La Bruja y el Asesino (The Witch and the Assassin)

By Vicki

The 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. shift at St. Joseph's Medical Center's orthopedic floor was just winding down when I heard a feminine shriek and accented curses from the end of the hospital corridor. All eyes turned to see the nearly hysterical nursing assistant run from room 634. Soapy water ran down the front of her uniform and I could hear her shoes squish from where I was standing at the nurses station. She stormed past the counter and into the break room. My eyes rolled, but I knew I had to follow her in and try to help calm her down. She wasn't the first person I had offered a shoulder to cry on after an experience with that particular patient.

"I'm sorry, Candy. He's been just a jerk to everyone - it's not just you," I said as I helped mop up her dress with a towel.

"What is his problem?" Candy wailed. "I was just trying to help him with a bath. He smells bad!"

"I know, I know. He's refused any help since being admitted. I think he's just angry about his fractured leg and the surgery. He's hurting and hates not being in control. It's not your fault - he's just taking it out on you."

"He's such a jackass," Candy said. "Leigh, I don't know how you put up with him." I bit my lip from saying something I'd regret regarding the patient I had cared for close to 2 weeks straight.

I finished up with Candy and went back to my end of shift charting. Although I had been assigned to the orthopedic floor only 3 months ago on a "temporary" assignment, I was already functioning as charge nurse most of the shifts I worked. That meant I had just a few patients to actually care for, but I was in charge of how things went for the entire floor.

I had been a traveling nurse for about 2 years now. It was great. The company took contracted assignments from hospitals that needed nurses. They paid for my travel expenses, housing and a great salary. Seeing beautiful places, being paid to travel and plus, it kept you out of hospital politics. Not to mention I didn't have to dwell on the fact that I had no reason to settle down. This assignment in Houston, Texas was just winding up after a 12-week assignment and I was due for some R & R. The patient in room 634 had been a test of my patience and tolerance for the past week, and I was looking forward to taking some time off.

I finished my charting and headed down the hall. Mr. Miguel Bain had been admitted two weeks ago following what was most likely an automobile accident and shooting. He'd kept silent on what really happened, but he'd been brought to our Emergency Room semi-comatose, with multiple bullet holes and an open fracture of the left leg. No insurance, but this was a state facility, so we didn't turn anyone away. Besides, he had pulled out a wad of cash and threw it at the admission girls when they had asked for his insurance card. The bruises and bullet holes had begun to heal, but the open leg fracture had required surgery, pinning and casts. The cast was coming off in a couple of days, but the physical therapy was just going to begin in earnest at that point.

I had been assigned to him as primary nurse, which meant I had to put up with his bullshit every day I worked, plus field all major problems when I wasn't at work. I had gotten more calls about Mr. Bain from the staff that all my other patients combined. He was angry and had been a real prick to everyone who tried to care for him. He had refused a bath for about a week now - a tactic I'm sure to make him feel like he was in control of something - but it made the unpleasant task of dealing with Mr. Bain even worse. The nursing assistant I had sent into to help him wash up was one of our strongest helpers - and if he could make her cry, I couldn't in good conscious make anyone else try to accomplish the task.

The subject in question had his eyes shut when I entered the room. Typical avoidance tactic. Apparently he had thrown the bath basin at Candy when she tried to give him a bath, because the floor was covered in soapy water. Turning the corner around the bed, I went down on my ass. The snicker I heard from the bed assured me that my patient was not sleeping.

As I looked up from the floor, his thickly fringed amber eyes looked down with a sparkle in them. "Are you all right?" he asked as I struggled to get up.

"Yes, no thanks to you," I replied. I began to clean up the floor with a few leftover towels and said, "Why are you terrorizing my staff, Mr. Bain?"

We had built a tentative rapport over the last week while battling over treatments, medications, privileges…you name it. Well, maybe not rapport, but at least I had earned a grudging truce when I worked with him personally.

"Chica, I have told you to call me Miguel…and I'm not terrorizing your staff. The idiota that came in before just did not want to play by my rules." His voice was deep and a little gravely. Just sexy enough to be distracting.

