“Oh! No, I know about that,” she said. “I’ll be very, very careful. And then you’re going to rest, and I’m going to see what needs doing around your place, that can’t wait a few days, like any tidying up you want done, and stuff like that.”
“Cal…”
“Please, Nick,” she told him, setting the grocery bag down and turning to face him. “Honey, let me do this. I…I need to do this for you. You…I dunno if you really know how I feel about you, but…but it scared me bad, today, when Corporal Peterson called me in to her office to tell me you’d been shot…”
Nick gazed down into the troubled blue eyes for long moments. Finally he nodded.
“Okay, Cal,” he said. “I understand. And…I love you, too.”
“Oh, Nick!” she cried, and flung her arms around his neck. “I love you so much!”
Dinner was late, because the kiss went on for a long time.
Cally prepared a delicious, healthful meal for “her Nick.” The first course was another fresh salad, with strawberries, bleu cheese, candied pecans, and a rich balsamic vinaigrette. The second course was a creamy tomato bisque. The entrée was chicken tarragon with pan-roasted root vegetables, and a key lime tart – just one, to share – was dessert.
“You’re spoiling me,” Nick decided, when she offered him the last bite of the tart on her own fork.
“That’s kind of the idea,” Cally said with a dimpling grin. “You need it, right now.” She stood. “Now, you go lie down on the couch, or in your recliner, or wherever you unwind in the evening, while I clean up my kitchen mess. Take a nap if you can. I’ll look around and see what needs cleaning or straightening, and take care of that for you while you rest. I don’t want you doing a whole lotta strenuous stuff tonight.”
“Cal, I’ll be fine.”
“I know. But you’ll be fine faster if you go along with me.”
He sighed, and headed for the recliner.
Nick woke up an hour and a half later. He was wrapped in a cozy throw blanket – one which he had not had before – and felt relaxed and comfortable. He eased into a seated position and opened bleary eyes, to find the apartment immaculate and Cally sitting nearby on the end of the sofa, watching a VR show on his screen, but apparently listening through her VR network, because there was no sound.
“Umph,” he murmured, stretching. “Ow.”
Cally immediately turned to him.
“Well hey,” she said with a smile. “Stiff?”
“Yeah, some,” he admitted. “My chest muscles on my right side aren’t gonna be happy with me for a while, I guess.”
“Nope. You’re gonna behave as far as the gym is concerned, aren’t you?”
“Oh. Yeah, you’re right. The ER doc said I needed to keep my pulse and blood pressure relatively low, and…yeah, shit.”
Nick sighed, and Cally slid off the couch to kneel beside his chair.
“It’s okay, Nick,” she murmured. “It’s only an inconvenience. You could have been killed.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just used to being independent.”
“I get it. And that’s good. But we can still be a team, you and me, while you be independent.”
“Can we?”
“Yeah, we can. ‘Cause I’m independent too, and you know that.”
He looked down at her earnest, lovely face for long moments, thinking. She’s right, I think, he considered. We’re both independent, and we can function independently just fine, but we also make a great team…in all kinds of ways. The work, and personal stuff. And I meant it when I said I loved her. She’s an investigator, and I’m an investigator. Maybe this is right. Maybe I finally found Her. It suddenly hit him that he hadn’t thought about Tabby in a very long time. And that’s a good thing in itself, he decided.
“Okay, honey,” he said then. “I think you’re right. We’ll give it a shot, anyway.”
“All right!” The dimpled smile was back. “Does that make us a couple-couple?”
“I think it does.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, now let’s see about peeling you out of your shirt and body armor, so I can take a look at this bruise, and maybe help it heal faster. Then it’s time for your meds, and you should probably crash early tonight. I’ll help you into bed, then let myself out, and go home.”
Nick pondered for a minute, studying her.
“You…can stay, if you want to.”
“Huh?”
“You can spend the night, if you want to. I dunno that I’m gonna be very active, but…”
Cally cocked her head to one side, looking at him, for a long moment.
“Not tonight, I think,” she decided. “Or, if I do, I’ll spend it out here, on the couch, so I can look after you.”
“But…”
“Nick, honey, look. This is the first time I’ve ever even been to your apartment. And I’m honored, and it’s been a wonderful night, especially when you told me you loved me! But for one, you really are banged up, here.” She ran a feather-light hand across his chest. “And for another: you finally told me about Tabby, after we’d been out a few times. I’m glad you did; it made a whole lot of things about your behavior around me make sense. And I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable at first.”
“It’s okay, Cal. We talked about this, way back when.”
“I know. But what it means is, you’ve been hurt, your trust betrayed, and I’m not gonna push anything. I want you to keep trusting me, and maybe one of these days, when we’re both ready, things’ll happen. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now lemme help you get this shirt an’ junk off,” she said, reaching for the buttons on his shirt; he had discarded coat and tie almost as soon as he’d gotten in the door.
Five minutes later, Cally was hissing in sympathy, and Nick had discovered just how stiff he really was; he seriously doubted he could have stripped to the waist without her help.
And the bruise had only expanded in extent.
