Stephen Hart grimaced as the all too familiar wave of nausea hit him, stumbling towards the stairwell to avoid bumping into his work colleagues. He'd been ill for longer than he cared to think about and hiding it from the secretly astute Nick Cutter and overly-curious Connor Temple. Abby, at least, knew when to keep her mouth closed and give him some breathing room. Stephen sighed, stopping himself before he could get resentful. It wasn't like Nick was overbearing; the cranky Scot gave the lab technician plenty of space to make his own decisions and do as he would. As long as it didn't influence their work situation or cause problems there, Nick iprobably/i couldn't care iless./i At least, that's what Stephen was telling himself as he popped enough pain pills and de-congestion tablets to make himself feel a little sick.

The thing was, it hadn't impacted Stephen's ability to work, not so far. He'd managed to successfully keep them safe from three anomaly incidents this week and he was certain nobody was any the wiser. Now that Friday was nearly here, Stephen was hopeful that he'd manage to get 8 hours of sleep both nights and then he'd be fighting fit again in no time. The room started to go hazy around the edges abruptly and Stephen's only thought was that he would not bloody well faint at work. He leaned over the basin for a moment until the cotton wool sensations in his brain cleared before turning on the faucet and splashing cold water on his face and neck. When he trusted himself to stand upright with keeling over, he dried his face off with some paper towels and took a deep breath. "Come on, Stephen. Man up. You can do this…" He muttered, turning to head back to the office before the others could come looking for him.

center***/center

"Alright, folks. Good job on that last creature, I know it's been a long day. Now listen up carefully. No one, and I mean ino one/i is coming into work tomorrow. We're all taking a long weekend off and I don't want to hear any arguments. Connor, zip it. Home, all of you. Back here at 9am on Monday. The only reason we'll be back in this building will be a life or death emergency and if I hear otherwise then you'll have me to answer to. Got it?"

"Got it…"

"Good. Connor?"

"Yeah, yeah… I heard you..."

"Then pack up and turn everything off and let's go…"

"I'll just be…"

"No." Connor glanced up at the change in Nick's tone, swallowing audibly as the Scotsman continued in his no-nonsense brogue, "You'll do it now. I have a home to go to as well, and frankly, I don't trust you lot to not stay late finishing reports. The reports go on my desk at 9am on Monday and we'll all be happy. Now turn that computer off and get your stuff. iGo!"/i

Connor jumped at the sharp command, scrambling to save his reports before setting the computer systems to fire down. While the engine of the PC whirred in the background, the young genius scrambled to gather up all his bags and books, belatedly remembering he'd forgotten his coat.

Nick rolled his eyes, fighting a smile and turned towards Stephen while they waited. "You going to go home and rest, Hart?"

"I can't wait to have a hot shower and crawl into bed. I'm going to see about doing that diving course this weekend, since I have enough time now…"

"The solo diving one? That's a good idea, would be a valuable qualification to get. For this work, and for expeditions at the University. It's not always easy to collect data side by side so it'll certainly pay off if you can fit it in. Don't overdo it though, eh?"

Stephen rolled his eyes, giving his boss a grin. "I won't, Cutter. I'm not an idiot…"

Nick held up his hands in mock surrender. "Did I say that? I just don't want you developing your hero complex further. Night, Stephen. Connor, get a move on… iNow./i"

Before the Scot could run out of patience, Abby appeared with Connor's coat in hand, offering him a knowing smile. "You go on home, Nick, I'll make sure he's sorted."

Nick frowned, not convinced, but he wanted nothing more than to relax in front of the TV with a good documentary and a finger -or three- of whisky. "Sure?"

Abby smiled, nodding as she waved him away. "Yeah. Go on, you look like you could do with a sleep…"

Nick grunted in response. He didn't need to be told twice. He said his goodbyes and left the building in the direction Stephen had gone, relieved to have the chance to spend the next few days in peace; no questions every two minutes or constant arguments questioning his authority. He spied Abby and Connor locking up as he drove out of the carpark and let the weight of work -and Helen- drop off his shoulders for the weekend.

center***/center

Rain fell in sleets, heavy enough to make Stephen question why the bloody hell he'd decided to spend a weekend diving. In October, no less. He'd been lucky to be learning with one of the instructors who was also one of his friends from University days, but even that was of little comfort to him now. The water was surrounding him, murky as swirls of sand got caught in currents nearby and making everything seem a little darker. Despite the goggles and breathing apparatus, he felt trapped. It was like he couldn't get any oxygen, and everything around him was darker. He had no idea which way was up or down and for a moment all his experience in the water floated out of his mind.

For a few minutes, the world seemed to spin around him and everything dimmed down but then he was breaking through the water and the small inflatable boat (dinghy?) was floating nearby, Tom watching out for him with concern. "Stephen? Are you alright, mate?"

Stephen nodded, tugging out his mouthpiece as he forced himself to swim the short distance. He was sweating by the time Tom hauled him into the boat, shivering and gasping in lungfuls of fresh air. Then his cough was making an appearance and he was doubled over as pain rippled through his chest in unrelenting waves.

He came around a few minutes later, blinking in confusion as he took in his surroundings. It had stopped raining. When did that happen? He started to sit up but a gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Hnh?"

"Give it a minute, mate. You nearly went over the side of the boat when you lost it there. Don't rush."

"I'm okay, I just got a little dizzy…"

"You fainted, Steve. I've called ahead for Medical, we'll get you checked out in a few minutes when we get back. Just you rest in the meantime…"

Stephen frowned as he registered the worry on Tom's face. "Medical...? What? I don't bloody need prodded and fussed over!"

