She sat outside Guy's office, watching the clock on the wall opposite. The second hand seemed to be moving at half speed, her impatience doubling with every tick. Normally, she wouldn't have waited, but he was talking to some hotshot American, and she knew better than to barge in and start throwing accusations around, especially when they were about Guy's leading light.

Five minutes. Ten Minutes. Sighing and rolling her eyes at Guy's lack of urgency, she began thinking about what she was actually going to say. It was all very well knowing what had happened, but to actually tell Guy coherently without sounding like she was going mad, that would be difficult. Start at the beginning, she thought, the beginning.

3 days earlier

"Chase up CT, Rita, I want to know what's going on in his chest," Zoe called after her colleague, who stuck her thumbs up by way of a response. She checked her watch and, realising that she was due a break, swerved into the staff room to pick up her cigarettes and lighter from her locker. On her way out, she grabbed the back of Max's shirt who was ambling aimlessly into reception, and pulled him outside with her.

Although he grumbled initially, as soon as he saw who it was he looked around quickly to check no one was watching and planted a deep kiss on her lips. She returned with equal passion, but then, remembering where she was, pulled herself away reluctantly. She grinned up at him and handed him a cigarette.

"We've got to start being a bit more careful about where we do this, Max,"

"Says you! You just dragged me out mid-shift in front of the entire ED!" he let her light his cigarette and took a deep drag.

"This is true. But they probably think that I'm just telling you off," she stuck her tongue out between her teeth cheekily.

"Moi? Why would I be in trouble?"
She looked him up and down, pretending to look for faults, "well firstly, your hair is too long." Seeing his incredulous expression, she defended herself, "it could be seen to- endanger patient care! And also, your timekeeping has been less than satisfactory recently. To this very shift, in fact, you were twelve minutes late."

"You noticed?" He looked flattered that she had remembered his arrival, "but I think you're the one who deserves a telling off, Dr Hanna."

Rolling her eyes, knowing where he was going with this, she played along, reaching out and playing with his collar, "oh? Why would that be?"

"Firstly. Those heels could also be seen to- what was it?- "endanger patient care". And that dress." He looked at her figure, accented by the folds of the bodycon dress she wore today, and grinned. "It should probably be illegal."

She sighed and pulled on his shirt collar, angling themselves slightly so that they were more out of the way of the view of the car approaching the ED entrance. "Oh, Max. Couldn't you think of anything more imaginative?"

Leaning in, he whispered, "I'll leave the imagination for later."
She groaned at the obvious cheesiness, but gave in, letting him wrap his arms around her, push her up against the wall, his lips almost fighting hers with intense passion. She threw her cigarette away and ran her hands up into his hair, then back down his back, pulling him closer to her forcefully.

"Dr Hanna?"

They broke apart, Max leaning round the corner to see who it was.

"It's that crazy woman again." Zoe groaned and leant her head on Max's shoulder in faux despair. He smirked and pushed her away, "neglecting your patients, Dr Hanna?"

"It's not the patients I mind, it's the relatives I can't stick." She straightened herself and walked round the corner, greeting the woman who had called her with her biggest, fakest smile. "Mrs Lantham, I've told you, his condition is treatable…"

…

She checked her watch. 18:00. Finally. The shift seemed to have lasted years, it had taken nearly forty minutes to convince Mrs Lantham that Mr Lantham's rash was simply a flare-up of excema and not some rare and fatal flesh-eating disease, and she was pretty sure that she hadn't really believed her anyway. In desperate need of a cigarette, she headed for the ED doors, hoping to find Max outside ready to take her home. On her way out, she almost collided with Jeff, who was bringing a trolley through shouting for help. She looked behind her: Cal and Ethan had left, Connie was in a meeting with Lily about some experimental treatment, and Ash hadn't turned up for his shift yet. Rolling her eyes, she followed Jeff, throwing her bag at Noel and picking up her stethoscope from the desk.

"…Larch Road at approximately 40mph. Was KO'd at the scene, not yet regained consciousness, suspected fractured right tib and fib, lost approximately 2 pints..."

But Zoe didn't hear anything else because she had caught sight of the face of the body on the trolley. Covered in blood and small scratches, she could still make out his features, they'd been the ones she had wanted to see. But not like this. Max's body was broken and battered, blood stains seeping through his clothes in various places, his jeans cut open on his right leg, presumably to allow the paramedics access to the vicious-looking injury to his knee. She had barely registered him before he was swept away, followed by Connie who had left her office at the commotion.

Shock claimed every limb of her body. She wanted to run. She wanted to run into the ED and help him, save him. She wanted to run out the ED and find the driver that had done this to him and kill him. But she couldn't move. Connie had disappeared into resus after the trolley, followed by Lily and Tess. It was as if the whole room was swirling round her, everyone seemed to be much closer to her than they actually were. Not him. Not Max.

She gasped and the feeling in her limbs returned. Bursting through the doors of resus, she went straight to him. Ignoring the mess of doctors and nurses and paramedics and shouted commands, she bent down to his head under the pretext of checking his pupils, and whispered,

"Max, we've got you. We've got you. You're going to be just fine, I promise you. Trust me."

…

"He's stable, but still critical. Our major concern is his right leg. There is some major fracturing there that may mean that we have to amputate, but with monitoring and surgery, there is a chance of recovery."

Robyn's face crumpled. "You mean, he's not going to die?"

Zoe grimaced, "not if I can help it." She patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and walked to her office. The sound of Robyn's sobs echoed down the corridor, as if they were chasing Zoe. He was going to be OK. He was going to be OK. She told herself. Running her hands through her hair, tears threatening to burst, she let out a huge sigh. She had left him in capable hands. Connie, although a complete nightmare to work with, was an excellent doctor. Heading straight for the ED doors, stopping only to pick up her bag and pull the cigarette packet from it, she left.

Drawing heavily, she leant back against the wall, relief flooding her. His face: so empty, so- dead. She thought he was going to die. She thought she had lost him. Almost laughing with surprise at her emotions, she took another drag of her cigarette. She had never expected to feel this way. An easy fling, she had thought. He was young, bought her flowers, knew his way around, and made her feel pretty good. But it turned out that she couldn't get enough. He was beginning to be the first thing she thought about in the morning, and the last thing she thought about at night. Which wasn't actually difficult, since he was normally lying next to her first thing in the morning and last thing at night.

The fear that had paralysed her when she had seen him on that trolley. Fuck. This was more than just a fling.

"Zoe?" Suddenly realising that Guy had finally finished his meeting and was now trying to get her attention, she blinked and looked up.

"Guy, sorry, was in my own little world."

"I bet, with all the- stress and worry of- everything." He gestured her into his office and into the chair opposite his desk.

"Yes, well it's about- everything that I want to speak." She met his gaze almost reluctantly. "There are things that you should know."

Guy sat up straight, "is this a confession?"

"No, it's not a confession. It wasn't my fault." Seeing Guy's doubtful look, she persevered, "I know that it sounds confused and a bit ridiculous, but it really wasn't, Guy."

"So… What happened?" Guy's voice was accusatory, she could tell that he didn't really believe her. She took a deep breath and prepared herself. She had to get this right. Everything was at stake.

Still a bit unsure about this story, it may get a bit confusing, I've sort of messed around with the chronology a bit to make it more interesting... but hope you like it :) reviews would be much appreciated xx