The Program Ch. 06

"I love a medic with a sense of humour." He spread a cool antibacterial cream on her side and smoothed a fresh bandage over the wound. Wilson was quiet for a long while, his fingers lightly tracing the outline of the bandage. "You were lucky," he said finally.

Taylor opened her eyes and saw the concern on his face as he stared at her stomach. "I know," she said softly.

"I mean, an inch higher, or an inch closer to midline..."

"And it probably would have hit the vest properly," she finished, trying to ease the guilty look on his face.

Wilson forced a smile and fleetingly met her gaze. He heaved a sigh and turned away, occupying himself with the removal of her boots. He set them on the floor and stood, searching in the nearby dresser for a clean shirt. "I think your clothes are all in the other room, so you'll have to settle for one of my shirts."

Taylor eased herself into a sitting position, and received a reproachful stare for her efforts. "Don't baby me, Wilson. We're in a whole heap of trouble and I need to be functional." She knew she wasn't actually convincing. Who was she kidding? She was exhausted and could barely keep her eyes open.

Wilson sat in front of her on the bed and scowled. She raised her arms so he could slide the oversized tee over her head. He smoothed the shirt down her back and continued to run his palms slowly up and down her back and arms. She let her head drop against his shoulder. "I'm not babying you, I promise," he grumbled sarcastically. "But you can hardly see straight. And I think Doc is right about this one-you need to rest."

Taylor nodded reluctantly, rubbing her cheek against his shirt. A soft laugh rumbled through his chest and his hand came up to cup her face in his palm. She felt her body start to go lax; his presence was so warm and reassuring that her guard was dropping. He was right; she did need rest. She'd be no use to anyone until she could think straight and act quickly, and she was sure she'd worn out all her reserves just to procure the SUV earlier in the day.

She felt Wilson shift, his body cradling hers and his hand sliding from her cheek to the back of her neck. Then he kissed her. Taylor's surprise melted quickly away along with any thoughts of resisting as his lips pressed gently against hers, caressing and coaxing a response. His mouth was firm and insistent, drawing a breathless moan from her. She struggled to keep a coherent thought in her mind as she panted to catch her breath.

This wasn't supposed to happen anymore, right? He said he didn't want to do this, didn't he? She was too tired to fight with him, and too dazed to think about it clearly, but the confusion and hurt flickered in her eyes as he pulled back to fill his lungs as well. His brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"

She stopped chewing her lip and glanced down to where her hand was resting flat against his chest. "I thought you... You said you didn't want to do this again," she whispered haltingly.

It definitely took him a minute to understand what she was referring to. Then he laughed. "Taylor," he drew her against him and kissed her forehead. "Jesus, if it weren't for the stitches I would take you over my knee and spank some sense into you."

She scoffed, "You wouldn't."

Wilson grinned, dumped her backwards on the bed, and his hand dropped to her hip, pinning her to the sheets. She had just enough time to suck in a breath before his lips were on hers again, gently tormenting her, sending quivers through her stomach and causing her brain to stall completely. His mouth inched down to her jaw, kissing a fiery trail to her ear. He nipped at her earlobe and she found herself clinging to his shoulders. "I would. I'd spank you until my hand was redder than a fire engine." He found the spot just behind her ear and teased until her breaths were coming in short gasps. "And then I'd love you until you couldn't see straight."

Taylor groaned. It was a good thing his hand was keeping her immobile or she'd have thrashed her stitches open. Her fingers wove into the short hair at the back of his neck as he moved over her, his mouth finding hers. She moaned when he finally eased out of the kiss and her grasp, sitting back and shifting awkwardly around the evidence of his arousal. Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked at him quizzically.

A lop-sided grin stretched across his face, "Like I said, if it weren't for the stitches..." Taylor muttered in indignation, her face colouring with twin patches of pink. "As it stands, you need sleep. I think you'll actually go cross-eyed if you keep trying to glare at me like that."

The backs of his fingers grazed her cheek and she sighed in resignation, her eyes closing. "You're a jerk."

He chuckled. "Jerk? That's the best you've got?"

Taylor grumbled, swatting at the side of his head and cuffing him lightly on the ear. "Asshole."

"There's the Taylor I know and love. Get some sleep; I'll fix something for you to eat. Knowing you, you'll be grouchy if we don't feed you soon."

