I had this idea last night, and once I had the idea it didn't take long to straighten it out and write it up. I really wanted to write more of the relationships I'd created in The Power of Love and Demons, so this is a third part to that saga (it's only a one-shot though, I don't want to commit to writing another long story with those characters right now, although I won't rule it out for the future!) I always had a few ideas of what I wanted to happen to everyone after Demons drew to a close, so I hope it reads well, and I hope you like it :)

Zoe took another drink from her cardboard cup of hot chocolate. Looking down at the newspaper in front of her, an idea started ticking away at the back of her mind. She carefully tore the article from the page, and folded it into her pocket for later.

Dylan made his way to the locker room at the end of his shift, to collect his belongings before driving himself back to the boat. He turned the key in the lock, and as he pulled the door open, a square of newspaper fluttered from between the vents in the metal. Picking it up off the ground, he scanned it and rolled his eyes. Five Border Collie puppies found abandoned, for more information call Holby Dogs' Home. Dylan made his way back to his office to gather his thoughts, completely flummoxed by the wave of emotions pushing through his mind. It had been a while now since he'd lost Dervla, but he was certain that she wouldn't have wanted him to remain dog-less for the rest of his life. And it would be much easier to ignore the ad if there wasn't a picture attached. Five black and white puppies, all wrapped around each other in a cardboard box lined with blankets. He looked up from the picture at once when there was a knock at the door.

"I thought you'd gone home?" Zoe said as she came in.

"That was the plan. Was this your doing?" he asked, waving the article in her direction. Zoe smiled wryly.

"Yes," she said, sighed as Dylan frowned. "Look at their little puppy faces though!" she wheedled.

"I am quite aware that they have puppy faces; I'd be concerned if they had faces like gibbons. I just don't think I'm ready for another dog yet." This wasn't strictly true. Dylan wanted another dog more than anything: the boat was so quiet without the regular footfalls of a four-legged creature. He couldn't put into words exactly why he felt uneasy – was it simply because he'd never considered life without Dervla, and now he was being forced to think about taking another dog under his wing? Or was it just the very slight anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach, that he didn't want to aggravate? Never poke a sleeping dragon and all that.

"I think you are ready, and it would do you good. You were practically taking that woman's dog off her outside the department this morning!"

"That would be because she was smoking near it, and it's not fair on the dog to be affected by its owner's moronic life choices."

"You're just missing having something to walk," Zoe said, her voice laced with sing-song sarcasm.

"I get the impression that you've already phoned the Dog's Home, haven't you?" Dylan said, sighing because he was so obviously right. Zoe was a spectacular friend, always knowing when it was the right choice to go barrelling into something, and when to hold back.

"Well..." she hesitated, measuring Dylan's reaction before admitting that yes, she'd already made the call.

"If I'd wanted something to walk, you know who I'd have called," Dylan said, making Zoe smile.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to bring a puppy home to the boat. He recalled bringing Dervla home for the first time, and they were memories he held closest to his heart. She'd been small enough to carry inside his jacket on the drive home, and once she'd been on a short walk around the harbour she was so exhausted that she'd fallen asleep. He remembered that feeling vividly. They'd been halfway through an episode of House MD, and Dylan was about to solve the mystery medical condition a full twenty minutes before Dr House, when he glanced down at the curled-up grey puppy, nestled between his shirt and t-shirt. Dervla had let out a soft sigh, and that was when he realised that she'd been asleep for quite some time. He had felt dreadful a few hours later, when he succumbed to tiredness himself, and had had to lift her carefully into the blanket-lined bed at the front door. He had felt less nasty when she'd woken him at four the next morning, begging to go outside.

"Have you heard from Lily recently?" Zoe asked, bringing the topic round to something Dylan would talk about far more easily.

"I have indeed, she's doing remarkably well. I think they're coming in this afternoon actually," he said, feeling proud to know some gossip that Zoe didn't.

"Oh good! I can't wait to see her. They better stick around for a while though, I always seem to get dragged into resus whenever anything good happens around here!"

