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Rachel had never been someone who easily felt threatened. She'd been told more than once she had a distinct lack of self-preservation, one that translated into most areas of her life. She'd had students far bigger than her rage in her presence, and not even flinched. She'd had parents threaten her- hadn't that been fun- and had spent several years in a profession where she made herself vulnerable to other people, and had more than her fair share of cuts and bruises to prove it. Stuart Hordley was a whole different kettle of fish.

She couldn't find her words as he closed the door behind him, moved closer to her with an unreadable look on his face. He looked gaunt, tired, but in more or less one piece and she wasn't sure whether that relieved her or terrified her more. He stood, unmoving and silent and it was so unlike their previous interactions, she didn't know what to think.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was quiet, but it didn't shake and she'd never been more thankful for anything. There was a long pause.

"My secretary said you were trying to get a hold of me."

"It didn't require a personal visit."

"Well, I know how very important this project is." His intonation was strange, eyes glittering oddly as he stepped forward. "And despite the week I'm having, I'm still very much involved with it."

He knew something. Rachel could scarcely breathe, wanted to rise to her feet, put them on the same level but she wasn't completely convinced her legs would hold her up. The way he was looking at her, the fact that nobody else was around… her heart felt like it was going to thunder right out of her chest. "Stuart…?"

"I know you did something." He began to stalk around the desk, towards her and she didn't even think before she scrambled backwards, shoving her chair to the side without thinking about it as he advanced on her.

"What are you talking about?"

"You think I don't know? You must have had something to do with it!"

"With what?"

"You expect me to believe it's a coincidence?" How had this escalated so quickly? Stuart's gaze was wild, and Rachel was unbelievably thankful that the desk was between them. "Stuart." She spoke softly, attempting to keep her tone quiet and measured. "Why don't you tell me what's happened?

He jabbed a finger at her. "You did this. I know you did this. I don't know how, but I swear, I will burn your pretty little life into ashes!"

"You're insane." How Rachel kept her voice calm she would never know. "Get out of my office."

"Oh, I will." He stepped closer, leant over the desk. "I'll leave, and go to the staffroom. And the canteen, and the corridors and anywhere else I can think of and I'll tell everyone your little secret, how their headteacher is nothing but a filthy-"

"Stop it!" She slammed her hands down, eyes flashing. "I have done everything you wanted me to! I do not know what your problem is but I want you out of my school!"

She didn't know how it happened. One moment, they were stood glaring at each other, her desk safely between them and then it seemed as if she merely blinked and Stuart was somehow in front of her, spitting mad as he shoved her backwards into the wall. Rachel yelped, the sound high-pitched and unusual for her. Her brain was playing catch up, events not fully processing until suddenly, she felt his hand close around her throat.

Her gasp was cut off halfway through, as her airway was forcibly constricted. Her hands flew up to wrap around Stuart's wrists, but he had more leverage and she quickly revised all of the feelings she'd ever had towards him because in that moment, for the first time, she was truly terrified.

This wasn't the first time someone had throttled her, unfortunately, but it was the first time it had been done with so much hatred directed towards her. The logical part of her brain wondered what was going to happen next. If Stuart killed her here, it would be damn hard for him to cover that up. Was he rational enough to recognise that? But if he did stop, that would cause its own share of problems. Her eyes met Stuart's, and there was almost no recognition. Certainly no remorse, or hesitation, just anger and madness and this was how she was going to die. Just what this school needed, she thought sardonically- another death attached to it.

Her lungs were beginning to burn. Her muscles bunched and contracted, desperately trying to draw in a breath while her fingers scrabbled, nails clawing at his hands, his wrists, even his face and she tried to kick him but couldn't quite get the angle, and of all the times she was interrupted in her office why on earth was no one coming now? She swiped at his eyes, and he jerked backwards, dislodged just enough that she managed half a desperate inhale before the pressure on her throat returned. She aimed again but this time he was ready for her and she would have snarled at him if she could, because she was not dying here and certainly not by his hand. She writhed and twisted and managed to snatch tiny gobbles of air, not enough, nowhere near but all the movement forced Stuart to shift his weight, moving him backwards and that was her chance.

