wanted to see you. And apologize for my quick exit last night. I just...wasn't expecting what you did."
Sansa looked down at her lap. She hadn't been expecting what she had done either. And yet, she had still done it. And didn't yet regret it.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, demurely, still avoiding his gaze.
He waved aside the apology and then sighed heavily. "Well, as much as I'd like to, I can't take all your time." His eyes roamed the room and then narrowed slightly. "Where's the young blond that you belong to?"
At that, Sansa met his gaze again, a slight frown marring her usually pretty features. "His name is Samuel Collins. And besides, I don't belong to him." The thought of exclusively dating Sam made her blush slightly, a change that Sandor didn't fail to notice.
Snorting, he crossed his arms and readjusted himself in the bed he had claimed. "Well, you should probably go see him anyway. He's been staring at you all morning." Sansa turned her head to find that the statement was true, and she hastily looked away from Sam's hurt expression.
"Fine." She put the clipboard for his treatment back down and aimed a warning finger in his direction. "But don't you get into any trouble while I'm gone."
She ignored the "no promises" that he tossed at her retreating form and she continued her morning rounds without further delay, assuring each wounded soldier that he would receive the best care possible and that he would recover in no time and be able to serve again in the still raging war. When she finally reached Sam, she was exhausted and she plopped down in the chair beside his bed before looking up to meet his eyes.
"Good morning, Sam."
He smiled a bit tersely. "Good morning."
At his expression, she sighed. "I wanted to apologize for last night. I was so relieved to have a day to myself that I completely lost track of time. I promise that I had every intention to meet you at sunset. I just...I'm so sorry."
His smile grew at her sincere apology and he shrugged. "It's alright. As long as you didn't mean to stand me up. That helps my pride a bit." Sansa laughed and he continued. "So are we on for tonight or do you want to wait a few days until things here have slowed down a bit?"
The prospect of not having to fake her feelings for a few days was a pleasant one. "A few days would be great. Things here are just so busy, and I don't think I'd truly be able to give you my full attention tonight. Too much on my mind."
Sam nodded in understanding and reached out to take her hand. "As long as you promise me that I'll have all of you when I do finally get to have you."
Sansa hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether there was a second meaning behind his words, but deeming a vow to be safe, she nodded. "I promise."
Smiling, he squeezed her hand and then reached out to take her chin between his fingers as he moved his mouth to hers. His lips were soft and they lingered for a moment before releasing her as she blushed and looked away. Her eyes traveled toward Sandor's bed of their own accord and her heart skipped a beat when she found it empty.
Scrambling to her feet, she looked around frantically then met Sam's puzzled gaze and stammered a hasty apology. "I'm sorry, I—I have to go."
She rushed to the other side of the hospital and caught Gilly before she disappeared into the nurses' quarters. "Gilly, have you seen the man that came in this morning? The one with the burns?"
The younger woman frowned and shook her head. "Not since he first showed up. Why? Is everything okay, Sansa?"
She was too busy running to the exit to respond and when she burst out onto the harbor, she saw a tall dark figure walking swiftly toward the jungle. Without hesitation, she ran after him. "Sandor!"
He turned at the sound of his name and stood waiting with his arms crossed while she caught up to him. His expression was hostile when she finally reached his side. "You lied to me." His eyes narrowed and he added coldly, "I hate liars."
Sansa looked at him in confusion. "Lied? What are you talking about?"
His eyes were angry when he met her gaze again and when he spoke, his voice was a high-pitched mocking imitation of her own. "His name is Samuel Collins. And besides, I don't belong to him..." He snorted. "Well, from the way he kissed you, I'd say he at least owns your lips!"
Sansa stared at him in disbelief and frustration. "Why should you care how any other man kisses me? What are you? Jealous?" As he continued to glare at her, her anger grew and in a fit of rage to rival his own, she closed the gap between them and kissed him hard on the lips. "There! Is that you wanted?" She poked a finger against his chest. "No part of me belongs to any man, Sandor Clegane, and I intend to keep it that way."
With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving him to stare after the petite nurse in both admiration and complete and utter confusion.