"Shush. I need to get you checked over. I don't imagine Nick'll appreciate this act. Your skin's blue and your teeth are chattering so hard it's a wonder they haven't chipped yet. And that cough… Steve, you shouldn't have been in the water today. I thought you were coughing up blood at one point…"

Tom was relieved to be greeted by silence. He knew Stephen was probably furious about having a medical forced upon him, but his friend was exhausted and clearly feeling like hell so right now he didn't really care. Steering with one hand, he reached over to tug the foil blanket further up around Hart's shoulders, letting off a sigh. He couldn't do much else until they were on dry land. Thankfully it didn't take long to steer the small engine powered boat back to shore, despite the choppy waves lapping at its underside or the chill wind blowing against them, and Stephen soon came awake to people surrounding him, prodding and poking and talking quickly as they checked his vitals. The effect was smothering on the usually fiercely independent lab tech, but he felt too exhausted to fight them properly and soon lay back, letting them take over.

center***/center

Stephen was vaguely aware of people bustling around him, but it wasn't until a familiar Scottish brogue sounded somewhere above him that he started to become alert. He groaned, forcing his eyes open. His fears were confirmed when he saw Nick arguing with one of the medics in his sharp lilt. "Cutter? What're you doing here?"

Nick stopped his rant abruptly as he registered Stephen's cracked voice and he spun on his heel, closing the distance between them quickly. "You're awake. What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

"I wanted to get my diving certificate while we had time off…"

"You could have bloody been killed! How long've you been sick?"

Stephen grimaced. His head was pounding, and he felt sick. "A week maybe," he admitted eventually, allowing his eyes to close in defeat. Nick huffed, cursing under his breath, and scowled at him.

"A week?! Are you stupid?"

Stephen frowned, starting to feel defensive. "Well, the University doesn't think so…" He shot back hotly before doubling over as a fresh bout of coughing wracked his frame.

Nick scowled in response, moving closer and tugging the space blanket draped over his colleague's shoulders more tightly round him. "You should have told me you were struggling."

"So that you could ban me from the office for a week? I have work to do, Cutter."

"You're still going to be spending a week at home, and that's not including the time you're going to be stuck in the hospital. Don't start. You know better than this, Stephen. Our job doesn't leave room for foolishness or risking our health; what we do is dangerous enough." Nick paused, stepping back as paramedics bustled back over and prepared to move Stephen onto a stretcher so they could transport him to hospital to be checked over.

Stephen was about to protest when Connor appeared by Nick's shoulder, talking at his usual jumbled pace and eyeing his friend with obvious worry. Connor looked a little pale, prompting Stephen to decide that this was a battle that wasn't worth initiating. He huffed to himself and laid his head back, relieved to be horizontal again. Everything ached, and he just wanted to have a hot shower and sleep for the next few days.

He lay quiet while the medics moved him and set off for the nearest hospital, relieved to escape Nick's angry scowl and Connor's worried glances. He dreaded to think what Abbie and Lester would have to say about him making them worry. Their team was a close-knit one, and each member of the ARC played a crucial role, meaning that when one of them was injured or ill it was felt strongly by all of them. Stephen knew that his team was hardly going to be pleased to hear how long he'd been feeling under the weather. He sighed, moving around on the gurney he lay on until he felt more comfortable and closed his eyes as the ambulance's engine roared to life. He couldn't do anything to assuage their fears at the moment, so he did the next best thing, closing his eyes and dozing while the pretty brunette paramedic taking care of him bustled about. The noises of equipment being moved and machinery beeping were oddly soothing and he soon found himself drifting in a happy state of obliviousness. Of course, he'd probably been given something to have this effect, but right now he was content to let it take over and ease him into a sense of weightlessness. Everything faded away and he was soon sleeping again.

center***/center

Stephen woke to the scent of disinfectant and hushed voices speaking somewhere above him. His head throbbed, and he felt like his throat was closed over. He coughed, doubling up, until he managed to clear it, then gasped in a desperate breath. When he opened his eyes, he realised Cutter was in the room, stood a few paces behind a nurse who had come to check over him. "Nice to see you back in the land of the living, Mr Hart. I'm Angela," she greeted, offering him a sunny smile. "How do you feel?"

"My head hurts. What happened?"

"By all accounts, you took a tumble while out diving. We've run some tests and should have the results soon, but it looks like you've got pneumonia. The doctor'll be along soon to check your vitals, but we'll probably keep you in until the worst of it settles."

Stephen sat up, shaking his head. "That's not necessary. A few days at home and I'll be just fine."

The nurse offered him a knowing smile. "I'm afraid the Doctor's already ruled that out until you're on the mend. With the dizziness you've been experiencing, it's not safe for you to be by yourself until your fever breaks."

"I'm not staying here, I'll discharge myself. I'm fine."

"Stephen," Cutter interrupted sharply, stepping into his protégé's field of vision with his arms crossed over his chest. I suggest you close that smart mouth of yours before you do damage. You are inot/i fine. You've just been bloody hospitalized because you were so determined to pretend you were fine. Enough of this rubbish. If the doctor says you're staying in, then you're staying in. Are we clear?"

"Cutter, you're being ridiculous! This is unnecessary."

Cutter's eyes narrowed. "Oh, on the contrary Stephen, I think this is very necessary. Angela?"

