Sam and Phil walked back into CID, the morning had gone well, court had gone as expected and the villain had been sent down.

Crossing to her desk, Sam had time to wonder where Stuart and Jo were. She hadn't seen either of them when she dropped in to the office briefly before her court appearance. Stuart hadn't taken their break up all that well, and Sam was feeling a bit guilty. It had been awkward the previous evening at the pub when Phil had cuddled up to her, and they'd exchanged kisses. When she'd come up for air, she'd caught the strangest look on Stuart's face. He'd left shortly afterwards, and Jo had excused herself and hurried after him.

Neil was back at his desk, and he looked up when she entered their office. "How did it go?"

"Two years." Sam looked back to the open office, "Stuart and Jo not in yet?" she asked casually.

"Apparently, Stuart had a bit of an accident last night, and Jo will be in after lunch." Neil shrugged.

"Oh." Sam frowned, that was odd. "Is he alright?"

"Apparently he's going to be fine."

"What happened?" Sam asked carefully.

"No idea. Some kind of accident."

She looked back into the office and saw Jo coming through the door, she was about to wave, but Jo went straight into the DCI's office, and closed the door behind her. Puzzled, Sam turned back to her desk and paperwork, Jo was bound to come and talk it over with her afterwards, so Sam decided to wait.

Jo faced Meadows across his desk. "Stuart's going to be fine but he's done quite a lot damage which will take a bit of time to heal." She looked down at her hands, wondering whether she had ever felt so angry in her life, but she wasn't prepared to lose control of her emotions here. "He's being released this afternoon, and he's coming home with me because he can't look after himself for a bit. And we'll take it from there."

Jack looked at her, grave and worried, "Occupational health will want to talk to him."

"With respect guv, I don't really think that's a very good idea."

"Jo, in these circumstances, it is usual."

"So far, only you and I know what really happened. He didn't mean to do it, he was drunk and upset, and it was a sudden impulse thing while he wasn't thinking straight." She leaned forward, "He'll never do it again, and I really think he needs space to come to terms with what he's done and why it happened. Please guv."

Jack Meadows sighed heavily. He trusted Jo's judgement, and while he should be reporting this to Occupational Health, he was prepared to stick his neck out a little for Stuart. He'd been horrified when Jo had phoned him, and he'd headed straight to the hospital. Stuart had been in a bad way, and Jo had been stressed and tearful, and she'd pleaded with Meadows to keep it quiet. Reluctantly he'd agreed. And he couldn't back out now.

He nodded. "Okay Jo, we'll play it your way."

Jo sat at her desk and stared at her screen. Last night had been one of the worst of her life. Stuart had been upset, and when they reached his place, he'd proceeded to drink his way through a bottle of Jack Daniels that someone had given him and Sam for a present. She'd tried to intervene, then she'd tried to get him to go to bed. She'd stayed, he was restless and she had thought he shouldn't have to be alone. Good thing I did. What had happened had been a moment of pure drunken madness. But the consequences could have been much worse. He'd hurt himself quite badly, but no real lasting damage was done. When he'd woken up in hospital, and realised exactly what he'd done he'd been apologetic and tearful, and Jo's heart had turned over as his usual cocky defenses just crumbled away, and he'd leaned into her arms desperate for some reassurance.

What really wound her up was Sam's apparent lack of concern over how Stuart might feel about her and Phil. It seemed to Jo, that Sam and Phil had gone out of their way to rub it in that they were a couple, without thinking for a moment about the consequences of their actions.

All actions have consequences. She pondered the inevitable nature of consequences for a moment. A bleak expression crossed her face, as she contemplated the probable consequences if she had not stayed last night.

Sam thought about several opening gambits she could try as she tried to make her way to Jo's desk in what she hoped was a casual manner. Jo's expression was rather off putting, but Sam felt she had known Jo for long enough to start up a conversation and find out what had happened to Stuart with considerable ease. They were friends. They'd shared confidences before.

