Message For You (invite only)

When Rowan opened his eyes again he saw Cris, and that was good. Through the fog of drugs he smiled up at his partner, a tight painful smile that was meant to reassure but he didn't feel very reassuring. With his ear to Cris's chest he could hear the gentle hum of his partner's voice even though he couldn't necessarily make any sense of the words. He closed his eyes again and lifted his bandaged hand to rest it against Cris's arm. Even that small movement had him sucking in a quick breath of pain.

The coughing was subsiding as he finally managed to get rid of the last bits of bloody 'whatever,' leaving him sore there as well, but he was surrounded by friends and safe at home and while he couldn't erase the horrifying images of what had happened just a little while ago, the environment did much to help him keep the remaining panic at bay.

Because they were making no sense to him Rowan disregarded the other voices in the room. He made a soft sound at the feel of Cris's lips against his forehead. That felt good. Comforting. If he was going to be hunted down and killed, he would prefer it to happen while hanging on to Cris.

Ugh. That thought roused him some and he squinted his eyes as he tried to bring himself to his senses a bit more. Two doses of morphine so close together, though, meant he was staying right where he was in his foggy little daze. He was all right with that, though in the back of his mind he wished he didn't smell like acrid smoke and fumes. He was filthy; there were flecks of blood drying upon his chest and all over his arms, his hair stank, and what clothing he had left was singed and useless. Petty complaints, though... the thought of how he'd have to move around to get clean damn near made him pass out again.

He tucked his face back up against Cris, tilting his head back. His mouth was close to Cris's neck and he was thirsty again... more so than before. Nuzzling into his partner's neck he flicked his tongue against Cris's skin. He breathed lightly against it, moaning softly, instinct ruling his actions but love commanding his restraint. When Cris turned his head away, exposing his neck, holding Rowan closer, Rowan took the softly murmured words to be those of assent or encouragement even though his head was still foggy. Forgetting they had company he closed his eyes and bit down, shivering a little as he felt Cris's blood flow and tasted the warmth, the richness. Now he drank more deeply than before, a little choked out cry of desperate satisfaction in his throat as he swallowed, feeling his head clear some with each delicious pulse.

He pulled away before he could cause discomfort for his partner. He gently kissed the wounds he'd made in Cris's neck and then looked up at him, surprised to find his vision blurry. He found his voice, hoarse with strain but also with emotion.

"Danke schon," he said softly, resting his head back against Cris's chest.

Aishe smiled at Kiamhaat's ready understanding. Of course, he wouldn't leave. He was he better planner of the two of them, really. She remembered being in Egypt with him, how he was the one who seemed to think of everything beforehand and have it ready when she'd hardly known what she would need. He'd probably intended to stay close before she'd even asked. She turned her soft smile to Cris, nodding along with Kem. They could sleep anywhere. They'd managed to sleep on Pak's couch, no easy feat for two people.

She watched Kem take the paper Alfarinn offered. He closed his eyes and reopened them in a moment, frowning, reaching for his second shot of rum and downing it quickly. She could feel his apprehension, his worry, but she held her tongue. He would tell her everything she asked later.

For the moment she busied herself with cleaning the mess they had made. She glanced at Rowan, saw him nestle into Cris's embrace. Her heart tugged at the sight of her Creator clutching at Rowan, his eyes closed, and then a riot of color hit her vision as her empathy, still not entirely at her command, fed her information she had not requested. It was too much to sort through; love, worry, fear, anxiety, desire, sadness, everything was mingled between them both.

She turned away, giving them a moment of privacy or as best she could do while still in the room. Gathering the tools she'd used she went to the kitchen and turned on the faucet to wash them. While it ran, she let the sound cover up the noise as she cried softly, just for a minute or two.

She was worried. And sad. And upset, on Cris and Rowan's behalf. But she didn't like to let such things show, and not in front of Cris, who had plenty to worry about. Kem knew how she felt and she would seek his comfort later. But for the moment she let herself go, feeling resolve steal into her heart. She'd do anything she could, anything at all, to keep her family safe.

Sleeping arrangements were made for the couple which involved the guest bedroom. It was comfortable. He had slept there once or twice; though, he was not the best person to ask about such things since his ability to sleep through Ragnarok was pretty legendary. However, he had no aches and pains upon waking which Alfarinn considered to be a good sign and the best recommendation he was able to give.

"I'll just take up residence here somewhere." He waved a hand around the living room. The sofa was a bit small for him but he was sure that Cris had some blankets maybe even an air mattress.

Kem used his ability to gain information from the paper and said that he would know more if he could see the other paper that Rowan had picked up prior to this one.

"I am sure its still here." Alfarinn said and turned to ask. "Where did....oh, nevermind." He hid a smile at seeing Cris with his eyes closed, holding Rowan tight. His emotions were open which was rare for Cris even among friends. Alfarinn could feel them through the bond and through his empathy. He turned back toward Kem. "We'll just wait and ask him in a sec." Pouring himself another drink, he held the bottle up to his friend. "Another?"

Rowan had become more alert again. Cris took that as a good sign. He considered it an even better sign when his partner leaned forward and nuzzled his neck. Rowan was obviously hungry; his body had used a lot of blood to begin the rapid healing process that vampires, even the non-movie versions, were known for.

Pressing his lover close, Cris turned his head away to give Rowan, both, more access and encouragement. He could not entirely help his reaction to his partner's bite. Even under these circumstances it was pleasurable. Cris also felt a great deal of relief, and a bit of gratitude, that Rowan was willing to take more from him. He wanted to help in any way that he could. The inability to divert this disaster made him ineffective at protecting the one closest to him. It was a feeling and a situation he had felt before. The last time it ended in the loss of a life and him shying away from intimate encounters that lasted more than a night or two. Cris desperately wanted to see a different outcome this time.

A small part of his brain remembered that there were other people in the room. An even smaller part cared whether his friends witnessed this normally very private moment. It was necessary. He loved Rowan. He loved the feel of Rowan's bite. Cris found himself very unapologetic for any of that. He did at least manage to keep himself from moaning out loud. There, he had some shred of modesty left within him.