The nurse had been glancing between them uncertainly, concerned that Stephen might try to get out of bed to prove a point. At Nick's quiet call she looked back to him with a questioning smile.

"What time will the doctor be here?"

Angela glanced at her watch but was interrupted when the door opened and a doctor a little older than Nick stepped inside. "Ah, you're awake. Nice to see you looking a little brighter, Stephen. My name's Dr Prentice. Let's have a look at those vitals. Angela's probably already warned you I want you to stay in for a couple of days. The more rest you get, the sooner we'll have you on the mend."

Stephen managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. He had no intention of staying in a hospital for the foreseeable future. Nick seemed to read his body language because when Stephen caught his eye, his boss was positively scowling at him. Stephen had only seen that look aimed in his direction a couple of times before and it didn't bode well for him. Usually, a glare like that was exclusively reserved for Connor and Stephen wished that his bumbling younger friend would make an appearance and steal the attention for a while.

The room was quiet as Dr Prentice checked him over, jotting observations down on Stephen's patient chart. "Angela, can you get another bag of sodium chloride for that IV? This one's running low. Thanks. Stephen, I'll be honest, you're looking to have made an improvement already. If you keep this up, then we can hopefully send you home this weekend. I'm just not comfortable sending you home in this state; you're very dehydrated and your body is completely overwrought. Although I don't think you have the most severe of cases of pneumonia, this is one of the more concerning cases I've seen in a little while. I don't want to risk you ending up back here because you got another bout of that nausea and got hurt from a fall or similar."

Stephen tried his best not to seethe; he really did. He managed not to get aggressive, but he couldn't help the muttered curse about how ridiculous the whole situation was. Thankfully, Nick stepped in before Stephen could really lose his temper. "Excuse me, Doc. If Stephen were to stay where he had support whilst recovering, would you reconsider letting him leave tonight or tomorrow morning?"

Dr Prentice ran a hand through his hair, considering. "If someone was able to monitor Mr Hart's progress and make sure he didn't try to over exert himself and got plenty of rest and fluids then yes, I could be flexible. Do you have someone in mind?"

Cutter nodded, "I'll do it. I've known him for years, we've worked together for most of them and he was a student at the University I teach at before that. I can take a few days off and make sure he recovers."

Dr Prentice smiled, turning to Stephen with eyebrows raised. "Would that be a suitable compromise for you?"

"Is it my only chance of getting home?" Stephen asked in obvious resignation. There were worse compromises, he thought glumly. He just didn't have the energy to spend the next week fighting with Cutter. Then again, Nick tended to be very work oriented so within a few days Stephen was fairly confident his friend would stop watching over him like a hawk. He just needed to get through the next 48 hours.

"I think so. Nick seems like a man of his word. If he's willing to take responsibility then I'll discharge you tomorrow morning, provided you've not gotten any worse overnight. Deal?"

Stephen shared a look with Cutter for a moment before nodding and offering the doctor a bright smile. "Deal. Thanks, doc. Uh, when's dinner being served?"

It was Angela's turn to laugh this time. "You slept right through it. I'll go and see if I can track down some soup for you. It's after 8."

"Eight?! But I was diving at lunchtime…"

"Your body's been under a lot of strain recently. See? It's dark out…" Angela tilted the blinds open so Stephen could see she was telling the truth, then closed the curtains over. "I'll be back soon, try and get some rest."

Stephen nodded, thanking her again, then thanked the doctor again for agreeing to jailbreak him early. He laid back against the pillows and listened as Nick and the doctor talked a little longer and tried to ignore the dull throb in his head. "Stephen? What's wrong?"

"Mm?"

"I know you. That's your 'I'm in pain and don't want to show it' face. What is it?"

"Oh, it's just a headache. I'll be alright."

"I'll give him something to ease the pain so he can sleep."

Stephen sighed but accepted the painkillers without any hassle. By the time his soup arrived and he'd eaten he felt exhausted and eagerly agreed when Nick stood and told him to get some sleep half an hour later. "I'll be back in the morning, alright? Don't do anything stupid tonight. Sleep well, Stephen."

Stephen managed to mumble a tired goodnight and slipped into a deep sleep, tiredly hoping he'd sleep through the night without any of his recent coughing bouts to wake him.

center***/center

Stephen was bored. True to his word, Dr Prentice had signed off on his patient's discharge the morning after Stephen's unplanned hospital visit and he'd now been staying with Nick for three days. Cutter wouldn't let him do ianything/i except take a piss. In fairness, Nick had a nice house. The Scot lived a short journey away from London in a three-bed townhouse that he'd bought with his late wife, Helen. The decor was pleasant and the couch, Stephen had soon discovered, was very comfortable for a captive audience.

Nick had conceded to letting his patient watch television during the day, but he wouldn't let him make any food or make himself a bloody cup of tea. Stephen sat fuming on the couch having just been sent back to his nest of blankets by one fed up, cranky Scotsman. Nick appeared beside him with a cup of tea and a couple of biscuits, clearly trying to placate him. "I could have made it myself," Stephen muttered angrily even as he reached out to accept the mug.

"Maybe. But you agreed to do as you were told, and you're going to do just that. Now, settle down and drink up. A good cuppa makes everything seem better," Nick countered calmly. He was pleased to see Stephen on the mend now that he'd been resting for a few days. The doctor had given Stephen antibiotics which seemed to be having an effect, thankfully. The older man wasn't sure how long either of them would manage if his protégé didn't recover quickly. Stephen was wildly independent so being cooped up like this had to be hard for his colleague. Nick knew that, and he idid/i feel sympathetic for him, but Stephen had been idiotic going diving while simultaneously lying about being unwell, and Nick didn't plan to give him an inch.

