The showers. Stuart was starting to hate them. The constant need to watch his back, and now the added stress of being unable to get to a phone. Something was going to happen. He wasn't sure if it was intended to happen to him, but if it was Jo they were after. His blood ran cold at that thought. He was going out of his mind with worry.

The prison officer he had been watching on and off for the last two days appeared in the doorway, and the hairs stood up on the back of Stu's neck. Shit, it's going to happen right here and now. He wasn't alone but he recognised the other two prisoners as two of the goons who had attacked him before.

They grabbed him. He tried to fight back, but the weight of two men bearing him up against the wall was too much. They pinned him there, while he continued to struggle and the guard yanked his wrists back and cuffed him.

"Well, well, well. Stuart Turner... the ace detective of Wanted." Trevor Jones's voice. Stu still struggled, he wasn't going to go down without a fight, the two goons grabbed hold of his cuffed wrists and forced his arms up behind him, the strain on his shoulders giving him no choice but to bend over, and a boot sunk into his ribs. He cried out and still tried to struggle. The baton blow to the tensed thigh muscle of his right leg caused him to buckle. They let him go and he fell, his right thigh convulsing, the leg was numb. He lay on his side and waited for the attack, he could do nothing to defend himself, his leg was useless and with his hands cuffed behind his back he didn't stand a chance. This is going to be bad.

"Hold it right there. Back away from him."

Stuart Turner had never thought he would be glad to hear the voice of Phil Hunter. He lay on his side panting with effort, and screwed his eyes shut. Hands reached out and he felt the cuffs removed from his wrists. He opened his eyes and pushed himself into a sitting position. Max Carter was there, and Jack Meadows, the room seemed filled with police officers. Stu didn't even try to work it out, they were there, and this nightmare was over. That was all he cared about.

His ribs ached, his leg was still numb and he had no intention of trying to stand up just yet. He looked up at Meadows. "What about Jo?"

Meadows looked down at his sergeant. "Neil's gone after her..."

Stu closed his eyes in relief. The feeling was returning to his right leg, and he levered himself off the floor. Phil grabbed his arm as his leg threatened to buckle again. He shot a grateful look at his former mortal enemy and limped stiffly over to pick up a towel. Getting beat up in the showers didn't exactly leave him with either the room or the inclination to dry carefully between his toes, so he toweled himself down roughly and slung on his clothes.

"Please let's get out of here." He shot a look at Jack Meadows who nodded. Leaving Phil and Special Ops to sort out the mess was fine by him.

"YOU..." Trevor Jones snarled and lunged. Without even thinking about it, Stu sidestepped and snapped an elbow backwards into Jones' face. The former drug dealer screamed and went down clutching his broken nose. Max and Jack stared, Stu grinned "slippery floor... all that soap." He didn't even bother to look back. He had somewhere he needed to be.

It felt good to be back in his own clothes again. He'd slung on what he'd had in the bag under his desk, his dark blue jeans, and a navy v neck jumper, and was headed out before anyone could even draw breath. He wasn't up for the mountain of paperwork, nor for the congratulations of his colleagues. He just wanted to get to the pub, get the one person who meant everything to him and get out of there. He'd been promised they could have a week. Jack had okayed it. And Stuart was going to take full advantage of it.

As her colleagues swarmed in noisy profusion to the bar, Jo stood back. She could feel the tears building, her hormones were all over the place, she was worn out, stressed beyond endurance. Well this was her hissy fit, she'd worked for it, she'd earned it and no one was going to deprive her of it. She'd come that close. She had nearly lost him, and that was too much to take. Now it was over. Stu was a free man again, the nightmare for them had ended. Just for once, she was going to give in to her instincts and howl like a coyote.

A pair of strong arms wound themselves around her. Jo choked. And turned in his arms to burrow against him. Neither of them cared what their colleagues thought. They just hung on. She buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent, rubbing her cheek against the softness of his jumper, feeling the firm muscles of the broad strong shoulder she was being held against. He was there, he was safe, and she guessed he was mostly unharmed. Her arms tightened round his ribcage, and he winced as she squeezed a tender spot, but he hugged her tightly to him all the same.