When Rowan pulled away, Cris looked down at him and smiled. "Bitte sehr, Meine Liebe." He bent and placed a tender kiss on Rowan's lips. "Would you like me to take you upstairs? Perhaps a bath and then bed?" Cris would let Rowan sleep first except that he didn't want his companion to wake up to the smell of smoke. Beyond that, blood and ash were both fairly itchy and irritating dry and stuck to the skin. He could wait until Rowan had fallen asleep and then carefully sponge off his partner. Rowan was a very deep sleeper; however there would still be the smell of smoke in his hair. A bath would also be more thorough as well and Rowan would likely feel much better for it.

He then glanced up at Alfarinn. "I was distracted, not deaf." Cris said mildly, feeling the need to point out the difference lest anyone consider him totally oblivious while enjoying Rowan's attentions. "The other paper is in the safe in my office. I can authorize MARI to open it for you. It is in a purple file folder with Rowan's name on it."

Kem watched Aishe disappear into the kitchen, heard the sound of running water as she cleaned blood from the items she had used to cut Rowan's hands apart in order to heal them. He could feel her sadness through their bond and wished he could hold her now but there would be time and privacy later. Cris and Rowan needed their full attention now. He sent to her, though, because he had to. He couldn't at least let her know what he was thinking.

[I'm sorry, merit,] he sent. [I'll see what I can find out from this other note. We'll figure this out.]

[I know. I just wish we could do more.]

[Me, too.]

He let her have her privacy, too, rather than follow her into the kitchen. Instead, he turned around with Alfarinn and saw Rowan biting Cris's neck, Cris with his eyes closed in a moment of involuntary pleasure. He turned away with his friend and held his glass up, nodding in agreement to the suggestion that they wait.

"Please," he said. It had occurred to him that his friend was drinking more heavily lately, even for him. Kem had known Alfarinn for a very long time though, and he didn't think there was much he could do about that... he could, however, make sure Alfarinn didn't drink alone when he was able.

Cris's mild chastisement made Kem turn back around and flash a quick, apologetic smile at him. He lifted his shoulders unapologetically; surely Cris knew they were simply trying to give them a little privacy during that brief intimate moment. He nodded when Cris gave them instructions on the location of the first note. Carrying his glass with him he nodded to Alfarinn, jerking his chin toward the door. They may was well bring the rum.

"Let's see what we can figure out with good old fashioned triangulation," he said.

((ooc: Kem and Alfarinn temporarily out))

Rowan leaned up to Cris's soft kiss and returned it gratefully. His lover's blood had gone a long way toward rousing him. The drugs in his system were still dampening out a great deal of the pain; if he was going to get clean now was the time, before the fiery agony grew stronger again. His mind pored over the alternatives then. He could not continue on morphine indefinitely, although tonight and the rest of the day it might be wiser.

Pausing those thoughts, he looked up at Cris's concerned face and nodded at his question. "I'd like that, please," he said, his voice still slurred a bit but the words his own.

He did want to get clean, almost desperately. He couldn't stand his own stench and he knew he'd never sleep at all if he had to smell himself. Rowan would never have expected Cris to carry him anywhere, and wasn't sure if he'd drunk too deeply for Cris to be entirely steady on his feet though, so he shifted his own weight and slid from his partner's embrace, swallowing down any noises of discomfort that would have escaped him as he attempted to organize his limbs in some sort of order that would make it easier to stand with Cris's assistance.

It didn't take Aishe long to clean the tools she had used. It took her even shorter to dash away her tears and compose herself. She didn't mind if Cris knew she was upset; they all were, seeing a friend and Clanmate like this, knowing it had been done deliberately. She hoped she'd done an adequate job on his hands and regretted causing him even more pain but better her than Cris.

She came back into the living room as Kiamhaat and Alfarinn left. She saw Rowan slide slowly away from Cris, coming to rest next to him, leaning back against the sofa. His face was still pale beneath the soot and ashes and the redness of his healing burns, but he offered her a wan smile before tipping his head back and closing his eyes briefly.

Aishe crossed the room to Cris and knelt before him. She pulled her hair away from her neck and held it with one hand, tapping her neck lightly with one forefinger. "Cris, won't you drink from me?" she offered softly, hopefully.

"That way you won't have to leave at all. I can go hunt later, before the sun comes up."

She wanted Cris to accept her help; she wanted to be useful. Aishe didn't think Cris would want to leave Rowan for a moment. She barely wanted to, so she could guess how her Creator felt about it. She reached out and took Cris's hand in her own, squeezing it tightly, watching him with hopeful eyes. He had given her so much. She wanted him to know how much he meant to her, how much his happiness meant to her too. Every chance she could give something back, she would take, starting now.

Cris smiled down at Rowan and nodded agreement. He looked surprised when his partner began making motions to move away so he could stand up and climb the stairs himself. Well, he supposed there was nothing wrong with Rowan's legs. His lover was weak and high on drugs but his legs were functional. Whether his brain was functional enough to control his legs was another matter entirely.

They made it up the stairs blindingly drunk their first night together. They could sort this out also.

He turned from Rowan to look at Aishe when she knelt down next to him, moved her hair out of the way, and asked her to feed from her so that he didn't need to leave Rowan alone. It was practical and caring. Cris was touched by the offer.

"I went through a lot of trouble to get all that" He circled his finger in a vague perimeter outlining her body and implying all the blood he took from her the night she became a vampire. "back in there..." Cris smiled at his child and moved a little closer. "Thank you." He added, his expression becoming more serious. "And thank you for being here for me and Rowan."

Wrapping his arms around Aishe, he leaned down to her offered neck. Cris kissed it once, tender but chaste, before gently biting down. He sucked slowly from the wound, savoring the taste of Aishe. He found himself curious to know how the flavor of her blood had changed since the last time he had experienced it. Most of it was the same; he would have known that this vampire was the same human he had turned not so long ago even if he had nothing else to go on but the taste of her of blood. It was also different, richer, more vibrant, stronger. There was a hint of him in her blood. The part of her that made Aishe his child. There was more too. Cris looked forward to being with her several hundred years from now and seeing how different it was then. He hoped she still seemed so human, caring, optimistic and good as she did now.

Pulling away, he smiled and kissed her cheek. "You'll make sure to keep Alfarinn and Kem out of trouble while we're upstairs?" Cris stood, helped Aishe up and then turned to do the same with Rowan, albeit much more carefully. He hugged Aishe one more time and refrained from saying thank you yet again. Instead he offered her reasons for keeping the other two busy. "Troublemakers. Who knows what they are plotting." He muttered as he helped his partner to the stairs. "Probably how to turn the Towers into one big Mardi Gras festival or how to prank call everyone in Meridian at once or... God knows what else."