A knock at the door got Nick's attention, and apparently piqued his guest's interest too; Stephen was halfway down the hallway corridor before Nick realised he was being followed and stopped to block the younger man's path. "Sit," he warned impatiently, grimacing as the bell sounded again. "Stephen, I mean it. I'm this..." he paused, holding his thumb and forefinger up an inch apart. "...far from dealing with your constant insubordination and lack of care for your health with more than a stern frown. When I get back, you better be on that couch sipping your tea. Got that?"

Stephen huffed, scowling, but recognized he was fighting a losing battle. "Fine," he growled as he turned on his heel and stamped back towards the lounge. Nick pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the urge to go back and tear Stephen a new one, then strolled to the front door and wrenched it open. "Abby, hi. Where's Connor?"

Abby rolled her eyes, glancing down the street as though she expected Lester to appear unexpectedly. "He, um… He's in the car. He was going to get a cab over, but I got home before he left. Nick, he's not well…"

Cutter groaned. "How ill?" he asked suspiciously, tugging the sleeves of his jumper down further over his hands. It was going to be a cold Winter if the past month was anything to go by.

"Quite ill. He's insisting he needs to drop off some work and apparently it's his turn to keep Stephen company so you can get to work for a while. But Cutter, he needs to rest. He wouldn't listen to me, you know what he's like… I think he's behind on his reports…"

"Aye. Again. Alright, go and fetch him. I'll find some blankets and see what's going on. Can you get him inside or is he too unwell to walk?"

Abby smiled, giving Nick's forearm a gentle pat. "That's okay, I can get him. Why don't you go put the kettle on? We'll just be a minute."

"Thanks, Abby."

Nick left the door ajar despite the bitter chill in the air and headed inside to reboil the kettle, sincerely hoping Stephen had had the good sense to do as he was told. The more time went by, the more Nick realised he needed to make certain that his mentee knew he wasn't off the hook by a long stretch. This wasn't the first time Stephen had behaved recklessly and risked his safety and Nick was getting fed up of trying to rein him in verbally. He thought back on their relationship over the past few years -almost a decade, in fact- and was reminded of how he'd dealt with Stephen's more reckless and ill-advised actions years before.

He didn't imagine Stephen would want to accept a spanking but at this point, Nick didn't really care what Stephen wanted. If it was true that Connor was now ill too, then Nick had a feeling it directly correlated with Connor's hero worship of his friend. Stephen was almost like an older brother to the boy genius, in their weird version of family, and Nick didn't doubt for a minute that Connor would probably do just about anything to emulate Stephen's 'courage'. Nick was glad that they seemed to be getting past their initial irritations with one another, but he wasn't prepared to deal with the headaches that came with worrying about both of them doing something stupid at the same time. The sooner he saw Connor and could establish just how unwell he was, the better.

Connor appeared in the doorway a couple of minutes later, laptop in hand. He was pale as he took in his surroundings curiously; he'd never been to Nick's home before and was eager to try and get a better feel for his gruff boss by the way he lived. Surprise graced his features as he took in the homely feel of the flat and he turned to scrutinise Nick thoughtfully. Throw blankets covered the matching couch suite and there was a rug and low oak coffee table in the centre of the room. The kitchen was just off from the living area and featured a breakfast island in the middle of a fairly small but modern kitchen. Connor wasn't sure what he'd been expecting but it wasn't this. He offered Nick a smile. "Hi Cutter... Uh… I just wanted to check this report over with you… I…"

A wracking cough interrupted his statement, making Nick near drop his mug in alarm. "What the hell…? Connor, are you alright? Give me the computer and sit yourself down."

Connor shook his head, struggling to regain his breath and speak at the same time. "I'm o..k...kay…" He countered, trying to smile.

"Connor."

Connor gulped at Nick's tone, shooting Abby a glance before turning to Stephen for help when he realised she wouldn't be much help to him. "Better do as he says, Con. Good man. Nick? He's got the same bug I've had. That's how mine started a week or so ago."

Nick blinked at Stephen's smooth switch into protective mode, glancing between both boys as he tried to figure out what the hell to do with his latest patient. "You sure?" At Stephen's nod, he sighed. "Connor, how long have you been feeling like this?"

"Um… A week? Maybe… No, more like four days… S'just a cold…"

"The hell is that just a cold. Alright, you're staying here till it passes. I can keep an eye on you both much easier in one place. Abby, are you also coming down with this?"

"No boss, Rex and I are good. You need me to help out?"

"I'll have words with Lester and Claudia, let them know what's going on. If you're up to speed, I might need you to come over, so I can get out for a bit and check in with Claudia. I'll end up killing someone if we're all cooped up all week. Connor! iSit. Down. /i Do I have to take that bloody computer off you? No? Then stop that."

Connor stopped trying to move through to the island to do some work, looking sheepish. He started to cough again, leaning back into the couch cushions as a way of dizziness washed over him. "I'll sleep on the couch, boss… I'm sorry for causing so much bother."

"You'll do no such thing. I'll set up the master bedroom for you. I'll take the couch. Right, now that's sorted I'll get the bed ready. Abby, can you heat up the soup in the kitchen? It's my mum's recipe from when I was sick as a kid. Works wonders… I won't be long."

