Gavin stared at the ceiling, listening to the radio play a song he'd already heard a hundred times in the last two weeks. He closed his eyes, hating every moment of his existence slightly more than the moment before. Part of him wanting to shoot up with something and just float away for another few hours- at least that made the time pass quicker. Part of him wanted to try to sneak out of the room. Again. But the burly guards that Tara had hired to keep an eye on him had already returned him to his bed twice, and they apparently had enough training to avoid re-aggravating his injuries.

His ears perked up when he heard a voice at the door.

"Yes, Miss. Miss Byrne called ahead and let us know you were coming."

Gavin stopped reaching for his gun when he heard the guard mention Tara, but his expression didn't change as he looked toward the door. Who the hell would that be? Jack... not a Miss.

It had taken most of the courage Stella could summon for her to walk into the hospital. How bad was it, really? Would he want to see anyone? For that matter, would he want to see her? Stella knew that Gavin's pride meant a lot to him, but she frankly couldn't stay away. As soon as Tara had gone from the shop, Stella left for the hospital, still in her black skirted suit and pinned back hair.

With a deep breath, she pushed the door open. The room was slightly lit by the late afternoon sun. Her eyes moved to the bed, where she saw Gavin laying there, watching. That he was awake gave Stella a sigh of relief, and a soft smile replaced the worry lines. She moved toward the side of the bed. 

"Hey, you. Still getting into mischief, I see."

She held her breath, the fear of rejection like nails in her stomach. Still, as if her body weren't listening to her brain at all, she reached out her hand and let her fingers trace over the back of his hand, reminiscent of their night in Vegas. 

Gavin was surprised to see Stella, but he still grinned as she walked into the room. He sat up as straight as he could, trying to breath normal and seem perfectly at ease.

"Hey, how many people get to take an army jeep off a ramp into a cargo ship? Got a little banged up, but I'll be fine."

He took her hand and squeezed it once, flashing a smirk.

"Please tell me you're here to break me out. Or is this a conjugal visit?"

"If a conjugal visit would keep you in bed, I'll tip nurses"

Stella replied with a sly grin of her own. Relief washed over her like a wave; both that he seemed happy to see her  and that he was at least well enough to crack jokes. Still, the extent of his injuries were apparent. His face had various scratches and bruises, and the sheet didn't quite cover the bandages around his torso. 

Not letting go of his hand, Stella sat in the small wooden chair beside the bed. 

"Tara came to see the parlor today. I even managed to convince her to have a massage. It seemed to work, as I don't think she had planned to tell me what happened. But, Lara has magic hands, and she might be a useful interrogation tool in the future."

She chuckled a little. 

​​​​​​"We had a really nice chat. In fact, I'm taking her to dinner later tonight. She's lovely, but you clearly got the biggest share of the relaxed personality traits."

​​​​​

Gavin blinked. He'd just been thinking about whether Stella could get her knees on either side of him in the hospital bed, and the morphine from earlier was somewhat slowing his thoughts. He blinked again. His back was beginning to hurt from sitting upright, but he gave zero visible signs of his discomfort. He'd dealt with worse.

"Glad you had a nice chat. And no, she's fucking crazy. Who else would hire guards for a hospital room? I mean, I could see it if someone wanted to come after me... actually, that could be why they're here too... whatever, so she's not crazy. What'd she do to make you say that bit? Interview you?"

Stella laughed. 

"Not at all. I could simply tell by the way Lara had to work knots out of the poor woman's shoulders. I think I'm going to stick to the art and companion businesses. Much less stress."

There was something hiding behind Gavin's eyes. Of course, they smiled like always, but it was strained. That much Stella could tell. She ran her thumb over the top of his hand.

"Level with me, Gavin. I know you've been here for some time already. How bad did you mangle yourself?" 

​​​

Gavin shrugged.

"I'm fine, really. Just knocked around a bit, but it's nothing I can't handle. Just be careful if you're ever driving around with JackMezzo, huh?"

He winked.

