A/N: Hazel – a big thank you for yet again taking the time to read through. And thanks to everyone reading and commenting. Real life is keeping me busy but I'm trying my best to keep up with the weekly updates…

CHAPTER 18

Hardy didn't stir until late the next morning. No nightmares, not after Pippa had already haunted him in the woods. He might have slept longer, if it wasn't for Tess angrily yelling at him.

"Alec! Wake up!"

He groaned, rolled over and hugged his pillow. "Leave me alone, Tess. I don't have to go to work. Just want to sleep." His whole body was aching from the prior day's misadventures.

She tossed something in his face.

"Oi, what'd you that for?" He plucked the newspaper off him and pulled his torso up against the head board.

"What did you tell that fucking journalist?" His eyes travelled from her angry scowl to the headlines of the morning paper. He squinted and barely was able to read the blaring letters of the main article's title.

'Questionable Leadership Of Police Investigation – Will The Sandbrook Girls Ever Find Justice?'

He sat up and patted around for his glasses. Tess threw them on the bed and he reluctantly put them on. First thing racking into focus was Karen White's smug smile in her byline photograph. He had no desire whatsoever to read what she had fabricated this time. Judging from Tess' piercing blue eyes, it had to be horrific.

He scanned over the atrocities she told about the case, the shoddy police work and her tirade about the poor parents suffering from the uncertainty of what happened to their precious child. Bile was rising in his throat but it wasn't until the last part that he had to suppress a gag.

'This so far unproductive investigation is led by Detective Inspector Alec Hardy (41). DI Hardy, a Glasgow native, is the father of a teenaged daughter and when questioned how this might influence his abilities to stay detached enough to head this case, his lack of an answer was more than telling.'

Hardy groaned. This bloody woman. Anxiously he continued reading, very much aware of Tess' impatient stare.

'A reputation of being reckless proceeds him and therefore it is not surprising that there have been questionable breaches of police procedure, such as a single police officer rescuing the body of Pippa Gillespie out of the River Sandbrook. DI Hardy does have a track record of solving the cases he is entrusted with and on first glance appears qualified to be SIO in such a delicate crime. But when looking closer into his past it becomes evident that this qualification comes at a price.'

Hardy's breath hitched and he shot a quick glance at his wife who was fuming. Reading on his worst fears were confirmed.

'Going back to Alec Hardy's early career as a member of the Glasgow Police Constabulary, the case of Gregory Carter stands out. Gregory Carter, 32 years old at the time, was the main suspect as the leader of a large drug cartel which Hardy, then a Detective Sergeant, was investigating. Carter was also implicated in the murder of his wife, Mary, a 28 year old Irish woman.'

Hardy was grasping the newspaper so hard that his knuckles turned white. His heart was fluttering in his chest and breathing became a chore. Tess had sat down on the bed next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to read this, Alec," she said gently. His head snapped up.

"And what is that going to change?" he growled, eyes dropping back to the spot where he had left off.

'Lack of clear evidence forced the police to let Carter go after the initial arrest for narcotics possession and distribution as well as racketeering. Shortly after he was released out of custody, Mary Carter was found dead secondary to an overdose of heroine. Presumably she was being used as a drug mule. Gregory Carter was accused of beating his wife and indirectly causing her death through trauma to the abdomen and the ingested plastic bags perforating due to the impact. Carter claimed that it was police brutality that led to the death of his wife. After a lengthy investigation the police amounted enough evidence to arrest Carter. However, things did not go as planned and Carter escaped the arrest. DS Hardy and his colleague and wife DC Teresa Henchard Hardy were pursuing the suspect. A rather dramatic and unorthodox chase ended on a boat on the River Clyde.'

Hardy was catapulted back to that fateful November morning. His chest tightened up and he slumped forward, a moan escaping his throat. The ground under him was rolling and nausea was building up in his stomach. He didn't dare closing his eyes, fearing to see Tess' blood spattered body in front of him, side by side with Brennan Carter's pale equally stained face. His hands were trembling and he dropped the paper, just like he had the gun that day. He bent down, fighting dizziness, and picked it up again. He forced himself to read on.

