"Make yourself at home." Zoe kicked off her shoes and padded barefoot across the floor of her apartment. Nick followed her cautiously, his dark eyes scanning the once familiar room. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "I'll get us a take away." Nick nodded absently, his eyes sweeping every inch of the place with a disturbing thoroughness. Zoe twigged at once what he was doing, she had seen it before, in injured soldiers send home from active duty. For moment she hesitated; should she let him continue or break the cycle with a joke?

She crossed to the bookcase and ran a finger along a shelf.

"Here's some." She offered her dusty fingertip to him, praying that he wouldn't dive for cover or worse, flee from her home.

"What?" He questioned, the most endearing look of bewilderment on his face.

"Dust." She kept her distance from him, not knowing what reaction to expect. "That is what you were looking for, wasn't it?" She forced a grin. "My housekeeping hasn't improved."

"I er, n... erm ...bu ..." Nick stumbled over his words, taking Zoe's mind back to the days before his operation.

"It's ok Nick." She wiped the dust from her finger onto her dress and outstretched her hand. "You're safe here."

"I know." He whispered, placing his hand in hers and making no objection as she pulled him close, slid her other hand around his ribs and hugged him.

"So, Chinese, Indian, Italian?" Zoe asked breaking the silence but not the embrace. She rubbed her hands up and down his back, as she skimmed his lower back Nick flinched violently with pain. Her hands froze, she slowly looked up at him, questioningly, afraid of what his answer might be.

"It's ok." He breathed. "Anton's stitches are very neat. The dressing may need changing, I should have brought some from the hospital."

"Nick." The way Zoe breathed his name caught in the tangle of emotions which threatened to spill. He wasn't sure he wanted to be here, but he didn't want to go to his home, or a hotel. All he wanted was to be with her.

"Do you have any baked beans?" He changed the subject rapidly. "On toast, and a glass of milk?"

"A glass of milk I can do." Zoe crossed to the fridge, poured some milk into a glass, Nick followed her to the kitchen area and sat down at the table. Zoe handed him the glass and he took a large gulp of the cold liquid. "I can go and get some beans and bread." Zoe offered, respecting his reluctance to talk about recent events.

"Can I come with you?" Nick asked softly.

"Sure."