That got everyone's attention; the SO19 officers, Vicki, the hospital staff. The officers moved in closer. David kept his private life to himself, but they all knew he had a girl. They didn't know the extent of it though.

"Your highness, I...uh…let me get a doctor." The nurse rang someone and Eleanor thanked her, moving back to Vicki. Soon, a tall, dark haired officer approached them and introduced himself as David's commander, Paul.

"David was shot." He told them, bluntly. Vicki's hand flew to her mouth, gasping. Eleanor's eyes narrowed, lips in a tight line. "I'm not sure the extent; he was talking as the ambulance brought him in and the blokes are telling me it was to an extremity."

"He wears a bulletproof vest." Eleanor said, not even knowing what she was saying. Her mind was so foggy; she couldn't understand what this man she had just met was saying. Was David okay? Where was he? What was taking so long? The other officers were milling about, talking and watching the telly that hung on the wall.

She and Vicki talked with Paul a bit longer. An officer came back with the cokes. They sat, they stood, they paced, restless. They watched television with the officers. Finally, the doors swung open and all eyes swiveled that way. It wasn't the promised doctor.

David was standing frozen, just outside the doorway leading into the waiting area. There was a huge group. His co-workers in their grey and black, black suited men he instantly recognized as a security detail, Vicki, standing by the chairs, her arms wrapped around herself, her face worried. Right in the center was Eleanor, sparkling like the stars and the sun put together in her diamonds and jewels, gown and makeup. Her pine tree eyes were on him, full of worry. He made a step toward her and it spurned her into action. She launched at him despite her dress and heels.

He inhaled sharply, holding back a curse as she collided with him, her arms around his body. His free hand went to her waist and he let himself relax into her, not caring about all the eyes on them. She pulled back, touching him all over, looking and poking.

"They wouldn't tell us anything." She was saying as she patted at him, her voice shrill. "You're okay, right? You seem okay. You're here. You're alive."

"The bullet went right through." He replied, raising his left arm as best he could. It was in a sling, wrapped tight. "I'm okay." He put his forehead on hers and continued. "Let me talk to my commander and Vic and we'll go." She nodded and let him go. David watched as she approached Vicki. They spoke and then embraced, both close to tears. When they separated, Eleanor nodded and smiled and said goodbye. She took some time to shake hands and thank the staff that was waiting around, hoping to meet her, and then let Claude lead her out, disappearing from David's view in a cloud of black suits and sparkles.

He spoke with his commander, promising to be in touch and relay his statement in the morning. They shook hands and his mates slapped him on the back, all filing out. Vicki was the only one left.

"That was...crazy." She said, sitting in the hard plastic chair. David ran a hand through his hair, sitting next to her.

"Els brings the circus with her, even when she doesn't intend to."

"She...she seems great. She invited me for tea." Vicki said. "Said she thought we'd get on aces."

"That's her. She'll force you to be her friend, so you'd better just give in." He smiled and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. "Thanks for coming."

"I'm glad you're ok, Dave." Vicki said, squeezing his hand back. They stood and walked out together, him asking her to give the kids a kiss for him.

It wasn't hard to spot the car, Claude standing by the closed door. The big man opened it for him and David slid in. He leaned his head back against the leather seat, closing his eyes. Eleanor put her mobile down and watched him.

"I've never been shot before." He said. "Hurts more than I thought."

She leaned into him, her hand on his thigh, warm through the grey fabric of his uniform. He put his arm over her shoulder and they were quiet during the drive home. His mind was still running on adrenaline, but his body was completely exhausted.

The house was quiet when the got there, everyone still at the dinner. They headed upstairs and she disappeared into the closet while he went to the loo. His uniform shirt was trashed, the emergency services had ripped the sleeve to get at his arm, and his undershirt was stained with blood. He could unbuckle his belt with one hand, but knew he couldn't get his shirt off.

He stood in front of the mirror, hand on the counter, head down, trying to relax. Then she was back, sliding her arms around him from behind, her head pressed against his back. He couldn't see her in the mirror; his body blocking her, but her arms tight around his waist were helping him settle.

