[oom] Room Number 4

[justcallmefee]

The house in the Bahamas is still lacking in a few things, so she'd come back to make a pick up.  She's ticking off a list in her head when she sees him in the hallway, wandering like he's looking for something.  His knuckles are bloody, his eye half swollen shut, and he has one hand curled around his mid section, holding broken ribs no doubt.  He's got a bottle of tequila in one hand, but it's still mostly full. 

She can't just let it be.  She can never just let it be.

She stops in the middle of the hall, weight cocked on one hip, her honey dark voice a playful drawl.

"Hey gorgeous."

Comments

[latino_menace]

He stops and turns his head towards her slightly, trying to make her out clearly through the injured eye.

Oh. Her again.

'What do you want?'

[justcallmefee]

Surly as ever, but for some reason, it makes her smile. She drops into Spanish without even thinking.

"You look like you had fun."

She closes the distance between them, hips swaying, walking right up into his personal space. She hisses in sympathy, one hand touching his cheek as she peers at the ugly wound.

"Jealous husband finally catch up with you, hmm?"

[latino_menace]

He straightens as well as he's able, glaring at her suggestion that any jealous husband could do this to him. And he also speaks in Spanish because his English isn't all that great yet.

'I'm a fighter. It's not a sport for the weak.'

She might be able to see the impact point under his eye that's making it swell; if she knows about such things, she might surmise that he got smacked with a knuckleduster. It would also explain the ribs.

Yeah, he lost this one good.

[justcallmefee]

Her eyes narrow for the briefest second. She does see the tell-tale, evenly spaced slices under his eye. She can guess the rest. (It reminds her of cheering on her brothers on a Saturday nights in the basement of the pub, trying to keep her beer from spilling while the bare knuckle brawl raged around her.)

She'll keep speaking Spanish around him. It feels right.

"You need a stitch in that. And tape for those ribs. Come on. I'll fix you up."

She turns and walks back towards her room.

[latino_menace]

He contemplates, briefly, telling her to go to hell. He doesn't need help (she thought he was looking for something; it was his room because he can't remember the way just now) and he's been worse than this in the past.

On the other hand, she's taking him to her room. That means sex. To him, anyway.

So he follows, drinking from his bottle and trying to stay as upright as he can.

[justcallmefee]

She hears him suck air through his teeth and almost turns back. She wants to put his arm over her shoulder, let him lean on her, but that's the wrong answer. (Too close, too vulnerable, too soft.). So she settles for slowing down and biting her lip.

She does wait for him at the outer door, before the short bridge that leads to her room.

"Watch your step," she says, looking him over again. Jesusmaryjoseph, it really is him.

[latino_menace]

'Yeah, yeah,' he mutters, not wanting a mother hen.

He looks at the bridge and considers how she gets a place like this. Since refusing to set foot back in room 19, Bar has given him something like a box with a bed in and not much else. Definitely not the impression of his wealth he wants to convey to any visitors he has.

'Bribe the bar, did you?'

He'll try that.

[justcallmefee]

"No, actually," she say, bumping the blue door with her hip to dislodge it from the frame. "This is a replica of a flat I had in Cairo. Have a seat. You want a beer?"

She drifts off to the wardrobe, opening it up and fishing out her suture kit. She drops it on the bed and heads for the kitchen.

[latino_menace]

'No.'

He sits down, still holding his bottle, and gives the place a perfunctory once over. His eyes fall on a man's shirt and jeans, draped over the back of a chair.

'They mine?'

[justcallmefee]

She comes back with a glass of water and a bowl with a clean, wet rag in it, setting both on the table. "You mean the clothes? Yes."

She also sets a couple of fat white tablets next to him with a look. "Those are for the pain. I know. You don't need it, but those ribs make it hard to breathe. And they'll heal faster if you're not wincing every time they complain."

She wrings out the cloth, and gestures for him to sit forward so she can clean the wound on his brow.

[latino_menace]

He stares at them - the clothes (JesusMaryJoseph, it really is him) - and it takes a minute to follow her gesture and lean forward. He does eventually, slowly, laying his elbows on his knees and easing into position carefully.

The painkillers are ignored, as is her tone because he feels too beat to tell her to stop fussing but he's not going to admit that either.

'Did you tell him I thought he was a fat bastard?'

He'd quite like to know what his older self's reaction was, if she did.

[justcallmefee]

Her lips curl in a smirk, reading the shifting lines of his body like a compass. When she speaks, her voice is that same low dark drawl he heard from her the first time they met.

