Vesper
It took Vesper more than an hour to medicate him: two large bandages kept his side and left arm clean. Breathing now became a nuisance. His face, the object of the fury of so many in those two days, had no marks.
"You're not bad at squeezing. Is that why the other men go crazy over you?" Vesper was throwing away the gauze and bloodstained clothing, Mason was rummaging in the wardrobe for a shirt and tie. He chose the first ones he found.
"And you haven't seen anything yet."
"You're good with band-aids, too." Mason returned to the living room, adjusted his shirt under his trousers but left the tie alone.
"Is this your way of convincing me to change jobs?"
"You'd certainly have fewer problems but I'm not the man to give advice."
"My mother was a registered nurse and I was not a