"Please tell Ume to stop working and to go have a good time." Cris was pretty sure that the girl was back there in his little office trying to find every scrap of information about the building that had burned. Some of it might be useful but he doubted anything more than its location and maybe its owner would be pertinent. When it was made, what kind of factory it had been in the sixties and where the brick to build it had been quarried was hardly necessary. Ume should go out if she still felt up to it.

"You're in charge until I get back. Good Luck." Cris gave her another smile over his shoulder. He and Rowan had only a few more steps to go.

Once upstairs, he took Rowan into the bathroom and helped his partner out of the rest of his clothes. He considered whether his lover would want anything to wear after they were out of the shower. On the one hand, people might be in and out of here, helping dress his hands, give him blood, talk to him about what happened, etc... He might not care to be naked. On the other hand, it would be impossible for Rowan to go pee by himself very easily with even just a pair of boxers on. His hands were virtually useless at the moment and he would likely find it troublesome and painful to have to maneuver clothing. It was a good thing that vampires rarely needed to relieve their bladders as there generally was very little in them in the first place, unless they had been indulging in food and drink. Still, it was something to consider. Of course, Rowan was hardly shy. No boxers seemed like a safe decision. Perhaps he would ask later to be sure.

After telling Rowan he would be right back, Cris took the smoky clothes down the stairs and piled them with the rest. He would dispose of them later when he was certain that the psychometrists no longer needed them.

Going to the hall closet, he pulled out a sturdy folding plastic stool and headed back upstairs, waving to Aishe as he went by. This particular piece of 'furniture' was gotten after a work related injury not that long ago, maybe a year or two before Aishe came to Nachton. He had found that it was difficult to shower yourself easily with a leg broken in several different places. That was how he ended up with folding plastic stool with the hand grips built into the side and suction cups affixed to the bottom.

His shower had a bench around the side but it would be easier for him to move around Rowan with the shower head if Rowan was sitting in the middle. It also gave them less chance to bang Rowan's hands on the side of the shower, the bar, the bench or himself while trying to maneuver them both around while keeping the bandages dry.

Placing the stool in the center, he turned the water on, waiting until it was the right temperature and then guiding his partner into the shower. He pulled the long shower head off the hook at the top and laid it on the shower floor. "I know you were hoping for a nice luxurious bath but I thought this might be quicker and easier."

Cris knelt on the tiles and moved himself in between Rowan's legs. Picking up the soap and the washcloth, he said. "Here, put your wrists on my shoulders so that you don't have to hold your arms up the whole time."

Aishe wrapped her arms around Cris's waist as he moved close and embraced her. She had never felt anything but safe in his arms, and now she was glad to be helpful as well. She smiled up at him when he thanked her, shaking her head slightly.

"Of course," she said. Then, tightening her arms around him she added, "I love you," as he gently bit into her neck.

She'd never said it to him although she didn't doubt he knew that. Still, the words never hurt to say and they were heartfelt. She did love Cris. She'd told him years ago that even if she and Kiamhaat didn't work things out she thought she'd still want what he offered. Now she knew it was entirely true; if she and Kem ever separated for any reason, she would never regret the choice that brought her here. Never be sorry Cris had turned her.

She felt the sweep of warm security his bite brought and she smiled into it, relaxing into his arms and closing her eyes happily. No one could make her feel quite so protected. It was something she would always link to Cris, this feeling of being so sheltered and safe.

As he finished drinking and helped her up, she nodded to him. "I'll keep the kids out of the cookie jar," she said with an mischievous grin. Then she added, to Rowan, "I'll see you soon."

As they made their way upstairs Aishe hovered below them, making sure they managed all right. Once they disappeared she tidied up the living room a bit; Cris was the meticulous sort. She knew he'd want to straighten up but he would be occupied with Rowan for the time being. She smiled at him when he returned downstairs for a moment, then headed out into Liefde to go deliver his messages to Ume and see if Kiamhaat and Alfarinn had discovered anything useful.

((ooc: Aishe temporarily out))

It was sweet, the way Aishe and Cris interacted. Rowan made the observation while leaning back against the couch, watching them through cracked-open eyes while he continued to mostly float. His hands were starting to burn again; unfortunately, at the rate his body burned through drugs he doubted he would get any lasting relief. Patience was his friend. He would heal.

He struggled to his feet with Cris's help, smiling at Aishe and nodding at her when she bid him farewell. Getting up the stairs wasn't difficult, just slow. His legs were working just fine; he was a little wobbly and he felt like he just wanted to sit down where he was and not continue, but Cris was at his side helping to hold him up, a solid, steady presence, and Rowan wasn't afraid to lean on him. He knew there would come a time when Cris would have to lean on him, too, and when it did he'd be here for his partner.

He suffered a brief minute or two of anxiety when Cris disappeared to go downstairs again. Ugh. Rowan wasn't used to relying on someone else for support; he'd been by himself for a very long time. It wasn't that he minded but he didn't want to burden Cris any more than he had already. He told himself to get a grip, taking a few slightly deeper breaths, careful ones, and listening for Cris's return, which was quick.

When he was seated on the useful little bench, Cris between his legs looking up at him, Rowan gave a soft, hoarse laugh, resting his wrists on Cris's shoulders as instructed.

"This is not how our shower scenes usually play out," he groaned softly, leaning forward slightly to rest his forehead against Cris's.

He had never imagined he'd find himself naked in the shower with Cris... and completely incapable of taking advantage of the situation. There could be no question of that tonight, but the thought helped distract him from the darker ones looming so close. Rowan didn't like to admit to it but he was afraid. Afraid to close his eyes, afraid of what he'd see when he slept, afraid of what would happen next.

He pulled Cris close.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry this is happening."

He couldn't make it stop but he would. He'd figure out how, and end it. He might look like a harmless doctor now but his past was dark enough and still near enough that he could become that man again if he had to. He could hunt this person down with Cris's help. Rowan pushed stress aside and tried to channel anger instead of fear; maybe that would help get him through it.

Cris smiled at Rowan's comment about the shower, feeling better for seeing his lover's humor emerging despite pain, drugs and an extremely bad experience. He frowned shortly afterward when Rowan apologized for everything that happened.

Hugging Rowan close, Cris shook his head against his partner's chest. "I too am sorry it is happening. That it happened to you." He leaned up and kissed Rowan lightly on the jaw. "But you are home now and safe."

