Disclaimer: I did own this show once. Then Michael Critchon abducted my cat and threatened to kill it if I didn't hand the idea over. Bastard. Hence no longer mine. Things would have turned out very differently if I still owned it.

A/N: *Keanu Reeves voice* Woah! Cheers for the reviews peeps! Sorry about holding back this next chapter. It was a case of writers worry. Like writers block only a lot more common! But I am over it now and the story continues. For all my loyal readers and reviewers I give you-the next chapter.

(There's a couple of swear words in this one-just a warning)

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'You want me to what?'

Robert was standing by the nurse's desk, staring in utter disbelief at the negotiator, Yvonne Brown.

'Martin-'

'The psycho?'

'The subject, yes, has requested that you-'

'Talk with him, right, I got that. What I'm stuck on here is the fact you agreed to this.'

Yvonne rubbed her brow and flexed her fingers. Robert got the feeling that, although she was a trained negotiator, she was using all her self-restraint to stop her from smacking him. He didn't mind, he was used to people doing that.

Detective Franks joined them and exchanged a look of raised eyebrows with Yvonne.

'Going to be a long one is it Brown?' he asked.

''Fraid so. I should have known, it's a full moon out, the nuts all rise to the surface. I was just trying to explain our predicament to Dr Romano here. He's having a little trouble with it.'

Detective Franks turned to Robert and gave him a tight, tired smile.

'Trouble?' he asked.

Robert leaned on the desk and sighed.

'There is no trouble,' he said, shooting a venomous look at Yvonne, 'I'm just wondering if its police policy to ask an un-trained individual, especially one with an entire hospital to run in a crisis, to negotiate with a man a couple of sugar lumps short of a bowl!?'

Detective Franks gave a small chuckle, then looked Robert square in the eye.

'At this point, yes,' said Detective Franks, 'get on the phone. I'm going to deal with the press.'

He sounded cheerful as he quickly walked away.

'Rock and hard place? I'm taking the rock,' he muttered.

Robert watched him leave and felt that his position of defence was slowly crumbling.

He would have liked nothing better than to get on the phone and tell that bastard exactly what he was. He also knew that would be the least helpful thing he could do. He would have to be calm, considerate, nice even. He felt sick just thinking about it.

'Dr Romano, this man is disturbed-' Yvonne began.

'Y'think?' he interjected.

'-and he has a gun and he has hostages including a small girl and one of your doctors. He has all the cards Dr Romano and he knows how to play them. He's not dumb and he's certainly not entirely deranged-'

'Well we'll agree to disagree on that one.'

'-so I agreed to his request. I will be listening the whole time and will help you with your responses. This is more common than people think, many subjects prefer to talk to someone they know.'

'I guess his mother is out of the question?'

'She's dead,' said Yvonne bluntly, 'Dr Romano, I am not going to argue with you. I understand you are worried, frightened even-'

Robert snorted and snatched the phone off her.

'I am a lot of things, Miss Brown, frightened is not one of them.'

That was a lie. He was terrified. One wrong word and it could spell the end for all of them, including Elizabeth. He wasn't exactly diplomacies poster boy. What were they thinking?

'Okay Dr Romano, just talk normally, listen mostly, these guys usually like the sound of their own voices and most importantly, listen to me!'

Yvonne fixed him with a steely glare worthy of himself, then nodded to an officer.

'Lets ring him.'

Robert sat down on a waiting chair and listened to the phone ring. Once, twice, then on the third try,

'Hello?'

The voice was well educated, but harsh and invested with a large hint of glee. His only image of the man was a gun barrel aimed at him from a doorway. It seemed appropriate.

'Martin, we've got who you asked for. I'm going to put him on now.'

Yvonne flicked a switch and nodded to Robert. He swallowed and fixed his eyes on a pile of charts abandoned on the desk.

'Hello?'

'Is that Dr Romano?'

'Yeah, it is.'

'Really?'

'Really. Believe me I'm wishing it wasn't.'