'Carter was able to capture DC Henchard Hardy, drug her and use her as hostage. In a desperate attempt to save his then pregnant wife, DS Alec Hardy shot Gregory Carter resulting in Carter being mortally wounded and plummeting into the river. The scene was witnessed by Carter's eight year old son Brennan who followed his father into the water trying to save his father's life. The boy was subsequently rescued by DS Hardy. The body of Gregory Carter was recovered from the river later on.'

Brennan's screams echoed through Hardy's mind as if it had been yesterday. As soon as Carter had fallen into the water, he caught Tess, cradling her blood spattered body in his arms. She was limp and breathing too slowly due to the drugs in her system. Then he heard the splash. He looked up and the boy was gone. He had followed his father into the river. A river that was treacherous and had taken the life of many. Hardy did not hesitate. Carefully, he placed Tess on the wooden planks, took off his coat, jacket and shoes while searching the murky water for the drowning boy. As soon as Hardy spotted him, he gathered all his courage and jumped into the ice cold stream.

The struggle to rescue Brennan had been just as desperate as when Hardy pulled out Pippa, and he had barely made it, dragging the kicking boy with him at all cost. As soon as they had reached the river bank, Brennan ran off and Hardy had no energy to follow him, his heart racing in his chest with the exertion. Knowing what he did now, it was probably a miracle he had survived. He shuddered, blinking a few times before he finished the article.

'The case was investigated by DPS and the then DS Hardy was found to have been acting within police standards. In fact he was commended for saving another police officer's life. Despite this decoration, it does illustrate DI Alec Hardy's tendencies to be affected by personal issues and a certain reckless disregard for regular police procedures. Hence, we question the qualification of DI Hardy to objectively and successfully lead this current investigation of the murder of the Sandbrook girls.'

The paper slipped out of his hand and sailed to the ground. Hardy stared ahead, breathing heavily. His heart was pounding in his chest.

"Alec, there was nothing else you could have done," Tess breathed into his ear, arm wrapped around his shoulder. "He was going to kill me and you know that. You had to do what you hadto."

He shook his head and buried his face in his hands. His eyes were stinging with unshed tears and he folded in on himself, hugging his abdomen.

"How will I ever know? The boy was eight, Tess. Just a kid and I shot his father right in front of him. And now everyone's going to know about it. Daisy is going to know!" he exclaimed, voice breaking. Tess didn't have anything to say. She tightened her grip around his shoulders and they sat in silence, both caught up in their own thoughts. Eventually she rose and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Take your time. I have to go to the station. Daisy should be up soon. Maybe you two could go out for breakfast? Spend some time together," Tess urged him.

He nodded, his mouth slightly open. When she was gone, he searched through his drawer for his pills. If his heart didn't calm down soon, there was no way he would be able to go out with Daisy. He laid back on the bed and curled around his pillow. Finally the tears were falling and he hid his sobs under the soft cushion until only emptiness was left inside.

Daisy wasn't the quietest teenager, especially not in the mornings. He listened to her thudding from her room to the bathroom and back, doors being closed noisily. She was humming a song he didn't recognize. Eventually she pounded down the stairs. He dragged himself up and out of bed. The newspaper was lying on the floor. He stared at it for a while until he picked it up and crumpled it between his two hands, groaning angrily.

Karen White had done what she said she would. She didn't write anything about the Ashworths, no, but she went all out on his past. Everyone, including his daughter, was going to know about the Carter case. But not only that. Tess and he had made such an effort ever since that day to keep their marriage quiet on the job out of fear something similar would happen. And now it was plastered all over the damned newspaper that she was his wife and that he had taken a life to save hers.

It was irrelevant if Carter had been a crazy, violent and dangerous individual who killed his own wife and most likely would never have been apprehended without a fight. All that mattered was that he as the police officer in charge that day had shot a man in front of his child. For what appeared to be his personal gain. Hardy knew that this wasn't what happened but to the outsider it could easily seem that way. It had back then and the fall out had not been pretty. It was one of the reasons why Tess and he had eventually left Glasgow because whenever anything didn't go smoothly the case was dragged out again. He had felt very fortunate that the South Mercia Police Constabulary had agreed to keep the case under seal and only the Chief of Police and his direct superior, Baxter, would know about it. Finally it had stopped following him around until this day.