Dylan looked away for a second. The last time "something good" had happened in the ED was when Ethan had proposed to Lily, and that hadn't ended too well for Dylan at all. He'd ended up making a complete fool of himself in front of everyone, and had earned himself six butterfly stitches across his forehead to boot. Zoe seemed to be reading his mind, and caught his eye.

"That doesn't count – it wasn't in resus!" She smiled, making light of it, and even Dylan managed a laugh. "But I would appreciate it if you didn't face-plant the ground again, I was putting rumours to bed for days after that."

"Duly noted. No face-planting the ground," he repeated back to her. And they really were just joking. Things were just fine now. Well, nowhere near as bad as they were. In the, what was it, three, maybe four years since Lily's accident, the department was so different. Not to mention that fact that two of its shining stars had been out of action for the last two weeks, and they'd be one doctor down for at least another six months, if Lily could be persuaded to stay at home, that is.

Lily and Ethan arrived at the ED half-way through the afternoon. They had planned to arrive a little earlier than this, but, as Ethan pointed out, this was just a trial run of how long it took to get themselves and a baby out of the front door. William Hardy was completely oblivious to the chaos he was causing in his parents' lives. Usually such organised people, it was taking some getting used to, having to add approximately forty-five minutes onto the time it usually took to get ready for anything. Lily's hair was plaited neatly down her back – tired as she was, she would never turn up to her place of work looking like a mess. Ethan rested his hand on top of hers as they entered through the big double doors, and predictably, word travelled like wildfire, so soon the couple and the pram they pushed in front of them was completely surrounded. William soon found himself being passed between the staff of the ED.

"Anyone would think they'd never seen a baby before." Lily turned around at once, at the familiar sound of Dylan's sarcastic tones. She resisted the urge to hug him, he wouldn't appreciate it in the least. It felt like so long since she'd seen him; it had been almost two months. They'd spoken on the phone of course, but that wasn't the same. She couldn't read his expression over a phone call, and that was what counted when she wanted nothing more than to check his anxieties weren't making an unwelcome reappearance. "It's nice to see you back here again."

"I never thought this place would be a source of total solace, that's for sure!" Lily joked, although there was a slight undertone of seriousness in her voice.

"Surely it's not that bad?"

"No, it's not. I'm just so tired, and..." Lily's sentence tailed off. "I'm fine."

"And that immediately tells me you're not," Dylan said wisely.

"You sound like my mother."

"Heaven forbid. When the rabble has died down, we can talk if you want. There's a cup of tea in it for you," he offered. Lily smiled, nodding.

It took a while, but eventually the rabble did die down a little, and Lily excused herself and William, with the excuse that he needed changing.

"Do you need a hand?" Ethan asked, putting an arm around his wife. She shook her head, and he left a gentle kiss on her forehead, before stroking his son's hair. He lay contentedly in his mother's arms, and his brown eyes were wide open. "You just try and keep those eyes open, all right little man? Some kind of sleep tonight would be lovely." He squeezed Lily's shoulder. "If it's okay with you, I'm going to sort things with Connie about coming back to work. I've only got a few more days, technically, but I'm going to try and use some holiday time as well -"

"You don't have to do that. Save the holidays for when we go away together, as a proper family, okay? You can go back to work next week, I don't mind."

"If you're sure.."

"I'm sure, now go." She kissed his lips, being careful to keep a balanced hold on the baby.

Dylan wasn't in his office, but Lily tried the door and it wasn't locked. She let herself in, closing the door behind her, and sat down on one of the free chairs. William wasn't nearly as cheerful as he had been when he'd been on show for the world to see. He was grizzling now, and it took Lily quite a lot of gentle bouncing and soft words of encouragement for him to finally calm down, as Dylan came into the room, closing the door almost silently.

"Now wouldn't that make a lovely picture?" he said, motioning to the apparent image of Lily sitting in his office with an almost-sleeping baby.