"You would get me all riled up and leave me all alone," she grumbled.

Wilson heaved a long, beleaguered sigh and shifted, stretching out on the bed next to her. "You're a real pain in the ass when you're injured." He slid an arm beneath her and drew her onto her side, as he dropped onto his back, pillowing her head on his shoulder. "Is that comfortable?"

Taylor nodded, her eyes already closed. She could hear his heart beating where her ear pressed against his shoulder, and she could feel his breathing as his chest moved easily under her hand. He pulled a blanket up to her shoulders and his arms closed gently around her slight frame. He was warm, and soft, and he smelled good. For a fraction of a second, she realized that she must look a mess, but then she didn't care. It was Wilson. He'd seen her looking far worse many times before. The pull into sleep was quick and heavy and she felt her body giving in to it easily. Did he say love?

~o~

Bill leaned his hip against the island counter in the kitchen watching Danny build a monster of a sandwich. Normally, he'd insist on making his own food, or at least helping in some way, but he was fresh out of arguments and after the past day with Taylor, he was done with confrontation. Besides, he was enjoying watching Danny work. Dressed in a pair of fitted khaki pants and cobalt polo shirt that brought out the deep blue of her eyes, she swayed in a carefree sort of way as she worked. And she was humming to herself. It was adorable. "So, how do you know Taylor?"

She glanced up, a small smile on her lips. "I could ask you the same thing. How do you know she's not just friends with my brother?"

He gave shrug. "I don't have any brothers, but I doubt I'd greet my hypothetical brother's friends with a shriek and bone crushing hug."

"It wasn't bone crushing," Danny licked mustard from her finger as she handed Bill the plate of food. There was something ridiculously sexy about the little mannerism and it more than captured Bill's attention. "It was just a little enthusiastic. I hadn't seen Taylor in a few months, and it's normally a good time when I see her," she turned back to the fridge, emerging again with two bottles of beer. "Besides, she and I go way back."

Bill followed as she led the way out onto the porch, and dropped onto the padded bench with a sigh. The sound of the waves, the slanted afternoon sun, the smell of the salt air, they all came as a wonderful comfort to his very frayed nerves. Danny nodded at the sandwich and watched the shifting shoreline as she waited for him to finish the food.

When he'd finished, Bill set the plate on the arm of the bench and accepted the beer that Danny handed him. The sandwich not only tasted great, but it left him with a pleasantly full feeling that did wonders for his attitude. "Thank you, that was fantastic."

"No problem. So," she rolled her bottle between her palms. "Is it weird if I say it's good to see you?"

He smiled, "No, not at all. I was just thinking the same thing." She raised a brow at him sceptically. "I don't know your brother all that well, but he never struck me as much of a conversationalist. I'm sure you're just itching for someone to talk to."

She swatted his leg. "Hey, Josh is a good guy, he just needs to give you a chance."

"Well, as long as it's not my fault." They both laughed.

"You know, you never told me how you wound up in this mess." She sipped her beer with a slight look of anticipation on her face.

Bill took a long swig of the beer before answering. "Honestly, I have no idea." He chuckled. If he thought about it, there was something ridiculous about the whole situation. "I was minding my own business, and then... Well," he held his hands out in a shrug. "Now I'm a super spy."

The corners of Danny's mouth twitched as she tried to keep from grinning. "That, in no way, answered my question."

Bill smiled broadly. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." He took another sip from his beer as Danny giggled. He couldn't keep from laughing and had to swallow quickly to keep from choking. It felt so good to laugh. "I've always wanted to say that."

Danny caught her breath, "That line is so old, I think my grandmother shot it down." She sipped her beer and gazed out at the water as it rolled against the sand. "So you don't know what's going on either?"

He shook his head. "No clue. Up until a few days ago, I thought Taylor was just some twenty year old intern, running memos around the office."

"Yeah, right," she muttered.

"I think you'd be surprised how convincing she is in that role," Bill tipped his beer at her. "I mean, she's really good."

Danny flashed a grin, "Oh I'm sure she is. I was just suggesting that you may have been paying a little more attention than you're implying." Bill blushed and it said more than his answer would have. Danny shook her head. "Another one snared by the mysterious and enigmatic Taylor James."

That was an awkward thing to say. "You make that sound like a bad thing," he teased.