He headed upstairs, quickly stripping the bed and making it up afresh, then went to track down a spare duvet and pillow for himself. He was glad Helen had talked him into a pull-out sofa bed for when they -hopefully- had children of their own, or nieces and nephews. It took him a few minutes to track down everything down and by the time he stepped back into the lounge with his arms full, both Connor and Stephen were asleep. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment but then he grinned, shaking his head in amusement. It figured that he'd spent hours trying to get Stephen to sleep and all he'd needed to do was leave the room for 10 minutes.

He deposited the blankets in one corner by the couch Connor lay on, then went into the kitchen to find Abby, hoping for some fresh ideas on how to manage his headstrong subordinates while they recovered.

center***/center

Stepping through the doors of the ARC centre was like arriving home after far too long away. The familiar bustle of their small office building was soothing to his frayed nerves and he took a moment to appreciate the scene playing out before him. Lester appeared at the doorway of his own office, calling down to him in his familiar brand of passive-aggressive sarcasm. "Ah, Cutter. Good to see you back. I must admit I was surprised to see Stephen and Connor in so soon; your email suggested we wouldn't see any of you until next week. Then again, I guess it's hardly a shock that you just can't seem to stay away, hmm?"

Nick stared at him dumbly for a minute until he processed what Lester was saying. "Stephen and Connor aren't back at work yet… They're on bed rest."

"Mm, no…" James countered, spreading his palms in question, "They're not. In fact, I believe they're down that corridor catching up on the work they've missed this past week. I'll let you speak to them then?"

Cutter swore under his breath, suddenly not content in his surroundings. The staff pottering about the room had seen enough of his bad moods to know that the best way to protect themselves was to steer well clear of him as he stormed across the main area on his way to the offices where his colleagues would be.

When he found them, Connor was -thankfully- sitting down at a desk, laptop connected to the system so that he could analyse the frequency of the anomalies he'd missed while staying with Nick and Stephen. Stephen, on the other, hand… Stephen was nowhere to be found.

Nick was about to make his presence known when Connor spoke, not glancing up from his laptop. "Stephen, mate, give me a few more minutes… I think I've found one! D'you really think we have enough time? Cutter…"

"Cutter wants to know why the hell you're in work, after being told you could return itomorrow/i. What's going on?"

"Oh… Cutter. Hi. Um... " Connor trailed off awkwardly as his mind scrambled to come up with a way to justify his previous words.

"Connor. What's going on? And where the hell iis/i Stephen?"

Connor scratched the back on his neck nervously. He'd known this scheme of Stephen's wouldn't work. "Um… He went to the gym…" he admitted nervously, "About half an hour ago."

"Damn it, Stephen. What are you two planning?"

Connor looked round the computer lab in a desperate attempt to avoid his mentor's stern gaze. "Nothing?"

"Nothing, my arse. I don't like repeating myself."

"Stephen might have suggested we pop in and catch up on our work. And, uh, maybe find an anomaly to take care of…"

"For Christ's sake, Connor, you've had pneumonia like symptoms for a week! Neither of you are up to chasing a bloody anomaly across London. Pack up your computer and then wait for me in the lobby. And I swear… If you're not there, there'll be hell to pay. We clear?"

"Got it. Um… Right. I'll just…"

Nick rolled his eyes as Connor scrambled to obey, turning on his heel and storming through the familiar labyrinth of corridors until he reached the gym. "Hart! What the hell are you playing at?"

"Cutter? Oh, hi." Stephen barely looked up from his position at the treadmill, eager to try and push so he could stay near to his average time for the past month. Nick watched in disbelief. The gym wasn't huge, but it had plenty of equipment to help their field team stay in shape, with a wall of lockers on one side and cardio and weights machines at various locations around the fitness suite. A shower block and changing area were off the corridor Nick had just walked along, and the recreation room for the team with kitchen, games consoles and an assortment of comfortable chairs was also accessible from the corridor.

Nick growled, clearing his throat meaningfully. "Get your arse off that machine before I do it for you. I can't believe you'd be this stupid, Hart... "

"Oh, sod off, Cutter. I've nearly finished."

"You'll finish now, or you'll suffer the consequences for disobeying a direct order while putting yourself in danger. We haven't been here in a fair while, but I iknow/i you know exactly where this is headed." Nick paused in concern as Stephen almost went down on the treadmill, wide eyes turned to the older man in disbelief. "Aye, you know exactly what I'm talking about, and unless you want it to happen right here then I suggest you stop that machine and collect your things. I won't ask again, Stephen. Do the right thing."

Stephen swallowed and, after a moment's hesitation, hit the button to stop the treadmill. Silence filled the room as the machine slowed to a halt. Nick gave him time to do as he'd been asked, easily recognising the slow obedience for the reality it was; Stephen was trying but it took a lot for his pride to back down. He waited as patiently as he could, forcing himself not to bark out orders for the younger man to hurry up.

Time seemed to drag by, but eventually Stephen was ready. The younger man glanced over at him uncertainly, opening his mouth to speak, but Nick shook his head. "Not now. Let's go. Connor will be beside himself waiting for us." Cutter knew he was talking in short, clipped sentences but he couldn't believe how foolish and bloody ireckless/i Stephen had been.

They left quickly, not even bothering to talk to anyone on the way out; Nick could phone Lester when he got his miscreants back down on the couch with a drink and a movie. He mostly just ignored Stephen until they arrived at the Hilux, trusting his assistant to follow him without being watched over. He didn't doubt that having to follow your boss through your workplace like a misbehaving puppy had to be embarrassing but if he was honest, the Scotsman couldn't care less.

