-=O=-***-=O=-

She intended to go straight home. She'd called the hospital to check on Webster and was told there was no change. But, as with Clooney's wife, she had to check for herself.

She strode down the corridor toward ICU, dreading every step. Hating the scent, the sound, the feel of the hospital. When the nurse on duty demanded if she was family, she didn't hesitate. She lied.

And moments later found herself in the narrow cubicle, made smaller by the bed and machines, looking down on Webster's white face.

"Well, this is just dandy, isn't it? Didn't I tell you this was going to piss me off? You know how bad it makes me look for you to be lying here, taking the easy way? Damn it, Webster."

She broke down and laid a hand over his. Cold, she thought. His was too cold. "You think I have time for this? I'm up to my ears in work, and instead of lending a hand, you're just stretched out hiding in a coma. You'd better get up off your ass."

She leaned down, spoke clear and strong into his face. "You hear me, you bastard? You'd better get up off your ass, because I've had too many cops die on my watch just lately. I'm not letting you add to the number. And if you think I'll put a posy on your grave and shed a tear, you are wrong, pal. I'll spit on it."

She squeezed his hand, waited for a response that didn't come. "Jerk," she muttered, with more affection than she'd realized she had for him.

She turned away, came to a skidding halt when she saw Roarke at the door. A thousand thoughts jumbled into her head, and not a single one of them came through clearly.

"I thought you might drop by here."

"I was just..." Her hands found her pockets on the end of a shrug.

"Trying to help a friend," he finished and crossed to her. He laid his hands on her shoulders, touched his lips to her forehead. The gesture was very gentle, very supportive, and very married. "Do you think I begrudge that?"

"I guess not. It's a ... the situation is a little weird, that's all."

"Do you want to stay with him awhile longer?"

"No. I said what I came to say." But she glanced back. "When he comes out of this, I'm going to kick his ass just for the hell of it."

"I'll hold your coat." Roarke slipped an arm around her. "Let's go home, Lieutenant. We have a busy day tomorrow."

Eve Dallas - Judgment In Death
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