The next day, Monday evening after classes, Clarissa sat on a picnic blanket, leaning back against one of the trees, Adam next to her, a book open in his lap.

They had been like that for a couple of hours, drinks between them, books and music open and playing. Charlotte had arrived home an hour before but hadn't joined them, stating that she wanted a 'mega-bath' - should could last up to three hours.

The pair hadn't had time for just each other for a few months now and it was good to finally catch up - even if their catch up was more just being close rather than actually talking.

"How's your wrist?"

The question, breaking the silence, made Clarissa blink and she looked around. Adam hadn't looked up from his book and just changed the page as he waited for an answer.

"It's alright," she said, looking at her left wrist which was covered by a long flowing sleeve.

"Jason said there was a pretty nasty looking bruise there."

"Yeah but it doesn't hurt."

"No?"

"No."

Adam fell quiet again, turning another page and settling the book on his lap. An arm slid around the back of her then and he pulled her against him, hugging her tightly, pressing his face into her hair.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Just want a hug," he muttered and Clarissa then felt him shift as he noticed someone. He the one arm up into the air and shouted to get their attention. "Hey! Damien!"

Clarissa looked around and spotted Damien on the ground floor walkway, talking to Suzy. He looked around at his name, automatically waving a hand in reply then paused, his eyes locking on Clarissa.

They looked at each other for a moment, then he turned back to Suzy.

Clarissa looked down. He must have been so irritated. Ok, it wasn't like she'd been the one to throw the punch but it had been her boyfriend so she felt part way responsible. She'd have to talk to him, to apologise when she could. Chances were he wouldn't be asking for her to help with the aftermaths of any 'jobs' from now on though. Maybe that was why he was talking to Suzy, her being in medicine any everything.

A shadow fell across her and she looked up just as a hand settled on the back of her head.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Damien stood behind her, bending towards her, one hand in his pocket, the other gently stroking her hair.

"Are you ok?" he asked just as Adam stood up.

"I'm going to check in on Charlotte," he said, stretching and gathering his books. He grinned. "Maybe she'll let me in the tub with her."

Damien laughed slightly as Adam walked past, clapping Damien's shoulder.

"Keep my baby-girl company for a while, won't you?" he said as he walked away.

"Sure," Damien said as he stepped over Clarissa and dropped onto the blanket beside her, leaning back against the tree trunk and picking up one of her books.

Clarissa glanced at him as he opened the book and leant back, flicking through until he was at the beginning.

She couldn't see the bruise Brett could have caused, his jaw was already a little too battered. But a punch on top of all that pervious damage, it must have killed.

"You're staring," Damien said and she blinked. He looked at her then grinned. "I know I'm handsome but wait until I'm all healed up before you stare."

"I'm not staring," she said, frowning at him.

"What are you doing then?"

"I'm sorry."

"For?"

"For Brett. I'm sorry he hit you, it was uncalled for."

Damien's brow lowered and he set the book down, looking directly at her. "Why are you apologising?"

"Because he hit you," Clarissa said, confusion clouding her features, "Why else?"

"Did you hit me?"

"What?"

"Were you the one to hit me?"

"What are you talking about? No."

"Then why are you apologising?"

"Well... he's my boyfriend and-"

"I don't care who he is. You didn't hit me, you don't apologise. Brett Cole is a full grown adult male, if he can't apologise for his own screw-ups, he doesn't get the privilege of someone doing it for him. That's a privilege reserved for children and adults on exception. Brett isn't the expectation this time." He leant back, rubbing his head, his mouth twisted in an irritated frown.

Clarissa looked down, pulling her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around the thighs and suddenly Damien's hand settled on the back of her head, gently stroking her hair.

"Yeah, there's nothing to apologise for," he muttered, closing his eyes.

"Does it hurt?"

"Hmm?"

"The punch? Where he punched you? Does it hurt?" she asked and Damien surprised her by snorting with laughter.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked, opening his eyes and looking at her. He pointed to his jaw where it should have bruised, but there wasn't anything there. "Violet throws a tougher punch." He chuckled, shaking his head as he leant back again, bending on knee up and dropping his arm on it. "It was more surprise than anything else. I didn't think he'd do something like that while you were right between us. What if you'd been hurt?"

"You certainly looked ready to kill him," Clarissa said, "is that the whole 'alpha male' thing I've heard about?"

Damien chuckled slightly. "Yeah, I guess so; he just pissed me off though, and would have done so any other day."

"What did Dante mean, by the way?"

"About what?"

"About Damien being a 'spectator' and a 'civilian'?"

"Oh that."

"Yeah, that."

"Hmm..." Damien thought about it for a while, watching the other side of the courtyard where Darcy and Violet had appeared, spreading out a blanket for a tea party.

Clarissa elbowed him and he jumped.

"Damien," she said, leaning forwards, "Why is this such a big secret? Brett wasn't right, was he? It's not an underground fight club or something, is it?"

Damien grinned at her. "C'mon, Clarissa, don't you know the first rule of Fight Club?"

"There is no Fight Club," they said at the same time and laughed slightly, then Damien shook his head.

"It's not some underground fight club. Those are illegal and I told you, I'm not doing anything illegal."

