Chapter 19 -- I Must Have Dreamed A Thousand Dreams

A/N: Still in PG-13 land. I suspect everything from here on out may be a strong R, or worse. You have been warned...



oh lordy,
trouble so hard
oh lordy,
trouble so hard,
don't nobody know
my troubles but God

Moby - Natural Blues

Chapter 19 -- I Must Have Dreamed A Thousand Dreams

Rafe pulled Mara more tightly into his arms. They stood in silence, taking comfort in each other's presence.

They broke apart, and turned toward the door when they heard the key in the door. The Assassin stepped into the room with the promised first aid kit. "I'll be back with some food for you later." With that, he left.

"That's it?? A stupid first aid kit and a promise of food! How long have you been up here? What's...?" Mara sputtered.

"Shh. I've been up here about three days."

"Why did they kidnap you? Why in God's name did they beat you?"

"Don Lombardo seems to think I know something about the whereabouts of his son, Giancarlo."

"Who is this mystery son? Kevin seemed to think that Lombardo was after you for something, but nobody knew what. I've had a crash course in everything you've written in the past five years, Lombardo AND the Chicago Outfit. I don't remember any mention of the man having a son or any offspring."

"Maybe he's trying to protect The Outfit from Giancarlo's extrafamilial activities."

Mara raised an eyebrow at Rafe, "So?"

"Young Giancarlo is interested in more adventuresome activities than the usual run of the mill racketeering, blackmail and embezzlement -- the white collar crimes The Outfit usually indulges in. He's into robbing banks, and perhaps drugs as well."

"So what do you have to do with this...family feud?"

"Let me go back a bit. I need to tell you what I know. We can compare notes then, and see if we can make any more sense of this mess."

"Let me take care of you first, while there's still daylight. There's a fixture up there, but no light bulb, so I suspect it must get pretty dark?"

"Yes. The only room with a working light in this...apartment, or whatever it was is in the bathroom. I'd probably not look so frightful, because there is running water. However there's no mirror, and I was concerned about doing more damage. I can't tell if there's a cut mixed in with my shiner, and..."

Mara put her hand up to his mouth and smiled, "You're starting to sound like me when I get nervous. Come. Show me where this lovely dee-luxe bathroom is in this suite. Let's clean you up a bit and then we can sort through what's going on."

He took her hand and lead her to one of the doors along the walls of the room. "This is the only one that opens. I don't know what's in the rest of them, if anything. All the other doors are locked." He opened the bathroom door and flipped on the light.

What may have at one time been an opulent bathroom was illuminated. Tiled in a soft aqua with matching sink and toilet, Mara saw. "That is such a gorgeous color. And it looks like real ceramic tile, none of that faux plastic stuff. Nice." She commented when she saw the spot where a bathtub presumably had stood. All that was left was a capped drain in the floor and two capped pipes. "Guess the tub musta been something, if it was taken out so neatly."

Rafe chuckled. "I had a feeling when I saw the color scheme for this room, that you'd covet it. What is it about you and that shade anyway?"

"You must think I'm incredibly silly, drooling over the bathroom where we're being held as...prisoners? or whatevers? Kidnapees? No, that would be just you, I came of my own free will."

"Jesus, Mara! You're nuts!"

"Yes, I know. And probably certifiable. I'm adding to your worries by being here, but when Mr. Anonymous Assassin told me he knew where you were, I could NOT not go with him."

She ran the water in the sink for a few minutes, and pulled the knob to shut the drain, letting the sink fill. "Wow, I'm surprised. This water is actually hot. Wonder where they've got the water heater stashed?"

"Aren't we lucky? All the comforts of home," Rafe interjected with false sincerity.

"Come in here." She grabbed a wash cloth off the towel rack. "Hey, nice towels, too!"

"How hot is that water?"

"Not too hot, I'm a wuss when it comes to hot water, at least for bathing or washing my hands. I make the exception for washing dishes, of course, as well you know," she mock-boasted.

"Yeah, and that tepid stuff you call coffee. How you can drink it after it's been sitting there and cold..."

"I thought iced coffee was trendy! Now, enough chatter, come here!" She took him by the hand and pulled him into the bathroom. Putting the lid down on the toilet, she said, "Sit. You're too tall for me to reach up. I wonder if there's anything antibacterial in that first aid kit I can add to this water, though it does smell nice and chlorine-filled. Chicago water, amazing stuff, you can drink AND swim in it. Can you tip your head back a bit?" She smoothed his long dark hair off his face, securing it in back with a rubber band.

She looked through the kit and saw it was a fairly standard kit. Though there were some unexpected additions, the most notable being the 3 inch wide surgical tape and way too much gauze for the average kit.

Mara pulled out the roll of tape and its twin. "Good. We can use this to tape your ribs just in case there's anything broken and not just bruised. It will be easier for you to breath."
She put them back into the box. Riffling around the case some more, she found an antibacterial ointment as well as liquid antibacterial soap. She put the ointment on the side of the sink, and added some of the liquid soap to the water in the sink, swirling it around with her washcloth.