"You left the state dinner?" He asked. He felt her nod. "You didn't have to."

"Yes I did. Kate made my excuses." She replied. "Can I help you?"

She came around to his side, looking at him, eyes wide. She had changed into a pair of pajama pants and a tank, and all the jewels were gone. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, free of its complicated style. David nodded at her and she went to wash her face as he sat on the toilet, pulling at his boot laces. He got them off, undid his belt, finished with his trousers and then she helped with his uniform shirt.

She was quiet, staring at all the blood as she got the heavy grey fabric off. It had seeped into his bulletproof vest and undershirt. He knew it was on his skin too, dried and flaking.

"Just rip the undershirt; it's rubbish now." He said as she pulled gently at the Velcro on the vest. He ducked so she could get it over his head.

"Do you want to take a shower?" She asked, cutting the undershirt with a tiny pair of manicure scissors that she had found and then ripping it the rest of the way. he smiled but she didn't.

"I'll try, but I can't get it wet."

Eleanor helped him take off the sling and left him with one more tight hug.

David turned on the tap, and after a minute, got in. The water beat down on his back, relaxing the tense muscles. He kept his left arm up and out of the spray even though it was killing him to have it lifted so high. He couldn't get the shampoo open with one hand, so he didn't bother.

She was out on the balcony when he came through, so he just got in bed, knowing she would come back when she was ready. He didn't put the sling back on, just laid with his arm on his chest. They had given him some pain medication, and it seemed to be helping. He exhaled a long breath, finally settling, finally not hearing shouts and yelling. Finally not hearing the sound of gunshots.

He laid for a while in the dark, waiting for her. Eleanor finally came back in, went to the lavatory and then came back out to the bed, sliding in next to him. She didn't come close.

"Are you really okay?" She asked quietly, turning to face him, but not touching him.

"I'm fine, love." David replied. "It was so fast, I wasn't even scared. Except for afterward when I thought my arm was blown off."

The team had been sent to a domestic violence call. They poured out of the van in front of the apartment building and went up to the flat in an orderly row. The dispatcher had said the husband had a firearm and was refusing to let his wife leave the flat. David was the least senior on the team, so he was at the end of the line of four officers. Two took the lead, calling out their presence and demanding the suspect open the door. Three of them hugged the wall while the door was kicked in and then they fanned out into the flat. The suspect had a gun to his wife's head and as soon as he saw the officers, he started firing at them before anyone knew what was happening.

David saw the gun pointed right at him and dove for cover, getting hit in the left upper arm rather than the head or chest. He had been closest to the door and was sort of thrown back out into the hall by the force. It felt as though his arm was on fire; pain shooting up his shoulder. He immediately grabbed at the wound with his other hand, the warm, sticky blood squishing through his fingers.

"I probably should have taken it in the vest, but with my luck it would've been a head shot." He said, finishing his quick retelling.

His teammates had all hit the ground as well, scrambling behind furniture or back out into the hall. David was sitting up in the hall, not able to see the suspect or the other two officers. The officer in the hall with him came to check on him, but David waved him off, telling him to help the others. Soon, there was yelling and he heard the senior officer trying to negotiate. More yelling, some cursing, and it was over. They told him in the ambulance that while the senior officer was negotiating, a second officer had crawled behind the couch, snuck up on the suspect, and clocked him over the head with his firearm, subduing him.

David had walked down the stairs and into the ambulance on his own accord, pissed that he had been so careless. He had only been at this two and a half months.

"The doctor said it was a clean wound and there shouldn't be any long term issues." He added, flexing his fingers. Eleanor didn't speak, just looked at him. He couldn't tell what was coming. She seemed upset, but not angry. She was definitely uncharacteristically quiet; usually it was a mile a minute, talking about her day, asking him about his, popping up with a silly tale about something she saw or heard.

"Ellie, I'm fine. Really." He tried, moving a little closer so he could put his hand on her hip.

"I know." Was all she said. She finally pulled in closer, careful of his arm, and exhaled. "Can we just...I'm tired and I'm sure you are too."

David nodded, knowing better than to push, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. At least she was there, tight next to him, her warm body a salve.