I wanted to write the remainder of Jeannie-McKay's 'Darkness Gathers Round'. I have e-mailed Jeannie two or three times asking permission to continue her story and in many ways this is a continuation. However, since I received no response from her and I don't like using someone else's idea without permission, I cannot use her title. I will state that her story 'Darkness Gathers Round' gave me the idea for this one and I think hers is a fine counterpoint to this, so I would recommend that you read hers before mine. I also like the idea of Hathaway/Innocent so have 'shipped them together for the purposes of this story.

As usual I do not own Lewis/Hathaway/Hobson/Innocent I've just taken them out of the box to play with. Andraste however is mine. Please don't sue, I have no money, as usual reviews are gratefully received – but no flames please. I think it is complete as it is, but if anyone can think of a continuation please PM me and I'll reply asap.

Out of the Abyss

Andraste sighed as she unlocked the front door. She was early, there was a chance when she was early of coming face to face with Detective Sergeant Hathaway and she hated coming face to face with this tall, blond, handsome man. He was also a police officer – police sergeant, she corrected herself and to a certain extent he scared her. He was just so damned intelligent! She tried to keep a low profile around him and thankfully he seemed quite happy to keep her at arms' length.

Sighing, she removed her coat and hung it by the door. A splash made her frown, walking quietly across the room, she saw the dark figure kneeling over the bathtub, a pale hand grabbed one of the swarthy arms and was pushed away. Creeping back to the kitchen, she quietly opened a drawer and took out a rolling pin. Hefting its weight in her hand, she crept up behind him and swung. He collapsed over the tub, stepping forward she took a handful of shirt and hauling him back, pushed him aside. She reached into the cold water and taking a handful of wet cloth, she was never sure afterwards if it was shirt or jacket, heaved. His white face broached the surface of the water like an iceberg. With her other hand she fumbled at the chain and pulled. The chain and plug came away and the water flowed away down the drain.

Her hand still wrapped around the wet material at his throat she swapped hands, taking his shirt in her left hand and laid her fingers against his throat, for a moment she panicked and then felt the flutter of a pulse. A wave of relief almost swamped her and she nearly let go. Hauling him up to a sitting position she pushed him forward. He coughed suddenly and vomited all over his trousers then took a raspy breath.

He opened pale, dazed eyes and stared at her, "Wha-" he burbled.

"Stay here," she ordered.

He nodded and coughed again, but thankfully this time he wasn't sick. Gingerly she released him and when she was sure that he wasn't going to collapse again, scampered into the lounge and grabbed a throw from the back of the chair. Returning to the bathroom she stood in the doorway. Hathaway was sitting up in the bath, his eyes closed. Droplets of water were running down his face and dripping off his hair and the end of his nose. Carefully, she laid the blanket over his back and squeezed his arm, "I'm going to call an ambulance and the police. Stay here."

"Not going anywhere," he managed to rasp.

She flashed him a quick smile and returned to the lounge, taking her mobile from her handbag she dialled 999, and returned to kneel beside Sergeant Hathaway, a calm, crisp voice answered, "Emergency. Which service do you require?"

"Ambulance and Police," she responded.

"Can you give me your location please, Miss," the man said. Andraste did as he asked and he said gently, "I'll put you through now."

The man at the other end might have been police, might have been the ambulance service, Andraste didn't care. The man continued to ask her questions and she explained what she'd done and how she'd done it, until eventually he said, "Where are you calling from?"

"My mobile, sir," she said, "I'm kneeling next to the bathtub now."

"And Mr Hathaway is still conscious?" the man asked gently.

"Yes," she responded, taking her employer's hand.

"Stay on the line, Miss Vyse, keep talking to Mr Hathaway-"

"Sergeant," she replied absentmindedly.

He laughed, "The Police and Ambulance are on their way. Stay with him."

Andraste nodded and then felt stupid because he couldn't see her. Laying the phone down on the floor next to the bathtub she laid a hand on Hathaway's arm and, "Hey," she said softly, "they're on their way."

"What happened to-to-" he swallowed, grimacing, "someone attacked me-"

"I know," Andraste replied, "I thumped him."

A wry smile curved the strong lips, "Thumped," he queried faintly.

"With a rolling pin," she explained. He was starting to shiver and she wasn't sure if it was reaction or cold. There was a thumping on the door and she picked up the phone, "Are you still there?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm still here, Miss Vyse," the calm voice replied. "I believe that the police and ambulance have arrived. Go and let them in and don't worry. Everything will be all right now, well done." He disconnected the call and Andraste smiled at the young man. "The calvary are here – I'll just go and open the door."