When they arrived at the car, he wrenched the back-passenger door open and pointed a finger at the car's interior. "In," he ordered with much more patience than he felt.

Stephen balked. "What? Cutter, come on. I…"

"You are in more than enough trouble without arguing with me right now. If I have to tell you again there'll be consequences."

Stephen's mouth opened and closed stubbornly but soon he gave in, sliding into car beside Connor with a scowl aimed at his palms. Nick gave one solitary nod before closing the door with more force than was strictly necessary and got into the driver's seat. The drive home was silent; not the usual, it wasn't comfortable silence their team sometimes lapsed into but a thick, heavy silence that hung in the air like a smog.

It felt like an eternity until Nick pulled into the driveway of his suburban house. "Straight inside and sit yourself down. Understood?"

Two quiet sounds of agreement greeted the instruction and he nodded, getting out. He led the way to the house, opening the front door before stepping aside so they can make their way past him. Connor went first, scampering in as fast as his shaky legs would take him. Stephen followed at a more sedate pace, temper oozing from his every pore. Nick waited until Stephen was nearly past him before catching hold of his bicep and leaning in close. "You know how this goes, son. I'm already planning to wallop you thoroughly for your foolhardy and downright dangerous actions, I suggest you lose this attitude before I add to your crimes," he growled in his low timbre.

Stephen had the decency to blush and closed his eyes, forcing himself to suck in a calming breath before giving a small nod. Nick gave a sharp nod in answer and let go abruptly. He watched with satisfaction as Stephen went straight to the lounge and dropped onto the couch without argument.

He waited a couple of minutes before joining them. Both boys seemed to be finding their hands interesting and Nick almost had to laugh; he imagined this must be what it was like to be a father to teenagers or something. He sat down on the coffee table in front of them, relieved that it was solid oak and could take his weight. Eyeing them both in silence for a moment he spoke quietly and without preamble. "Whose fault was it?" he asked, although he already had a fairly good idea of who the ringleader was in this scheme.

Silence filled the room heavily for a couple of minutes before Stephen's voice sounded more steadily than Nick had expected. "Mine. I told Connor you wouldn't mind us catching up on work after a week off."

Nick nodded thoughtfully. "I did mind, for the record. iYou/i are recovering from pneumonia, Hart, and you, Connor, are not far behind. I'm incredibly disappointed. I thought we'd reached a point where I could trust you not to behave like moronic teenagers. Stephen, what if you'd fainted on that machine and nobody had realised? You could have been seriously hurt."

Stephen opened his mouth to protest, recognised Cutter's expression and closed it again. "I think you're overreacting a little here, Cutter, but I'm sorry I worried you."

Nick gave a single, exasperated nod and looked to Connor. "Why did you let him convince you I'd be okay with this, Connor?"

True to form, Connor blushed in embarrassment, swallowing nervously and stuttering before giving in and looking to Stephen for help.

"I didn't ask Hart, I asked you," Nick prompted firmly.

Connor blinked and looked at him nervously but eventually managed to shrug and sigh. "I don't know… It seemed… I just…"

Nick smiled knowingly. It was a chance to feel important and like you were really valued, he thought to himself sadly. He'd have to have a word with Stephen about this in due course. For now, he settled on a stern frown and his all too familiar timbre. "Alright, I think I've had enough of this discussion. Connor, head on up to your room please. I'm going to get Stephen settled then I'll be up."

He knew it would unnerve the youngest member of their team, but he wanted to give the boys the same treatment and he knew that Connor would be more spooked if he heard Stephen's 'discussion' before he faced Nick himself. Stephen, on the other hand, might feel guilty but he wouldn't be phased. Nick supposed that was because, in some strange way, they were family. He wasn't sure entirely what the implications of that were for them, but he felt surprisingly at ease at the thought. He was relieved that Connor had fled for the stairs without arguing and waited for the sound of his door closing before looking to Stephen. "I don't suppose I have to tell you what's happening here?"

Stephen sighed. "No, Cutter. I know what's going on. And I am sorry, I shouldn't have talked Connor into coming with me." He slouched a little on the couch as though accepting defeat.

Nick nodded briskly. "I'm glad you see your actions were foolish. I am going up to speak to Connor. You are going to stay right here or so help me, God, I'll take my belt off. Understood?"

"Loud and clear, Cutter," Stephen acknowledged.

"Good." Nick gave another nod. "You need a drink or anything before I go?"

Stephen thought about seriously before nodding. "Some water would be great. Thanks."

Nick retrieved a bottle of water and one of the protein cereal bars he knew Stephen liked, handing them to the younger man and making sure he was settled before sighing and heading for the stairs with a soft order to shout if Stephen needed anything.

It wasn't until he'd shut the door to the living room that he let out a huff of breath, forcibly calming himself down. He just didn't know how his team managed to get into so much bloody bother. Well, no, he did. Stephen was trying to prove himself while Connor? Connor seemed to have imprinted on Stephen and needed his affirmation or something ridiculous.

The trudge upstairs seemed both painfully long and unbelievably short as he tried to figure out how best to handle his conversation with Connor. He was well aware that he could be gruff by nature, which the shy, sensitive and somewhat awkward young man currently hiding in his guest room often didn't respond very well to. Cutter knew that was an understatement of impressive proportions, but he couldn't think of a better way to put it.

He sighed as he reached the top of the stairs, rubbing a tired hand over his stubble. Just get it over with, Cutter, he chided himself wearily. Man up.