What she'd hadn't planned on overcoming was the cold silence as Jo just stared at her computer screen. To all intents and purposes she was filling out paperwork, but Sam could see that her heart wasn't in it. She seemed far away.

"Jo..." Sam tried the simplest approach be direct. "How's Stuart?"

"He'll be fine... Eventually." Jo looked up at Sam as though she didn't recognise her.

Sam huffed inwardly at Jo's tone, not openly hostile, it was far less friendly than their relationship dictated and Sam felt hurt. Feeling hurt, she automatically went into retreat. "Okay..."

Jo stared hard at her friend. Part of her wanted to leap up and shout at her, part wanted to lash out and wound her as she had wounded Stuart. But she held it all in. For Stuart's sake.

Sam had regrouped, and bolstered by Phil's presence, she was determined to get to the bottom of what was going on. Meadows had seemed particularly reserved and Sam was feeling insecure again.

So Sam and Phil were on Jo's doorstep. Sam knocked. There was no answer for a moment, then the door opened. Jo seemed even more distant than she had at the station and Sam found herself wondering if she had offended Jo in some way.

"Jo, can we talk?" Sam smiled encouragingly. Phil hovered in the background

"It isn't convenient right now." Jo's tone seemed off and she seemed ready to shut the door, then caught sight of Sam's hurt expression and sighed inwardly. "It really isn't convenient, but you had better come in." She stepped aside and let them both in. As Phil passed her, there was a crash from the kitchen, and a male voice cursed.

"Jo..." Stuart came out of the kitchen. He stopped dead... "Sam...I... Phil" he acknowledged the older man with a curt nod of his head.

Sam and Phil stared back in growing horror. Stuart was dressed in jeans and a shirt, but the sleeves of the shirt were rolled up, and his wrists were heavily padded and bandaged.

Sam stepped forward as if to put her arms around him, but he turned his head aside and stepped back, and she paused uncertain what to do. He was clearly distressed at her presence.

"Stuart, I... what have you done to yourself."

He shook his head in distress, and backed away again. Phil turned grey under his tan. He took one look at the heavy padding on Stuart's forearms and knew that he'd slashed his wrists. That Stuart felt deeply enough to do such a thing hadn't occurred to Phil and it shocked him to his core.

"Stu... mate." He paused awkwardly, and Stuart seemed almost unaware of his presence. Jo stepped into the breach, she moved between them, and put her arm around Stuart's shoulders, "Come on hun." She gently guided him into the sitting room. Sam and Phil awkwardly following.

"Sam, a word!" Jo looked up at Phil. "Stay with him." She murmured. Phil nodded, feeling ever so slightly sick.

Sam followed Jo, she was feeling slightly queasy herself, and guilty. That Stuart had been hit harder by their break up than she thought was the thing that hurt worst of all. Sam always prided herself on her understanding of people, and she'd neatly pigeonholed Stuart as an arrogant idiot, without thinking twice about it. And he wasn't as untouched by the experience as she had thought.

"Sam, I didn't want you two here tonight." Typical Jo, direct and to the point. "Stuart's been hurt enough, but he needs to find a way through this. Last night, he got drunk and did what he did in a moment of drunken defiance."

"Jo, I never meant to hurt him," Sam tried to defend herself, as she acknowledged the truth of what Jo was saying, "I just didn't think that he really felt like that."

Jo snapped, the strain and distress of the last twenty four hours overloaded, "last night, I held a devasted little boy in my arms, who was crying his heart out... for his mother... in French. This morning I did a little digging, it wasn't difficult, most of it was just a phone call. Did you know Stuart's mother walked out on him one night when he was thirteen and he's never seen her since. That he was alone with his father, and then his father fell ill and Stuart nursed him until he died in a hospice when Stuart was only seventeen. I would say that he's been hurt more than enough, wouldn't you?"