Wringing most of the water out of the washcloth, she started cleaning the blood off Rafe's face. He flinched a little when she cleaned the cut made by Lombardo's ring. Other than that, he kept his face blank. When she was done with the washcloth, she dabbed some of the ointment on the cuts, and covered up the ones on his cheeks with the small butterfly bandages she found. "That one cut is kinda deep. I hope it won't scar."

Rafe gave her a lopsided grin. "It'll just give my face more character."

"Oh, you've plenty enough character without that! There," she put on the last bandaid. "I really can't do much about the cut in the corner of your mouth, or the small one on your lower lip..."

"You can kiss it better..."

Mara giggled and complied, planting a chaste kiss on his upturned face. "Now, off with that shirt..."

"Wow, one kiss and you're ripping off my clothes? Whatever happened to foreplay?"

"I thought guys weren't all that much into foreplay," she quipped in return.

"This one is! I am not one of those wholly penile focused types who think sex is all about intercourse, I'll have you know."

She blushed as she looked him in the eye. "I do know," she murmured, surprised at the warmth she felt building in her lower belly. "Now, off with that shirt," she ordered again, to distract herself.

And was distraught to see the bruising on Rafe's torso. "Holy Mary, Mother of God. Did they go at you with a crowbar or something. My God!"

"No, nothing that forceful. Just fists. Oh, yeah and one guy got a good kick in, but other than that, it was pretty traditional. Now hurry up and tape my ribs, woman, I would like to be able to draw a deep breath with minimal pain."

Mara looked at him, horrified for him, for what he had been through. She gently ran her hand over the worst bruise that she could see. "Is this the extent of it? Or...?" she lowered her gaze down his torso significantly.

"No, they were kind, they didn't harm the family jewels. They were more interested in me talking than puking my guts out on their shoes."

Mara shuddered, her face flinching up in sympathy. "Please stand up. Can you raise your arms up to about shoulder level?" He complied and she taped up his ribs, running her hands over her handiwork when she was done.

"Hey, that tickles," protested Rafe.

She drew back, "Okay, I won't make you laugh, you might not enjoy the experience at the moment."

"No, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't. Thank you for your help." He pulled her close into a warm hug.

The door leading to the hallway rattled again, this time with Mr. Assassin returning with pop, hamburgers and french fries. Mara and Rafe had moved out of the bathroom to watch as he set the bags of food down in the same spot where he had put down the first aid kit. He turned to one of the guards and retrieved another sleeping bag and a pillow.

"I see how you rate. You get a pillow," Rafe murmured in Mara's ear, closely watching the man all the while. The man left as quietly as he had come in, with a pleasant smile for Rafe and a half-bow in Mara's direction. The door closed behind him, and was locked.

"Well, Rafe, our picnic awaits." She opened up the sleeping bag and spread it on the floor. She gestured to Rafe to have a seat as she eased her shoes off. As she sat down she saw that Rafe was sitting, with his shoes on, and his feet on the floor rather than the bag. "Would you rather I kept my shoes on?" Mara asked.

"I've been keeping mine on, just in case there might have been a chance to escape. Hasn't done me any good, though." He shrugged and toed off his shoes as well, turning more fully onto the sleeping bag cum table cloth.

Mara was busy parceling out the food. "They have fed you prior to this, right?"

"Yes they've been feeding me. One night I even dined on Taco Bell. It's been pretty much two meals a day, one for lunch and one for dinner. I keep wishing they'd bring some good coffee, but maybe they're worried I'd throw it at them and scald my way out of here. Then they'd probably sue me and whatever restaurant of finer dining they procured the coffee from for damages."

"Maybe I can talk them into some coffee tomorrow. It would be nice to have something warm to sip on. Or maybe I can talk them into tea bags and we can run the tap water hot enough to steep the tea..."

Rafe made a face at the last comment.

"Okay, so no tap water tea. How do you feel about warm water and a slice of lemon...?"

"Other than I'd probably be living in the bathroom from drinking a steady amount?"

"It is supposed to be good for your digestive system first thing in the morning. But I've found that coffee works just as well to get everything, er, moving, as it were."

"Why Mara, is that a folk remedy taught you by Miss, or was it Mrs.? Simonson or one of her cronies?"

"No, actually I read about it somewhere. I don't remember now. I think it might have been the Tribune the last time I was here in Chicago a few years back," she smirked.

"Touché," Rafe raised his right hand accepting the hit. "No more snotty comments about the resident storm lady. She was pretty damn accurate with that blizzard... Hey. What's wrong? What did I say?"

Mara's face had fallen at the mention of the blizzard. "No, you didn't say anything, I guess I was just remembering how cosy I was, we were," she amended, "All snug in bed while the weather did what it willed outside."

"You know, we could probaby recreate that experience here," Rafe said in a teasing voice.

She looked up at him in surprise. "Er, last time I checked, I didn't see a bed up here..."

