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Rapunzel was watching Alex sleep again. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. She had been babying him since they'd gotten back to the bar, and thanking God silently during every moment of it that he was around to baby. Tears welled again at the thought of how close he had come to not coming back at all.

They had been brought back to the bar by Cait, and dumped somewhat unceremoniously through the door; Rapunzel had been in a daze. Alex had passed out soon after returning, and so she had enlisted the help of a kind red haired witch who levitated him gently up to her room. He had never even stirred Rapunzel had undressed him and cleaned him up as best she could.

He was still sleeping, but she was sure it was just sleep now, and not something more sinister.

She brushed a lock of hair off of his forehead, and leaned down to kiss it.

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"I meant it about Paris, ladylove. We can afford it. We deserve it." He slowly pushes himself off the bed. It hurts, but not very much.

"But I'm staying here until those kids don't ask any questions about why I'm limping or need a cane." And he does, though he's gamely pretending he can walk without one for a moment.

She smiles and shakes her head.

"You'll be up and about in no time. And if anyone asks why you're limping and grin at them and say it's my fault."

"Paris sounds nice, but it's just being alone with you that's the real treat."

He just keeps smiling. This, he notes, is how it should be, and heck with the pain in his leg.

"You are incorrigable, you know that?" He looks for his clothes, even as a thought occurs to him.

"Raps, how are you doing? Since we got back, I mean."

She sobers a little. "I'm doing better, now that you're doing better. I was so worried about you, I haven't had time to worry much else. I think I'm all right."

She finds his clothes for him, and begins helping him get dressed.

"I don't think I've gotten much sleep, but that's something I can catch up on."

"I have an idea," he says a bit quietly. "Let me do a little worrying about you? And a little taking care of you? I think that what you're supposed to do when you love someone."

She pauses in handing him a cheerful Hawaiian shirt, her eyes filling a little again.

"I promise the next time I get shot, you can take as much care of me as you want."

She puts a hand to his cheek.

"We're quite a pair."

"Aren't we?" He smiles, but sees the tears. Wow, he thinks, she really does love me that much. Wow.

"But I have much better idea. How about neither of us ever get shot again? And we take care of each other anyway?"

He buttons his shirt and then slowly puts on his pants and shoes. This is the hard part, and even with the bandage over the wound, it hurts.

"That sounds like the best plan, yet."

She kneels down in front of him, shooing his hands away and helping him with his shoes.

Shew walks to the corner and retrieves an impressively carved cane/walking stick.

"I got this from the bar earlier. We'll take the elevator down, too."

"There's an elevator?" Well, of course there would be, but he's never thought about it.

He studies the walking stick. "Oooh, nice. All I need is a bowler hat and I can be just like John Steed. Only you are prettier than even Emma Peel." That's how much in love he is. He's forgotten even his boyhood crush.(And should he ever chance to meet Ms. Peel in the Bar, he might go all fanboy, but Emma will just have to get over her disappointment that he's off the market.)

"Shall we get some breakfast, my love?"

She grins at him, and take is other arm, in case he needs to lean a bit.

"Let's."

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