"Sandra can I have a word" Strickland asked after an interesting conversation with someone from the murder team.

"Sure sir, your office or mine?"

"Mines closer."

They walked the way in silence Sandra's mind started to race at thoughts of what it could be, it couldn't be the case he had already congratulated the team on a job well done, maybe one of the boys did something? No I usually find out before him. Her mind stopped as she realised how tight his suit trousers were, they made his arse look absolutely impeccable. She let out a sigh of pleasure at her increasingly naughty thoughts as they reached his office. He opened the door and let her go in front of him before shutting the door behind them. His office was big, there was even a small two seater sofa near a bookcase. She turned to face him, he looked absolutely livid startling her. If his anger wasn't directed at her, it would have turned her on even more.

"Why have I only just found out you had a loaded gun pointed at your face?" He started

"Sir,"

"No, Sandra. You are under my command, I am your superior, I am supposed to be informed of these things as soon as possible. Why did I find out from a person on the murder squad who wasn't even there, that the gun was in your face."

"It wasn't just mine."

"It mostly was, and you were the superior officer in the room."

"Because there was only me and Gerry there."

"Why didn't you call for backup then? I thought you were an intelligent, competent officer. Obviously not."

"We didn't think,"

"We finally agree on something. You should have thought. You should have called for backup." Sandra started laughing at this point, partially out of exhaustion, partially because of the absurdity of the situation.

"What is so funny?"

"You are Sir, it was you who split up my team which could have prevented me and the others in that room nearly getting shot, you brought us this case, and YOU weren't the one with the gun pointing at their head. You didn't even ask if I was okay. I have no clue why the fuck I've been in love with you for over five years because you really are a wanker. I thought I'd never be as angry with you as I was after the crack about my dad leading me to find out I knew nothing about the man but nope, well done sir, you've gotten me madder. You're fine with everything until you find out I nearly got shot, I thought you were going to ask me if I was okay but no, you're shouting at me for following a lead which is my job. If I had called for backup and it was nothing you'd still be shouting at me for wasting their time and my departments budget. Thank you. I really do feel even worse. Now if you want to shout at me for anything else, can it wait until tomorrow morning? I'm getting a drink."

"You're in love with me."

"Yeah, silly me." She replied satirically

"Why?"

"I've been asking myself that since you started shouting. When I find out, I'll let you know." She got to the door handle when he spoke, softly this time.

"Why haven't you told me? Ive asked you out before, loads of times."

"I was scared."

"Of me?"

"Of being hurt."

"I wouldn't hurt you."

"My dad said that, decades later he's still hurting me and he's dead. You're very much alive, you could do so much more damage."

"I'm not your dad."

"I know, thankfully."

"Will you give me a chance to love you?" Her heart skipped a beat at the question, until she remembered that the reason they were in his office was so he could shout at her for being shot.

"You do remember why we're in your office right?"

"Good point."

"The chance to love me?" She questioned

"I've been in love with you for years." He confessed. They stared at each other until tears started to fall from Sandra's ocean blue eyes. Robert opened his arms, inviting her in. She practically fell into him as the sobs racked through her body, he guided her to the sofa settling her in his lap and rubbing her back.

"I'm sorry I shouted. Sometimes I just don't understand how to process my feelings when it comes to you. I was so scared. And enraged. I love you so much, you shouldn't have to have guns in your face."

"I'm a police officer, people like to try and shoot me, it's in the job description."

"Doesn't make it any easier."

"Nope, not the first time, not the last." She agreed from her place in Roberts lap, also known as heaven.

"If you'll let me, I'll be here for you after each and every time. I'll hold you, just like this. I promise."

"Forever?" She asked feeling so vulnerable but comfortable at the same time.

"Forever."