Connie stormed through the ward and into her office, slamming the door behind her, listening to the sound echo off all the surfaces in her office. For a moment she stood, hyperventilating quietly, trying to calm down but she could feel herself getting worked up until in the end she found herself standing in the middle of her office, swearing loudly.

'Problem sweetheart?' Michael appeared in the doorway with timing so immaculate she'd swear he had been waiting outside until she finally had to vent her frustration and anger with the world

'Nothing you need to concern yourself with' she snapped, sitting down heavily at her desk and lowering her head to her hands, the vague dull thud of her hangover returning as the antiseptic air of the hospital hit her

'If my wife, let alone my medical director, is swearing to herself, I think I should be concerned' he sat down on the desk and looked her in the eye 'what's going on Connie?'

'Nothing' she snapped again, her head protesting at the noise 'is there a point to this visit or is it just to unsettle me?'

'I need you to look over these proposals for an ITU extension…' he placed them gently in front of her 'Perhaps we could go out for dinner tonight…'

'I don't think so, Michael' she said tiredly 'I'm not sure I'll be able to stay awake much later than six'

'That's what you get for burning the midnight oil and getting drunk' he remarked accusingly 'we'll get a take away and eat it at home then'

'Fine' she muttered, giving him a small smile as he backed slowly from the room leaving her alone to her thoughts. Only when she was sure she was alone did a barely perceptible tear snake slowly down her face. She raised her hand lethargically and batted it away, only for it to be replaced by two more. The more tears she wiped away, the more she cried, heavy sobs wracking her body as she curled up on the soft leather sofa and cried in a way she hadn't cried since he'd left her.

Ric strolled through the double doors of the hospital, amazed at how good it felt to be back. Despite having had the time of his life in Ghana, he realised that there were people in Holby who needed him as a friend and a father as much as his patients in Ghana needed him as a surgeon, so on a whim he called his brother, explaining that he thought his presence was required in England and booked himself on the first flight home. He knew that logically the first thing he should do was call Jess and see how she was and maybe ring Diane and let her know he was back in Holby. He'd felt guilty ever since he'd rejected her advances when she'd travelled halfway across the world to tell him how she felt – it had been the only sensible course of action but he still felt terrible about it. If he was honest about it, he had to admit that she was a large part of his reason for coming back. Jess had Zubin; he was as much of a father to her as he was to their baby, but Diane really needed a friend after everything she had been through, from losing the baby to discovering her job no longer existed thanks to the big ideas of Holby's resident dictator. So when he'd climbed into the cab and found himself asking to be taken to the hospital, almost before he'd even thought, it made no sense but as the familiar antiseptic smell of the hospital hit his lungs, he found himself relaxing and once again feeling at home in his surroundings in a way he never had in Ghana. A few old colleagues passed him, alternating between nodding politely and looking stunned to see him there, as he made his way up to Darwin ward.

As he stepped out on the ward he stifled a groan – Keller ward had been entirely swallowed up and replaced with Super Darwin, Connie's terrifying new empire. He looked around him in astonishment at the nurses he no longer recognised, the new décor and the heart monitors that seemed crammed into every available corner of the ward, and wondered how long he had been away. In the distance he heard the voice of one of the people he had hoped to avoid on his return to Holby. A grandma story – more than his sanity could stand.

'Ric!' another voice called out and he realised he'd been spotted, by Zubin of all people, leaving him with only one possible way of avoiding a messy confrontation or a grandma quote. Connie's office.

'I uh' he gestured towards the door of the office, hearing a distant exclamation of "Eric" as he realised that Lola too had registered his presence. Hastily he knocked on the door and pushed the handle, praying that it wasn't locked, sighing with relief as the door opened and he stepped inside, slamming it behind him.

'What the hell are you doing here?' he heard a slightly muffled voice gasp and he turned round to find Connie sitting on her sofa, tears rolling down her face, a sad smile on her face as they stared at each other, her stunned that he was in Holby, him stunned that she was in tears.

'What's happened?' he went and sat next to her, choosing to ignore her question for the time being, feeling that his was probably more important. It wasn't every day you found Connie in tears in her office, or perhaps it was if you turned up unannounced.

'Its complicated' she told him, leaning against him as he put his arms around her, at a loss to know what else to do

'Do you want to talk about it?' he glanced down at her as she sobbed into his chest and tried not to think about how strange this was. He was all set to storm into her office and berate her for what she'd done to his ward and instead he found himself concerned for her.

'Not really' she told him, finally sitting up now that she was slightly calmer 'it just all got a bit much…'

'Looked a bit more than just a tough day at the hospital' he remarked quietly as she stood up, turning from him and pouring herself a large glass of water from the bottle that stood on the side 'is it Michael?'