He began using the soap and washcloth starting at Rowan's neck and working his way down. Cris was patient and thorough in his cleaning. He was very gentle where necessary.

"You better distract me with brilliant conversation." Cris looked up at Rowan and raised his eyebrows in a teasing manner. "because I might be tempted to take advantage of you in your fragile state." He had no real intention of doing anything of the sort, no matter how tempted he might be by the naked body beneath his hands.

After soaping up the front half of Rowan, he reached for the shower head and rinsed him clean. He then eased his partner's hands off his shoulders and moved around behind his lover. Cris was careful of the bruise and blisters on Rowan's back soaping the rest and rinsing it all from a distance that made the water a gentle patter and not a pounding torrent.

While he was standing behind Rowan, he tilted his partner's head back and wet his hair. Hooking the shower head onto the metal bar that ran along the glass wall, Cris picked up the shampoo and massaged it into Rowan's hair. He realized as he worked that he was very glad that Rowan didn't burn much of his face or hair. The experience had been torturous enough without a daily visual reminder of what had happened.

Even though he had wanted to make reasonably quick work of the shower, Cris took his time here. He hoped that the gentle massage and relaxing mundane activity would be soothing to his partner's frayed nerves. While he worked Cris talked about his day, nothing stressful, but the idle observations and information. He told Rowan about how his Star Wars confrontation in the cafe had become the stuff of Security legend. The consensus was that he was still Darth Bern but they were all his minions in the Meridian Empire. Apparently they were quite proud of this. Aishe was his apprentice and Rowan, well he guessed Rowan was his secret love interest. Cris asked Rowan to please tell him if they were going to be the proud parents of twins.

"You know I was thinking that this year the training sessions for my people could be done on a Star Wars theme. What do you think?" Cris bent down and kissed Rowan on the forehead. "We can make one tower the base of operations for the Rebel forces and one the dark side. Have intelligence gathering missions, ambushes, assaults and other mayhem. We have to keep it fairly low key through out most of the Towers but we can have some serious off site battles as well."

Cris rinsed Rowan's hair then helped his lover to his feet. Pulling the stool up from the base of the shower, he opened the door and set it outside and out of the way. He then finished his partner's lower body and did a final inspection, which involved a few tender kisses to various places. Once Rowan passed inspection, Cris pointed him to a bench and then made quick work of himself.

"Now, clothes or no clothes?" Cris smiled at Rowan. "You are likely to be very popular over the next few days. I am not sure how I feel about you flashing people my favorite private Rowan bits." He sighed softly. "But I suppose I can make an exception for the circumstances."

Rowan gave a soft sigh at Cris's embrace. His partner's closeness did so much to chase away his shadowy thoughts, it was difficult not to let his natural optimism shine through.

"If only I could," he murmured. "I think I must just be inadequate tonight."

He knew Cris was teasing. He also knew he should have a witty response to it, but tonight it said a great deal about his level of disorientation that he could not even engage in his favorite pass time, flirting with Cris. That upset him some; he wasn't used to being beat up enough to lose his basic personality.

Cris had more patience with Rowan than Rowan had with himself, however, and didn't seem to actually expect said brilliant conversation. Rowan closed his eyes and gratefully submitted to Cris's ministrations, unable to bite back each soft cry of discomfort even though he knew Cris was being extremely careful. There was just no way to miss all of the cuts, burns, and bruises, however diligent he was.

The only truly pleasurable part came when Cris tipped Rowan's head back and spent a little time gently rubbing his head to wash his hair. Then, Rowan's moan was one of genuine pleasure... his lover's hands felt good as they massaged. While the pains of washing over burns had roused him, now Cris's actions and gentle tenor soothed. Rowan closed his eyes. Relaxed marginally. Let the drug haze wash over him again while Cris spoke, a little voice in his head warning him not to pass out. Cris was talking and he wanted to know what his partner had to say.

He found himself smiling at the idea that Cris was apparently sticking with Darth Bern. Rowan gave a soft laugh at his role. "Love slave," he mumbled sleepily. "I like that."

Those hadn't been Cris's words, but Rowan was improvising.

At Cris's question, and the soft kiss, Rowan opened his eyes again. "Fun," he commented. "I wanna play too. Space pirate."

The whole shower couldn't have taken long; Rowan waited patiently while Cris bathed himself, watching his lover with unfeigned and undampened appreciation. Even high and out of it Rowan could still appreciate Cris's appearance even if he was incapable of acting on it.

He did rouse himself a little at the comment Cris made. "Popular?" he asked, feeling slow. "I don't think so. Why?"

He probably should know why but he couldn't grasp it at the moment. No one had seen him go into that building... wait a minute... yes, a few people had. Crap.

"Don't suppose they'd accept me slacking around in jammies?" he asked as Cris finished his own shower. Rowan's aching hands itched to help Cris as he had been helped. He was disappointed.

He was sure Cris would know what clothing to get for him though. Rowan did own a few pairs of pajamas although he rarely wore them; the pants were loose and comfortable and some of them he might be able to push down himself if a trip to the bathroom became necessary. Those with a soft tee shirt would work until his hands healed enough for him to wear something more... challenging.

When Cris moved close to him once again Rowan realized he hadn't explained to his partner what the hell he was doing in a burning building to begin with. He looked up at Cris. Now that the fear and panic and anger weren't at the fore, the only emotion he had was devastating sadness. He felt his eyes water.

"There was a little girl in there, Cris. I tried to get to her." He shook his head quickly, tears falling down onto his cheeks. "I couldn't save her."

With that admission he bowed his head and wept unashamedly; he didn't think Cris would hold it against him. Were anyone else present Rowan doubted he'd have given in to tears but Cris wouldn't think less of him for it. He knew how hard Rowan worked to help, not harm, those children under his care. Yes, occasionally he lost one, but not usually before he had a chance to even try. This one had never even had anyone on her side to fight for her.

"Pajamas it is then." Cris turned the water off and reached out for two towels. He set his on the rail and then turned to begin drying Rowan off. "There will be people coming to feed you. Talk to you about the fire." Rowan seemed to pick up on that himself; though, Cris had been talking about their people and not the police. He would make sure Rowan was not troubled until he was ready.

His lover then explained why he went into the burning building in the first place. Cris nodded; of course Rowan had risked himself for a child despite being so terribly afraid of fire. It was the only thing that made sense.

