“I don’t mind waiting,” Liam said.
He went to sit on the only available chair in the small medical room, aware of Oliver’s gaze on him. When Liam raised his head to meet Oliver’s eyes, he was struck by how tired the other man looked. He wasn’t dressed in the medical scrubs used for full regen treatment. Whatever bruises he had sustained during the fight and in the crash had been healed to new skin and muscle by way of quick-heal patches.
But Oliver was alive, even if he looked like he could do with a kip and a good meal. Regen was never easy to endure. Healing took energy they didn’t have enough of some days. Liam half thought about inviting Oliver to the team dinner just so he’d be certain the other man would get fed, but then thought better of it. Liam’s team and Oliver weren’t close. Hell, he and Oliver weren’t close.
For all of Liam’s weak efforts to reach out to Oliver, he knew nothing would come of it. There was too much past between them to make their future easy, but Liam felt he owed it to Oliver to try.
Which was why he stayed.
They didn’t speak, and Bailey’s aide watched them in a way that made Liam’s skin crawl. He’d lived his entire life walking in the spotlight, with thousands of eyes on his every move. He knew how to present himself as relaxed and unbothered, which was the attitude he gave off for the remainder of his time in MI6.
Before the hour was up, a doctor came in to undo the portable regen machine wrapped around Oliver’s arm. The skin there, once revealed, looked pink and new. The area where the bone had torn through skin and muscle had been made whole again, healed up within hours instead of weeks. The nanites had done their job. The doctor ran Oliver through a couple of stretches to test his range of motion before signing off on his discharge from their care.
“Take it easy for the next twenty-four hours,” the doctor told him.
Oliver made a noncommittal sound, his opinion on that happening writ clear across his face. Liam ducked his head a little and smiled at the floor rather than the room at large. He was well aware of that sort of attitude from his own time spent beneath the watchful eyes and helpful hands of the UMG medical staff. The doctors who’d been kind enough to patch him up over the years all despaired of Liam ever taking it easy.
“Shall we be off?” Liam asked as he stood.
“My home is out of the way for you,” Oliver warned him.
“You live in London. You can never be out of my way.”
Whatever further excuses Oliver might’ve tried to come up with died on his tongue. Liam rather thought it was the exhaustion finally catching up to him. The fight and then the train crash, paired with the regen, had pushed Oliver’s body until it hit a wall. Liam was familiar with that sort of tiredness, though it took a bit more for him to reach it since he was a metahuman. He knew Oliver wasn’t in any shape to drive, and a taxi would be ridiculously expensive in the traffic right now.
Bailey’s aide escorted them up to the ground level and watched them leave through the lobby doors. Liam never looked back at her, matching his stride to Oliver’s shorter one, keeping pace with the tired agent.
“You do realize MI6 has a car park, don’t you?” Oliver asked in exasperation as he realized where Liam had parked.
Liam pulled his code-keys out of his pocket and shrugged carelessly. “Perks of being a UMG agent and royalty. We can park wherever we want.”
“I think you mean perks of being an arsehole.”
Liam barked out a laugh, opening the passenger door for Oliver. “You wouldn’t be the first to think that.”
“That’s not something to be proud about.”
Liam had to hold himself back from helping Oliver into the car. He knew if he tried, he’d get thoroughly insulted, and the drive to Oliver’s home was already going to be long. Liam made sure Oliver was situated before closing the door. He went around to the driver’s side and got in, starting the engine.
“Do you even know where I live?” Oliver asked.
“If you’re asking if I’ve spied on you, then the answer is no. I’ve only read the dossier the UMG has on you, and that didn’t include personal information beyond your family.”
Which was a bit of a lie, though Oliver didn’t need to know. In the grand scheme of things, Liamdidn’tknow where he lived, even if the UMG did.
Oliver heaved out a sigh. “Primrose Hill.”
Liam mentally calculated the route. It was out of his way, but he didn’t care. The mess in the streets was enough to give Liam a headache, and he knew it would be worse for Oliver if he was the one behind the wheel.
“We’ll cross over Waterloo Bridge rather than Vauxhall Bridge. You can enter your address in the computer whenever you’re ready.”
Oliver did as asked a minute later. The route popped up on the small screen, many of the streets shaded red. Weekend traffic was always terrible, but tonight it was worse than usual.
“Do you like music?” Liam asked as he pulled into the street.
Oliver stared out the window rather than looking at him. “It’s your car.”
“Yes, but I’m driving. Find something you’d like to listen to. I don’t mind. It’s either that or silence, which I can fill if you like.”
