Once they were in the elevator, Heath moved to take MJ in his arms, but he stopped when he saw her push the button for the lobby.

"Our suite's on the eighteenth floor," he said in confusion.

"Carter's not going to stay in the fucking bathroom forever," MJ said. She was hard to understand, as she was shaking, and her teeth were chattering. "Our suite's the first place he'll come looking for us once he realizes we have it."

"Have what?" Heath asked, his confusion growing.

MJ stuck her hand out from under the coverlet she had pulled around herself. In it was Carter's phone, which was still recording.

Heath's eyes widened.

"Here, take it, please, I can't hold it and hold the blanket closed," MJ said, so Heath grabbed it and stuck it in his pocket.

MJ swallowed back a sob, and Heath again moved to hold her, but MJ shook her head. "I can't, not yet," she said. "If you do, I'll just fall apart and start crying, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop. Let's get through this first, okay?" She looked at Heath out of somber, sad, brown eyes. "This is going to be a publicity nightmare, Heath. Can you deal with that? You don't mind?"

"Oh god, MJ, how can you ask me that?" He reached out and stroked her hair. "I can handle anything for you, okay? Anything. You are everything to me. My career, it means nothing compared to you." He nodded.

MJ firmed up her mouth before she could cry and nodded her thanks, just as the elevator dinged and opened.

Because of the relatively late hour, there were few people about, but they got plenty of stares as they approached the front desk. They were led to security immediately, and the police were on their way fifteen seconds later, as was an ambulance.

Heath called Sally and told her what happened, and she called the head of security, who headed for Meredith's suite. Incredibly, both Meredith and Carter were still there. Hotel security joined them there, and held the two of them until the police could get there.

"Oh my god," Sally cried out when she saw Heath and MJ in the security offices. She put a well manicured hand to her mouth as tears formed in her eyes. Her brows drew together as she shook her head.

"Am I--am I allowed to touch you?" she asked, her voice soft with shock.

"Ma'am, I'd ask that you not touch either one of them just yet, please," the head of security said. "I'm sorry, but we're going to need to collect what they're wearing for evidence, you see--"

Sally only nodded, her tears spilling over.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Ma'am? I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask that you not speak to them until they've been interviewed by the police," the same security guard said. "Again, I'm so sorry, but it's policy--"

"I understand," Sally assured him.

The police arrived at that moment, along with the EMTs, and the wheels of bureaucracy began turning.

MJ was strapped down to a gurney, blanket and all, while the police grimaced and complained about the loss of forensic evidence that might be on it.

Finally, one of the EMTs turned to one of the detectives and asked, "What would you like us to do, Herb, bag the blanket and just gurney her out naked so we preserve the evidence? Would that make you happy?" At the look on "Herb"s face, the EMT acidly added, "No? Din't fuckin' think so. Now get out the fuckin way, please."

Heath smiled in spite of the horrible circumstances. He then prepared for a fight, as he wanted to go to the hospital with MJ, in the same ambulance, if possible.

"I'm going with her," he said with as much firmness as he could muster.

"You bet you are, buster," a pretty EMT said to him. She popped her gum and smiled.

"Oh, erm, thank you," Heath responded.

"No need to thank me," the EMT said. "You have a scalp lac, a possible concussion, and a possible cracked rib, not to mention one heck of an abrasion on your face. I'm amazed you're standing, frankly."

"Okay," the first EMT said to Heath and MJ, "you two ready for this?"

"Ready for what?" Heath asked.

"It's gotten a little crazy since you two came in here," he said. "Just keep your eyes down, and don't talk to anyone, okay?"

"I'll be with you," Sally said. "And I think the police have already taken Carter and Meredith into custody and left, so at least half the circus left with them. The paps know that you two are still here, though, unfortunately, so it's a real shark tank out there. Nothing you haven't seen before, though, Heath."

"Is this going to be on live TV?" MJ asked, her voice thick and strange. Heath realized that they must have already given her something for the pain. "I don't want my dad to find out on TV, you know?" His heart felt squeezed at the concern in her voice.

"No worries, miss, we've already contacted your dad, he's on his way," one of the policemen said to her.

"Oh no, how did he sound? Was he upset? Is he going to fly? Because he doesn't have much money, and the cost will worry him," MJ said, sounding pretty worried herself.

"Shh, darling, it's okay, I've sent a plane for them, it's all taken care of," Heath told her, squeezing her hand.

"Thank you, Heath, thank you so much," MJ slurred.

They opened the doors, and the noise of the photographers and the clicking of their cameras was crazy.

Heath wanted to shield MJ as much as he could, but he'd been forced into a wheelchair, much to his disgust, and it was all he could do to keep hold of her hand for the first few seconds, before this, too, became an impossibility.

They were mercifully wheeled down a ramp to a garage area which was private, and loaded onto an ambulance. Ten short minutes later, they were at the hospital, where again they were treated to a verbal altercation between the police and the medical staff because of the sedative which had been given to MJ.

"That's just great, our vic's not even conscious, how are we supposed to take her statement?" The detective asked, slapping the wall in frustration.

"I don't know, why don't you hold on a minute, I'll slap her awake and ask, will that do?" the EMT retorted. "You know, I've had it with your bullshit about not giving a shit about the patient. Solving the crime doesn't matter at all if the patient's not around to enjoy her life, you know?"

