Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I sat in the driver's seat calmly, "How are you doing back there, Jack?"
His voice was muffled and I reached over, sliding the glass separating us, so I could hear him. He frowned at having to repeat himself, "I'm bleeding out of a major artery. How do you think I'm doing?"
I sighed, "You'll be fine, Morrison. Just don't pull the knife out."
There was a pause, then a grunt, "I pulled the knife out."
"Jack!" I stomped on the gas, now in much more of a hurry to get him medical attention.
In a few hours, I was sitting next to him. He was on a hospital bed, arms crossed and his handsome features contorted in a frown. He sat back, looking like a child that had their toy taken away. Below the thin blanket, his pants were gone, and his thigh was tightly wrapped in bandages, where he'd been stabbed. I sighed, standing up, "I told you to stop showing up at active scenes, Jack."
"I know..."
"You never know what's gonna happen out there... People are dangerous." I looked to him with raised brows, "Someone could've gotten hurt."
"I got hurt."
I rolled my eyes, pouring him a glass of water, "You know what I mean..." I looked at him over my shoulder, with my hand in the freezers ice tray, "How many cubes?"
"Three."
I put them in his cup and handed it to him. I watched as he tilted his head back, finishing the water, then crunching a single cube between his teeth and eating it. He glanced at me, "You know, if I wasn't there, you might have gotten stabbed instead."
I frowned, patting my hip, "I have a gun, and eight years of combat training under my belt, Jack. You know I'm capable." I narrowed my eyes at him, "What were you really doing there...?"
"Nothing."
"Really? You were just out, what, buying French perfume and Italian diamonds?"
"Maybe."
I sat down, leaning forward, and putting a hand on his knuckles. His eyes carefully watched my fingers. I cleared my throat and he looked at me. "Jack, I know you're still upset about what happened, but you have to let it go, alright?"
"But what if I hadn't been there? You could've died."
He wasn't talking about what just happened. A few months ago, I used my off-time to hunt down the leader of a gigantic drug cartel. Jack followed me without my knowledge. I got shot, and if he weren't there when he was, I definitely would have died. I interlaced our fingers gently, and noticed his grip on his glass tighten, his jaw clenching. I kissed the back of his hand gently, "I'm tough, Jack. You know that."
"Yeah... I know..."
"Look, next time, I'm gonna have to arrest you for interfering with police work, got it?"
"I just want you to be safe."
"Safe is boring." I smiled a little, "Plus, if I wanted something safe, I'd have become a teacher or something. I knew what I signed up for when joining the force."
He kept silent, and looked to his leg, then me, "You think this'll leave a scar?"
I blinked a few times, caught off guard by the swift change of subject, "I-uh... I guess."
"Hm."
He had a confused look on his face and I smiled a little, "What is it?"
He looked to me, "How long do you think they'll keep me here?"
"You have to stay until the wound shuts. If you stand up or stretch your leg, it might re-open." I stood up, patting his shoulder, "You're gonna be here for at least a week or two, pal. You know what that means..."
He gave me a warning glance.
I tousled his hair, "I'm off to finally get some work done."
He grabbed my wrist, keeping me from walking away. He had a desperate look in his eyes, "Can... Could you bring it here... and work on it here...? You still have a few case profiles to fill out... You could do them with me..."
I smiled at him, "Why? You gonna miss me?"
"Yes."
I chuckled, brushing his hair back and kissing his forehead, then his lips, "Fine. I'm stopping by the station to get everything. Should be back in half an hour." I got to the door, smiling coyly, "Don't run off."
