A/N: This is just a short one-shot about the conversation Serena and Hanssen had in the car. I'm not entirely sure where the idea came from, but oh well :)

Sarah x

Hanssen was driving back to the hospital from Tara Valentine's funeral, Serena sitting silent in the passenger seat. It was unusual for her to be this quiet. Not that he was complaining. He was glad for the peace.

"I've been thinking lately," he broke the silence.

"Hmm. Did it hurt?" she retorted. He sighed. Step one: silence. Step two: caustic sarcasm. Step three: he dreaded to think.

"I was thinking," he continued, pointedly ignoring her remark. "I would like a chance to return to the ward on a regular basis."

"What's brought this on?" she asked, still staring out the window as he drove.

"I haven't been able to do it for years, with the responsibilities that come with my job. But now there is someone to share the load, so to speak, I don't see why we both can't do more on the wards and still manage the workload."

Serena wasn't saying anything. It seemed that she had returned to step one. There was something not right. He had not expected Tara's funeral to silence the woman from hell. The problem was that he had no idea how to approach her. She was more than liable to bite his head off if he implied she had been emotionally affected by Tara's fate.

"Are you alright?" he asked her cautiously, curiosity getting the better of him. That, and he found he actually did care if she was alright.

"Fine," she replied, not lifting her gaze from the passenger side window. Now he definitely knew something was eating at her. Her tone was flat now – no sarcasm, no smile, no frown, no hurt. Nothing. And it bothered him endlessly for some reason. There was always some degree of feeling in Serena's voice – she, unlike him, was unable to completely block it out of her words. Until now.

"Are you sure?" he persisted against his better judgement.

"You hate me, Henrik," she reminded him harshly, but still with a lack of emotion. "Why are you so interested?"

"I don't hate you," he argued. He was surprised when he realised that it wasn't the white lie he intended it to be. He actually did not hate her. He was frequently angered by her and, more often than not, wanted to gag and bind her just to shut her up, especially if he knew she was speaking the truth. But he didn't hate her.

She remained silent, clearly off in her own little world. "Ms. Campbell?" he asked, growing more concerned with every passing moment of silence.

"It's silly," she answered. "Believe me. You don't want to hear it."

"Try me."

She was still watching the world pass by as she finally began to spit it out. "Can you imagine knowing your child, your only daughter, was probably going to die before you did?"

"Ah. This is a mother thing, is it?" he asked.

"What happened to Tara...it makes me wonder how I would deal with it had it been my daughter," she explained.

Hanssen gave a soft sigh, knowing he wasn't the best person to talk to about this. But he had made her talk, and now he had to deal with it. "Events like these tend to put everything back into perspective," he told her.

She fell silent again. He looked around briefly, careful not to let her see him. She did look troubled. This was getting to her; he could tell. It was getting to her that her daughter could just have easily been in Tara's position, and she would now be the grieving mother. But she seemed to forget that her daughter – as far as he knew – was perfectly healthy, and that she wasn't a grieving mother. Of course, there was always luck involved; for all he knew, the girl could step out of the house and get hit by a bus tomorrow. However, he didn't think it wise to point that out to Serena. Somehow he didn't think it would improve matters.

"Your daughter is not Tara," he reminded her. "The important thing is that she's alive and presumably driving you up the wall. Perhaps you may remember more often that you're lucky to have her, but I don't think you should worry about losing her. What happened to Tara isn't very likely to happen to your child."

She leaned her chin on the base of her hand, her elbow on the car door. "I know that. All this has just shown me that the chance of losing her is always there, every day."

"You need to put that notion aside, or it's only going to keep upsetting you."

"I'm not upset," she immediately contradicted him.

Hanssen gave a slight smirk. "You are." She didn't deny it this time.

He left her sitting there as she avoided looking at him. He didn't really know how to handle her. She was undeniably a formidable woman.

He looked at her again and let out another gentle sigh. She didn't want told everything was alright. He knew she knew that already. But he couldn't help but think she just needed to know someone was willing to listen to her worries, founded or otherwise.

He reached out and took her hand in his and squeezed lightly. The action finally tore her gaze from outside as she looked down at their joined hands. He made sure he kept his full attention to the road as they approached the hospital; she didn't break their grip apart. If anything, she held onto his hand really quite tightly. Tighter than he had expected. He had been right. She wanted someone to just be next to her as Tara's death put her own daughter's life into perspective. He parked the car and cut the engine.

"I was wrong about you," she admitted. "You do have a heart. And it isn't made of stone, either," she added.

"People seem to have a coloured judgement about me, I'm afraid," he allowed her a small smile. She returned it, much to his relief; the last thing he needed today was Serena being difficult. And he didn't like to see her troubled either.

He had finally come to trust her enough to share some of the running of the hospital with her, and she had finally come to trust him enough to tell him what bothered her. Maybe they were getting somewhere after months of, intentionally or otherwise, annoying each other.

"Thank you," she smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"For what?" he asked curiously, not understanding what he had done to deserve a "thank you" and a kiss on the cheek. They were not, after all, the closest of friends. Although, despite their disagreements, he was finding he was actually quite understanding of the way she was thinking right now. He could see her attempting to make an effort at letting him understand her.

"For reminding me what's important."

"You're welcome."

She gave him a quick smile before he got out of the car, going around to open her door for her and let her out. She was still overthinking things; she was wearing an odd contemplative look he had only ever seen her use a couple of times before. He put a hand on her back as she stepped out and he shut the door.

As they entered the hospital, she returned to business as usual. "I think if you want to do more work on the ward then you should," she said. "We can sort the ins and outs of it later."

"Good," he said, stepping into the empty lift with her.

He openly smiled when she looked up to him and warned him, "If you tell anyone about our conversation in the car, I will kill you."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he replied, realising his hand was still on her back. He put his arm around her shoulders and briefly pulled her into his side as a comfort; he knew her worries were still in the back of her mind.

They looked at each other and their faces both broke into smiles at his peculiar action. The doors opened and he, like her, returned to his deadpan expression. "After you, Ms. Campbell."

Hope this is OK!
Please feel free to review and tell me your thoughts!
Sarah x