The cab pulled up to the intersection, slowing to a stop at the red traffic light. Steve nervously drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing beside him to where Carla sat, her arms crossed and staring out the window beside her. His eyebrows lifted and he pressed his lips together before raising his eyes to look in the rearview mirror to settle on Peter, sitting behind him, staring at Carla with an unimpressed look on his face. Steve looked back out to the windshield, clearing his throat slightly as the light changed and the cab started moving again, "Sooo, uhhh do we need to make any stops along the way?"

The car was heavy with tension, and getting heavier as the silence dragged on.

The minute seemed to tick on forever, until Peter finally broke the silence, "Yeah, if you could find us a 24 hour off license or sommit so I could pick up these anti-nausea tablets the doctor recommended, before dropping us off at Carla's, Steve." The bookie responded, his eyes still firmly fixed on Carla

"I have anti-nausea tablets at 'ome," Carla snapped irritably, "you can just drop me off at mine Steve, and quite frankly I don't care where you drop him off after that." She crossed her arms tighter across her body as she nudged her chin towards the backseat. "Send him off to Timbuktu, for all it concerns me."

Peter scowled, 'Stubborn little...' He leaned forward in his seat, "Carla, we've already been through this at the hospital," he gritted out, "the only reason you're not still in that cubicle in A&E, is because I've agreed to look after you tonight."

"I don't care what you've agreed to," Carla snapped back, "I'm going home alone."

Steve kept his eyes firmly on the road, letting out a frustrated breath as another set of traffic lights came into his sightline, turning red as he approached them. 'I don't believe this...' he cursed inwardly

"No. You're. Not." Peter leaned between the two captain seats, his face furious as he stared at the profile of the argumentative woman, finding himself both wanting to throttle her and kiss her at the same time, "the doctor said you need someone to watch you in case there's any side effects from the drug you were slip-"

"I said, I'm fine!" she turned her head sharply, her eyes searing into his. "I don't need your help!"

"No. You're. Not! and Yes. You. Do!" his voice was dangerously low, but she wasn't backing down

'Please turn green, please turn green...' Steve willed towards the light

The pair of them were totally oblivious to the cab driver's presence. The corner of Carla's mouth tugged into a smirk, and Peter couldn't help but stare at her lips. 'what I wouldn't give to kiss that mouth right now,' he thought his tongue darting subconsciously along his lower lip.

She watched his tongue glide along his lip, and turned her body slightly, inching her head closer to his, her eyes falling to his mouth and his breath hitched in his throat.

As the car started moving again, Steve turned his head awkwardly, his brows scrunched in complete confusion and exasperation at his two passengers.

"Well then I guess you best take me back to the hospital, because you're not staying at mine." She whispered, the hint of anger evident in her voice as she sat back and turned to look out the windshield, her arms folding across her chest once more.

Peter smirked and reached out to grab her chin, forcing her to look at him, "Now you listen to me, and you listen good Connor," he said evenly, "either I'm kipping at yours, or you at mine. But one way or another I will be keeping an eye on you tonight if I have to drag you kicking and screaming to the bedroom and tie you to the bed posts."

'Now that is an interesting thought...' he smiled in spite of himself.

Carla breathed out, her eyes becoming glassy, despite her best efforts to control her emotions. She could have pulled her chin away from his grasp; his fingers after all were barely grazing it, but she couldn't for the life of her get herself to do it. The feeling of his hands on her awoke all those butterflies in her stomach that had been laying dormant. She swallowed hard, noticing the seductive look on his face shifting to a concerned one, and she finally pulled away, her eyes fixing on the road ahead, and somehow managing to hug her arms tighter around herself.

"Fine," she finally whispered.

"Good." Peter replied, leaning back in his seat, "just to Carla's then, Steve."

Steve pulled up to another intersection, his eyes closing briefly in irritation as the lights shifted to red. 'oh, you have got to be joking!" He glanced sideways at Carla, who once again was looking out the passenger window, then back to Peter who was watching the factory boss with concern.

"Well, this is...nice." Steve stated, breaking the silence in the car.