Setting the towel down on the railing, Cris wrapped his arms around Rowan and pulled him close. "You tried, Love. Against terrible conditions, you went in there and tried." He rubbed Rowan's back in long soothing strokes, taking care to miss the huge bruise across his shoulder blades. "I am sorry, Rue." Cris held his companion for a long time and then pulled away enough to being drying Rowan off. He thought that his partner had been very brave and very compassionate to go into that building to save a little girl despite his fears and despite very real harm to himself. It did not escape him that Rowan could have died in there along with the little girl. Even vampires weren't immune to a raging fire.

Cris toweled himself off and then stepped out of the shower. He took a moment to fold up the stool and set it out of the way so that neither of them tripped over it in the middle of the night. Heading to the bed room, he looked into Rowan's side of the closet.

"Any pirate pajamas?" He chuckled softly and then pulled out a plaid pair with a loose elastic band in the waist and big deep green tee shirt. Cris gathered the shirt up until it was a wide ring. He reached up and pulled that down over his companion's head and then stretched the arm holes as wide as they could go so that Rowan could slip his bandaged hands through without bumping them. He then placed the pants on the floor, pushing the fabric out of the way until he had two neat circles for Rowan to step into. After that it was a simple matter to pull them up. "I might have done this once or twice; though it is usually me with the bandages and someone else with the helping. Alfarinn has seen as much of me as you have...though I am usually so banged at the time I can't imagine I was ever very sexy so no need to worry. His own blond, thankfully, takes much better care of himself."

Moving the covers back from Rowan's side of the bed, Cris gestured. "In you go." He waited until his partner was situated and then found some pajamas for himself as well. Cris had 'working' pajamas that were suitably somber in shades of black or grey. If he needed to see any of his team while laying in a bed then at least he half way looked like what they had come to expect. The fact that he could be injured and was not invincible was jarring enough without seeing him in bright coloured pajamas with cute cartoon polar bears on them. He chose a pair of loose black micro modal pants and put those on. He set out a black silk robe to tie over them later.

Cris climbed into bed and snuggled up close to Rowan, wrapping an arm over his lover's waist. "Want me to sing to you? I can entertain you with some German lullabies if you want." He smiled and leaned over to kiss Rowan's shoulder. "Or I could bore you with more Tower talk." Cris drew light circles and other patterns on Rowan's stomach. "You can be a pirate in the games if you like. I think I can get Alfarinn to play the leader of the rebels. I wonder if I can convince him to paint himself green and wear pointy ears. What do you think? Or maybe Kem?"

There was great comfort to be had in the embrace of someone who cared about you, who knew you well, and who loved you in spite of your flaws. Rowan was relieved to have Cris there. It occurred to him to hope that they would find a way out of this. That there would be a day in the future when Rowan could repay Cris's support by being there for him in a time of need, too.

Did Cris even realize what the paper was that Alfarinn had fished out of Rowan's scrubs? Rowan didn't have the heart to mention it now. He didn't want to say it or bring it into the tranquility of their bedroom. Instead he remained silent, obediently placing his arms and legs where they needed to be for his partner to help dress him, shaking his head at Cris's words.

"I don't like that it's been you in this position," he said softly. Then he smiled and lifted his unbruised shoulder up. "At least now you have your own private physician. I promise you, I'll be taking very good care of you."

He knew what Cris's job entailed. Rowan wasn't blind to that. He'd never ask Cris to stop being what he was or doing what he did. He'd be there, though, to make sure Cris never did it alone, that there was always someone waiting to nurse him back to health the way Cris was doing for him now.

At least he hoped he would be.

He settled himself into bed with a groan and a few stifled protests of pain. It took a few minutes to find a position that didn't hurt everywhere but eventually he managed. Unfortunately, the painkillers were wearing off and he was starting to be able to feel his hands again.

He distracted himself by paying attention to Cris as his partner nestled up against him. It was a good feeling, Cris pressed close, his arm secure and comforting across Rowan's waist. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the pain in his hands, smiling at Cris's words.

He knew what Cris was doing. The same thing Rowan would have done if their positions were reversed. Cris was simply talking to him, chatting in a way that wasn't Cris's usual fashion but it gave Rowan something to focus on. Something for him to smile about, something to keep him from falling into depression, sadness, and fear. He loved Cris all the more for it.

Opening his eyes and looking at Cris, Rowan shook his head slightly. "German lullabies are a little frightening," he mumbled with a grimace of humor. "Maybe something in French?"

The idea of convincing Alfarinn or Kem to do what Cris suggested actually drew a shaky laugh from him. He didn't know Kem but he found the idea so absurd it had to be laughed at.

Turning slightly Rowan faced Cris, propping his arms against his partner's side so his injured hands didn't rest on anything. "Thank you," he said, smiling still. It took something special to know how to make someone laugh, to care enough about them to do so. Cris surely had his own fears, his own worries and concerns, but he was putting them aside to climb into bed and put Rowan's at ease when Rowan was sure Cris's instinct was to take action, figure things out, do something...

...sometimes he was fairly sure he didn't deserve Cris.

The door opened and closed downstairs but no one came up. Rowan assumed it was Aishe, perhaps, or Kem and Alfarinn returning. Either way they were downstairs, where the drugs were, and Rowan was considering asking Cris if whoever it was might bring them up here. He was torn; he didn't relish the idea of sleeping just yet but he knew he should.

He was saved further speculation by the unmistakeable sound of Cris's phone. Rowan raised his eyebrows at his partner in question as he realized that locating the phone himself and passing it to Cris was well beyond his capacity at the moment.

"Anytime." Cris smiled back at Rowan. "So no green...well that will make it less entertaining but I suppose they can be just your every day run of the mill human jedi masters. Boring." He grinned at Rowan. "I want one of the voice changer things. I wonder if MARI could be convinced to help me do all my announcements to my team..."

He sat up and the sound of his phone which was downstairs in his jacket pocket. Cris didn't want to not answer when it might be security needing something or someone with some information about this situation. He would have thought that Kem and Alfarinn would just send to him though since one was bonded to him and the other had the ability to send. Aishe would have just come upstairs and quietly knocked on the door. That only left Ume or something unrelated; either way, getting the phone was the best solution to the problem.

"I will be right back." Cris hopped out of the bed, ran to the edge and slid down the bannister. He managed to reach the jacket and fish the phone out of the pocket as it was going to voice mail.

"Hello?"

