A/N: Well, where to start? I'm aware that some of you haven't seen hide nor hair of me for about a month or so, sorry about that. I'm also aware that I need to update War Torn and Silent Angel and I will do in due course, I promise. Just not entirely sure when yet.
This one is something a little different, well it's a different pairing. It is going to be a multi-chaptered fic but I can't promise regular updates. It will be updated as and when to be honest and I know that's not great but that's the best I can do at the moment. I'm not entirely sure that I've got either Nick or Yvonne exactly in character but if you think they're wildly out of character, let me know and I'll fix it. I've changed a few things round from Ricochet to fit in with this plot. Oh yeah and I think the legal stuff is sort of right, sort of anyway. Apologies if it's badly wrong.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, Casualty belongs to the BBC. No copyright infringement intended. Any dialogue you recognise from Ricochet: What goes around comes around obviously belongs to Casualty as well.
Right, that's it from me now. I'll stop waffling on and let you read the chapter. I hope you like it and please do feel free to review and tell me what you thought.
This is dedicated to Anny and Callie. Love you both.

Sixty Seconds
Chapter 1

"Stevie, put the gun down." Yvonne Rippon walked purposely but ever so slowly towards the obviously distraught teenager, not wanting to frighten him into doing anything stupid. She just hoped that no-one from the assembled crowd behind her, that mainly consisted of medical professionals, would decide to jump in and pretend to know anything about hostage negotiation. Effectively, that was what was needed here in that moment in time considering she had an emotional teenager holding his brother at gun point. Yvonne knew from bitter experience that a situation like this needed careful, experienced handling and she knew that the last thing she needed right now was one of the aforementioned medical staff, especially a particularly annoying male nurse, jumping in and doing something stupid like inadvertently winding Stevie up. If that happened, well the consequences just might be fatal for someone.

She cast a brief, sweeping glance around the department as she moved closer, her heels clicking on the hard floor. Her detective sergeant was missing again. She sighed, wondering where on earth he'd disappeared to now. He was either glued to her side like a particularly annoying puppy or off elsewhere doing his own thing without consulting her first. She just wished he'd make his mind up. As soon as this rather sticky situation she now found herself in had been resolved, she decided that he was for the high jump for disappearing. Again. Slowly, she returned her thoughts back to the potentially volatile situation she was involved in. "Stevie," she began, her voice adopting a soft note as her eyes took in the scene in front of her. Stevie was pointing the gun directly at Kris' chest. His hand was shaking violently, she noted. "You don't want to do this," she continued, realising that as she said those words, she was simply regurgitating all the expressions that every officer used when they found themselves thrown into a situation that involved negotiation of any kind. Why anyone couldn't come up with something a bit more original, she didn't know. She sighed inwardly, shaking herself mentally as she realised that her thoughts were rapidly steering off course. She had to keep focused especially seeing as she was attempting to talk to an emotional teenager – who's prominent emotion appeared to be anger towards his brother – pointing a gun at someone. Speaking of guns, she realised that she had no idea if this was the gun they were looking for or if it was a fake. If it was real, she had no way of knowing whether it was loaded or not but something told her that she didn't want to test that particular theory just yet.

"You're not like him," she broke the silence that had fallen over the E.D as she continued speaking to Stevie, who in her professional opinion seemed quite perplexed by the situation he'd gotten himself into. She just hoped that this situation wasn't about to take a turn for the worse. "Ok? You're nothing like him but if you do this then that is exactly what he wants." She paused briefly, moving forward again as she glanced quickly between Stevie and Kris. The former was still pointing the gun directly at Kris' chest. His hand was still shaking violently and Yvonne realised with horror that his finger was twitching towards the trigger. "Stevie?" She prompted again, wishing that he would move the gun away. She could see why this situation had occurred but that didn't mean she liked it, nor did she want to see blood splattered all over the E.D. Or two young lives ruined.

Stevie swung round to look at her, pure anger blazing in his eyes. As he moved, he pulled the gun away from Kris. Yvonne breathed a tiny sigh of relief, the gun was no longer pointing directly at anyone but she knew that could change. She kept her eyes on that gun, watching as Stevie waved it in the air above his head, causing several people to shriek and duck in fear. Yvonne took a deep, steadying breath trying to regain control of the adrenaline that was coursing through her body long enough so she could get everyone out of this situation safely. She vaguely became aware of the sound of sirens in the distance that were steadily coming closer and she really hoped that it wasn't who she thought it was. She hoped her D.S had enough sense not to let them storm in, all guns blazing, literally. Armed police storming in now would seriously complicate things, she knew that much from experience. They could possibly frighten Stevie enough to force him into doing something stupid like firing that damn gun. She didn't think he would but she wasn't a hundred percent sure on that. She just assumed that if he was going to do it, he would have done it already. Although she was quite aware that her assumption could turn out to be very wrong indeed.