He steeled himself with a deep breath to drain the tension from his shoulders, then knocked on the door briskly before stepping into the room. As he'd suspected, Connor was perched on the bed, knees drawn up under his chin and brown eyes murky with concern. Nick sighed. This would be every bit as hard as he'd expected. He sat down on the bed and patted the mattress beside him. "Sit up and talk to me, Connor," he requested in a soft tone. No use pushing too hard; Stephen was used to discussions like this, but he imagined this was a very new kind of discussion for the boy genius here.

Silence stretched out between them for a long moment before he heard the unmistakable sound of Connor shuffling closer. Nick patted the younger man's thigh when it came into view. "Thank you. Now, son, you want to tell me what that was all about today?"

Connor shrugged guiltily. "I don't know… Stephen made it sound so fun… I knew you wouldn't exactly be thrilled but it sounded fun and I was bored and…" the student trailed off.

"And you wanted to prove yourself to Stephen, to show him how fun and cool and you could be," Nick finished for him.

Connor blushed. "...Maybe. Uh, maybe a little, yeah."

"Was it worth it?" Nick asked, genuinely curious.

Connor thought about it seriously. "Kind of? Maybe? I don't really know if I'm honest. It felt good but, you know… this doesn't feel good."

"No, I imagine it doesn't. I'm not going to lie, Con, it's going to feel worse before I'm finished. You put your health at risk and that isn't acceptable. It isn't acceptable when it's not necessary. Our job is dangerous, I know that like the best of them, but you two have had borderline pneumonia. Well no, Stephen had pneumonia. You seem to have avoided the worst of it. But details aside, I take the health of our team very seriously and this behaviour wasn't okay. Now, I could suspend you for not following your boss' orders, but…" Nick swallowed and steeled himself. "But I've found other methods work more effectively and are over with faster. I'm going to handle it the way it was handled back in days gone by."

Connor looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about? Cutter? What do you mean?"

"Shh, take a deep breath." Nick waited for Connor to obey before continuing. "I'm not going to beat around the bush here, Connor. I'm going to give you a spanking that I hope you remember next time you go to do something needlessly reckless in future."

Connor stared at him in open mouthed shock before shaking his head abruptly and sliding away from Cutter to what seemed like a safer distance.

Cutter sighed. He'd had a feeling this would be how things went down. "Hey, stop that," he ordered softly. "I'm not going to maim you, son. You go over my knee, you get a sore arse and then it's done. All forgiven, friends again."

Connor tilted his head curiously and gave him a shyly hopeful look. "Friends?"

Nick offered him a dry smile and rolled his eyes. "Of course," he assured him. "You daft boy. More than that, we're a family. This team is family and that's why I won't let this slide."

Connor still looked terrified, but Nick watched, impressed, as he steeled himself. Apparently Connor had just needed to know this was his family, because he bravely slid back towards Nick and swallowed nervously. "Okay, I'm ready…"

"Good man. Over here then." Nick reached out to pull Connor over his knees while he was falling. It was almost less painful for them both to do it that way than to wait for Connor get himself over here.

Connor let out an, "Oomph!" as he landed but otherwise didn't protest. He squirmed until he found the most comfortable position under the circumstances then waited tensely.

Nick gave him a minute to adjust before resting his left arm over the younger man's back and raising his right hand. He brought it down with a crisp smack on one cheek, then the other. He kept his pace slow at first, figuring it would be less overwhelming for the boy genius that way.

It didn't take long for him to start squirming and protesting, let off small kicks as the fire in his backside built. Nick had been expecting that. Stephen had always been stoic when over his knee, but he'd anticipated that Connor might be polar opposite; Connor was generally vocal with his opinions and issues whereas Stephen was much more of an internal processor.

He ignored Connor's protests until he could see that the younger man seemed to have learned his lesson, then spoke in his low timbre. "Are you going to needlessly risk your health and safety in future?" He asked as he continued to spank at a slower pace.

Connor shook his head, his eyes wiping away at the tears spilling down his cheeks. "N-no, Cut-Cutter…"

"I'm glad to hear that. If you do risk your life and health again while disobeying a direct order, this is what you'll have to look forward to…" He landed a dozen heavy spanks that had Connor arching up against the hand on his back and kicking harder. "Are we clear?"

Connor nodded sincerely.

"Good. I need to be able to trust you and I can't do that when you go sneaking behind my back. Next time Stephen tries to take you into something dangerous, you tell me about it and I'll have words with him."

Another nod answered him.

Nick sighed, steeling himself to finish up. "Alright then, nearly done." He dished out the last round to the undercurve of Connor's backside and his thighs, making them memorable, then stopped and patted his back. "Finished. You're alright, son. I'm not upset anymore. Just breathe now."

Connor obediently sucked in a breath, gradually starting to calm down. It took a few minutes of Nick patiently patting his back before Connor made a move to stand. Nick let go of him and helped him up. Connor stood awkwardly, eyes dark and stormy, and tentatively reached a hand back to rub at his backside. "Sorry…" he mumbled at the ground. It was the most subdued Nick had ever seen the young man who'd somehow made his way under Nick's wing.

Nick smiled and stood, pulling him into a strong hug. "I know, lad. Let's try not to repeat this situation again, eh? I don't think with of us enjoyed that in the slightest. I know you respect Stephen and want to prove yourself, but if you know he's doing something daft then you'll actually impress both he and I much more by standing up and being a man by not caving to him. Stephen will respect you for it, even if he grumbles about it."

Connor sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "I should've looked out for him better."