"Probably my boss," he mumbled.

She nodded, squeezed his arm again and went to the front door. A tall, dark-haired man was standing on the doorstep, "Miss Vyse?" he asked gently, "I'm Inspector Lewis," he showed her his warrant card.

"Come in," she said, stepping back and holding the door open, as she did so she saw the paramedics behind him. Accompanying them was a small, blonde woman, wearing an odd coloured suit and gloves. They nodded at her and then they were moving past her into the bathroom.

"I need to get a statement from you," Inspector Lewis said, "if you'll come over here-"

"Certainly Inspector," Andraste replied. He sat her in one of the chairs and began interviewing her. She explained that she came to the flat three days a week to dust and iron. Just as she was about to explain the events surrounding her injuring Sergeant Hathaway's assailant, the paramedics came through escorting their shivering patient. He was followed by two uniformed Police Officers escorting a groggy, heavy-set, dark-haired man out of the door. Andraste watched as the Inspector's eyes followed his Sergeant until he was out of sight. Then he turned his attention back to her. "You said that you don't like being too early to clean here, may I ask why?"

"I don't like meeting Sergeant Hathaway," Andraste explained, "he's so clever, makes me feel like a dunce sometimes."

Lewis let that pass, "So you heard a splash and then what?"

Andraste began to tell him what she'd done, taking the rolling pin out of the drawer and creeping into the bathroom, "Then I bashed him on the head," she explained, "I didn't think that tapping him on the shoulder would help somehow." She paused and then looking down at her hands said, "I suppose you'll want to arrest me now?"

"Not quite yet," Lewis smiled tersely, "What will you do now?"

"I work in The Grapevine every afternoon," Andraste replied.

"Can you come down to the station with me and I'll take your statement?" Lewis asked quietly.

"Certainly, Sir," Andraste got to her feet and walked across to the stool to pick up her handbag, when she turned around it was to see Inspector Lewis holding her coat for her. She flushed surprised and then swallowed, "You really don't have to fuss over me, Inspector."

"I'm not fussing, Miss Vyse," Lewis replied.

Shaking her head in disbelief she allowed him to help on with her coat.

Taking her firmly by her elbow, he escorted her out of the room. She expected him to hand her over to the police, but instead he stopped at a dark blue car and said shortly, "Get in." Stunned into silence she acquiesced.

She was silent during the short journey to the police station. As they arrived she caught sight of a tall, handsome woman leaving the building. Then his hand was beneath her elbow again and he was escorting her to an interview room.

Superintendent Innocent put her hands on the steering wheel and took a deep, shuddering breath. Then she got out of the car and began walking towards the hospital.

Showing her warrant card at reception she was directed to a small waiting room. Ten minutes later a white coated surgeon came in and Jean stood up.

"Please sit down Superintendent," he smiled, "Sergeant Hathaway's going to be fine. He was very lucky."

Jean nodded, dredging a smile from somewhere, "May I see him?" she asked.

"Of course," the doctor replied standing up, "come with me."

Innocent followed him to another room and the doctor held the door open for her, "Not too long, Superintendent. He needs to rest."

"Of course," Innocent replied She stepped into the room. Hathaway was propped up in bed, an oxygen canula running into his nose. She sat down in the hard, plastic chair, and gently took his hand, "James," she said softly.

He opened bright, blue eyes and stared up at her, "Hi," he whispered.

She smiled and squeezed his hand, "Get some rest, Sweetheart."

Hathaway nodded slowly, frowning, "Should have taken precautions – got myself into trouble."

"Don't worry about that now," Innocent said gently. "The Inspector will be along to see you later, he's just interviewing the young woman who saved your life."

"Andraste," he muttered.

"Andraste," she confirmed. "You're a lucky man, Sergeant."

He managed a faint smile and she bent her head to gently kiss him on the lips, "Get some rest, love. I'll see you later."

The doctor was waiting for her, "We'll keep him in overnight as he inhaled some water, but all being well we should be able to discharge him tomorrow."

Innocent nodded, a wave of relief threatening to overwhelm her. "Thank you, Doctor," she said, surprised by the thickness in her own voice.

"That's all right," the doctor smiled, "you think a great deal of this young man."

"We all do," Innocent replied.