"Cris? This is Lynn from the Hospital. I am sorry for calling you this late but I couldn't reach Rowan and I was worried about him."

"Oh?" Cris was a cautious man by nature and suspicious by occupation. Giving away information was not a habit of his. Until he was sure that Lynn was looking for Rowan for benign reasons he was not going to offer up added details of the situation. For all he knew she had tried to murder Rowan tonight and wanted to know if she succeeded. It seemed unlikely but then so did seven people killing themselves for a comet.

"Yes, There was a fire earlier tonight near the hospital. One of the EMT's said that they saw someone who looked like Rowan run into the building but they never saw him come out. I tried reaching his cellphone but the call didn't go through at all. Is he there? Can I talk to him?"

Cris sighed softly with relief. Rowan was pretty distinctive in appearance and the EMT was likely to have seen him once or twice before at the very least. That would be all it took. One wasn't likely to forget a doctor who looked like he could be headed to a rave right after work. "He's here, Lynn. " Cris heard a huge sigh of relief on the other end of the phone line. "He did go into the building. I think it could have been a lot worse." That was certainly an understatement. "I believe the smoke and the fire became too much for him. I... think that he might have gotten confused, nearly passed out from the smoke. From what I understand, he managed to break open a window and got out. He made his way home. I hope you don't mind if he takes a few days off. Because he is going to, even if I have to strap him down to the bed." Cris wasn't asking her if Rowan could take a few days off; he was informing her that Rowan would not be coming into work. Perhaps the difference was subtle. It could remain so unless someone wished to push him to change his mind. On this he would not budge, neither Lynn nor Rowan himself could sway him.

There was a small chuckle on the other end of the phone and he could swear that he could hear her shake her head. Lynn sighed and said. "That does sound like Rowan... Do you mind if I come and check on him?"

"No, I understand you are worried. He is a little out of it right now but you are welcome to come over. I will let him know. I can reach you at this number?"

He gave her the details on how to get to the building which was not very difficult for anyone who had lived in Nachton for more than a few months. Cris decided that if he got back upstairs and Rowan absolutely didn't want company then he would call her back and let her know. At this moment, Rowan looked bad enough to warrant some time off from work. Tomorrow he would look markedly improved. Cris wanted her to see Rowan now so that his partner had a chance to rest and get emotionally better from this experience. If Rowan had been human he probably would not have survived. He would certainly have looked worse than he currently did. Lynn was going to underestimate the trauma that Rowan had gone through as it was. If she knew the truth then she would know that he might need an entire month or so to recuperate.

"Rowan's boss." Cris said to Aishe. "Apparently one of team at the scene recognized him from the hospital and was worried that he didn't make it out of the building. Lynn, his boss, is coming to check on him. Can you let her in when she gets here? I'm going to let Rowan know that he should expect company."

Cris trotted back up the stairs and carefully slid back into the bed. He rolled onto his side and leaned up on his elbow, propping his head up in the palm of his hand. "That was Lynn. The EMT recognized you from the hospital. She is coming over to check on you and make sure you are okay. If you don't want to see anyone tonight then I can call her back and let her know." Cris leaned over and kissed Rowan on the tip of his nose. "Its up to you, Love."

Rowan continued to smile as Cris revised his plans. It didn't matter if his partner was serious or not, he was intending to amuse and Rowan was, indeed, amused. Rowan appreciated his lover's efforts more than he could say at the moment. He was disappointed when Cris had to get up and dash for his phone. He felt his chest tighten with anxiety as Cris disappeared downstairs. What if it was the mysterious letter-writer and arsonist?

Don't be silly, he told himself, lying on his side looking at the space Cris had vacated. He wouldn't call, he'd just write another poem.

Ugh, that thought was terrifying. Rowan closed his eyes tightly and shook his head a little, turning his thoughts back to Cris. It wasn't that he didn't want to think about this murderer and how to catch them; it was that right now he could do nothing about it and thinking was only going to send him back into a state of panic.

Come on, Ruan, he thought to himself. Plenty of people have tried to kill you in the past. You just kill them first. It had never been like this though, never so concentrated. Never focused on him specifically, always because he was part of a whole targeted group. And never by murdering children to get his attention. That was the part that made him want to be sick.

He pushed those thoughts away once more, listening to Cris's voice downstairs. The sound was comforting. He was telling someone... well it sounded like they were talking about him. He waited until he heard Cris coming back up the stairs and felt himself relax noticeably. He hadn't realized how badly he needed Cris here. In the same room. Close enough to touch.

As Cris slid back into bed with him Rowan turned himself toward Cris again, resting his head against Cris's arm, his cheek pressing against it, his arms out at an awkward angle as he once more propped them up to avoid his hands touching anything.

His brows rose when Cris told him it was Lynn. "At this hour?"

When Cris explained that Rowan had been identified by description he nodded in comprehension. Of course. Word would have gotten back to the hospital through the EMT's and someone would have called Lynn and she, apparently, tracked down Cris, who was Rowan's emergency contact.

He closed his eyes and shook his head when Cris said he could call Lynn back. "It's okay," he said. "Might as well let her come now. Tomorrow I might have to use makeup."

At least now he probably looked ghastly. He felt like shit. It should translate. If he saw Lynn tomorrow he might have to fabricate his appearance to look like he'd been in a burning building and he didn't relish that idea. This way she could see his hands, too. He hoped she wouldn't try to treat them; he didn't want to take the bandages off. The deep welts on his hands would be impossible to explain when they appeared completely healed in a day or two when a human would take months to recover. His wrists and the backs of his hands probably looked much better now. Maybe Lynn could peek at those and see the burns weren't worthy of hospitalization or anything.

Worst case scenario, he worked a little mind mojo on her. It wasn't as if he hadn't before, but he tried not to resort to that often. Rowan sighed and relaxed against Cris. "I'm sorry," he said again.

For bringing this all onto Cris. For causing him worry. For encouraging a horde of people to barge in on his very solitary and private partner's personal space.

"I'll try to get her to be brief," he said. Not just for Cris, but for him, too.

"That was my thought also." He was glad his partner agreed with the idea of Lynn coming over tonight to see him and for the same reasons. It meant Rowan was thinking pretty clearly. Cris moved closer to Rowan and nuzzled up against his lover's shoulder. "I know you are likely very tired and would like to get some sleep but I think her coming today is useful."

