Thank you everyone for the reviews; they're lovely to read! Please tell me what you think. There's a few more chapters to come, certainly :)

"Sandra Pullman?" the doctor asked, making us both jump.

I nodded slowly, keeping a firm hold of Gerry's hand.

"I'm Dr. Jones; this is my colleague, Dr. Hall."

I smiled whilst Gerry shook their hands, as he still kept mine in his free hand.

"So, I understand you were shot and hit on the head."

I nodded "Ask Gerry, he probably knows more than I can remember."

Gerry explained to the doctors how he had found me, about Mark – about how I'd fainted when the paramedics came in.

"You're a police officer, correct, Mr. Standing?"

"Yeah, yeah I am." Gerry replied in that gorgeous voice of his.

"You'd know more than me, what type of gun do you think shot Miss Pullman?" Dr. Jones asked Gerry.

"I'd say a hand gun, quite small but bloody powerful." He replied. "I mean, there's an investigation that's already going on about the gunman, so..."

"Right, thank you." The doctor answered "Right, Sandra, can I just have a look at your stomach?"

"Do you need to take the bandages off?" I asked, quite stupidly really. Second blonde moment in five minutes. Great. Gerry must think I haven't got a brain.

"Yes, is that alright?"

I nodded, looking at Gerry. He squeezed my hand for reassurance as the doctors began undressing the wound.

For the next few minutes, Gerry just held my hand and stroked my cheek gently until the bandages were all off.

"Right, no signs of infection in the wound – we took the bullet out yesterday and stitched your stomach – we'll need to take the stitches out in one week from now."

"How big is the scar going to be?" I asked. God, I've been shot in the stomach by a madman and all I'm worried about is the scar.

"It'll be about an inch, inch and a half, I'd say. It'll practically be gone by the time you're twenty-one, I'd expect, young skin heals faster."

"What about my head?"

"He hit you quite hard, but I doubt you'll be scarred for very long at all." The doctor answered

"When can I go home?"

"You live in a first floor flat – that could be a problem. We can't have you walking up and down stairs all the time. Is there anyone that could stay with you – a friend, boyfriend, your parents..?"

"No, my father's dead, my mother's in Australia with her friends and all my friends have gone on a gap year." I replied, seeing Gerry raise his eyebrows out of the corner of my eye.

"Sandra, do you want to stay with me for a bit, I've got a spare room and my flat's on the ground floor." Gerry whispered in my ear.

Staying with Gerry? Yes please. He doesn't even need the spare room, I'll sleep in with him. No, shut up, Sandra, he must have a girlfriend.

I nodded, trying not to grin from ear to ear.

"Sandra can stay with me." Gerry told the doctors.

"Right, well then, I'd expect you to be out of hospital in a couple of weeks. We'll see you tomorrow."


"I'm sorry about your dad." Gerry said to me just after the doctors closed the door

"He died when I was fourteen. He was a policeman too." I told him

"God, that must've been hard. Would I have known him?" Gerry replied, somewhat sympathetically

"Heart attack – I loved him so much." I stopped myself crying, just. Sandra, stop behaving like a lovesick teenager. Pull yourself together! "Gordon Arthur Pullman – you might have known him."

Gerry thought for a moment, before answering; "I think I remember a Gordon Arthur Pullman... not sure though."

I smiled, then decided to ask him what I wanted to know.

"Won't your girlfriend mind me staying?" I asked, preparing myself for the reply.

"Split up last week. She never lived with me anyway."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Yesss!

"No you're not." Gerry replied, smirking "I'm a police officer, I know when people are lying."

"Maybe I'm not. Are you?" I pouted slightly

"No, I'm bloody well not. She was a right ear-basher."

I snorted. Gerry really did have a way with words – even if his ex wouldn't approve.

"Look, you'll be fed up with me after a week – every bloke I've ever had has been."

"You really 'aven't had the best boyfriends, 'ave you? One shoots you in the stomach and tries to kill you, the rest are fed up with you after a week."

"Suppose I haven't. According to psychiatrists, I look for a father figure." I smiled "Only thing is, my father was never anything like any of the guys I've been out with."

"Bloody psychiatrists." Gerry muttered "I once knew one of them, barkin' she was, completely mental. Told me I should start drinkin' camomile tea instead of beer."

I laughed, trying not to hurt my stomach.

"Do you want me to phone your mum?" he asked

"She's in Australia, it'll cost a bloody fortune!"

"Nah, it won't. I'll call 'er from work." He winked

"Dad always did that. He got the photographic lab to do his holiday snaps as well."

Gerry seemed to blush slightly, before muttering something along the lines of "Guilty."