Carla turned her head slowly to look at him, pinning him with that look of hers that sent a chill down his spine, and he felt his body inch away from her briefly before looking back in his rearview mirror to see Peter had now turned his disapproving look onto him, shaking his head his head at him.

Steve cleared his throat again, his eyes facing out towards the windshield once more, "I mean, uh, you know, under the circumstances and all..." He could still feel both sets of eyes boring into him, so he kept watching the light, praying for it to change with his mind...

Oh, what he wouldn't give to be at home dealing with the issues he was having with Becky and the £5000 fiasco right now...

Peter set up the pillow and duvet on the couch, removing his shoes and jacket and placing them near the flat door. He watched as Carla emerged from the bathroom, her face freshly cleaned and in a pair of pyjama pants and a t-shirt. Her hair had been pulled up into a messy bun, and she carried the clothes she had been wearing that day to the bedroom. After dropping off the bundle on a chair in the corner of her bedroom, she headed back towards the kitchen, her eyes looking down and avoiding the bookie, whose own followed her like a hawk.

"Still not speaking to me then?" he asked gruffly.

Carla turned on the tap, letting the water cool as she reached into one of the cabinets for a glass. She heard Peter move towards the kitchen, and she kept her back to him as she filled her glass and turned off the tap. Taking a sip she finally spun around to find him leaning against the oven.

Her eyes looked beyond him, "do you mind?" she inferred for him to let her pass

"I do, yeah" he responded, "not until you say sommit to me."

Carla sighed, her hand coming up to rub her forehead, "Peter, please. I am exhausted and just want to go to sleep." She didn't want to tell him how lightheaded she was feeling, as she tried to stand her ground against him.

Peter's eyes gazed over her, "Okay. But we do have to talk Carla, eventually," he lowered his eyes to meet hers, "agreed?"

Carla took in a shuddering breath, "yeah, agreed," she answered, her tongue running along her bottom lip, and a shaky hand reaching out to steady herself on the nearby counter.

Peter placed a hand on her shoulder, "you alright?" He asked the obvious question; he could see she wasn't.

Carla sighed, "I'm feeling a bit dizzy," she responded truthfully, "i just want to get into bed, if I'm honest."

"Okay, come on." He placed one arm around her waist, and took her glass in his free hand. He guided her into her bedroom and placed the water on the bedside table, while she kicked off her slippers. He pulled back the covers on her bed, and waited for her to climb in, covering her with the blankets once she was comfortable.

He ran a hand on the side of her head, "I'll be right outside, if you need anything, okay?" he whispered gently, and for the first time since the cab ride, she looked into his eyes. She sighed and nodded.

"Okay," he whispered, "try to get some sleep." He stood up, resisting the urge to plant a kiss on her forehead, and headed out to the living room, keeping her door open should he need to check on her throughout the night.

Carla watched him leave the room, and immediately felt a sense of dread taking over. She pushed it away as she snuggled down beneath the covers, her eyes heavy and closing within minutes...

It was the sound of material thrashing about that shifted him from his sleep. Peter tiredly glanced at the clock on the wall, 4:54AM. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, listening intently for anymore movement from Carla's bedroom. Once a few minutes had silently passed, he repositioned himself on his back, his eyes closing once again before a bloodcurling scream emitted from the woman in the bedroom.

Peter threw the blanket off of him and dashed into the bedroom, finding Carla curled on her side, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms curled around them. Her body was shaking and her eyes, wet with tears looked upon him in terror, "He's not gone, he's not gone...he's coming back - he's coming back for me..." she shakily whispered

Peter tentatively approached her, assuming she had not fully awoken yet, "who, love? Who is?"

"Tony..." she answered, her eyes unfocused on him, "it's Tony..." she suddenly took in a sharp breath and her head shook rapidly, coming back into consciousness. Her eyes scanned the room around her, and fell once again on Peter. Her breathing was erratic, but her body beginning to relax as she recognized him.

"Petrol. I can still smell the petrol," she whispered, "the smell was suffocating and the smoke...the smoke were choking me..." her voice croaked

"It's okay," he whispered reassuringly, climbing into the bed behind her, and wrapping his arms around her shaking body, "it was just a dream, Carla. You're safe now..."