Thank you for the reviews. It's so lovely to hear what people think about the plot or my writing style. This is my first fanfic, and my other is a one-shot so not multi-chapter like this one.

Rita was ready to leave. It was a strange feeling – leaving as a patient and not as a member of staff. She felt more vulnerable, more 'on display'. Physically, she felt ok, much better, and most definitely ready to leave. Emotionally she felt drained. As if someone had taken all her energy and positive thoughts and drained them in one simple procedure.

As she stood by the door, she felt a hand upon her shoulder and give a gentle squeeze.

"How are you doing?" came the concerned voice. She turned around to come face to face with Connie. Connie who'd barely left her side from the moment that she was admitted. Connie who'd cared for her as if she was a close family member. Connie who'd shown so much care, compassion and understanding – even when she'd been at her lowest point.

"I'm ready to leave," Rita began. Then she stopped. She didn't really know what to say next. She didn't want to say that she was fine because she wasn't. Not really. Deep down she knew she had a long way to go before she could really and truly say that she was OK.

"How are you getting home?" Connie asked. She had picked up on Rita's nerves and hesitation. She wanted nothing more than to scoop her up into her arms and keep her safe.

"Oh, a taxi," Rita mumbled. "It should be here soon," she added, as if trying to make polite conversation.

"I'll pop round later?" It was more of a question than a statement, but Rita couldn't help but feel that she didn't have a choice.

"I'll be fine. I just need to rest." In her head Rita couldn't see where this was going. As much as she'd grown close to Connie over the past few days, she was still fearful of the formidable clinical lead.

"OK, well, I'll pop round later," Connie replied as she released the grip that she'd had on her hand.

"You don't need to, I'll be fine," Rita hurriedly responded.

"I want to," Connie said with feeling. Connie drew Rita into a slight hug as her taxi approached. She watched as Rita gently climbed in and made herself comfortable. She waved as the taxi made its way out of sight.

The taxi pulled up outside the address that she'd given the driver. Rita passed him the money for the fare and gathered her things together.

"You alright love? You need a hand?" he asked kindly, turning round slightly to look at her.

"I'll be fine," she replied hurriedly. The last thing she wanted was anyone thinking that she couldn't cope. "But thank you," she added, worried she'd been too quick to turn down his offer of help. "Thanks," she called out as she shut the door of the taxi firmly.

She stood for a moment, taking a deep breath before she made her way up the path towards the front door. Part of her was pleased to be home. Being in the ED as a patient had made her feel uneasy; it was hard being looked after by your work colleagues when you were at your lowest point. The other part of her was reluctant to find out what lay on the other side of the door. She'd left the house unconscious, by ambulance, and she had no idea what state the house was in. With some trepidation, she turned the key in the lock and gently pushed the door open. He hallway looked remarkably like it always did.

She didn't know what she'd been expecting but the sight of normality seemed to calm her slightly. As she moved through the house and into the sitting room, everything seemed in its rightful place. The sofa wasn't littered with vodka bottles and empty tablet foils as she had anticipated. She wandered through to the kitchen and filled the kettle with fresh water ready to make a cup of tea. As she glanced around the kitchen, the enormity of the previous few days seemed to catch up with her. The overwhelming feeling of being alone seemed to catch up with her once more. Thoughts began to take over her mind; what if no one had found her? What if the neighbour had been out and hadn't her crash to the floor? What if he'd thought nothing of the noise he'd heard and hadn't bothered coming round to check? So many 'what ifs' were going through her mind.

Rita made herself a cup of tea and carried it through to the sitting room. Having changed into her pyjamas, she settled herself down on the sofa, with her head on many pillows and snuggled under a fleecy blanket. The room felt strangely quiet in comparison to the constant busyness and noise of the hospital so she found some easy viewing on the TV, with the volume turned quite low. The events of the past few days had definitely taken it out of her and drained a lot of her energy. As she lay there watching the mind-numbing daytime TV show, she couldn't help but think about how Connie had been over the past few days. The time and care she'd given Rita were undoubtedly second to none. Rita couldn't help but wonder what had caused the remarkable change in the clinical lead's behaviour and attitude.

Rita woke with a start to the sound of the doorbell. She groaned as she woke up and realised where she was. Maybe if she didn't get up the caller would give up and go away. The silence before the bell rang shrilly again was remarkably short lived. This caller wasn't going to be easily put off.

She stumbled to the front door; her head and mind still heavy with sleep and her limbs not quite as responsive and co-ordinated as they should be. Tentatively she opened the door and peered round to take a look at her persistent visitor.

"How're you feeling?" came the soft, caring voice from the brunette that stood on her doorstep.

"Connie," Rita started, "you shouldn't have come."

"I just needed to check that you were ok," came the gentle response. Rita noticed her choice of words. She hadn't just wanted to check she was ok; she'd needed to check that she was ok. Maybe that was the doctor in her. Although, Rita was fairly sure that Connie didn't need to check up on every patient that came through the doors of the ED.

"Do you want to come in?" Rita asked, opening the door a little wider. Connie nodded, almost imperceptibly, before stepping over the threshold and into Rita's home. Connie slipped her feet from her heels as she entered, leaving them on the doormat and leaving her in stocking feet. Rita gestured for her to follow her through the hall and into the sitting room.

"Would you like a drink?" she asked. "I was just about to make some more tea."

"I'd love a coffee please," Connie replied, "here, let me put the kettle on."

"I can do it myself, I'm not completely incapable." Rita knew that her sharp response was a result of her own insecurities but she just couldn't help it. She didn't need looking after. She'd lived alone for a long time and didn't want to become dependent upon anyone anytime soon.

"I know, I just," Connie began, "That wasn't what I meant," she finished. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around the frail, thin frame of her clinical nurse manager and cocoon her in love until she felt better.

"Sorry, I just…" Rita mumbled as she began to fill the kettle. She suddenly felt very vulnerable in front of Connie, especially as she was dressed in her pyjamas. Despite her feelings of being so exposed in front of the usually formidable clinical lead, she couldn't help but feel the butterflies in her stomach and in her chest as she remained in the same room as her.

"I'm sorry Rita," came the soft, quiet voice from the other side of the room. "I'm sorry for how I treated you, for how I pushed you - for how I didn't listen or understand."

"You don't need to apologise," came the considered response. "You're my boss, not my partner. It's not your fault that I am too weak to cope with the pressure and find unsuitable ways of dealing with my own insecurities."

Hope you like it. More to come with Connie being caring towards Rit