But now, the shock of her own trauma was setting in... He reached out to put a gentle hand on her back, but she flinched and pressed her body even closer to the door, trembling violently. "Hey.. shh... it's okay, you're safe now.... I'm not going to hurt you..."

"But you're willing to hold me hostage... is that supposed to make me feel better?" she fired back, still able to challenge him even though she'd been terrified by what happened.

She sure was a feisty one. Here he was being nice to her and she reacted this way... It pissed him off. "Look lady, I saved you from that... "

"Bastard! Yes, you did... and for that I'm grateful...but I've served my purpose now... so why not let me go?"

He was reluctant to say it, since it meant admitting he was in a position of dependence, "Because... I still... need you.. your help I mean...."

She turned toward him, looked him up and down and realized he was in worse shape than she felt, and it made her chuckle.... "Yes, I guess you do at that... God, you're a mess, John..."

"Yea.. thought so... just call me one eyed Jack... " he said with a laugh, squinting at her, not knowing why it mattered, yet trying to make light of their situation.

"What am going to do with you?"

"Uh.. make it so I can see out of my left eye?"

"I guess so... but about my... situation?"

"There's a.... some clothes in back... I uh... I was supposed to... " his voice broke as he remembered the night they planned the trip in detail and then packed their bags. Choking back the pain of loss, he switched directions and asked her a pertinent question, "What size do you wear?"

She hesitated for a moment at the personal query, but realized she needed to answer if she were going to get some new garments, "Six...."

"Good... there are some things in a suitcase back there.. it's the one with the paisley design... you should be able to find something to suit your style." At least someone could get some use out of them.

Without a word, Marlena nodded and then climbed out of the vehicle and cautiously went around to the back, careful to hold her blouse together in front. She found the suitcase he mentioned easily and began searching its contents, not finding too many things to her liking. Finally, she found a floral sweater and black pants that she could feel comfortable wearing. As she went to close the door, she noticed the tag on the luggage, Gina Von Amburg. These were her clothes... So, even if they weren't in love... at the very least, they were planning a trip of some sort, and something went terribly wrong.

"Uh... John... did you want me to find you a clean shirt and pants?"

He wanted to say no, that he was going to get up and come around back to retrieve them for himself, but he couldn't. The fact was that John was much too weak and dizzy at the moment to do anything of the sort. "Uh... alright... sure, go ahead... since you're back there already."

The other bag was black. Opening it up, she quickly rifled through it to find him a white t-shirt and jeans, but as she reached down inside, her hand brushed against something, a bag of some sort. It was dark, made of velvet or something like it. Shaking it slightly, she knew what was inside it. There were jewels in that black bag. So that was it... he must have been involved in a theft...presumably so had this Gina person. Wasting no more time, she put the bag back exactly where she'd found it and zipped up the duffel, saying, "I've got some black jeans and a white shirt... is that okay?"

There was no response... "John.... did you hear me?" Still nothing.

She stepped around to the front of the vehicle, seeing that he was asleep again. 'More like unconscious, Marlena... in addition to the other wound, he probably has a concussion now... he needs a hospital...' she told herself.

Standing there looking at him through the open window, she knew what else she should do, but her heart wouldn't go along with her mind which spoke to her. 'And you are crazy for even caring about him at all....Run, Marlena.... just go into the ladies room and change clothes... and then run away from this man, as fast and as far away as you can go.'

As the internal debate raged on, she decided she could make up her mind later, and might as well find a place to change clothes. She quickly spotted a huge tree, with a truck parked nearby... forming the perfect shelter. In a matter of a minute or two, she felt almost like a new woman, the sweater and pants flattering her shapely curves rather nicely.

Stepping out from behind the tree, her eyes went immediately toward the vehicle in which John rested. A Paris policeman was fast approaching the driver's side. If he took one good look at the man slumped over against the passenger side door, Marlena knew that he would call for an ambulance, and John would be carted off to a hospital, his belongings taken and searched. Then he would likely be arrested and sent off to jail when he was physically healthy enough to endure prison life. This was her best chance to get away from him, to be free. All she had to do was stand there and let nature take its course. After all, her conscience was clear. She had helped him in his time of great need and then he repaid the favor when he came to her aid. They were even.... and she should be able to leave him to his fate.

So why did the thought of him being taken off to jail upset her so? What was it about this man that touched her heart? Why couldn't she just turn and walk away, go back to her hotel room, pack up her things and move on? What was stopping her?

Without further contemplation, she rushed over toward the Land Rover, preparing to distract the policeman. Speaking anxiously, she acted like a lost tourist who needed directions to every major tourist attraction, stammering, asking question after question... whatever came to mind.

Before long, the poor besieged man gave up and hurried off to his vehicle, stating his need to get back on the job of catching criminals. He was more than glad to escape the endless questioning by the irritating woman, and probably never gave a second's thought to the black Land Rover. She watched him drive off, managing to hold back the laughter until well after he was gone.

"What's so funny..... " said a weak voice she didn't expect to hear for awhile yet.

"Oh, welcome back... I uh.... I just bored a policeman to death... he couldn't get away fast enough."

"What a fool.... "

Thinking he meant her, her hurt feelings were evident in her tone, "Me?"

"No, the policeman..." he said, while struggling to sit up again, but failing miserably.

His compliment was so unexpected it made her blush. "Oh... "

There was an awkward silence as John put it together, while she went back around to the driver side door and climbed in. Finally, he worked up the courage to ask, "Are you saying that there was a French policeman snooping around here... and you... got rid of him?"

"Yes... I did," she said, rather proudly, not quite understanding why she felt that way.

Shocked that anyone would do something so completely selfless like that for him, his eyes searched hers, "Pardon me, but why would you do that? It was the perfect chance for you to get away from me, with no risk to you. And you didn't take it? Why?"

She shrugged her shoulders and made a face, puzzled by her own actions, "I'm not sure, really.... I guess I don't want to see my patient carted off to jail when he still needs good care."

Finding himself strangely disappointed, his face fell. "Oh... your patient... so that's what it is...your physician's oath... " he said, not quite believing her, yet not knowing what he expected from her either. 'How could it be anything else, John... you were holding her hostage!'

"Something like that, yes...." she said, cognizant that it was essentially a lie. There was much more to it than that. It was something elemental, some quality he possessed which drew her to him. She couldn't define her reaction with words, it was more like an intuitive sense she had about him. Whatever it was, she couldn't bring herself to leave him to the mercy of the fates.

Their eyes met, wondering if there were some unseen forces at work, but they said nothing more about it. It would go unspoken for now, as they went about the business at hand.

"Now.... let's say we get you cleaned up..." she said with a warmth that hadn't been present before. "I'll be right back... I'll just go get this wet and then I'll take a look at that latest wound." She was referring to her torn blouse. It was useless as a shirt, might as well use it for something else.

Nodding his aching head, John turned to look at her again, admiring her beauty, her grace, and her strength, at the same time laboring to discern her true perspective where he was concerned. "Okay...I'm not going anywhere...." he finally said, closing his right eye and leaning back against the seat.

A thought occurred while she was gone, as his right hand found his weapon next to him on the seat. The woman wasn't his hostage any more. She was with him because she chose to be, because she wanted to be. What did that mean? And how in the hell did it happen? He struggled to stay with those questions, to find some answers, to make sense of what was transpiring. But soon found himself growing increasingly weary, his body so in need of rest in order to recover. Despite his concerted effort to stay conscious, the darkness claimed him once again.....