“We should have iced this, this afternoon,” she fussed. “No wonder you’re stiff, sweetheart! And the damn shooter didn’t miss your heart by much. That coulda been bad, even with the armor.”
“Yeah,” Nick said, studying the display of colors across his right breast. “Damn, there’s colors here I didn’t know living human bodies could even make.”
“No shit,” Cally agreed, getting up and going to the kitchen. Within moments she was back with an ice pack. “Here, let’s get this iced down for a bit, then I’ll see about applying that cream junk I mentioned.”
“Uhn,” he grunted, as she eased the special frozen pad onto his chest. “Damn, that’s cold.”
“That’s the idea,” she chuckled. “It’ll contract the blood vessels and stop the hemorrhage, which is all a bruise really is, after all. Does it have enough of a cloth cover that it’s not sticking to the skin?”
“Yeah, that’s okay. It’s just cold, dammit.”
“Try to relax into it. It should start to feel good in a minute.”
Nick did as she asked, and after a little, it did start to ease the pain in his pummeled rib cage.
“Better?” she asked, and he realized his face had relaxed.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Just lean back, while I go fish the tub of cream out of my stuff.”
Fifteen minutes later, Nick leaned back in the recliner as warm, gentle hands lightly rubbed a soothing cream into his chest.
“Huh,” he grunted.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. That feels…really good.”
“Making it feel better?”
“Yup. And my nanites are reporting that it’s good, too.”
“Great, then.”
“Cally?”
“Mm?”
“Do you have anybody else who can walk you home from here? I mean, a guy friend, somebody from the division, or something…”
“Not really, no. My family is on the other side of the continent, you kn
ow. I guess I need to introduce you to ‘em eventually. But if one of the guys from the division is available, I might get him to escort me home, I guess. Why?”
“You didn’t work anything out with ‘em first?”
“Nah. I figured I’d just head home.”
Nick shook his head.
“No. I’m not comfortable with you doing that. Not after what happened today. If they saw you with me this evening, if they have someone watching my place, they could go after you to get to me.”
“I can take care of myself, Nick. I’ve had the same training you have.”
“I know. But…look, Cal,” he said, earnest. “You’ve been trying to take care of me tonight, and I’ve let you…”
“Yeah. So?”
“Let me reciprocate. If you won’t stay in the bedroom, at least let me fix you up in here, on the couch or in the recliner, here, after I go to bed. Or hell, I’ll give you the bedroom and I’ll stay here.”
“I’m not the one who got shot today, sweetie.”
“I know. But Mom raised me to know how to treat you, hon.”
“Oh. Okay. I get it now,” she said. Cally leaned back and studied his face while she put the lid on the tub of cream. “And you’re still damn stiff…”
“Yeah,” he sighed, then added without thinking, “and I’ll probably be worse in the morning.”
“All right,” she decided. “Nurse Cally stays, and goes in with you in the morning. I can change into one of my spare outfits in my locker, that I keep handy in case of perp interaction.”
“Um, just so you know, I normally sleep in the nude, but I got some loungewear I’ll dig out tonight. And if you want a t-shirt, I’ll be happy to loan you one.”
“That’ll work. Spare blankets? Pillows?”
“I got a few, yeah.”
“Deal.”
Half an hour later, Nick was in a pair of lounge pants and a tee, and tucked lovingly into bed.
Meanwhile, Cally, using one of his tees as a sleep-shirt, was bedding down on the couch.
“Good night, Nick,” he heard her soft call from his den.
“Good night, Cal,” he responded in kind.
Then he turned out the lights in VR and they got some sleep.
The next morning was a little slow getting up to speed, but eventually Nick managed it.
Cally had the sense and thoughtfulness to help him out of bed, then into the bathroom, where she got the shower running and the temperature nicely warm, then she helped him out of the t-shirt he wore and left him to remove the lounge pants – which he simply shoved down as far as was comfortable, then kicked out of them, leaving them lying on the tile floor for the time being.
By the time he finished with a nice hot shower, he was feeling a bit more mobile. Toweling off, he headed into the bedroom, to find his girlfriend had laid out shorts and trousers for him, but no shirt, shoes, or socks. Which makes sense, he realized. I’m gonna need help with those today, even loosened up.
So he donned the shorts and slacks, and meandered barefoot through the den into the kitchen.
Cally stood in his tee, cooking breakfast. Her long legs extended below the shirt’s hem, and the neckline had slid off one shoulder.
Oh dear Lord, he thought, trying not to drool. I think I want to see that every morning for the rest of my life.
“Scrambled eggs and bacon do for breakfast?” she asked, throwing a grin over her shoulder.
“Sounds good,” he agreed. “But you look even better.”
“Aw.” Even her neck flushed.
She turned and dished up the food, then brought it to his dining table.
“Let’s eat,” she said. “Then I’ll get dressed in what I wore yesterday, help you get dressed, and we’ll head in to work.”
“The guys may tease us, when you show up in the same clothes.”
“Not when they see how you can hardly move,” she retorted, and he chuckled.