"Not if you'd just watched me completely fail at getting to this point," Lily whispered, trying not to sound too frustrated, because she knew babies picked up on tone of voice very quickly.

"You seem to be doing an excellent job to me," Dylan said, as he crossed the room with two mugs. "I assumed you wouldn't want me putting the kettle on in here – or more he wouldn't want me putting the kettle on in here." Lily smiled appreciatively. "So, are you okay, really?"

"There's nothing wrong with me, not really. I'm just fine." Dylan raised his eyebrows, as the baby started grumbling again. "Come on Will, calm down, there's nothing here to upset you," she said gently. Dylan looked at her eyes. There was a certain air of desperation in them, she was trying so hard to do things properly. Half of his mind told him he was going mad as he spoke next.

"Give him to me for a minute," he said.

"Really?"

"Really. Babies like low voices, so in that department at least, I can help, even if I haven't got the faintest idea what I'm meant to be doing."

"Just make sure you hold his head carefully, there you are," she said, watching as Dylan expertly held the baby to him. "You're a natural."

"Like you: you're doing a sterling job from what I've heard."

"That's not what it feels like. I love him, and I love getting to be a mum every single day, but I never know if I'm doing things right, and I worry that I'm always doing things wrong."

"That's just you worrying that you're not good enough. You've always done that, and you got rather good at working through it. You just need to find those thoughts again The ones that remind you you're good at this, and you're a brilliant mother."

They were quiet for a while, comfortable in each other's company. Will soon fell asleep on his new friend's chest, and Lily was much calmer once she'd finished her cup of tea and was no longer worrying about her performance.

"What's this about you wanting to walk my baby?" Lily said, remembering something Zoe had said to her on her way to the office. She could have sworn Dylan nearly blushed, he had that embarrassed glint in his eyes.

"You've been talking to Zoe then?"

"Only briefly, but I was intrigued."

"She seems to be under the impression that I'm ready to get another dog. I sarcastically replied that if I wanted something to walk, I'd call you and take Will out for a little while." He nodded at the newspaper ad on the desk, which Lily picked up. Her whole expression melted on seeing the picture of the puppies.

"Well I'm not going to turn down that offer of a baby-walker," she said, suppressing a laugh so as to not disturb her sleeping son.

"And if I'm not doing unsociable shifts, I'll consider it."

"But you'd be crazy not to at least have a look at the puppies. You're a dog person, it's your defining feature – you can't just not have a dog now! I know it's weird for you to think about having another dog, but you should at least do that, just think about it."

"You think?" Dylan said quietly.

"Yes," Lily said seriously. "Oh come on, they're puppies! It's like a baby but less effort!"

"Please," Dylan said, only half sarcastically. "At least this little one, lovely as he is, only excretes into a nappy. Puppies go everywhere until they're trained."

"You should ask Ethan what happened the first time he tried to change a nappy, then tell me that babies don't go everywhere."

"Point taken."

"If you're feeling anxious about it, I'll go with you," Lily offered, hoping that this might give him the confidence to do it. It wouldn't be right to never see Dylan with a dog again. She'd meant what she'd said. He was a dog person, through and through, and it suited him to have a furry friend.

"You've got better things to do," Dylan objected.

"You've got better things to do than sit in your own office, letting my baby sleep on you," Lily pointed out. "It's what friends do." This was enough to convince him – a reminder that he'd probably never have a better pair of friends than Lily and Zoe.

"Okay. And I think he's rather grown on me, so I don't mind this at all," he said, looking down at Will, who was still stubbornly asleep, despite his father's earlier instructions to stay awake.

Six weeks later, Rita and Dylan were walking together in the park, with a tiny Border Collie puppy on a red lead. Rita was happy that Dylan had, after much umming and arring, decided that it would be a good idea to call the Dogs' Home about the puppies. He'd been lucky, all but one had be re-homed already. Alice had fitted into life on the boat like she'd been born to live life on the water, and she'd taken to Rita almost straight away, which was an added bonus since the nurse had been spending increasing amounts of time on the boat.