In Death 06 - Vengeance in Death

long-suffering MT. "Bumps and stuff. Boy, did I fly. Let me tell you, the up part can be pretty cool, but those landings suck space waste. Wham!" To demonstrate she attempted to slam her fist on her knee, missed and caught the medic in the crotch. "Oops, sorry," she said when he folded. "Hey, Peabody, how's my vehicle?"
    "It's a dead loss."
    "Damn. Well, good night." She wrapped her arms around Roarke, nestled into him, and sighed.
    The MT sucked his breath back then got shakily to his feet. "That's the best I can do for her here. She's all yours."
    "Indeed she is. Come on, darling, let's go."
    "Did you save me some pizza? I don't want you carrying me, okay? It's embarrassing. I can walk fine."
    "Of course you can," he assured her and hefted her into his arms.
    "See, told you." Her head dropped on his shoulder like lead. "Mmm. You smell good." She sniffed at his throat like a puppy. "Isn't he pretty?" she said to no one in particular. "He's all mine, too. All mine. Are we going home?"
    "Mmm-hmm." There was no need to mention the detour he intended to take to the nearest hospital.
    "I need Peabody to stay for... I need her to stay for something. Yeah, for follow-up, get those bomb guys to spill it, Peabody."
    "Don't worry about it, Dallas. We'll have a full report for you in the morning."
    "Tonight. 'S only the shank of the evening."
    "Tomorrow," Roarke murmured, shifting his gaze from Peabody to McNab. "I want to know everything there is to know."
    "You'll have it," McNab promised. He waited until Roarke carried Eve through the crowd, then turned to study the car. "If she'd been inside when it went up..."
    "She wasn't," Peabody snapped. "Let's get to work."
    Eve woke to silence. She had a vague recollection of being poked and prodded, and of swearing at someone -- at several someones -- during a physical examination. So her waking thought was panic, laced with fury.
    No way were they keeping her in the damn hospital another five minutes.
    She shot up in bed, and her head did one long, giddy reel. But it was relief that settled over her when she realized she was in her own bed.
    "Going somewhere?" Roarke rose from the sitting area where he'd been keeping one eye on the scrolling stock reports on the monitor and one eye on his sleeping wife.
    She didn't lay back. That was a matter of pride. "Maybe. You took me to the hospital."
    "It's a little tradition of mine. Whenever my wife's been in an explosion, I like to make a quick trip to the hospital." He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes keen on her face, and held up three fingers. "How many do you see?"
    She remembered more now -- being awakened half a dozen times through the night and seeing his face looming over her while he asked that same question. "How many times are you going to ask me that?"
    "It's become a habit now. It'll take me a while to break it. How many?"
    "Thirty-six." She smiled thinly when he simply continued to stare. "Okay, three. Now get your fingers out of my face. I'm still mad at you."
    "Now I'm devastated." When she started to shift he laid a hand on her shoulder. "Stay."
    "What do I look like, a cocker spaniel?"
    "Actually, there's a resemblance around the eyes." He kept his hand firmly in place. "Eve, you're staying in bed through the morning."
    "I am not -- "
    "Think of it this way. I can make you." He reached out, caught her chin in his hand. "Then you'd be humiliated. You really hate that. Think how much easier it would be on your pride and ego if you decided to stay in bed a couple more hours."
    They were fairly well matched physically, and Eve figured they were about even in takedowns. But there was a look in his eyes that warned he'd make good on his threat. And she wasn't feeling quite her best.
    "Maybe I wouldn't mind staying in bed a couple hours, if I had some coffee."
    The hand on her shoulder slid up to her cheek. "Maybe I'll get you some." He leaned forward to kiss her lightly, then found himself holding her tight against him, burying his face in her hair, rocking as every thought and fear he'd held back during the night flooded free. "Oh God."
    The emotions that poured out of him in those two words swamped her. "I'm all right. Don't worry. I'm all right."
    He thought he'd dealt with it, thought that through the long night he'd conquered this sick, shaky sensation in his gut. But it shot back now, overwhelmingly strong. His only defense was to hold her. Just hold.
    "The explosion came through Peabody's communicator -- loud and