With Tony out of commission for at least a month, Saffron found that she had more than enough time to focus on some of the things she'd let slide while she'd been wrapped up in the cleanup project.

Her flat needed a bit of cleaning. There were groceries to buy. She'd thought to do some minor sewing in order to mend a few slightly-worn casual clothes.

But she was letting most of it go (groceries excepted). Instead, she'd been nursing Tony back to health. And enjoying it. For the most part.

"Saff, I'm fine, really," Tony told her as she took his temperature for what had to be the fifth time on this particular Saturday.

"A fever will put you back in hospital," she said, frowning at what she saw on the thermometer.

"Do I have a fever?" he asked, sighing.

"No," Saffron said.

"Then relax, 'ey? You keep all this up an' you'll be the one carted off to A&E," Tony remarked.

Saff looked a bit hurt, hearing that from him.

"I'm just trying to help," she huffed, mildly upset.

"Aw, c'mon, girl, don't get your knickers all in a twist now," Tony told her, a rakish smirk playing at his lips.

This got Saffy's dander up. Sick or not, Tony was being an ass just then, she thought.

"Will you stop calling me 'girl'? I am a woman!" she snipped. "And the state of my knickers is none of your business!"

"Well," Tony said, raising an eyebrow, "if they do get in a twist, I'm the man to help you get 'em all straightened out again."

At that, Saffron clenched her jaw and stalked out of the room.

Tony started to laugh, delighted at seeing her hackles raised, but his side was still tender from surgery. So instead he lay back on his pillows, closed his eyes and let himself imagine exactly what kind of knickers Saffron would wear, were she so inclined.

Out in Tony's kitchen, Saff searched for tea. He had none. How was this possible? You kept tea in the house or your flat, period. If not for you, then for company. The man had every bloody blend of coffee on the market but one teabag or tin of tea? No such luck. The thought about asking him if he was half-American dashed through her mind again.

"Tony! I'm going to buy some tea!" Saffron yelled back towards his bedroom. "Want anything from the supermarket?"

"Ale and crisps!" he hollered back. "And pick up a pizza on the way back, 'ey!"

Saffy just shook her head in disgust. No wonder women tended to live longer than men, she thought.

Without comment on Tony's shopping list, she headed out. He'd be okay for a half hour.

"Oy! Don't forget that ale!" Tony yelled from the bedroom. "Saff? SAFF!"

Gingerly, he got up and padded to the kitchen. She was gone.

And he missed her already.

Strolling the supermarket aisles, Saff let her mind wander back a decade when she and Jack went shopping on weekends.

"How can you eat that?" Saffron would ask, grimacing at the sight of some dreadful frozen dinner.

"Easy," Jack told her. "Pop it in the microwave, zap it for seven minutes and grab a fork and knife. That's generally how it's done. Is it different back in London?"

Then they'd do battle over produce.

"Have you ever even tried Swiss chard? It's delicious in salad and it's good for you."

"Thanks, Mom. But I'll pass."

And the matter of cooking always spurred a heated conversation between them.

"Jack, you need to learn how to cook. I may not always be around to do it for you."

"I can cook."

"Microwaving isn't cooking."

"I can microwave."

Coming back to herself, Saffy sighed, shaking her head at the lengthy aisle of crisps before her. She loved them, too. Who didn't enjoy a few crisps now and then? But Tony needed to get well before indulging in them. So she left them behind.

She didn't want to buy any ale for him, either, but…

If it came down to a choice between crisps or ale, well… he'd been so sick. Why not? He'd long since finished his post-op antibiotics and, her continuous temperature checks aside, was recovering quickly from surgery.

So she picked up a pack of a good local ale she'd heard Tony order before at the pub. Let him have it this time. She wasn't his mother, after all. Or his wife. Or his girlfriend. They were just friends.

Back at his flat, Tony lay down on his sofa, sighing deeply. He hated being confined to home. It wasn't in his nature to sit around doing nothing. But that was the prescription for the next three weeks, so he had to accept it. Weekends and evenings had been fine; Saffron was around. While she was working each day, however, he was practically bored out of his skull. Even having Bubble and Squeak drop by wasn't the same as when Saffy was with him.

Wouldn't it be fantastic having her around all the time?

On her way back to Tony's flat, Saff again let her thoughts drift back almost a decade earlier. But this time, she remembered a scene that hadn't been something she honestly wanted to recall.

"The south of Sudan? Why? You've already been there! Isn't there somewhere else you could go on assignment?"

"C'mon, Gorgeous, you know that's not how it works."

"I don't want you to get hurt, Jack! Or killed!"

"Saffron. You knew when we met that this is what I do. I never hid that from you."

"But why does it have to be you? Why can't…"

"Because I WANT to go back, dammit! Don't you get it? I love my job!"

"What about us?"

"Aw, come on! That's not fair."

"Isn't it? I'd hate to come between you and your camera! I know how much it means to you!"

"Dammit, Saff, you know I love you! But don't make me feel like I need to choose between you and my work! I'm not doing it! Not for you, not for anyone!"

Saffron forced herself to stop thinking about that awful afternoon. She'd spent almost ten years playing it over and over in her mind, wishing the ending would magically come out different somehow.

It never did.

Jack always left. And he never returned.