A/N: This is an idea that's been niggling at me ever since all these storms started (I don't know what it's like where everyone else lives, but the weather's still pretty damn awful here) and it wouldn't leave me alone.

Sarah x

Jac yelled at Hanssen, so loud that the words haunted her as they echoed on the empty staircase. "What is it with you? Why do you hate me?" she screamed. "Everything I do, you find a way to criticise it. Just bloody well lay off!" she shouted.

"You have to admit, Miss Naylor, that young F2's are bound to be just a little apprehensive about having you for a mentor," he reminded her. "You are manipulative, rude, arrogant, aggressive and frightening to those who have not had the pleasure of encountering you before."

Jac's temper was starting to rise now. Manipulative and frightening, was she? Well, he hadn't seen anything like what would happen if she lost her temper with him. And, as he opened his mouth again, it seemed like he did not know when to stop pushing her. "You have an unfortunate habit of rubbing people up the wrong way, and their initial thoughts of you are that you are going to make them miserable, just so they know their place in the chain of command, something that makes every junior doctor dread their time with you," he concluded.

Jac didn't know what came over her next. All she could recall was that the palm of her hand made sharp contact with Henrik Hanssen's face. "That's all I'm good for then. The only thing I'm any use for is spare parts and keeping F2's in their place?" It was out before she realised what she had said, and remembered that Hanssen didn't have a clue what the term 'spare parts' meant to her. He wasn't to know what her mother had done to her. She watched as he opened his mouth to give her a snide retort, and then closed it again, looking at her curiously.

"Spare parts?" he asked her. She looked away from him and then started to walk away. She couldn't face going over that one. Talking about Joseph, she could just about manage, but Paula Burrows left a hole in her that she desperately wanted to leave alone. She closed her eyes when she felt Hanssen's cool hand on her bare arm, pulling her back to the landing they were arguing on. She could feel the tears forming from letting it slip; in her rage, she had forgotten that she was shouting at Hanssen, not Michael. Michael, it would have been easier because he already knew.

"I shouldn't have said that. Sorry," she told him. She was unnerved to see actual concern in his eyes. It was the tears that had done it, she realised. Anybody round here would find it odd that she allowed wetness to form in her eyes. If only they had seen her that day, in her 'dead' grandfather's house, with her bawling her eyes out...they may well have died from shock. And if Hanssen had seen her, and seen what Paula had made of her, he might not have said what he just did. About her being aggressive...she wasn't aggressive that day. She was helpless. The only thing she could do was walk away before she was abandoned again. "Can I get back to the ward now, or do I have to apologise for slapping you as well?" she sighed.

"No, you cannot go back to Darwin," he replied. "You are going to follow me, and you are not going to argue with me." It was said with such finality that she saw no point in defying him. He would only come onto Darwin and cause a scene with one of his cutting remarks. She was at his heels as he made his way up the stairs, right to the top floor, and out onto the roof. It was cold and windy, and yet oddly comforting. It matched how she felt. How she'd felt since she was twelve.

"Why did you take me up here?" she finally asked of him. He looked at her calmingly, as if he was waiting until she had completely simmered down and there was no chance of her slapping him again. She tilted her head back and allowed the wind to whip her hair across her face. Though she knew the temperature must have been low up there, she didn't feel cold at all.

"The wind," he said simply. He gave a small smile when she looked at him for a better explanation. "The wind blows away my anger and resentment and any bad feelings I have...I thought, after hitting me, you could rather use it." She smiled to herself at that. Of course, he was the one person who would not fly off the handle if she smacked him across the face. "Now, what exactly did you mean when you said that all you were useful for was 'spare parts and keeping F2's in their place'?"

"I didn't mean to say it; it just slipped out. And I shouldn't have slapped you, either," she allowed. He gave her a strange look, and she returned it just as cautiously. Why did he care, anyway?