"I never knew..." Sam shook her head slowly. Truth was, she'd wanted a simple uncomplicated relationship and Stuart had appeared to offer that. Then she'd fallen in love with Phil. If the miscarriage had never happened. She shook her head again, she was never in love with Stuart, it was just fun on her side, and she'd thought because of his response to the pregnancy that that was all he wanted too. She prided herself on her understanding of people and what made them tick, and that she misread Stuart so badly came as a shock.

Phil sat opposite Stuart and tried to think of something to say. "Stuart, look... mate..." he began, but Stuart cut him off.

"Not your fault, my own stupid fault... with some help from Mr Jack Daniels'" Stuart's grin was slightly cockeyed and the look in his eyes didn't quite match the grin, but Phil was relieved all the same.

"Much damage..." Phil indicated Stuart's bandages.

Stuart looked down at his hands, "No, I was too drunk to do anything permanent, but it bloody hurts." He reached out for the glass of juice with both hands, "and there are a few other problems, such as I can't grip anything properly with one hand, and getting dressed is a bit of a bugger." He awkwardly tilted the glass with both hands, and drank some of the juice, managing to spill some of it on his shirt too. And cursed under his breath. Phil moved as if to help, Stuart shook his head. "Nah, mate... it's ok." He replaced the glass on the table. "Jo's been helping me." For a second something flickered in his eyes, and Phil was suddenly curious. Stuart and Jo? He shook his head slightly, impossible.

A noise behind him and Phil looked up, Sam was standing in the doorway. She silently motioned to him to make himself scarce. Phil nodded and got to his feet, leaving them alone.

Sam moved to sit next to Stuart on the sofa. His face was slightly turned away from her, and his body language screamed defensiveness, but she sat down anyway. Gently took his right hand in both of hers, encouraged that he didn't pull his hand away. "Stuart, I..." her voice wobbled a bit and she swallowed, he wasn't going to make it easy on her, and she could scarcely blame him.

"Stuart, we didn't plan it. It just happened."

"I know." he looked at her, and she got it, he was giving her the public face, the one he gave to everybody, Stuart Turner, supercop. Yet Jo had slid beneath his defenses so easily. And for a moment Sam wondered if there was anything between them, Stuart and Jo? She shook her head slightly, that's impossible. She turned her attention back to the problem in hand, Stuart's battered soul, and this was going to be a lot more difficult than she had imagined. His hand lay passively in hers, neither accepting her touch nor rejecting it, and Sam realised that for all the front and the defensiveness, Stuart felt a lot more than she had suspected. And that he'd buried himself deep inside this fake persona, to protect himself. Just as he'd convinced himself that it was okay to let his guard down, she'd slammed the door in his face. Then she'd rubbed it in, going off with Phil. Sam knew there was no easy fix, and that getting Stuart to let her heal the wound she'd unintentionally inflicted on him, was going to be the hardest part.

She badly wanted to hug him, and try to kiss it better, but she held off, knowing instinctively that would have been a mistake, it would have seemed like pity to him. So she contented herself with holding his hand.

Jo put the last of the washing up away, and headed for bed. She entered her room, he'd managed to peel his shirt off, and undone the button on his jeans, now he was struggling with the zip. "Stu..." she sighed, "let me." Frustrated he struggled to keep a grip on the zipper tab, his stiffened and sore muscles protesting. "STU." Jo snapped, firmly pushed his hands out of the way and slid his zip down. The bruised look was back in his eyes, and she hugged him, helping him ease out of his jeans, "come on hun". She climbed into bed, holding the duvet up so that he could crawl in beside her, and he cuddled up close. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to them both, and they gravitated into each other's arms without the slightest trace of embarrassment.

He snuggled against her, and put his head on her shoulder, Jo slid her arm firmly round him and got comfortable. Sensed his eyes on her, asking a question.

"What?" she watched him.

"Nothing." he closed his eyes.

As she allowed herself to drift away, he murmured in her ear. "Thanks... hun."

"What for" she muttered sleepily.

"Saving my life," and he gently kissed her on the cheek.