"The scary thing is that Tara has actually gotten better lately. You should have seen her when she was younger."

"Well, I think the massage helped.  I could tell she was apprehensive about it at first- especially when Lara handed her the towel to 'change' into."

Stella laughed a bit.

"But, we managed to have a nice little meeting while she was in naught but a towel, so I'd call that a win for her."

Stella's eyes wandered around the room for a moment.  There was a glass bottle hanging on a pole, now empty, printed with the word "morphine."  That would explain why he's feeling alright.  But morphine- prescribed?  She grimaced a little, then put her smile back where it belonged.

"You're lucky to have a sister like that.  Those guards are doing a good job, whether they're protecting you from bad guys or yourself."

Reaching down beside the chair, she grabbed her bag and pulled out a small piece of paper, the size of a check.

"Remember that big old chunk of rock I showed you back at the agency?"

With a cheeky smile, she handed the check to Gavin.

"That's my split.  $7 million- free and clear."

"I have fond memories of that particular chunk of rock, you know. Would have bought it myself as a memento if it wasn't so damn expensive. Glad to hear you got a good deal for it, at least."

He smirked.

"Does that mean you and I get to have a towel-wearing meeting now? I can promise you mine'll be much more fun."

Though her cheeks blushed, Stella grinned at him with mischief in her eyes. 

"We could, but I'd prefer no towels. But, you need to be at 100 percent first..."

Stella leaned in closer and lowered her voice seductively."

"...Because when I get you back into my bed, I'm going to absolutely wear you out."

Gavin sighed. He would have risked it. If he was mostly sitting... well, she was probably right. Still, indulging in those thoughts was a pleasant distraction.

"Fair enough. Looking forward to that. Give me a couple days I'll be on my feet. Or on you. Whichever you prefer."

With a smile, he glanced up at the clock.

"Are you heading for dinner downtown? I've got to warn you, Tara hates when people are late."

Stella's grin wouldn't fade, even if she'd wanted it to.

"I'm picking her up, she's picking the place.  I have no idea where we're going.  I've been living on grilled cheese sandwiches and vegetable soup for two weeks since I've been opening up the parlor.  It's about time I saw some real food.  Speaking of which, if you want, I can see if I can smuggle you in some decent food later tonight.  From what I hear, hospital food isn't the best."

She looked at the clock, as well.  She probably would need to go soon, if she was going to catch a cab to pick up Tara.

"Tara knows her stuff. She'll pick somewhere nice for you. And that food delivery sounds amazing."

Gavin picked up Stella's hand and kissed the back of it. Not only romantic, but if he tried to lean forward he'd probably scream.

"I really do appreciate you stopping by. I'll see you later, yea?"

"As soon as humanly possible... without seeming rude to your sister."

Before leaving, Stella leaned over and planted a soft, teasing kiss on Gavin's lips, then took her bag over her shoulder and slipped out.  As she made her way toward the doors leading outside, she closed her eyes for a moment and breathed a final sigh of relief.  He was ok- so it seemed- and he still had some interest in her.  She couldn't help but fear that their night in Vegas had been a one-off thing.  She knew how a lot of young and handsome mob guys could be.  

Raising a hand at the curb, she hailed a taxi and made her way to the address Tara gave her to pick her up.

Gavin watched Stella leave the room, both appreciating her figure and because of the building pain from sitting up in bed. As soon as she turned the corner, he slowly collapsed back onto the bed and drifted off to sleep.

Around nine o'clock that evening, Stella arrived at the hospital. In her hand was a carefully wrapped meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and Parmesan toasted green beans.  Her dinner with Tara had been quiet, uneventful, and relaxing.  It was really the first time that she'd had a non-business related meal in a while.  Tara was an intense person, and Stella found her very interesting- even made a few mental notes for herself from Tara's knowledge of business. 

A sign on the main entrance clearly stated that visiting hours were over.  On top of that, the doors were locked tightly.  Looking both ways down the sidewalk, Stella noticed a sign for delivereis pointing down the sidewalk toward the west side of the building.  That was her in.  Arriving at the deliveries entrance, there was one guard propped against the wall, seemingly nodding off.  Stella cleared her thraot.