"No, no," she corrected on impulse. "I just... You look..." she sighed.

"Like Mick?"

"You know?" she sounded surprised.

"Doc told me." He watched the series of expressions flit across Danny's face. They were hard to discern, but the overall impression was clearly conflicted. "You knew Mick too?"

She tried to smile, but it only looked sad. "Josh and Mick were roommates in college. He was Josh's best friend. I'd known him for years." When she left the sentence hanging, pieces of the situation seemed to fall into place. Bill knew the look on her face; Danny had loved Mick, and Taylor had been seeing him. And he looked just like Mick... Oh boy. "Look, it's not a big deal. It's just a little creepy sometimes," Danny said quickly. "And I totally understand why guys dig Taylor. She is beautiful and there's a certain fascination with her reticence."

Bill was quiet for a long time. "I don't know," he said finally. "I mean, I don't even know who she is. And there's a fine line between being curious, totally confused, and disconcertingly unsure. I probably know more about you than I know about her."

"And what exactly do you think you know about me?"

He glanced over to see the mischievous glint in her eye. She was teasing him, he realised. This girl was going to be trouble. Though, Taylor was trouble in a much more serious and life-threatening way than Danny was. And Danny was still watching him expectantly. "Well, I know your family is important to you, or you wouldn't fight with your brother like you do. You're a loyal friend if you can go without seeing someone for months, which I'd assume happens often with Taylor, and be so excited to see them. You work hard. You don't take shit from other people. You have good taste in beer. And you make one hell of a sandwich." He paused, taking another swig of his beer. "What else is there to know?"

Danny blinked, a blush slowly stealing across her cheeks. "And here I thought you weren't paying attention." She studied his face carefully and Bill felt himself grin sheepishly.

He had been paying attention. He hadn't set out to, but he had been. The pause in their conversation stretched out and he shifted uncomfortably. "So, you and Wilson got here ok?"

"Yeah," Danny shrugged, the moment of tension passing. "I woke up in the car and Josh said we were taking a small side trip. We've been here for two days, relaxing on the beach."

"You slept through the whole thing?" he asked incredulously.

"What whole thing?" When Bill didn't answer, she moved on the bench, turning to face him directly. "What happened to you guys?"

Bill made a face and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, first the cabin blew up."

"What?!"

He shrugged. "I think that was supposed to happen. I mean, I think Taylor set a timer. You two were already gone. What wasn't supposed to happen was for people to see us leave and start shooting."

"You were shot at?" Danny's eyes were wide.

Bill snorted. "I was shot at. Taylor was shot."

"She was shot?!"

Bill started at the tone of Danny's voice, and set a hand gently on her shoulder. "She'll be alright. She was wearing a vest, but somehow the bullet just snuck past it. Doc sewed her up. We probably would have spent another day at that motel, but we had to make a rather quick retreat."

Danny was holding her breath without realising it, and Bill was starting to wonder if he should actually finish the story. "Why a quick retreat?" she asked softly.

He squeezed her shoulder. "Tracer in my computer. Did you know that Taylor carries around blocks of C4?" Danny shook her head. "Well, she does. And she knows how to use it. So. She blew up our motel room, shot someone, I got shot, and then we stole a car."

Danny blinked. "What?"

"True story," he said with a grin.

She squinted for a moment then exploded, pushing him roughly in the chest. "Shut up!"

Bill oofed and curled protectively around his midsection, "Hey, careful." He rubbed his sternum gingerly. "I'm still a little bruised." Danny scrambled into his lap and before he could stop her, she had his shirt hiked up to his armpits. "Hey!" He froze, as her fingertips stroked gently over the circular welt left by the bullet.

"You were wearing a vest?" she asked. He nodded, the sensation of her soft touch making it difficult to form words. "Did it hurt?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes honestly!"

"It was like being kicked by a mule."

Danny caught his eyes, her fingers stilling on his skin. "And I'm guessing that the guy who did this is no longer around to do it again?"

"No." The memory of Taylor's kiss brought a fresh blush to Bill's face and the combination of the recollection and Danny's proximity had him squirming uncomfortably. "No. Uh, Taylor took care of that."

"Oh," she looked back at the deeply purple bruise. "I'm glad you're ok." Bill instantly recognised the sound of Wilson clearing his throat. He flinched and Danny shook her head slowly. "Damnit all, Josh. You have the worst timing..."