'Partly' she admitted slowly 'not entirely though. As I said, its complicated and I don't want to talk about it'

'Fine' he felt himself tense as her barriers flew back up leaving him no hope of getting through to her 'perhaps you'd like to discuss the mess you've made of my ward in the whole two months I've been away'

'Don't like the colour scheme?' she asked tiredly, preparing herself for the inevitable row

'Don't like the lack of general surgery patients and Diane' he retorted immediately, feeling slightly guilty for kicking her when she was so obviously down

'The board are going to review in a months time. Prepare a report for then if you have a problem' she told him firmly 'was there anything else?'

'No, nothing' he stood up slowly, glancing through the Venetian blinds onto the ward, seeing that Zubin and Lola had apparently got bored and disappeared 'I'll leave you to…' he trailed off 'see you soon Connie'

'Yeah' she agreed quietly as he walked from the room back onto the ward, still reeling from the surreal situation he had just been a part of

'Was she crying?' Chrissie glanced up as he stepped from the office, unphased by his presence in the hospital

'No' Ric said shortly as he went outside to call his daughter

Connie sat in silence for a few moments after Ric left her office, attempting to compose herself although her efforts were in vain. Just when she thought her day couldn't get any stranger or any worse, Ric came charging back onto the scene, spoiling for a fight and caught her on one the very rare occasions where she stopped coping and broke down. Credit where credit is due, he had handled the situation with a level of tact that no other member of her staff, her husband included, could ever hope to achieve. For a moment, she had forgotten the mutual dislike between them, the guilt she felt at how she'd treated him when she'd first arrived and the constant tension that filled the air when they were together. She was just pleased to see him and this confused her further. Since he'd left, she honestly hadn't given him a second thought – one fewer nemesis to deal with was her view; he'd more than proved his position when he'd jumped to the defence of Zubin in the board meeting, but yet today all she wanted to do was lie in his arms and cry. She never felt that way about anyone, even Michael.

Eventually her reverie was broken by a buzzing sound and it took her a few moments to identify the noise as her mobile and a further few seconds to locate the phone and remember how to answer it so by the time she said 'hello' she was seriously hassled and all thoughts of Ric Griffin had flown from her mind.

'We need to talk' an all to familiar voice began and she immediately felt nausea rising within her again, an effect that his voice invariably had on her. Her mind was screaming, her head was spinning and suddenly she was eighteen again.

'How the hell did you get this number?' she snapped, hoping to defer the point of the phone call until she could make her excuses and destroy the phone.

'It was on Chrissie's phone…' he did at least have the decency to sound guilty at his deceitfulness but his guilt did nothing to pacify her. If he was going to have a sudden attack of conscience, he had done far worse things than go through his girlfriends phone and steal the number of her boss.

'How the hell did Chrissie get this number?' was Connie's next question. She knew she was being unreasonable but that didn't bother her. It wasn't a very reasonable situation to find yourself in.

'That's not really the point, now, is it Connie?' his voice took on a patronising tone and she fought the urge to go and find Zubin, her preferred punch bag at all times, and rearrange his features into something resembling a Picasso.

'No, the point is I've asked you to leave me alone, you are ignoring me' she snapped furiously 'now get off the phone and out of my life. I'm not going to ask you again'

'What are you going to do Connie?' he asked quietly but she instantly recognised the small element of laughter behind his quiet tones, just as there was all those years ago whenever she did something, invariably unfunny and often downright humiliating, that he found amusing 'I don't work for you so you can't fire me, we're not married so you can't divorce me and we both know you aren't going to go telling Chrissie your life story. I think you're out of options, don't you'

'I…' she trailed off for a moment, stunned that she was being spoken to in this manner, although she didn't know why she expected any respect from him. Finally, she steeled herself 'I'll think of something and believe me you won't like it. Now just leave me alone'

'Meet me once and I'll disappear' he said slowly and she paused, wondering whether half an hour of her time was a price worth paying for removing him from her life forever 'I promise, you won't see me again, I'll even leave Chrissie and Holby behind, you have my word. Half an hour, that's all I ask'

'Fine' she snapped, noticing with surprise that in her tension she had picked at her cuticle until it was raw and bleeding 'when and where?'

'Thursday' he stated 'The Bar?'

'Don't be ridiculous' she barked impatiently 'if we're going to do that we may as well meet on the ward; we'd be seen. We'll meet in Century Park by the bandstand, at midday. Don't be late'

'Fine' he said shortly and hung up leaving her mouthing stunned at the phone.