"I'm sorry." he murmured against her hair, his fingers stroking the soft bright auburn tresses. "I should have said no."

"Hun... you couldn't... I know..." His hand tilted her chin up, his thumb wiped away her tears and then he leaned in to kiss her, oblivious to the startled silence that fell around them. Her arms slid up round his neck and she relaxed into his kiss. Their tongues met and entwined and they explored each other hungrily. Almost a month of forced distance between them and they threw caution to the winds.

They came up for air slowly. The stunned silence registered. He looked down into her eyes. "I think they know."

"You think?"

"Just in case. Shall we do it again." He captured her lips again, and she melted against him. This time uproar, amongst the wolf whistles and shouts of get a room Stuart held on to Jo and made good on a promise he'd made before the nightmare.

When they came up for air a second time, Jo took his hand. "I know you want out of here, hun. But I think we owe it to them to stay for a bit." Stu nodded. He was surprised to find just how many people had been prepared to believe that the story wasn't true. He had friends, people who cared about him. He struggled to process that startling information in his already overwhelmed brain as Jo tugged his hand and he followed her to a table. A drink appeared out of nowhere as he slid down into the seat next to Jo and put his arm around her waist.

"Congratulations, DS Turner. A fine result." Heaton looked down at the younger man. "Well worth the risk."

"Sir." Stuart looked down at his pint, "though if I had known exactly what I might have lost," he looked round at his friends, at the people who had believed in him and knew that that meant more to him than any congratulations, "I'm sure I wouldn't have gone through with it." His voice wobbled a bit, and Jo squeezed his hand.

Heaton had the grace to look a bit shamefaced. "Well done." He moved away. And Stu struggled for control. Jo leaned into him, he bent his head to kiss her, and to conceal the tears that slid silently down his cheeks.

A couple of companionable pints later, when Stuart was feeling pleasantly mellow, and the evening was just beginning to lose a little focus, Stevie looked at him and Jo. "If you two are..." she struggled for the right word, "seeing each other, then who is D?"

Stu took a swig from his pint, "I have no idea."

He looked at Jo. "Do you?"

"No. Should I have?" Jo looked believably blank.

"But the roses?" Stevie looked at them, and decided that playing poker with either of them would be a really bad idea.

"The roses." Stu agreed. And Stevie huffed in frustration.

"Who is D?"

Stu smiled.

They walked towards the taxi rank. Stu was not entirely sober, but alert enough to walk in a relatively straight line, his arm around Jo's waist, her arm around his. It felt really good resting there. They paused by the rank, it was empty. Jo picked up the rank phone and spoke to the dispatcher on the other end of it.

"Taxi will be here in ten minutes." She slid her arms around his neck and smiled up at him, "you're not exactly sober... you know" she grinned.

"No I'm not." he agreed, the merest suspicion of slur in his words. "But I am sober enough to know this," he took her hands in both of his, and went down on one knee. "I love you more than anyone I have ever loved in my life before, I know that this was never part of our plans, but... will you marry me... Joanne Louise Masters." He took one hand from hers, and fished in his jacket pocket.

Jo took the ring. It had never been part of her plan. And it wasn't changing her, she knew that, Stu loved her and accepted her on her terms, he'd proved that time and time again. And it was no longer just him and her, now they were expecting a baby. A child born of the closest relationship she had ever had with anybody. She looked down at him, taking in the hopeful gaze of his brown eyes and nodded.

"Yes. I will marry you. But for god's sake get up from that ridiculous position before anyone sees you."

He grinned and surged to his feet, scooping her up in his arms.

"Put me down you crazy man." She tried to sound stern

"Tomorrow?" He hugged her.

"Tomorrow? Stu, what have you been drinking? We can't get married tomorrow."

"Okay not tomorrow, but in three days time. Will you marry me in three days time?"

She grinned back, his enthusiasm was infectious, even if she didn't really have the slightest clue what he was talking about. "Idiot. I haven't a clue what you're going on about, but if it will make you happy. Yes. I will marry you in three days time."

"Good." He turned round, "Taxi!!" He dragged her into it, tumbling onto the back seat he lifted her in his arms, and gave directions to the driver.