Yvonne moved closer to Stevie, well aware that the sirens were getting closer and closer. She knew that she was placing herself in an impossibly dangerous situation but a tiny part of her didn't seem to care about herself at that moment in time. She just cared about stopping someone from getting hurt or even killed. Nothing else mattered, at least not at that moment. "You don't want to do this," she repeated, keeping her tone gentle, keeping one eye on Stevie and the other on that gun. "Y'know, if you do this then you'll be just as bad as he is. In fact you're just playing in to his hands by doing this." She took a deep breath before continuing. "If you shoot someone and they die, that's murder whether you meant to kill them or not." Technically, she knew that if someone did get shot unintentionally then it wasn't necessarily murder – it could be brought down to manslaughter but in this case, the intent to commit at least grievous bodily harm was there - well he was waving a gun around and if that wasn't intent to commit GBH then she didn't know what was - which probably meant that if anything should happen and someone should die, he would be charged with murder rather than GBH. "You could get life for murder. You don't want to spend the rest of your life rotting in some prison cell, do you? Because they won't be lenient with you, no matter how old you are. If you kill someone, that's it. Game over." She stopped speaking as she heard the sirens right outside the E.D and the sound of several car doors slamming almost in unison. She took another deep breath, well aware that this situation was probably about to get a whole lot worse.

Seconds later, her predictions came true and the doors to the emergency department were thrown open and a swarm of armed police officers rushed into the building, yelling out the fact that were armed. If she was honest, she never understood why they did that, it was pretty obvious they were armed, the gun they were holding probably wasn't for show. She sighed, realising her thoughts were going rapidly off track again – why did she keep doing that? It was obviously because she was nervous. She swallowed as she realised that Stevie's gun was now trained on her chest. When that had happened, she didn't know. "Stevie, listen to me." She held a hand up at the sergeant in charge, indicating that she had control of the situation and that they weren't to shoot or even come too close. Although she had signalled she was in control of the situation, she didn't feel like she had that much control. She felt that what was left of her control over the whole situation was rapidly slipping away. "You've got to put the gun down. No-one wants to hurt you, ok? We just want to help but we can't do that while you've got a gun in your hand. Just put it down and everything will be ok."

Stevie whirled round at her voice, keeping the gun firmly pointed at her. Yvonne took a steadying breath, aware that her hands were shaking, in fact her whole body was shaking. She recalled that she definitely couldn't remember the moment the gun had shifted focus from the air to her. Whether that was down to fear blocking it out or she just hadn't been paying attention, she didn't know at that moment in time. There would be plenty of time for examining her actions once everyone was safely out of this awful situation. Her eyes took in the detail of the gun, the long barrel, the dark colour and finally the shape of the gun. She knew then that this moment would be forever etched into her memory. She recalled that earlier she hadn't been sure whether it was a real gun or a fake one. But looking at it from this angle, it definitely looked like a real gun. Whether it was loaded or not was another matter but she was completely sure that she didn't want to test the 'was it loaded?' theory just yet.

She ran her tongue over her rapidly drying lips in an attempt to re-moisturise them. She knew that the fact she had dry lips was down to fear – she could feel her mouth drying up as well – nothing else. Not that Yvonne Rippon would ever admit she was scared. Well, at least not out loud anyway. "Stevie?" She began again, gaining his attention for the umpteenth time in the few minutes they'd been standing there. She could hear the thumping of feet as officers moved quietly as possible around, obviously moving people out of the way in case the situation began to get out of hand. "There's only way way out of this, y'know and that's to put the gun down. No-one wants to hurt you but if you don't put that gun down then they will be forced to take action and no-one wants you or anyone else to get hurt." She let her words sink in before she continued, hoping that she was doing the right thing by pointing out the danger, the pitfalls of whatever plan he had in mind. "You're holding a police officer at gun point Stevie, that's serious. You're waving a gun around in the middle of an emergency department. There are sick people here Stevie and this isn't helping anyone." She waved a hand to indicate their surrounding, knowing that there was little point to her hand gestures but they just seemed like the right thing to do in that moment. Maybe it was a way of convincing the onlookers that she had control or convincing herself. She wasn't sure and it was quite possible that she was over thinking things, again. She really had to stop her brain going off in tangents at the worst possible moments.