"I reckon he's feeling the exact same way downstairs. All forgiven now, son. How about you lie down for a bit, eh? That must have been draining. I need to have words with Stephen but then I'll get some dinner on and you two can fight it out for which movie we watch tonight. Sound alright?"

Connor nodded. "Sounds good. Bet I can talk him into Lord of the Rings tonight. Would you mind if I shower quickly first?"

Nick shook his head. "By all means. Take it easy though, and if you need me, bloody well shout me. Understood? I'll be quite displeased if you keel over on me."

Connor offered him a sheepish grin. "Got it. Thanks. Uh, don't be too hard on him…"

Nick smiled, standing up to squeeze his shoulder. "He'll be no worse off than you, son. Do me a favour though and stay upstairs till I come back up, would you? It'll hurt his pride more than anything getting an earful from me."

Connor nodded in understanding. "Yes Sir."

"Good lad. Try and get some rest." Nick made his way back downstairs. He was relieved to see Stephen still perched on the couch, though the younger scientist looked tense as a bowstring.

Nick sat down on the couch beside him silently, leaning forward with his elbows resting loosely on his knees, his chin wearily on his hands.

"Is he okay?" Stephen asked through gritted teeth. He was starting to feel very guilty about leading his teammate astray.

"He will be," Nick answered honestly. "He's gone for a shower, then he'll try and sleep. Now it's your turn, son. Do we need to discuss this further or can we get it done and by and move on from this?"

Stephen sighed heavily, setting aside his mug. "We can get on with it. I know I messed up."

"Alright, good man. First, give me your slipper." Nick had debated long and hard about this because Stephen was still not fully fit, but his protege had been reckless and daft and had dragged Connor into it and he needed to put measures in place to ensure this didn't happen again anytime soon.

As he'd expected, Stephen paled a little. "My… what?"

"Your slipper," Nick repeated patiently.

"Why?" The younger man asked with dread.

Nick raised his brows, fighting off amusement. "Do you really need me to answer that?"

"No. Definitely not…" Stephen groaned. He reached down to slide his mule-skin slippers off and handed one to his mentor.

"Wise choice." Nick offered him an approving smile. "You know the drill."

He waited for Stephen to move himself so he was laying over Nick's knees. Usually he would bend over a desk or the dining room table or similar, but Nick didn't want to risk him hurting his ribs again.

For the next few minutes, the only sound in the room was that of Nick's palm connecting with Stephen's backside. Unlike Connor, his assistant didn't make a sound other than a few groans of discomfort. Nick made sure each wallop counted, hoping to get this over with quickly.

It took longer than he'd have liked, but soon Stephen's legs began to jerk, and his breathing became less even. Nick paused, resting his own burning right hand on Stephen's thigh. "Are we on the same page here, Stephen? You don't put your health at risk, and you certainly don't put your teammates in danger while you're doing it. We are a family on this team, and I expect better from you. Connor practically hero worships you. I want you to apologise to him, and I want your word that you'll think next time, before your pull more of these hairbrained stunts with no good reason."

"Got it, Cutter. I'll do better, I swear." Stephen's breath was coming out in short sharp huffs and Nick could see the words had affected him.

"I'll hold you to that, lad." With that, he picked up Steven's slipper and grasped it firmly in his hand. Then he brought it down with a loud thwack against the younger man's undercurve. Stephen's grunt was a lot unhappier this time.

Nick made quick work of removing Stephen's ability to sit down anytime soon, determined to make this lesson stick for at least a while. He was under no illusions that they'd be here again eventually. It was just who Stephen was and all Nick could really do was guide him and keep his more dangerous stunts to a minimum.

When Stephen was crying softly into his arms, the Scot stopped with a sigh. "Alright, lad. All done. I forgive you." He knew Stephen well and knew he didn't need to bring him beyond the beginnings of tears, because the tears themselves showed a vulnerability that not many saw from Stephen's tough guy appearance. "You take as long as you need. I'm here."

Stephen cried a while longer but eventually sat up, moving slowly so as not to jar his injuries. "Sorry, Cutter. Really."

Nick offered him a small smile. "I know, son. It's over now. No need to talk about it more. It's in the past. You want another drink?"

Hart nodded, grateful that Nick knew to back off and give him room to process what had happened without coddling him too much. "Diet Coke would be great. Thanks."

"You got it. Be right back." Nick went to the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with three cans and a plate of biscuits. "What? That took it out of all of us."

Stephen laughed and shook his head in amusement. "It's a wonder you're fourteen stone and not forty-four with the number of shortbread fingers you eat, Cutter." He sighed. "I hope he's okay."

"He is. He's stronger than people realise. You know what'll make him feel more okay?"

Hart looked up at him curiously.

"He's got his heart set on Lord of the Rings tonight. If you suggest it, it'll likely make his week…" Nick grinned at him.

"What a geek…" But Stephen was grinning back. He was a closet Middle Earth-er and they both knew it. "I think I could manage that. But only if you make your famous nachos."

"I guess I could do. Connor hasn't tried them yet. Speaking of, why don't you close your eyes for a few minutes and I'll check I have the ingredients for a feast?"

Stephen sighed but willingly reclined into the mountain of pillows his boss had sources. He yawned and closed his eyes in obvious exhaustion while Nick headed for the kitchen. The older man shook his head in amusement as he searched the cupboards for ingredients.

Those two were incorrigible, but he was beginning to realise that he wouldn't be without either of them or this patchwork family he seemed to have gained this past year.