"She just wanted to give you a bath! God knows you need one!" I exclaimed while I finished mopping up the floor and straightening the bedside stand. "Your personal hygiene leaves much to be desired Mr. Bain." I leaned over the bed and wrinkled up my nose as if to point out the fact that he smelled badly.

His hands snaked out, grabbed me by the shoulders and drew me up closely to his face. My hands automatically clutched at his dark shoulders to avoid falling onto his chest. He had refused to wear a hospital gown, and his darkly furred chest filled my eyesight. Those same dark eyes that twinkled with amusement as I fell now burned into mine when my eyes rose to his. "Maybe if I had something to bathe for I wouldn't fight so hard," he whispered. "Do you know of some reason I should, Bruja?"

Now, I had been a nurse for several years in a variety of situations - but never one like this one. I know I should have pulled back and been a little more professional, but I also knew men and I considered myself an expert at manipulation. So I decided to use a little feminine "mind-play" to get results.

Relaxing in his grip, I leaned forward until my breasts were flat on his chest. The tip of my tongue slipped out and licked my lips in a way that I knew would draw his attention. His eyes followed the path of my tongue and his grip grew even tighter on my shoulders. His scent washed over me, but instead of being repulsive, it was a musky perfume that filled my senses and made me think of sweaty sheets after a long night of sex. "I might know a reason for you to be clean…" I said as my eyes deliberately roved down his face and chest. "but you'll never know it until AFTER you bathe!"

"Usted es tan hermoso y sexy, yo quiero enterrarme tanto en usted y lo hace viene," he murmured as he began to pull me into an embrace.

"Yea, whatever," was my flip comment. I fisted my hands and using a move learned from a self-protection class, I popped his hands away from my shoulders and pulled away. "Now, do you want to bathe? Or do you just want to lie there in your own stench?" I asked.

"¿Es usted afriad de mí? All right, all right, …go ahead and bathe me if you must," he said as he leaned back with his hands behind his head. He made quite a sight in the hospital bed - dark, muscled and so exotically handsome. His hair hung in curls down to his shoulders and without a gown or shirt; I could see the line of dark chest hair disappearing under the sheet that was covering lower half. Whoa…what a body! I knew I needed to cool off a little, so I turned and made myself busy preparing the bath basin with soap and towels.

I could feel his amber eyes perusing me as I went about my work. At 5 foot, 2 inches tall, I was a short package - but because of hard work, that package was built. Being a traveling nurse was great - but it did have some drawbacks. I didn't have many close fiends - only casual acquaintances in the hospitals where I contracted. So I spent a lot of time in local gyms working out. Consequently, I was as "buff" as I could get and I was pretty proud of it. Weight…115 pounds…Body fat…10 %. Not bad, I thought. But my best feature had to have been my hair. It was long and a color one of my ex-boyfriends called honey blond. Lots of light blonde streaks mixed with a darker, honey brown color. The brown streaks almost matched the color of my eyes. Tonight, as usual for work, my hair was in a French braid down the back of my white scrubs.

I finished setting up Miguel's bath and brought the stand close to the bed. His bed had been fitted with an orthopedic traction device, which meant he had overhead bars and a 'triangle' that he could lift himself up with. His arms and upper body were fine, other than the few scabs and healing wounds - but his leg was basically dead weight. He lifted himself onto his side as I gave him an injection of pain medicine prior to all the movement a bath would take.

"There you go," I said and I placed the towels next to him on the bed. "Call when you're done." I turned and began walking out the door.

"Wait, wait, wait…you can't just leave me like this. I thought you were going to give me a bath." I turned and saw the irritation on his face - his nurse/bath/porno fantasy was walking out the door with me. The 'lump' that had developed under the sheets was fast disappearing.

Walking back to the bedside, I leaned over into Miguel's face. "I think the problem with the others is that they've been treating you like an invalid. You're not an invalid - just a little spoiled. You can figure this out." And with that, I pulled out a drippy, soapy washcloth, dropped it into his lap and walked out the door.