"Excuse me- I'm so sorry to bother you, but I have this dinner I brought for my husband; Dr. Stewart.  I was supposed to bring it earlier before the hospital closed for the night, but I got caught up in traffic downtown and it was just a mess.  Could you please let me in?  I'll be as quick as a rabbit, you'll barely know I was here at all."

The guard didn't seem to care much.  He stood, fumbled with some keys, and unlocked the heavy door.  Stella slipped him a crisp $50 bill and stepped inside.  She was in the kitchen, and it was fairly dark.  Carefully, she made her way toward a door, which led into a well- lit hallway.  Gavin was on the third floor, so she walked quietly until she found a stairway.  She climbed two flights of stairs unnoticed, and pushed the swinging door open onto the third floor.  As it turned out, she was just down the hall from his room.  One nurse was walking opposite her direction, so Stella waited till she turned a corner, then slipped down the hallway to Gavin's door.  It was not closed all the way, so she carefully inched it open further, trying not to let the door creak.  She whispered.

"Gavin?  You awake?  Dinner is served."

Gavin was sound asleep, lightly snoring, when he heard Stella's voice. His hand twitched, instinctively moving toward the gun under his pillow- just in case- as it always did when he awoke before resting on his thigh. He reached over, gently, to pick up a bottle of water and rinse out his mouth, taking a few long swigs from the bottle as well.

"Stella? Hey. Yea, I'm up."

This time, though, he didn't force himself upwards into a sitting position; instead, he just tried to prop himself up with a pillow behind him. 

Stella closed the door quietly behind her and walked further into the room.  There was only a lamp on in the corner beside the window.  She thought it best not to brighten it up anymore, lest she attracts attention.  Spying a rolling table on the other side of the bed, she walks over and places the dinner pack on the table and rolls it back to the other side of the bed.  She takes off her coat and begins unwrapping the plate from the paper. 

"I hope I didn't take too long.  Tara and I had a few drinks with our meal.  It was nice, but I wanted to get back here sooner."

Lifting the paper away from the plate, the smell of savory meatloaf and gravy permeated the air.  

"Tara told me you liked good home-cooking. Someone at a table beside us got this, and it looked delicious."

She rolled the table close to the bed side.  There was a pillow awkwardly stuffed halfway behind his back.

"Well that looks neither comfortable nor effective. I can help you, if you want."

Gavin grins, both at Stella and the meatloaf. 

"Don't need help, thanks. My back is just a little sore."

Silence filled the room for a moment, and he felt the need to fill it. He smiled at Stella.

"I cracked a couple ribs. Hurt my back, too. I'll be fine. It's not a big deal. Just need to stay mostly still for a little while longer until they let me out of this hellhole. Could you hand me the plate?"

Stella nodded, picking up the plate carefully and handing it to him, along with a fork she managed to slip out of the restaurant.

"Tara said you've been here two weeks already. I bet it's driving you nuts.  But don't worry, there isn't much going on at all.  Anywhere.  Things in Vegas are quiet, and Mara is doing a fine job managing things for me while I'm here.  Things seem to be humming right along for the Pier, too.  I'm making a promise to myself this week to go and visit some of the other businesses.  I don't want to seem like a recluse."

She sat back a bit in the chair, thinking over her dinner with Tara, the massage parlor, and the rest of the news.  

"I got some new information about my father.  I found out the name of the family he turned in.  Ratted on some guy named Durden.  I think he's Irish.  I dug a little more deeply, and it turns out this guy has muscle everywhere- every city.  I've hired three bodyguards now, in addition to the two at each business.  But, I think I know what I'm going to do."

Taking a deep breath, she continues.

"I'm going to meet with the guy my father ratted out.  I think if I can just talk to him, explain the situation, and sweeten the pot with a couple hundred thousand, maybe I can smooth things over.  Men like him would rather have money than blood, right?"