"Just because you didn't mean to say it, that does not mean that it was just a throwaway phrase," he persisted. He sighed and stared at her face, waiting for some sign that she was cracking. "Come on, Miss Naylor. You, of all people, never say something if it doesn't mean anything. What did you mean?"

"I don't want to speak about it. It's over and done with, and it has been for nearly two years. So just leave it alone," she said firmly. He shook his head. Why was she so resistant to him, even when he was trying to be kind. It was his eyes that made her crack, in the end. He gave her an odd stare, one that told her he could be trusted. That he would not say anything. And anyway, Michael never told anyone, and he had the biggest mouth she had ever come across. "My mother abandoned me when I was twelve, to go to India," she told him wearily.

"I'm sorry," he said. He really was. Nobody deserved for their mother to abandon them, especially before they knew how to live without a parent.

"A couple of years ago, her kidneys started failing. She came back her, looking for me. She got close to me, and I gave her a kidney," she explained, her voice cracking as she remembered what came next. "I took care of her, and I went to get her more medication, and when I came back to my flat...she was gone. I went after her. My wound was infected, and the trip would have killed me if Michael hadn't helped me out. I found her..." she recalled. Tears stung her eyes as she forced herself not to cry. "She was in my grandfather's house. The grandfather she told me was dead, but he was very much alive. Anyway, she went back to India. She abandoned me, all over again. And I discovered I have a half-sister I had no clue about. The only thing I could think of to explain it was that she just needed a kidney and I was the most convenient place to get one," she concluded.

There was a long silence. Hanssen just sat there, taking in what her mother had done. That comment about what happened with Hannah Reynolds and her daughter...it made sense now. Jac's bitter words echoed in his head..."That a mother could screw up her daughter? I find it depressingly realistic."

"You do know that you are worth much more than that, don't you?" he made sure. He hadn't meant to offend her so deeply, and if he had known of what her mother had made her feel about herself, he wouldn't have said it at all. "Though you intimidate the younger staff, you are a brilliant surgeon and a good consultant. You do understand that?" he asked her gently. There was a rumble of thunder overhead, and Hanssen knew they really ought to go back inside before the rain started. But Jac looked so peaceful up here. The wind blew her hair in every possible direction, but her face was less cold, less pained, than it was when she was screaming at Hanssen on the stairwell.

Then the rain started to sheet down on them. Instead of running for cover, Jac tilted her head back and allowed the water to pour onto her skin, washing away all the stress from today, and the inexplicable hatred that made her slap her boss. It wasn't even him she was angry with. She smiled while the bitingly cold water splashed on her face; she noticed Hanssen smirking in the corner where he stood, looking on at her. Her make up ran all over her face and her scrubs were soaked through, but she was beautiful here. It was the first time he had seen her content. The mask she wore indoors had been melted off by the water.

Then the wind really started to blow and he realised it wasn't safe for her to stand on the roof anymore. She was not aware of him being there. She was in her own little bubble right now, as she realised what it was to be free. So he pushed her, with a hand on each side of her waist, to the door that got them back in the hospital. Her conscience returned to her when she felt the absence of falling moisture and figured that they were no longer on the roof. He guided her down the stairs and back to Darwin and, with a tiny smile, said, "Have a nice day, Miss Naylor."

She turned and corrected him. "Jac," she replied. He nodded and she went back onto the ward alone. It was so good to feel it wash away from her. Thought the memories were still there, that's all they were. They were just memories, and nothing could be done about them, so why did she let them haunt her?

Sahira stopped her and exclaimed, "Oh my God! What happened to you?" She touched Jac's sleeve and felt it was drenched.

"I'm wet, I'm cold and I'm free," she answered, and walked away, leaving Sahira looking more confused than ever. She smiled as she changed into a dry set of scrubs. She was never going to tell anyone what happened on that roof. She and Hanssen had a reputation of being rude, arrogant and sarcastic to protect, after all.

Hope it was OK!

Please leave a review and say what you thought of it!

Sarah x