He sighed softly and wrapped his arm around Rowan. "I also know that you might be worried about sleeping, or dreaming at any rate." Cris could just imagine what kind of nightmares were likely to come from facing one of your worst fears and then on top of it not being able to save a child's life. Rowan was as likely to have nightmares about the girl as he was the fire. "I will be with you. Right here in the house." He squeezed his lover a little tighter. "I promise. I will sit with you however long it takes, however many times it takes. You won't alone."

Deciding that was enough sober conversation, Cris leaned back and looked Rowan over. "You know it is too bad you are all banged up." He smiled with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "I could think of all kinds of ways to take advantage of you not being able to use your hands." Cris waggled his eyebrows at his companion and then leaned over to give him a soft tender kiss.

"Of course, I like it when you use your hands...and other parts of you also."

Laying his head back down he asked. "So what shall we do instead? I suppose we can watch some television or maybe a movie or two. They might help you focus on something until you drift off to sleep."

Cris reached over and picked up the phone and plugged it into the charging port on the nightstand that also plugged it into his home network. Finding the folder that was titled 'movies', he opened it and scrolled through it.

"We could continue our conversation theme and watch Star Wars. Hopefully just one of the movies would be enough but if not we could have a marathon run. There is a lot of other stuff here if you want to take a look and find something else you would prefer." Or they could do something else entirely. He was willing to do whatever his companion wanted to do, even if that was needlepoint.

He tilted the phone toward Rowan as far as the cord would let him go and slid the list up to the top of the alphabetical inventory. Cris slowly scrolled down or paused as needed. They were still discussing movies and random tangents that came from looking at the list, such as movie quoting and extreme disbelief when a beloved movie has not been watched by the other person, when the door bell rang.

"Well there is Lynn." Cris sat up. "Behave, remember to look injured, maybe moan a bit here and there, call her mother, pretend not to be able to see her...Do a good job and we will be vacationing in the Bahamas by the week end." He winked at Rowan, leaning over to give him a parting kiss before hopping up to go answer the door, grabbing his robe and shrugging into it on the way.

Opening the door, he ushered her inside. She looked a little baffled which must of have meant that she had seen MARI. This was confirmed by a thumb hitched back outside the door and a "Your welcoming committee is very impressive."

"Yes, MARI is very helpful. I now couldn't imagine The Towers without her." Cris closed the door and led her over to the stairs. "This is Aishe. Aishe, this is Lynn. Rowan is up this way." A quick visit would start with letting her see the person she came to see. He led her into his bedroom while silently wondering when he had ever had this many people in his place at one time. When had he last had two people in his bedroom at one time? It had been a while and it was for similar circumstances. Cris wondered with a pre-teen style sleep over was needed to mix up the events a little.

"Rowan, Lynn is here to see you."

Rowan tensed a little as Cris hit the nail on the head with his insight into Rowan's fears. He didn't particularly want to close his eyes, even though they were heavy with the need to rest and regenerate. Rowan didn't want to experience the kinds of dreams he thought he'd have; the disadvantage of being a heavy sleeper was that he never woke from his nightmares. He just had to ride them out.

He turned his head further toward Cris. He wanted to correct him, beg him to stay not just in the house but in this room, in this bed, but he knew Cris was going to have to leave to talk to the others. So he just pressed his cheek against Cris's shoulder and nodded. "Thank you," he said, pressing a gentle kiss to Cris's skin.

Rowan allowed himself to be distracted once again; he appreciated Cris's efforts. While the fire and the gruesome scene still played out in his head Cris was giving him some relief from it. The more time Rowan had to distance himself, to come to terms with it, the easier his sleep would be. He had lost patients before. Not like this, of course, but Rowan was not unfamiliar with death. It was just the method of this one, the fact that someone he didn't know was out to play with him and had used a former patient of his to get his attention.

He lost himself in the movie game a bit, feeling a little sense of the surreal to be lying here discussing something so mundane while his hands were bandaged and his mind was reeling, but he needed that. Cris's teasing made him smile; he reassured his partner that when he was able he would demonstrate exactly what he could do without hands and how much he'd like to be taken advantage of.

He was having to fight to stay awake by the time the doorbell rang, however, so Cris's advice didn't seem so difficult. He turned to face the stairs and the doorway, his eyes drifting closed while he listened to the voices below. It was Aishe who'd returned, and she was greeting his boss who sounded no-nonsense and businesslike even now. Then there were the sounds of feet coming softly up the stairs and Rowan cracked his eyes open to see Cris standing there. Lynn was beside him.

She moved forward in a hurry when Rowan looked at her. "My God, Rowan, what did you do? What were you thinking?"

Rowan smiled wanly at his boss. "I was trying to help," he said, his voice still suitably hoarse so that he didn't even need to fake it. "There was a child inside. I didn't think the rescue vehicles would get there in time."

Lynn put her bag down on the side of the bed and sat on the edge of it, bending down to reach into it. It was a black doctor's bag, he realized with amusement. A designer bag. How unexpected. The things you learned about people outside of work.

Lynn pulled out a stethoscope and tugged the bed covers down a bit, listening to his lungs. Rowan was glad there was very little rattle left; that alone probably would have had Lynn dragging him to the hospital. When he winced at her touch against his back she raised her eyebrows at him, frowned, and touched his shirt. "May I?"

Rowan nodded and rolled a little so she could pull it up. He heard her suck in a breath. "Rowan..."

"It's all right," he said. "Just a bruise."

Lynn pulled his shirt back down, her best 'don't argue with mom' expression in place. She quietly looked at his eyes, his throat, and then picked up his arm. "How bad is it?" she asked softly, looking at his hands.

Rowan considered what to tell her as he winced at the pain in his hands. Lynn was being gentle; they just hurt like crazy as the morphine he'd taken wore off. "Cuts and burns," he said simply. "I broke a window to get out, but I had to move a few things and there wasn't anything that wasn't smoldering. Second degree, nothing worse. I got lucky. It's just all over, though."

As Rowan had hoped Lynn simply pulled back the edge of Aishe's careful bandages rather than stripping them off altogether. She didn't want to subject him to another round of torment if the wounds were already cleaned and covered. She did frown, though.

"They're like this, all over?"

Rowan nodded slowly. "I'm sorry," he said genuinely. "I thought I could help. Did they get that child out in time?"

Of course he already knew the answer. But Lynn frowned, let the bandage fall back into place, and rested her hand on Rowan's head, smoothing his hair back as she would a child. "I'm sorry, Rowan, no," she said, shaking her head. "It was too late."

