Beka's POV:

I plopped on my bed, staring vacantly at the ceiling. I could feel a new bruise forming on my right cheekbone, and another on my knee. My and my Dogs had been caught in another bar fight. At least I had come out better then last time.

There was the sound of a crash from downstairs. I jumped to my feet, rushing for the door. I looked down the staircase and saw Rosto leaning heavily on the guardrail.

I rushed down the staircase, cursing that neither Kora or Aniki were in right now. When I reached Rosto, I looked in his eyes and asked softly, "Have you been drinking?"

He shook his head, teeth gritted. He glared at me and muttered, "I'm fine. Just go…feed you pigeons or something."

I propped my hands on my hips, prepared to tell him exactly what I thought of that behavior, when I noticed the red staining through his white shirt. I looked up and also noticed how much paler he was then usual, feeling something constrict in my chest. I threw an arm around his shoulders, letting him lean on me as I walked him back to his room.

"What happened?" I whispered, trying to take his mind off the pain of walking.

He took the bait, saying, "Dawull challenged me for the position of Rogue." He grinned, continuing, "Traditionally, it was a fight to the death before the Court. He has more then a scratch like this. I'm going to have to find another chief for Waterfront."

By this time we had reached the bed in his room. I helped lower him onto the bed, keeping him in a sitting position for now.

"Can you—um—take off your shirt, please? I need to see the wound. Or, at least, whatever thin rag you wrapped it in before coming here." He mock-glared at me, pouting a little. In one swift movement, he tore off his shirt, revealing a very red rag. I propped my hands on my hips, demanding, "Did you come here right after you defeated Dawull, or did you wait a while?"

He looked sheepishly down, muttering, "I needed to finish some loose ends. I didn't think it was that bad."

"Coves," I muttered, carefully untying the rag. I looked at the wound, and how it crossed his chest. I tried to ignore how muscular he was, instead focusing on cleaning away the blood with a wet rag I found.

Once the blood was cleared away, I went into Kora's room and got some potions. When I returned, I saw Rosto staring up at the ceiling. I carefully took out the cork on one potion, and, leaning down towards Rosto, poured it slowly and evenly on the cut. It made a hissing sound on contact, and immediatetly began sparking with Kora's Gift.

I saw Rosto wince as sweat collected on his forehead, and I felt my chest constrict again. I knew how much this hurt, but it was necessary to disinfect the wound.

I made calming noises, and gently ran my fingers through his hair. It was the exact same way my mother used to comfort me when I was in pain.

I continued this, not noticing how much effect it had on Rosto. He calmed down immediately, looking at me with a strange expression. When the sparks died down, I gently wiped away the potion with my rag.

As I was applying a thick healing paste, Rosto finally muttered, "I didn't know you cared."

I stopped, looking up at him. "You were wrong," I said simply, before resuming my work. A comfortable silence settled between us.

I went and retrieved a bandage, bringing it back to the room. I told Rosto to sit up, gently guiding him as he did so. The whole time he still looked at me with an unreadable expression on his face. As I began to wrap the bandage around his torso, I blushed slightly when I had to lean really close to get it around his back. Finally, I was done. I cut the bandage, satisfied with my work.

Rosto looked up at me, muttering, "Looks like we have a healer in the house."

I blushed, saying, "Not really. I'm just good at tying bandages."

He put his shirt back on, shrugging it on his shoulders. I stood, dusting off my pants. When I turned to go, he grabbed my hand, pulling me back. "Wait!" He said.

When I faced him, I raised my eyebrow. He smiled, saying, "I never thanked you."

I knew where this was going, somehow. I started to protest, but, to be honest, didn't fight that hard. He pulled me in, kissing me soundly. When he broke away, he whispered in my ear, "Thanks."

I didn't say anything. Maybe being with him wouldn't be so bad. For a rusher, he's honest. And he cares about the people of the Lower City. And, apparently, he cares about me.

He smiled at me, and only me, saying, "What, no speech on how you're not my doxie? No insults about how white my hair is?"

I grinned, leaning up and kissing him. "That's for next time. I'm letting you get away with it just this once. You're probably still in pain or something, and it's making you act differently."

"No," he said, smile gone. "I know exactly what I'm doing, Beka. I care about you, more then I'm used to caring about mots."

"Oh, and know you expect me to drop to my knees and praise Mithros that you care about me just a little more?" I broke from his grasp, not even entirely sure why I was so angry.

I heard a sigh, before he said, "I was trying to say, 'I love you', in the most manly way I could think of."

I turned to look at him, and saw he was serious. I smiled, saying, "Well, then, I 'care about you more then I'm used to caring about coves'. Manly enough for you?"

He grinned, kissing me again. I relished the moment, not even sure why I was letting this all happen. I guess I cared a lot more about Rosto then I had ever thought before.

When he pulled back, he whispered, "Yes. But 'I love you too', will do just fine."

I grinned, before looking at him seriously and whispering, "I love you too."

Author's Note:

Awww! Just a one-shot I've had in my head for a while. I think it's pretty cute, but I'm still a little dizzy. 

Thanks again to all my reviewers, I really, really, appreciate all of your reviews!

Padfoot