"What do you think?"

She dabs at the wound, swiping away the crusted blood, her touch not especially gentle. It takes her a few moments but she gets it cleaned up enough and she leans in to look at it. (She knows this wound. The tiny pale silver mark hidden in his dark brow. She's kissed this scar.)

She hums under her breath as she works, her touch professional and her movements economical. She's done this a few times.

[latino_menace]

'I think you probably didn't have the guts in case you pissed me off.'

OK, that sounded weird.

'Him.'

[justcallmefee]

She pauses and pulls back to look into his face, one eyebrow raised.

"You think I'm afraid of pissing you off? You think he'd do anything but laugh?"

She scoffs under her breath, still holding his chin as she reaches for the suture kit.

"Hold still. I don't want to mess your pretty face up any more than it already is." She opens the pack with her teeth and fiddles with it, pulling out a tiny curved needle already threaded with plain white silk.

[latino_menace]

'Me. Him. If you're with him, I assume you'd want to keep him sweet.'

And if she's not the type to want to keep him sweet, he's not sure what he'd be doing with her in the first place. He holds still though, not showing the least bit sign of trepidation at the thought of a stitch without anesthetic.

[justcallmefee]

It takes just a minute to stitch it closed, and her hand is steady as she ties the knot.

"I... Respect him. I don't need to 'keep him sweet'. He's just fine the way he is. There."

She cuts the silks close to the skin, and touches it up with a bit of antibiotic cream.

"Can you lift your arms?"

[latino_menace]

He ignores the question and eases himself upright, letting his hands rest loosely on his thighs so that no downward pressure is put on his side.

'Why are you doing this?'

[justcallmefee]

She reassembles the suture kit, wraps the needle in the paper and tosses it in the bin under the table. He can see her pulse hammering at her throat as she works, even though her hands are steady. She's rummaging through the aid kit and pulling out the tape.

"If you want me to tape those ribs, you have to take that shirt off. If you can't lift your arms, I can cut it off. You can borrow one of his." She falters, not looking back at him. "Yours."

[latino_menace]

'What's mine is mine,' he smirks, looking her up and down laciviously.

Oh yeah. If that's his, he wants it. He couldn't care less about getting his ribs taped but it'll get her hands on his body and give him the chance to show off his muscles. So he stands, making it look easy though his jaw tightens against another bright flash of pain and starts easing his arm out of the right sleeve so he can slip it over his head.

'You just want another look, admit it.'

[justcallmefee]

"Yeah, because black and blue hamburger turns me right on, oh yes," she drawls, shifting her weight to one hip as he strips down.

When he's done, she brusquely shifts his elbows up and out of the way.

"Does this hurt?"

Her fingers find the broken ribs unerringly.

[latino_menace]

He hisses and pulls away without meaning to, taken by surprise by the touch. And that, in turn, makes him scowl at her - not at the pain, just that she saw him react to it.

'Maybe playing nurse turns you on?'

The scowl melts to a grin and he leans back in, letting her touch him again.

'I'm sure we could find you a uniform and a lump that needs investigating.'

[justcallmefee]

Okay, that got a little bit of a grin, but she dips her chin trying to hide it.

She probes a little trying to see if there are any other ribs broken on the other side. Her hand smooths over his skin, lingering perhaps a little longer than they should.

And then she's ripping off a piece of tape and tearing it with her teeth.

"Take a deep breath for me."

[latino_menace]

He saw it and looks pleased with himself. He also doesn't miss how she touches him (even if she hadn't lingered, he'd imagine she had).

'How can I when I'm all breathless from looking at you?'

It's said sarcastically but not too much so. Mainly he's just trying to see what reactions he gets when he talks to her.

He takes the breath though.

[justcallmefee]

She catches the sarcasm, and reciprocates with her fingertips pressing the tape into place a little. Too. Firmly.

"Don't," she warns him. He doesn't know her well enough to play games with her heart.

She tears off another piece of tape and this one goes around to the back, over the broken ribs and up to his sternum. The pain should start to subside some as the movement is restricted.

There's a flush of colour in her cheeks, even though the smile has faded.

[latino_menace]

He winces imperceptibly and lets her do her thing, looking down at her the whole time, examining her face with his eyes.

When she's done taping him, he doesn't think twice, he puts his hands on her hips and pulls her in close to him.

'Don't what?'

No one ever really told Ramon it was impolite to touch without permission. And anyway, she kissed him first. It must mean she's up for it.