Sure enough, several smirks appeared on faces when the pair appeared together, Ames clad in the same slightly rumpled clothing she’d worn the day before. But they disappeared when she helped Ashton ease stiffly into his desk chair. He grunted when he finally hit bottom, and leaned back.
“Got it?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “Listen, I hope you’re not too stiff from sleepin’ on a couch last night.”
“Nah, the couch was comfortable,” she said. “I’m good. And we got the bruise goop back on you before you put on your shirt today, so that’ll help even more.”
“Yeah. Feels better already.”
“Good. Then I’m gonna run to the locker room and shower and change, so I’ll be back before the morning status briefing.”
“Go,” he told her. “I’m sure not going anywhere.”
She headed out.
Jones eased over to Ashton’s desk in her wake.
“Good nurse, in addition to good cop, huh?”
“Yeah. Good girlfriend, too.”
“Oh really? It’s official, then? You two are seeing each other?”
“We’ve been seeing each other, but yeah, it’s official.”
“She got a ring now?”
“Not yet, no.”
“Okay, man. Just so ya know, I’m happy for you two. We all are.”
“Thanks.” Ashton grinned, and Jones grinned back.
“And the Sandman case has been handed over to the prosecutors,” Peterson told the Team, when all of the reports had been filed, later that morning. “Oh, and Lana Rounder died this morning.”
The group sighed collectively, faces falling.
“I don’t see that as going well for Ellis,” Peterson continued, “though in some respects, I can almost see why she did what she did. I’d have had a lot less problems if she’d gone after the actual board members, though. Some of those guys...shit.”
“I hear you,” Ashton agreed, subdued. “I almost – almost – feel bad we caught her. Still, she was going after innocents, not the actual crooked politicos, like you said.” He shrugged, then winced at the movement. “Besides, it sounds like, on this case at least, they did the only thing there was to do.”
“And it is not our business to interpret the law, in any event,” Demetrius said, his tone soft. “Only to enforce it, to the best of our abilities, as honest officers of the law, when the law is just.”
“And in this instance, it certainly is,” Gorski averred.
“And the Sandman – or woman – is in custody, and will kill no more,” Demetrius proclaimed.
It took some few weeks for Nick’s chest to heal; a bone bruise was generally considered only about one step removed from a break, so it took nearly as long to heal as if it had broken. During that time, Cally insisted on helping him take care of himself and his apartment…which meant she walked home with him most evenings after shift. More, the Team considerately took turns escorting the pair to and from their respective apartments as needed. Sometimes she spent the night on his couch, and sometimes she headed on home – with escort – after seeing him settled for the night.
“It isn’t that you can’t take care of yourself,” Rassmussen told her one day. “It’s that…well, you’re gonna be preoccupied with Nick’s healing, and maybe not as alert as you might otherwise be. Plus, if they bring several of their goons, you’re outnumbered.”
“Yeah,” Jones agreed. “And Nick…well, you’re special to him, Cally. For Nick, that says a lot. This is as much for him as for you.”
Cally was deeply touched, and agreed to let them escort her when needed.
By the time Nick was getting some mobility back in his upper body and the stiffness had eased, he’d made room in his closet and dresser for her to keep some of her things at his place. This negated the inconvenience of her having to get ready for work at the headquarters gym, or go home late each night to prepare her own things.
It also made their relationship even closer.
Especially after she woke up on the couch with a decidedly un
pleasant neck kink.
“Enough’s enough,” he declared. “The bed is a damn queen. There’s plenty of room for both of us, even if we decide we’re not ready to go there yet. And once we are ready, then it’s already a thing.”
Cally considered the matter, and finally agreed. The next night, she climbed into the other side of the big bed.
They both slept like the dead, and woke rested – more than usual, since each had been subconsciously aware of the other nearby.
And Peterson and Gorski, after a private discussion, decided to keep Ashton inside the headquarters precinct until they felt he was healed enough to risk another encounter.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t on a case that Ashton had his next encounter.
Ashton and Cally were headed over to her apartment together after work, with plans for Cally to make another of her gourmet French meals for Nick.
“But I think I wanna get something different for the wine,” she told him. “And my usual shop doesn’t carry what I want. So I want to try a new liquor store, about a block off the route home, in the next arcade over. Is that okay?”
“I guess so,” Nick decided. “I don’t see a reason why not, really.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
Cally found the wine she wanted to serve with dinner, and the pair exited the liquor store, turned right…
…And nearly ran into Stanley Gorecki.
“Well, well, look who we got here,” Gorecki sneered. “Looks like Ashton finally got himself another girlfriend. Hey, cutie-pie. Don’t worry, you’ll have a real man for a boyfriend, here, in about five minutes.”
“I’m afraid you have a case of mistaken identity,” Cally said, setting down her package and taking a half-step forward. Nick caught her arm, but she shook it off.
“I don’t think so, sugar,” Gorecki said, taking a step toward Nick as he smacked one fist into the other palm. “I know Dominick Ashton, and that’s Dominick Ashton.”
“I wasn’t talking about him. You obviously don’t recognize a bodyguard when you see one. Back up, please.”
“Ha! You? You’re just a little thing. I can–”
EMPIRE: Imperial Police Page 15