She was furious, she wanted to be elsewhere. To be away from the accusing rogue and the Captain who held part of her heart, all of her loyalty and still wanted more than she could give. She wanted to rush through the howling storm letting its wrath feed on hers until she was beyond reason and caution. She wanted to be swept up into the emotions she could not let rule her. She wanted to drag Jax along with her and do something she was certain she would regret but could blame on the storm. Something she ached for and was terrified to want as badly as she did. 

But Jax stopped her, not with his beautiful body, the sight of which seemed to always stop her. No he stopped her with something she had not expected to find with him. Reason and then kindness. She hadn’t realized she was cold until he swung the blanket around her shoulders. The sudden cessation of cold on her wet clothing made her shudder in relief. She looked up at him, making her eyes pull from his own wet clothing that lined his chest so deliciously to his face, suddenly conscious of how bedraggled and numb she was. She pushed her hair back from her face, the back of her graceful hand running along her ruined cheek on its way down. Heading out into the storm was stupid. Even furious she could not deny that. 

“You are right.” She said. “We will wait it out.” 

Were they alone she knew she would lift the blanket and ask him in. He was as wet as she, but she held her tongue, they were not alone and she would not let her guard down, even in such a small way with someone who had threatened her life. She would not dismiss the threat. But he was cold and she was not going to find her way back to reason if he kept standing about in wet clothing that clung to him. 
	
“Perhaps the Captain can spare you a change of clothes.” She said, her honeyed voice tired and defeated. “As your Doctor I cannot let you stand around in wet clothing. You will catch ill and then where would we be?” She ached to touch him, to cup his unshaven chin, to run her thumb along his grinning mouth and let him see how grateful she was that he was unharmed. But she did not.

She did not look at the Captain because beside him stood his lady, she of the blade drawn across throats. Nicki was so tired, so done in, forgetting that in the battle the Captain wasn’t the only one wounded. But her body knew and as the cold began to dissipate and the numbness lifted she sagged and scowled at the growing ache in her shoulder from where the rancid mouth of the Siren had taken hold. Accompanying the ache and the spread of warmth was a spread of wet and dark across the blanket where it pressed against her shoulder.