She watched his face for a moment, saw the hurt in his eyes. Even knowing the truth it still hurt to hear. Lynn smiled sadly at him. "A few people saw you go in there," she said softly. "They know you tried. Out of everyone who stood there and watched the building burn, you tried."

Rowan just nodded at her, saying nothing. It was hard to feel comfort when the situations was so much different than what Lynn thought it was. At least she wouldn't have to know about this, he thought. Deranged murderers stalking her doctors was way out of 'things to handle' in her job description.

Lynn folded her stethoscope and put it away. "Do you need something for the pain?"

Rowan closed his eyes. "I had Cris give me an injection of morphine before he and Aishe bandaged my hands up for me," he said, and then added, "but I think it's wearing off."

He gave her the dose he'd had them give, leaving out that it had been done twice; she wouldn't understand his metabolism. When she offered to give him another shot he didn't argue, just nodded his head. Rowan didn't like to take drugs on a regular basis but, loathe as he was to admit it, he did need to sleep.

Lynn pulled he necessary syringes and a little bottle from her bag. She drew the drug up into the syringe. "I don't expect you back at the hospital for a while," she said. "If you need anything," she glanced up at Cris, including him in that statement, "please let me know. I'll tell everyone what happened."

She slid the needle into his arm, pulled back, and then injected the morphine into his vein. Rowan sighed at the odd detached feeling that washed over him but the pain faded away, leaving him feeling dizzy and sleepy.

"Thanks Lynn," he said. "I'm sorry."

She slid off the bed, leaned down, and kissed his forehead, still in the role of mom. "Don't be sorry. Just get better so I can have my star Pediatrician back, okay?"

Rowan nodded and let his head fall back against the pillows while Lynn went back to Cris. He heard her voice as if from a very great distance.

"He's got at least three weeks of sick leave he's never taken, and probably over a month of vacation on top of that," she was saying. "Will you keep me updated? Let me know if things aren't healing right. Change those bandages daily. I'll call in a prescription to the pharmacy for you if you think he'll take it, to help with the pain. An antibiotic as well. And if anything looks different, at all, you need to bring him in... kicking and screaming if need be."

Rowan wanted to tell her the antibiotics were pointless but he kept quiet; he would add them to his own stock and use them when someone needed them here at the Towers. The painkillers, too. He supposed they would be useful for a day or so but he should be healed after that.

He closed his eyes. And drifted a little bit. Sleep was close but he couldn't. Not without Cris. He thought he heard the crackling of flames but when he opened his eyes there was only quiet; Cris and Lynn had gone. Rowan waited.

Cris waited beside the bed while Lynn checked on Rowan. Her manner was something between a doctor and a mother; he thought she was probably very good at her job. A doctor who continued to care after the first few years was a rare thing. She had a thankless occupation now but at the same time Lynn had a better say over which cases got the help that was needed and which ones were battles that her staff just had no hope of winning. It was something he understood very well. Cris found himself respecting Lynn very much and her personal concern for Rowan caused that respect to grow into something more. He didn't know her well but he thought he liked her plenty.

He winced when she peeled back the bandages, knowing that it had to hurt Rowan terribly. Cris was grateful she chose to spare him the pain of unwrapping them. He would have objected but he was happy to not need to.

Nodding carefully to the different things she advised him about his companion, Cris walked her back to the door. "Thank you for checking on him. We both appreciate it." He looked up the stairs toward Rowan. "Sometimes he is too selfless for his own good." Cris returned his attention to Lynn. "I promise to take good care of him." He wished she could understand how serious the problem was for Rowan but there didn't seem to be any reason to explain more. Cris wanted Rowan's co-workers to understand just how brave he was, going into a burning despite being terrified of fire; however, that was his partner's tale to tell. He would guard his lover's privacy. No doubt the Hospital staff would consider Rowan a hero for going in anyway, not many people would have done such a thing.

After closing the door, Cris hurried back up the stairs. He took of the robe and slid back into the bed. Snuggling up next to Rowan again, he wrapped an arm around his lover's waist. "So, now I should get you to make all kinds of promises, right? Get you to take out the trash for the next twenty years, laundry duty, window cleaning." Cris lowered his voice to a soft soothing tone. "Get some sleep, Love. I am right here. I will stay right here as long as you need."

Rowan had asked for a French lullaby instead of a German one. He considered for a moment, some of the French ones were equally strange.

"Il était une petite poule noire
Qui allait pondre dans l'armoire
Pondait un petit coco
Que l'enfant mangeait tout chaud
Il était une petite poule blanche
Qui allait pondre dans la grange
Pondait un petit coco
Que l'enfant mangeait tout chaud "

It was a silly song as well but then most lullabies were. Cris sang the rest of the verses and then eased his head up and looked over at Rowan.

((OOC: Its a song about a little chicken of various colours living in various places (that conveniently rhyme with the chicken's colour, imagine that!) Then the little kid eats a hot egg. Yep, stunning lyrics but its cute and not nightmare inducing. There are more verses about a grey chicken in a church, a red chicken in some moss, a brown chicken on the moon but I didn't want to take up the whole post with it.))

Rowan didn't have long to wait, at least he didn't think it was, before he heard someone moving around in the room. He felt the bed shift slightly as Cris climbed in and he dragged his heavy eyelids open to see Cris, to be sure he was there. He uttered a long sigh as he was wrapped in Cris's arms again. It was good... Cris was right here, pressed against him.

His lips drifted up a bit as Cris teased a bit. He nodded. "'Kay," he mumbled muzzily. "Take out the laundry. Clean the trash."

Cris's voice dropped, soft, soothing, gentle. Words that Rowan wanted to hear so badly. "Don't go. Promise?"

He had always told himself he understood, that Cris had places he needed to be, that he could be patient and not needy. Not tonight. Tonight, oh God, he really wanted to know for sure that Cris would stay there, right there, and not leave him. That when he woke up Cris would be the first thing he saw.

He laughed very softly, under his breath, at the song Cris began to sing. Rowan recognized it. He sang along, sort of, his voice slurring and the words unclear. It took almost no time for him to sleep, pushed down by the drugs in his system.

It was a testament to said 'better living through chemistry' that his dreams did not begin immediately. No, he simply spiraled into much-needed sleep, hearing a soft tenor voice, feeling the comforting weight of a familiar arm around his waist.