"After we're done eating, I'll take a look and see if these two sleeping bags can be zipped together. That would be a lot more cozy than sleeping each in our own."

Mara felt her heart flutter, thinking about sleeping beside Rafe again. She then chided herself, he was hurt, they were kidnapped and here she was thinking about...

Rafe was watching her face. "Okay, what just ran through your head? I saw your eyes light up, and then dim. Sorry there's no mattress in here. They probably think I'd pull out one of the springs and pick that thrice damned lock or something."

"It wasn't that. I was just...thinking thoughts...inappropriate to the time and place." She blushed, and cursed her fair skin for giving her away like that.

He mock-leered at her. "And what is Ms. Pitts thinking of? Was she thinking of taking advantage of poor little old me?"

"Well, now that you mention it," she chuckled in response. "But that's not feasible, your ribs," she gestured at his torso and trailed off.

"Hmmm. Oh well. Hope springs eternal. Are you done with that?" He grabbed the now empty burger wrappers and fry envelopes and threw them back into the fast food bag. "I'd like to take a look and see if we can assemble our love nest here..."

Mara grinned at him, and shook her head. He continued to meet and pass her humor keeping both their spirits up in a dire situation.

Rafe stood up slowly, favoring his ribs.

"How's your leg?" asked Mara suddenly as she stood and stepped off the bag.

"Fine as far as I know. I haven't had a chance to see if it can predict weather yet, but you never know."

"To the best of my knowledge that only happens where there's a broken bone or arthritis or some other degenerative disease involved with the joints."

"Groovy. My ribs will be able to do forecasts. I'll be able to make twice as much money, both as a reporter and a meteorologist. Life is good!" He carried the sleeping bag over to his and managed to mate up the zippers of both bags, effectively creating a 'double bed.'

"Do you think you've a broken rib or two?"

"Probably. Could have sworn I felt something shifting every time I breathed too deeply or turned too suddenly. Great! This works," gesturing at the two sleeping bags, he disconnected them when he was certain Mara approved. "Here, wrap yourself up in this. I know you've got a jacket, but it gets kinda cold and damp up here after sunset."

"Where would you like to sit?" she asked. "I don't suppose there's anything that we could pretend was a heat register or radiator."

"Nope."

"I'd suggest we sit in the bathroom and run some hot tap water, enough to warm it up, but then we'd probably end up damp from the steam and it's already clammy enough in here. I'd forgotten how humid it here because of the lake."

"I've been sitting over here," he gestured towards the wall, next to the window. "So I could look outside and try to figure out where the hell I am. Well I know I'm someplace south side, look, you can see Navy Pier..." They sat and wrapped themselves up in the sleeping bags.

"Just like at Kevin and Lara's. You've seen their view, haven't you? It's gorgeous."

"So is that where you've been bunking up since you arrived in Chicago? When did you get in?"

"A couple of days ago. Lara and I had a long talk. Okay, she talked at me until I...spilled the beans about us. Then she invited me out here for an impromptu vacation. Only when I got into town, my favorite reporter had mysteriously disappeared, so that almost ruined my vacation..." she chortled half-heartedly.

"Lara knows? Good Lord, we'll never hear the end of it!"

"I hope it's okay? She'd make a hell of a good correspondent herself, the way she weaseled information out of me. I should have known she

"I'm not mad. I figured Kevin knew something was up when I showed up in Chicago looking a bit like death warmed over." He grabbed Mara's hand. "I think he thought I would be in better shape, but it's hard to be 100 percent when you've left your heart somewhere else." Bringing her hand up to his lips, he kissed it.

Mara felt the warmth of the kiss start warming her up all over again. He gently pulled on her hand, and she scooted closer to him in response. Putting his arm around her shoulders, he said, "So what do you think is going on? Or, let me rephrase that, what did you discover in your research?"

"Hmmm. First off, Mr. Moretti, I'm not hurting your ribs am I?" at his negative shake of head, she continued, "*you* are one hell of a writer. I knew you were good when you wrote those articles for the Prairiedog, but wow! That series of articles about gangs and drugs that seems to have landed us in this mess? That's Pulitzer material."

He looked surprised, "You really think so?"

"Okay, no false modesty here, you're a good writer, no, a great writer."

"I guess I never thought in terms of whether I was a good writer, it's more been a thing of polishing till the story shines."

"It shows. So what did you find out during your research on that?"

"I did comment on Giancarlo Lombardo, but it never dawned on me, I never put it together that Don Carlo was related. There're so many Lombardos and Morettis and Margaglianos around this town. I should have known better. Damn, I should have known."

"And so the Don kidnapped you because he thinks you know where Sonny-boy is? Aren't you happy he seems to have made the connection?" she asked, half teasingly?

They continued discussing the various possibilities and fretting over whether Giancarlo was at all findable, when Mara suddenly yawned largely.

Rafe grinned at her. "All right. It's bed time for Ms. Pitts," he announced, standing up and offering her a hand up.