“Your underwear is coated in that shit and the longer that you keep it on, the more damage that it’s going to do to your skin,” he said, sounding completely rational, which actually frightened her. “We need to get the rest of your clothes off and try to wash the residue off your skin. Now.”

As much as she wanted to argue with him, and she really wanted to argue this one, she couldn’t. With each passing second the burning and itching only got worse.

“Fine,” she said, reaching for her bra strap, “but you don’t need to be in here. I can do it myself.”

“I’m not leaving,” the stubborn bastard said as he reached down and grabbed a large bar of white soap.

“Yeah, you really are” she said, wincing when a sting accompanied her attempt to remove her bra strap.

“Not happening, Tinkerbelle,” he said, gently pushing her hand aside and-

“Ow!” she cried out as he pulled her bra strap up and over her shoulder and as far down her arm as it would go. She had a similar reaction when he did the same with the other bra strap.

“Your back and legs fared the worst, Tink,” he said, startling her into looking down as he efficiently unsnapped her bra and what she saw had her swallowing hard as she tried not to panic.

“Are you allergic to anything, Tink?” he asked, sounding calm as he carefully hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slowly lowered them to the floor.

“No,” she said, a small cry escaping her when his knuckles accidentally brushed up against her skin.

“Are you having any problems breathing?” he asked, tossing her panties out of the shower.

“No,” she mumbled, trying not to lose it.

“Good,” he murmured behind her as she struggled against looking down.

Every inch of her body was covered in what appeared to be hives, large, angry looking hives that were noticeably raised. There wasn’t a spot on her body that didn’t itch or burn. Only the fear that she would make things worse was stopping her from scratching every inch of her body. The itching she could understand, but she’d never heard of hives burning the-

“I’m sorry,” Danny said, cutting through her panicked thoughts.

“For what?” she asked before a thought occurred to her and when it did, she was seeing red. “Oh my God! Those bags were yours?” she demanded, moving to turn around and kick his ass when he answered.

“No.”

“Then what are you apologizing for?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip as she snuck another peek down at herself and cringed.

“For this.”

“Wh-Ouch!” she screamed as he carefully placed his soapy hands on her back. The pain multiplied, forcing her to slap her hands against the shower wall and grit her teeth together as she thought of another way to kill the bastard.

*-*-*-*

“Stop being a baby and just take it,” the bastard that had trapped her in his bathroom ordered, trying once again to force her to take the small cup of Benadryl from him.

“I don’t need it,” she stubbornly said even as she resisted the urge to scratch every last inch of her body.

Thanks to the shower that Danny had forced her to endure, her skin no longer felt like it was on fire, but that damn itch wouldn’t go away. If she’d been alone she would have dropped the towel and scratched herself to her heart’s content by now, but she wasn’t alone because the jackass refused to let her leave until she took some medicine. She wasn’t taking it, no way in hell was she taking it.

“I don’t see the problem, Tinkerbelle,” he said, placing the small cup of medicine on the sink counter so that he could cross his arms over his chest and glare down at her, looking every bit the intimidating Marine that he probably once was. The fact that he was naked except for the towel wrapped around his hips didn’t take away from the effect. She could appreciate the concern and bossiness over her well-being, she really could, but that didn’t change the fact that she shouldn’t take the medicine.

“Look,” she said, sighing heavily as she reached up and pushed back her hair, somehow resisting the urge to scratch her face and neck as she did it, “I really appreciate what you did for me tonight. I do, but I don’t need any medicine. I’m fine.”

He didn’t say anything as he continued to stare down at her.

Not one to let some guy intimidate her, she stared back, fully expecting him to back down. So when a minute or so passed and he still kept that glare up, she couldn’t help but shift nervously even as she struggled to hold her own in this contest of wills. She would not lose, damn it!

“I-I don’t need it,” she heard herself stammering nervously before she could stop herself.

Instead of arguing with her, he simply continued to glare.

“I’m not even really that itchy,” she rambled on nervously, absently scratching her right arm as she tried not to squirm beneath that glare that was actually starting to freak her out a little bit.

“I doubt that it would help,” she continued to ramble on.

“I’ll be fine in the morning,” she added a moment later, needing to break the silence and hoping that he’d stop glaring at her.

When he still didn’t speak or move for that matter, she added, “I react badly to medicine.”

An understatement, definitely an understatement.

Instead of asking her to elaborate, he just kept on glaring down at her until she couldn’t take it any longer and finally blurted out, “Fine!” She grabbed the small cup of medicine, downed it in one sip and slammed the small disposable plastic cup on the counter.