He glanced at Yvonne for a sign he was doing what he should. She gave him a small nod and mouthed 'keep going'

'Well hi there doc. My names Martin.'

'I know.'

'You do? What else do you know about me?'

'Not much. You're a man with some...issues. You also have four hostages including a sick girl and a member of my staff. What do you know about me?'

This question seemed to catch Martin of guard and he paused. Yvonne flicked Robert a warning look, and he felt his stomach lurch. Keep it neutral, just listen, he reminded himself.

'Not much either. You're in charge around here. And your Dr Corday feels maybe you're not the best man for this little conversation.'

'She's right,' replied Robert honestly.

His Dr Corday. So she was alive anyway. He'd never doubted that had he?

'Hear that honey? He thinks you're right. She's smiling. Well I think she is anyway. You must be pretty concerned about her? I can understand why, she's beautiful.'

'I'm concerned about all of them,' said Robert.

His throat was beginning to feel very dry even though he had not said much. A small well of panic was starting to build deep down in him. That didn't happen often.

He remembered it happening when Lucy had been stabbed and they had struggled in vain to help.

It had happened when that gunman-that other gunman-had been rampaging around because he was mad at Greene.

And of course it had happened when he had that personal encounter with a rotor blade. On cue, his arm twinged.

'Get confirmation of their status,' whispered Yvonne.

'Martin, I know we've only just got acquainted and everything but I would like you to do me a little favour,' said Robert, matter-of-factly.

'You mean the police do,' said Martin.

They were right, this guy was too sane.

'Okay. Honestly yes. But you've got to cut me a bit of slack here, I'm a novice. I've negotiated workers contracts before but they didn't normally have firearms. Well, not always.'

Martin gave a sharp laugh.

'That's good doc. You're not as scared as the others. You hate me and you're not afraid to say it.'

Robert had a thousand biting remarks on his tongue, the top of which was whole-hearted agreement and he had to hold himself back from using them. Yvonne was staring fixedly at him.

'Keep calm,' she said.

'Martin. I...they...we, that is me and the police, need to know that all the hostages are okay?'

'I had a feeling they might. They're fine. Everyone is fine. Okay?'

Yvonne shook her head. It wasn't enough, but Robert had to be careful. He felt like a tightrope walker with serious vertigo. Why am I doing this? he thought, I am not the man to be doing this!

'I believe Martin,' he said, 'you have no reason to lie. But it's not enough for them. And they have firearms too. Very near me in fact. If you let me talk to one of them-'

'I said they're okay!' snarled Martin, 'although they may not remain so.'

Robert was fighting every urge to tell this prick to get over it, but he closed his eyes and concentrated.

'Martin,' he said, 'just let me talk to one of them. Just for a minute and then we can get on. Come on, if they are all fine you have nothing to fear and there is no way they can pass any information onto me, you'll be right there.'

Martin paused. Robert was sure he could hear him cocking the gun, but the next minute Martin said,

'Okay. One person. Someone reliable.'

There was a grunt, some muffled conversation and the creak of plastic as the phone was handed over.

'Robert?'

It was Elizabeth. His legs would have buckled if he had not been sitting down. As it was he grasped the desk and let out a gasp. Who would have thought one single word could have made his entire world leap? Every time she spoke his name it was like magic but now, here at this time it was relief and happiness in one crashing wave.

'Oh...oh God Lizzie, you have no idea how pleased I am to hear you.'

'Ditto,' she said, letting out a small laugh.

She sounds odd, he thought, distant, weak.

'Robert...the...you want to hear how everyone is?' she said in a professional manner, 'Sarah is fine, shock that's all. Mrs Graham is also unhurt although I'm worried about her mental state. Jane...I..I've done everything I can but she can't manage for much longer. She needs that transplant.'

'Right,' he said, 'that's, well, that's better than I expected. And you?'

A pause. A pause that lasted forever, time stretched into a line of white.

'Elizabeth?' he managed.

'Robert...I've been shot.'