A/N: First off, thank you SO much for all the reviews, guys! They're lovely and I'm ever so grateful for them all ") Secondly, I have no idea how police procedures go, so whether this type of thing could/would happen is unknown on my behalf, but I hope it's more or less believable. I also have no idea what colour eyes the two of them, but after (shamefully) googling their pictures, I wrote what I think I saw. If I'm wrong, feel free to correct me! Lastly, read, review and enjoy as per :)

"Stevie! STEVIE!" Stevie barely registered her name being called. The man released Stevie with a start and made off into the distance, hotly being chased by many uniformed men. Stevie felt claustrophobic as everyone surrounded her, their words becoming nothing more than a blur as the pain seared throughout her. Clutching the back of her head, Stevie closed her eyes and tried to fight back the tears as well as the pain.

"Gun, he had a gun. I felt it." Stevie croaked, "My phone. It's on my phone"

As the attention drew away from Stevie and attracted towards the uniformed officers who had managed to successfully arrest Stevie's attacker, Stevie took the opportunity to make her exit. The last thing she needed was a crowd of questions and too much fuss. Clutching the back of her head, Stevie quickly drove away, ignoring the throbbing pain in her head and the searing hotness from the friction burns around her neck.

"Where's DC Moss gone? Anyone?" Neil's voice sounded slightly alarmed as he scanned the surroundings. "Right, Nate, get onto Smithy. Tell him to find her and take her to hospital, okay?"

Back at home, Stevie attempted to wash her head, wash away the memories, the smell of his breath, the feel of his grubby fingers and jagged fingernails closing in on her neck. Climbing in the shower fully clothed, her nausea grew as she saw blood wash out from the back of her head. Closing her eyes to try and forget the pain and the humiliation, Stevie's tears were hidden by the water cascading over her face. After slowly pulling herself together, Stevie dried and changed and sat on her bed, feeling more alone than ever.

Smithy however was only just hearing the news and although he knew had it been anyone else's name he certainly wouldn't have reacted in the same way, it didn't stop him. He was a porfession through and through - in fact he prided himself on it - but something clicke within him, some ulterior feelings which overruled everything he was taught and trained to do. Driving back home, Smithy promptly got changed when a knock at his door halted him in his tracks. Advancing on the door in a rush, Smithy opened the door to let his visitor in.

"If you've got a parcel, then just leave it and I'll sign later, yeah? It's just my, er, friend, she needs some help." Smithy called down as he raced up the stairs, searching for his door keys.

"She's here," Stevie whispered softly, her eyes as red as the bloodstains on the back of her head. "Can I stay here tonight? I've brought my toothbrush."

Stevie's soft speech turned into a quiet, single laugh which quickly subsided into gentle sobs. Smithy descended the stairs, closed his front door and held Stevie in his arms, wrapping her tightly in his embrace and holding her close to his body.

"Neil's gonna want to know where you are, Stevie. He told me to take you to the hosp-" Stevie shook her head and pushed away against Smithy's chest. "Stevie, you can say you're not alright, you know? And I really think you should get that head seen to."

"In the morning," Stevie's eyes pleaded with Smithy and of course he gave in. There was never any doubt in either one of their minds that he wouldn't.

"Fine, in the morning." Smithy agreed, pulling Stevie back in for a hug. "Look, let's get you up to bed, eh?"

Stevie nodded and let herself be guided up the stairs. Smithy's hands felt warm and comforting against her skin and she felt a sudden urge to be close to someone, anyone. That was, until she saw the bedroom.

"One bed, eh?" Stevie's voice was hoarse but even at her lowest point, Stevie managed to find some humour at least. Whether this was purely her personality, or whether Smithy brought it out in her, she couldn't say. But what she did know, was that she was glad she had it. "It's going to be a bit intimate, Smithy."

"It's not like we haven't been here before," Smithy grinned, remembering their time undercover together. IT was hardly an effort, that part of the operation, the leisurely kisses and fondling in public. Flicking back the corner of the duvet, Smithy signalling for Stevie to climb in. "I'll be downstairs if you need me, right?"

Stevie nodded and watched as Smithy left the room, pulling the door just short of fully closed. Closing the curtains, Stevie heard Smithy on the phone to Neil, explaining the situation. If there was one man she could rely on, it was Smithy. Rummaging through his drawers for an old t-shirt she could wear to bed, Stevie, for the first time, felt eternally grateful to have Smithy as a friend. He'd saved her, in so many ways and so many times that she simply had no way of returning the favour. He was her saviour, yet she'd never tell him. They just didn't do that. It was friendship, it was platonic. Feelings were never discussed and never harboured on. They were there, naturally, but never acknowledged. They existed together, but seemingly destined to survive apart.

Climbing into bed, Stevie closed her eyes as flashes of her life ran across her eyes. The attacks, the blood, the voices, the terror. Sitting up with a start, Stevie realised she's slept for two hours already. Feeling across the bed to find it empty, Stevie wandered halfway down the stairs, wanting something to take her mind off it all.

"Smithy?"

"Kitchen," came the reply. "Give me two secs' and I'll be right with you."

" 'kay," Stevie's voice was little more than a whisper, carrying itself on the air. She traipsed back upstairs and sat atop the bed, legs crossed and eyes glazed.

"You called, milady?" Smithy grinned as he joined Stevie on the bed, causing a slight ripple on the mattress as his weight totalled hers. Stevie smiled back, her head tipped in such a way that Smithy saw a slight dampening around her eyes. At a loss of what to say, Smithy decided he'd avoid words all together (he'd only say the wrong thing), instead doing what came natural to him. He lifted the duvet beside him, signalling for Stevie to lie beneath. Joining her, they lay opposite one another, green eyes meeting blue. And as they lay, Smithy found his way to Stevie's hand and just held it tight within his own. In that one small action, he tried to convey to Stevie everything he wanted her to know: that he was there for her - always will be, that he understood what she was going through because he'd been there before, that he'd protect her and keep her safe, that he was the one she could rely on and that, ultimately, he was hers. Yes, there had been girls in his past, but as far as he was concerned, Stevie was his future - in whatever way she wished it to go. And as long as she knew that, Smithy was content enough.