Rachel brought her knee up as hard as she could. It landed bang on target, and almost instantly the hands at her throat were gone. She was across the room in the same time it took her to draw a whole breath, gasping for more, turning to watch Stuart with wary eyes as she leant against the wall for support. He was bent double, wheezing and she couldn't deny the sliver of satisfaction that settled into her stomach. Right up until the moment that he raised his head, and narrowed his eyes at her.

"Rachel?"

They both looked around at the sound of a voice from the outer office. She'd never been so relieved to be interrupted- Tom poked his head in, brow furrowing as he glanced between her and Stuart on opposite sides of the room. "Everything okay?"

"Stuart was just leaving." Her voice was shaky and raw sounding, and she saw the concerned look on Tom's face out of the corner of her eye, but couldn't turn from Stuart. He'd straightened, eyes piercing into hers. And then without a word, he did as she said, stalking from the room and leaving behind a painfully awkward silence. Rachel could feel Tom's gaze on her, but didn't dare look at him, too afraid she would break.

"I'll come back later," he said eventually, and closed the door behind him.

Rachel collapsed onto the sofas. She'd have to remember to buy Tom a drink, next time they were out, but for now her focus was elsewhere. Her fingers fumbled for her phone, dialling the number as quickly as she could and the line had barely clicked before she was talking. "What the hell did you do?"

She realised too late that her voice was raspy and hoarse, and there was just a hint of more fear than anger than she would have liked. There was a beat of silence. "I solved your problem, just as you asked."

"Solved it?" Her voice rose hysterically, but she ignored the pain that speaking caused. "You made it worse! He just tried to strangle me, for God's sake, you've not solved anything!"

"He tried to strangle you?" There was an odd note in his voice, but Rachel barely had time to process it when the door burst open again.

"Rach, do you have the file on- what the hell?"

It was as if Eddie flew to her side, crossing the short distance in an instant with horror and fury etched into the lines of his face. She was confused for the longest moment, until he was brushing her hair back and tilting her chin up, and only then did she realise that the angle they'd been at had let her neck at least partially visible to him, and that Stuart must have left his mark on her.

She swallowed, tried to think of something to say but Eddie was too busy examining the redness marring her skin. "Are those fingers?"

"Eddie, it's okay…"

"It's not okay!" She felt the rough pads of his own fingers brush her throat, allowed him to tilt her head this way and that in order to get a better look. "Christ, your throat's going to be black and blue in a few hours! What happened? Did one of the kids do this?"

"Of course not!" She frowned at him, but couldn't stay annoyed when she saw the raw concern he was emanating. "It was Stuart," she explained quietly, and his whole face darkened.

"WHAT."

Her hand shot out, landing on his wrist and squeezing lightly. "Eddie, I'm fine."

Eddie looked at her incredulously, speechless for a moment as he waved his hand at her. "You… are not fine!" he spluttered. "You have red finger marks circled around your throat! Rach, he could have killed you! Do you need to go to the hospital?"

She wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the worry in his eyes, or the way he was focused entirely on her, or simply the fact that he was there and she still felt shaky, but all of a sudden the only thing Rachel wanted was him. She shook her head, shifted so that she could wrap her arms around him- the angle was awkward and slightly uncomfortable, but there was no hesitation before he embraced her back and she closed her eyes in the warmth of him, relishing in the feeling. "No hospitals," she murmured. "I'm okay."

She felt him press a kiss to her hair, his lips lingering before he rested his cheek in their place. "Tell me that again when you've stopped shaking."

She squeezed her eyes more tightly shut, grip firm around him and it was only then that she caught sight of her phone still in her hand, and that she'd forgotten all about the call she'd been on.

Without moving away from Eddie, a flick of a finger lit the screen up, and revealed that the call had been cancelled. But she had no idea how much the man on the other end had heard first, or what he'd do about it and her rash actions suddenly seemed like a much worse idea than they had before.

W.R.

"This looks great." Rachel gave Eddie a warm smile as they settled onto her sofa, balancing plates on their laps.

He shrugged at her. "It's nothing amazing, but it's edible."