"Oh yeah?" The detective got right up in the EMT's face. "Well, for your information--"

"People, this is a hospital, not Off Track Betting," the harried doctor informed them. "If you can't keep civil, and by that I mean quiet, tongues in your heads, then get the hell out."

Heath flashed her a look of gratitude.

"Besides, if it's germane to your argument, I believe she's already coming out of whatever tiny amount was given to her, so you guys can talk to her while we're doing the rape kit."

Heath swallowed when he heard the words "rape kit."

MJ was moving around, and the nurse and female detective were talking to her in gentle tones.

"Do you want your boyfriend in the room while we do this? Because he doesn't have to be," the nurse told her.

He could only see the top of MJ's fluffy head, but he saw it bob up and down, and for some unknown reason this made tears prick his eyes.

"Heath?"

"I'm here, darling, I'm here."

"We're going to have to take the blanket for evidence, so we need you to put this gown on, okay? He can help you with that, and then we'll come back and do the rest." The nurse patted MJ's leg and left.

MJ rose and let the female detective have the blanket, and Heath immediately covered her with the soft gown that he held ready. And for some reason, when the blanket was taken from her, MJ started to cry. She hadn't realized she was so attached to it, but she felt strangely naked without it, and oddly vulnerable. She pulled the gown tightly around her body, and looked around for something else to cover up with. She began to shiver, as well.

Heath saw and put both arms around her, rubbing her shoulders and doing everything he could think of to warm her up.

"Aww, don't worry, honey, it's a common reaction," the kind nurse said. "Here, hop back in the bed, these blankets have been in the warmer, so that will help, and I'll go get a couple more, okay?"

MJ nodded and did as she was told, huddling gratefully under their warmth. Heath sat next to her so she could lean into him. He tried not to think about how vulnerable her naked body had looked when the blanket was unwrapped.

The female detective returned, with her male partner this time, and the questions began. In a way, the interview was welcome, as it helped take their minds off the exam, which was invasive. They began with Heath running into the couple at the bar, and took it all the way up to when Heath and MJ were in the elevator headed down to security.

"Is this part necessary?" Heath asked the doctor when he saw MJ's feet in the stirrups. "I mean, he didn't, you know, I mean there was no--"

"Penile penetration?" the doctor supplied.

Heath nodded gratefully.

"But there was digital penetration, correct?" the doctor asked.

Again, Heath nodded, this time reluctantly. MJ looked away, towards the wall.

"Then yes, I'm afraid this is necessary," the doctor told him. The detectives nodded corroboration.

"What about her hands, and--and--her mouth?" Heath asked.

"Fingernail scrapings and a buccal swab were taken at the scene," the detectives supplied.

"Oh, and there's this," Heath said, suddenly remembering. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone.

"What's this?" the female detective asked, taking it from him.

"It's Carter's phone," Heath explained. "He set it up on the table next to the bed to record what he was doing. It slipped part way through, so I don't think it got all the video, but all the audio should be on there, because it was still recording when MJ handed it to me in the elevator. She grabbed it as we were running out, I guess."

"Wait, wait." The detective spoke slowly. "You're saying that this phone has partial video and complete audio of the entire attack?"

Heath nodded.

"And you have this because the victim thought to snatch it as you were escaping?"

Heath nodded, smiling at MJ, who managed to smile back, even though her face was swollen from being struck so much.

"I might just have to kiss your girlfriend when she's feeling better," the female detective said. "As it is, though I'll just have to settle for hugging you." And she stood up and gave Heath a little hug, which made him wince.

"Oh, shit, we completely forgot! You need some medical attention yourself, young man."

"I don't want to leave MJ, though, please, okay?"

The doctor performing MJ's vaginal exam pulled the sheet down to cover her. "All done, all done. You can get dressed now, okay, hon?"

"I don't have any clothes with me, though," MJ said, and these words, out of everything that had happened that night, made her start to cry.

"No worries, love," came a cheerful voice from the door. "Gotcha covered, as usual."

Heath and MJ looked over to see Melanie, whose hair was midnight black today, carrying a pink shoulder bag. "Knickers to socks, all your bits and pieces are in here, okay?"

"Oh, Mel, thank you," MJ said through her tears.

"Shh, now stop, or I'll start, and then where will we be?" Melanie admonished, kissing MJ's cheek.

Just then an orderly showed up with a wheelchair.

"I'm here for Heath Spencer," he said, obviously excited beyond belief to be wheeling Heath Spencer anywhere.

"Oh, no," Heath said. "I'm not leaving you," he said to MJ.

"Heath, don't be a wiener," MJ told him sternly. "You have a head lac, or contusion, or cracked ribs or whatever, you need to go." She turned to Melanie. "Please go with him?"

"Not a problem," Melanie assured her. She turned to Heath. "Arse in the sodding chair, Spencer. Now."

Heath sat meekly in the chair, looking with concern at MJ.

"Sally's here, I'll be fine," she assured Heath. "Go, take care of your contusions and cracks and stuff."

He gave her a grim salute as he was wheeled away.

As he was leaving, a nurse came in and gave her an injection, and within minutes, MJ was floating away on a cloud of good feelings, feeling better than she'd felt in hours.