"Then why the big mystery?!"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just not proud of where I am with everything at the moment... I kind of... crashed and burned recently and didn't recover." He smiled slightly. "Guess I just don't want to look like an idiot in front of you if you knew."

"So if you get better you'll tell me?"

"I'll tell you."

"Then get better," she ordered and smacked his thigh, making him jolt then laugh. "Jeez," she sighed, running a hand through her own hair and suddenly Damien's hand came forwards, catching her fingers in a feather-light grip and pulled her hand towards him. "What?" she asked, looking around just as he pushed her sleeve away from her wrist. She jerked it back. She'd forgotten about it.

"What happened?" he asked, reaching for her wrist again.

"Nothing, just an accident."

"Looks painful."

"Looks worse than it is."

"Was it Brett?"

"I told you, just an accident."

Damien was quiet and Clarissa tried to pull her hand back again. His grip tightened.

"Damien."

"Have you iced it?" he asked, his thumb gently stroking the back of her fingers.

"Um... no, it doesn't hurt so-ow!"

Damien twisted her wrist, just slightly, and gently and a nerve protested dramatically. She glared at him and he stood up.

"Come on then," he said, picking up all her stuff, shifting it to one arm and holding a hand out.

"Come on where?" she asked, taking his hand and pulling herself up. He reached past her and took the blanket, shaking it out and walked off with everything. "Damien!" she called, running after him taking the blanket so she was at least carrying something, folding it up as they made their way back up to their floor and into Damien's apartment.

Deacon bounded over to them as they walked in, bypassed Damien's hand and pushed his hand into Clarissa's

"You traitorous hairball," Damien said, frowning over his shoulder at Deacon as he set the books on the kitchen counter. "Gets to know a pretty girl and suddenly I'm not good enough. Sheesh."

Clarissa snorted as he walked over to the sofa and sat down while Damien walked into his bedroom and Deacon took up residence on her lap.

"Right, here we are," Damien said, coming back a moment later and dropping down beside her, resting on leg up on the sofa and turning to her, shooing Deacon aside and holding out a hand for her hand.

"What do you have?" she asked, holding out a hand.

"A heat pack," he replied, settling her hand on his thigh and unwrapped what looked like a thick bandage with sticky edges. "Where was the pain when I moved it?"

"Here," she said, pointing and he stuck it in place. Then he pulled out a bandage and carefully wrapped it so it stayed firmly in place. "I think you're overreacting," she said as he finished, tying off the end of the bandage.

"What's a computer girl to do if her hand hurts when she uses a computer?" Damien asked with a grin and Clarissa raised an eyebrow at him.

"How long do I have to wear this?" she asked, looking back at the bandage. "I have a party on Thursday and-"

"Just wear it tonight," Damien said, "It's should just be a small sprain. Be gentle on it and it'll go away."

Clarissa looked at the bandage for a moment as Damien leant back, scratching Deacon between the ears.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"No problem. You've looked after me so far, what kind of guy would I be if I didn't return the favour?" His eyes travelled from her face, back down the wrist as he spoke, quiet for a while as he just looked at it. "Clarissa, about your wrist-"

"It really was just an accident," she said, turning and sitting back, "You're right, it was Brett but it only happened because he took my wrist and I'm sure I twisted it weirdly as he did so."

Damien looked away, leaning his head back.

Silence fell around them. Deacon got bored of them not paying attention to either him or each other and wandered off into the second bedroom.

"Are we friends?"

"Huh?" Clarissa looked around, surprised by the sudden question.

"Are we friends?"

"I... yes? I mean, I hope so... are we?"

Damien smiled slightly and dropped his head to the side to look at her. "I think we're friends," he said, "And since you've looked out for me twice now, I'd consider you a good friend. I've known people for over ten years who haven't looked after me after those jobs. So I'd consider you a good friend. Do you think the same?"

Clarissa stared at him for a moment, then smiled brightly. "Yeah, I think we're friends," she said.

"Good friends?"

"Good friends."

"Then, as a good friend, can I tell you something that might over steps the boundaries?" Damien asked, his face growing cold and serious.

Clarissa looked at him, taking in the shift in expression. It wasn't one she was used to. "You're going to tell me you don't like Brett, aren't you?"

Damien raised an eyebrow. "Quite the mind reader," he said and Clarissa chuckled slightly.

"One of my many tricks," she replied, looking away, curling up against the corner of the sofa, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Don't worry," she said, "you didn't overstep any boundaries saying that... not many of my good friends do like him."

"Yeah but I hate him."

Clarissa looked at Damien who was looking straight ahead towards the black screen of the TV - eyes distance, brow lowered.

"Sorry, he's not going to be a man I ever get along with," he continued, "He doesn't have an attitude I care for and I don't like the way he treats you."

"He treats me just fine," Clarissa said quickly and Damien looked at her. "Really, he does. You just haven't seen it yet. When we're alone together he's like a totally different person."

Damien just continued to look at her with sharp, watchful eyes. "Of course he is," he muttered before getting up and calling Deacon for dinner.

~~~~~~~

Next Up: thursday

Art/Music By: Love Me Like You Do by Ellie Goulding