"It's a homecooked meal, trust me, that's wonderful." She glanced at him. "Especially when you wouldn't help me cook it."

"That would defeat the point of spoiling you, wouldn't it?"

She wasn't quite quick enough to hide the way her cheeks turned pink, and Eddie couldn't help but grin at the sight. There had been no way he was going to let her be alone tonight, but equally she had wanted nothing more than to go home and so they had compromised, although Eddie had insisted on cooking dinner. Which was how they'd ended up here, with two steaming risottos and the tv playing some programme that didn't require too much brain power to follow.

It hadn't been playing long when Eddie suddenly spoke. "You should go to the police."

Rachel didn't even look at him. "No."

"Rachel…!"

"No." It was firm and emphatic, enough that it gave him pause.

"You're making a mistake." He speared a chunk of chicken, jabbing it harder than necessary.

"Maybe. But that is my mistake to make." Now, she turned her head, eyes piercing. "Eddie, please, I don't want to argue with you again. Can we just agree to disagree and leave it?"

He sighed, putting his plate to one side. "And what if Stuart goes further next time? Sane people don't strangle women in the middle of a school, he's obviously not right in the head! Your way of fixing this hasn't worked, Rach."

Her fork made a clatter as she threw it down. "And going to the police will?"

"I don't know!" he exploded, and it was as if a dam had broken. "I don't know if it will change anything! Maybe it won't do a damn thing! But it's got to be better than you sitting there with a ring of bruises around your throat! Do you have any idea what it's like for me to-" his voice cracked and Rachel looked stunned, ice spilling down her spine. "Goddamn it, Rachel, do you realise how many times you've broken down in my arms in the past few weeks? Do you know what it's like to have to watch that?"

"Eddie-,"

"You could have died today." His voice was flat, but there was a tremor that he didn't quite manage to conceal. "If things had gone differently, if Tom hadn't walked in… he could have killed you. Does that even register with you? You… you could have…"

It was Rachel's turn to take Eddie into her arms and for him to cling to her tightly, drawing her into his lap, grip so strong that she almost couldn't breathe. She didn't care. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, arms engulfing her. She hadn't realised, Rachel thought, almost paralyzed with guilt. She hadn't seen how this affected him as well. Her lips pressed against his skin, whatever she could reach. Over and over, and it wasn't until she tasted salt that she realised she was crying.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She felt Eddie kiss the curve of her neck, just once, before his cheek pressed against hers. "I don't care if this is too fast," he murmured. "The thought of anything happening to you… Rachel…"

Her hand was warm against his jaw. "Nothing's going to happen to me. I'm right here, and I'm fine."

Eddie drew back, trailing the backs of his fingers over the discolouration on her throat. The bruises had blossomed into purple and blue hues, dark enough to be noticeable. He had no idea how she planned to hide them the next day, nor how to explain them away. What they were was obvious.

He didn't even think about it before he lowered his head to brush his lips against the marks, and Rachel's breath hitched. She tipped her head back, allowing him access to follow the line around her throat, his lips rough and hot against her skin. "Eddie…" She didn't remember closing her eyes, but suddenly her face was being tipped downwards and she found herself fluttering her eyelids open, looking straight into his eyes.

Time stopped. The entire world fell away, until it was just the two of them, with unsteady breathing and an almost painful awareness of the other. Rachel reached out, fingers trembling as she touched them to his jaw, stubble scratching the pads of her fingers. One of his hands was rested on her hip, practically burning through the material of her trousers and Rachel was perfectly aware of every inch of him, from where his hands were to the feel of his thighs beneath her and the jolt of want that ran through her was so strong it took her breath away.

She couldn't have kept from kissing him for anything. What started out as slow and deep quickly heated, Eddie's mouth moving hard against hers, his hands pulling her flush against him. She'd ended up straddling him somewhere along the way, and it was a position that gave him complete access. She wasn't about to complain. His movements had a touch of desperation, hands clutching and just a bit too hard, too hurried and Rachel slid her fingers through his hair, nuzzling into him. "I'm right here. I'm fine, Eddie. I'm so sorry."

Yes she was, Eddie thought, warm and alive beneath his hands. And he intended to show her exactly how much that meant to him.