Occasionally Dylan does something very un-dylany (what do you mean dylany isn't a word?) I try to minimise the occasions but without it the story would never move forward, chances are it bothers me more than it does everyone else but I just wanted to apologise if you see something that feels out of character. Anyway enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think. X

As usual I don't own casualty but in this chapter I also down own To Kill a Mockingbird. If you haven't read it, it's a fantastic book give it a look.

'I never heard tell that it's against the law for a citizen to do his utmost to prevent a crime from being committed.' Mr Tate - Sheriff of Maycomb county. (To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee)

Sam unlocked the door to Dylan's houseboat, allowing Dervla to go in ahead of her. She kicked off her ugg boots and left them on the door mat, then hung up the lead she was carrying and made her way through to the kitchen to make sure that Dervla had enough food and water. She was surprised to see her husband in the living area fussing over the excited dog.

"Sorry, I thought you were working." Dylan looked up at her without removing his hand from Dervla's soft coat.

"I was." He hadn't been there when Sam had collected Dervla earlier, but that was only a couple of hours ago and the copy of his shift pattern she had said he was on lates. Sam shuffled uncomfortably,

"I'll just err... Sorry." She turned to leave,

"Sam," he noticed suddenly that she was wearing his jacket but made no comment. "Do you want a coffee?"

"No," she looked at the floor. "I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me," he didn't raise his voice but he sounded angry "you are not fine." He moved a little closer scrutinising her appearance with his hands on his hips, making her squirm a little under his clinical gaze. "When was the last time you ate?" She started to answer but he cut in, "A proper meal, coffee isn't food."

"But the caffeine lyses the fat stored in the body making it available for..."

"Yes I know," she was dodging the question which he was finding really annoying, suddenly knowing how the counsellor felt when trying to get an answer out of him. "We did that research together, but you clearly have no fat stores and it doesn't change the fact that coffee is not food." She flinched, his tone had been so harsh he may as well have shouted at her. "Well, when was it?"

"I don't know." Her voice was small, and her eyes were glued to the floor boards. Dylan didn't reply, instead he strode of in the direction of the kitchen with her trailing along in his wake feeling very much like a disciplined child. He started pulling things out of cupboards and putting pans on the stove, he turned back to see Sam stood in the doorway trying to shrink into her clothes.

"Sit down." He wasn't asking, so she took off the jacket and sat on the stool he indicated resting her elbows on the breakfast bar and her head on her hands. She was expecting him to comment about elbows on the table but she was so exhausted from lack of sleep and worry that even holding up her own head had become hard work. Dylan glanced at her every now and then as he threw ingredients into pans but didn't try to engage her in conversation, she was clearly deep in her own thoughts. Eventually he placed two plates of food on the counter, he'd always been the one to cook when they had been together. Sam could cook when she really had to but her specialities were pot noodle or toast so Dylan had attempted to teach her but after much frustration and a few burnt meals he gave up and resigned himself to being head chef, she'd got him the hat at one point.

"Thank you." He nodded in acknowledgement and passed Sam a fork before sitting down opposite her and digging in to his own meal, it was only pasta with a tomato sauce but it was food. He hadn't been expecting sharing his dinner with anyone other than Dervla so had nothing special in. They ate in silence for a while, Dylan watching as Sam picked at her pasta. She should have been ravenous but was barely eating and chewing each mouthful very thoroughly.

"Have you read 'To Kill a Mocking Bird?" Sam looked up from her plate, she didn't reply immediately. The randomness of the question had completely thrown her, apart from anything else Dylan didn't do books. He read research papers and medical journals, but he wouldn't normally waste his time reading something that wasn't educational. He'd taken her silence as a no, "It's a book by Harper Lee."

"Yes, I know. I had to read it for GCSE" He frowned at her. She knew why, he hated having to talk when it wasn't necessary. "Why?"

"It might help."

"With what? I don't remember things working out too well for Tom Robinson," her tone lowered slightly "He was innocent too."

"You can borrow it." Sam pushed her half empty plate away, shrugging when he narrowed his eyes at her. Not having eaten properly for about a week her stomach had shrunk so she couldn't manage the huge portion he'd served her, he was releived to have seen her eat something even if she hadnt finished it. She slid off the stool and followed him back through to the lounge slumping on the sofa that used to stand in the living room of the house they had bought together while he rummaged on the bookshelf above the fire place. It felt so natural to be here with him, surrounded by things that had once been 'theirs' but at the same time she felt as though she was invading his personal space. There was nothing that defined the room as 'his' it was just a feeling, like he inhabited the whole environment leaving no room for her. It was completely opposite to the way Sam live, she was just staying in her flat rather than living there, she hadn't even properly unpacked. "Here it is" Dylan passed her the black book, she recognised the cover from when she had been forced to read it ten years before. She nodded her thanks and set the book on the floor in front of the sofa, picking her feet up to curl under her and resting her head on the arm. Dylan settled himself in the arm chair which resided at her end of the sofa, it had always been Sam's end. Where she sat, not even Dervla sat there. She would occasionally be seen staring at the spot wistfully and Dylan often wondered if the dog was missing Sam as much as he was. "Have you got counselling tomorrow?" Sam shook her head without lifting it from where is was pillowed against the upholstery,

"Meeting with the hospital lawyers, you?"

"Same," Dylan stared straight forward rather than looking at her worried that his next question would be met with dismissal and unwilling to see the rejection me was sure would fill her eyes. "err, do you want me to wait for you in the ED?"

He glanced over at where she was curled on the sofa wondering why she hadn't replied only to see that she was fast asleep. Quietly so as not to wake her he gently pulled the throw that lived over the back of the sofa down over her sleeping form and brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen over her face, briefly allowing his fingers to linger on her soft cheek. He momentarily considered kissing her forehead as he used to but resisted the urge in case she woke, certain that she wouldn't be impressed. "Sleep tight" he whispered before creeping away to his bed with giving her sleeping mistress one last look before slinking out of the room behind him.

Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it if you did (or if you didn't) please let me know why I love to hear your thoughts.

I know they wouldn't have done the caffeine research, it is very basic. It was actually my dissertation but in the last chapter you learnt phsychology, law the chapter before so this time you get biochemistry. It is true that caffeine helps release the fat stored in your body so it can be used for respiration at a faster rate than without caffeine, it's not a huge amount though and I wouldn't suggest this as a diet plan.