Wilson watched as Danny slid off of Bill's lap, and Bill quickly readjusted his shirt. "I thought we talked about this," Wilson grumbled at Bill as he sat next to his sister on the far side of the bench.

Bill resisted the urge to tell him that Danny had started it. Somehow, he didn't think that would go well. Danny scowled at her brother. "I thought I told you to butt out." The two Wilson siblings glared at each other until Bill stood and stretched.

"Well, this is... awkward. I think I'll... Go... Somewhere else."

Wilson frowned. "Sit down Martin, I need to talk to you."

"We talked about this too, Josh," Danny said sweetly.

Wilson closed his eyes as if asking for patience and sighed. He made a face then smiled at Bill. "I'm sorry, I would like to speak with you. Do you mind sticking around?" Bill tamped down the urge to chuckle and sat back on the bench next to Danny.

She smiled again and patted Wilson's cheek. "Was that so hard?"

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. The look in his eyes when he met Bill's gaze was both long-suffering and amused. His face went stoic, "Look, I need to know what happened."

Bill shifted nervously. "What did Taylor tell you?"

"I didn't ask," Wilson said softly. "She's sleeping and she'd be in no shape to talk about it even if she wasn't. So I want to hear it from you."

Danny excused herself, disappearing into the kitchen again, and Bill watched her leave with concern. Wilson wouldn't hit him if she was still sitting between them. "Where do you want me to start?"

"From the moment I walked out the door," Wilson answered.

Bill nodded and glanced up as Danny returned. She was wrapped in a blanket and handed both men a bottle of beer before she settled back on the bench at Bill's side, tucking her feet beneath the worn afghan. Bill took a sip of beer for courage and launched into the story of what happened. Wilson didn't interrupt, he simply listened, letting Bill give as much detail as he could remember. When he finally finished, Bill shook his head and took another swig of beer. "Look, I don't know how she was still on her feet when we got here, but she was practically spitting fire when I suggested she let me carry the bag."

Wilson snorted. "That's Taylor for you." He clinked his bottle against Bill's. "Welcome to the 'I-got-shot' club. It was a good thing you were wearing that vest."

"It was a good thing he didn't shoot me in the head," Bill said wryly.

"Well," Wilson leaned back staring out at the dark shoreline. "That's the other reason for her attitude. Taylor doesn't like shooting people."

Bill glanced up sharply. "No one likes to shoot people, right?"

He shrugged, "You'd be surprised. Some people get off on it. Taylor is one hell of a shot. Perhaps too good. But it's hell on her." Bill saw the concern on cross Wilson's face before he could mask it, and started to wonder about the type of relationship that existed between the two partners. Wilson frowned and ran a hand through his hair. "Any idea who put the chip in your laptop?"

"No," Bill grumbled. "I've been running it over and over again in my mind, and I can't remember. I think Larson handed me my bag and said," he made a blank gesture with his hand. "I don't know. We sent someone to your apartment to get your stuff? I can't remember if he gave me a name. I was so tired, I wasn't thinking straight."

"You're sure Larson handed it to you?"

"Oh yeah." Bill gave a sheepish smile. "I remember thinking that he probably could have thrown the bag down the hall."

The corner of Wilson's mouth twitched in the beginning of a smile. "He does give that impression, doesn't he?" He knocked back the last of his drink and stood. "We'll have to take a look at that memory chip, and we sure as hell need to figure out what to do. But I say we leave that to sharper minds after a good night's sleep." He stooped and kissed Danny's forehead, "Don't fall asleep out here, it's going to get cold."

Danny swatted at him, "Yes, Dad."

Wilson chuckled. "I'll see you both in the morning."

As soon as he was out of sight, Danny rested her head on Bill's shoulder. "That's one hell of a story, Boy Scout."

"Don't I know it." Bill draped his arm across her shoulder, "So what's the deal with your brother and Taylor? They partners? Or... Partners?"

"What makes you ask that?"

The tone of her voice made him think that she'd been asking herself the same question. "Instinct," he said quietly.

"I've asked, but they won't answer the question. Which means that I probably don't want to know." She sighed. "Josh had to pick her up and get her back on her feet after Mick... They both lost a lot, but Taylor just... Josh and I are her only family."

"That sounds like a difficult position to be in," he murmured.