"They're goin' to shoot me." His rough accent pulled her out of her thoughts a mere few moments later as his eyes flicked from the sergeant in charge who had his gun trained on him to the officer stood in front of him. He couldn't even remember the moment that he'd taken his eye (and gun) off of Kris and had pointed the gun at her instead. This wasn't the plan, this had never been the plan but now he knew that he was in way over his head.

Yvonne shook her head, disputing his claims. "No, they don't want to." She replied quickly, knowing that was true. Armed officers never set out deliberately to hurt people, their aim was to resolve situations that involved firearms quickly and easily but sometimes to stop someone getting hurt, you had to shoot, she knew that much. In a way, she supposed, it was a bit like collateral damage. "But you're pointing a gun at me Stevie, that's serious. If you put the gun down then this whole situation can be resolved." She was aware that she was basically repeating everything she'd said earlier but she was hoping that it would do the trick. Going round in circles hadn't been her intention but if it worked then it was fine by her. She was attempting to do this "by the book" hoping that it would get them all out of this situation without anyone getting hurt.

She shifted her eyes from the gun to Stevie for a few moments, watching as he visibly relaxed. The gun was still pointing directly at her chest which wasn't doing much for her nerves but it seemed that her words were doing the trick and he was beginning to relax. It was much easier to resolve a situation once the person holding the gun was calmer rather than when they were tense, angry or in this case, fuelled on by emotions and quite probably hormones. The latter had fatal outcome written all over it, something which she was determined to avoid at all costs. Plus, she didn't want all the paperwork that was bound to accompany a fatal shooting by a civilian or a fatal shooting by a police officer – either of those situations was bound to result in months of paperwork.

She caught sight of a flash out of the corner of her eye that indicated someone, most probably an armed officer was on the move and she tried to keep her face blank, not wanting to let on that she was distracted. If he saw she was distracted and he started to look round to see why, he might well notice that they were closing in on him. If that happened, he might well panic and then, well she didn't want to consider the consequences, not any more. She moved her head slightly, catching sight of Nick Jordan hovering as he watched the events unfold. Part of her felt glad he was there, if something should happen, there wasn't a better doctor to deal with it. Of course, she wouldn't tell him that – it might inflate his ego.

A loud crash pulled her out of her thoughts and her heart dropped to her knees as she realised that one of the idiot new recruits to the armed team had tripped over something and was now lying on the floor. She swallowed nervously, watching Stevie as he whipped round again, obviously looking around for the armed team. She watched as his finger darted to the trigger as he panicked, realising that the armed officers were moving in on him. Time seem to slow down in those next few moments as she watched him pull the trigger.

Bang. Bang.

She heard the sound of the gun going off and then before she knew what was happening the bullets ripped through her side. Her knees buckled and she fell silently to the ground, trying not to cry out at the agonizing pain that was pulsating through her small body. She vaguely heard someone scream and the sound of feet rushing towards her. She heard what sounded like a scuffle and then those words that she'd been wanting to hear ever since she'd gotten herself into this situation.

"Police officer has the gun!"

She almost sighed with relief now, knowing that it was over. It was all over. They had the gun, the suspects. Everything just slotted into place now. The pain in her side was worsening and she was feeling sick now. Her vision was blurring and she could barely resist the temptation to give into her desire to sleep.

"Yvonne," Nick's voice broke through the cloud of dizziness that she was falling into. "Come on, open your eyes. Keep your eyes open, you're going to be fine." She felt him press something against the wound in her side and she gasped as pain shot through her body. His other hand went to her neck, his fingers expertly but gently seeking out the pulse point in her neck. They remained there for a few moments before they moved and she felt his fingers brush over hers in a reassuring manner. She vaguely realised that more people were arriving and someone else had taken over trying to stem the blood flow. She heard Nick speaking again but she couldn't quite make out what he was saying and then she was gently lifted and placed onto something hard, a trolley of some sort. She felt herself being wheeled along and she closed her eyes as she allowed herself to slip peacefully into the dark, peaceful depths of unconsciousness.