He padded into the bathroom. When he caught his reflection in the mirror, he found himself yet again staring at it. The man looking back at him wasn't a happy one. His face and hair was crusty from the mud and dirt he hadn't washed off last night. His freckles stood out more on his pale skin and he sure didn't look like he had slept the whole night. He eyed the scales wondering if he should check if he lost more weight but decided against it. He didn't really need to. One glance at his gaunt cheeks was enough. After a quick shower, he got dressed, no tie, just slacks and a button down shirt. Daisy met him with a cup of tea in the kitchen, handing it to him with a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Ach Dad, you didn't shave. Again. What's with the scruffy look these days?" She was teasing him but not without an underlying real question.

He shrugged. "Dunno, didn't feel like doing it this morning." He stretched his stiff shoulders, flinching with the achiness. Which earned him another frown from Daisy.

"You didn't get hurt in the car yesterday, did you?"

He shot her a sideways glance and shook his head.

"You came home really late. Mum seemed worried. Everything okay? Your car isn't in the driveway."

Bollocks. Sometimes he really wished she wasn't the child of two detectives. How was he going to explain that?

"Erm… it felt a little off, driving it after what happened. Took it to the shop, just to make sure nothing's wrong with it." He hoped that would convince her. Her eyes narrowed but she was willing to buy it.

"Do you… do you wanna go out for breakfast, darlin'?" Maybe focusing her attention on something else would get her off his back.

Her face lit up and she smiled broadly. She hopped off her chair. "Really? You have time?"

"Don't have to go in today or tomorrow." He smiled back at her, joining in on her excitement. He took a mental note to thank Baxter for making him stay home.

"Oh, Dad. I'd love to. We haven't done that in such a long time." She threw herself at him and snuggled against his chest. Hardy folded his long arms around her and placed a gentle kiss on her head.

"I know. 'M sorry for that," he mumbled into her hair. She looked up and smiled the smile that was solely his. He shoved away the eerie memory from the day before when he collapsed in the woods.

"It's all right, Dad. I get it. I'm just happy that we can do this today."

He pulled her down on a chair and sat next to her. "Daisy, before we leave, I have to tell you something." He would have never considered talking to his thirteen year old daughter about that day before she was even born but now he was forced to.

"Dad, you're scaring me. Your face is all scowly." Daisy was shifting in her chair.

"Don't be scared, darlin'." He tried to relax his features and took in a deep breath. When he dragged his hands over his cheeks, Daisy huffed.

"Are you gonna tell me or what? This isn't any fun."

"No, darlin'. It isn't," he sighed and finally gave in. "The newspaper wrote something about your mother and me that happened before you were born and I want you to hear it from me first before you read it or your friends tell you." There was curiosity in her expression but he knew her too well to not see the anxiety behind it.

"When I was a young police officer in Glasgow, we were in the process of arresting a drug dealer. He was a very dangerous man. From what we could tell, he had injured his wife so badly that she had died and he had caused harm to a lot of other people as well." He carefully observed how she took in the information. The curiosity was still there, but she was fidgeting with her skirt. He took one of her hands and rubbed her palm. A sad smile curled around his lips.

"Your mother and I were chasing him down – "

"Like in the movies?" she interrupted incredulously.

Hardy let out a small chuckle and squeezed her hand. "Aye, like in the movies. We ended up on a boat, the boat the guy lived on." He took in a deep breath and chewed on his lip for a moment. "He took your mother hostage, Daisy." He paused to let that sink in. Her face was blank but her fingers were digging into his hand. He moved a bit closer.

When he didn't continue she frowned. "And? What happened then?"

"Daisy, I shot the man." Her head snapped up and her eyes that were so much like his widened.

"You killed someone?" she whispered.

"Yes, darlin', I did," he admitted quietly. Her lips were quivering and tears welled up.

"Did you do it to save Mum's life?" Her voice broke. He stood and wrapped her in his arms again. He wished he could make this in any way easier, but there was no sugar coating the truth.

"Aye. And yours," he breathed into her hair. And before she could ask, he explained, "Your mother was pregnant at the time." She gasped and he hugged her more tightly. He still hadn't told her about the boy. He let her out of the embrace and held her at arm's length. His gaze rested on her, taking in her shocked expression. She was avoiding his eyes.

"Daisy, please look at me. There's one more thing to the story." Fear was written all over her face. It hurt him to see her like that and if Karen White had been present that very moment, God knew what he would have done to her.

"The man's little boy was there. He saw everything, Daisy. His father had told him that it was your mother and me who were responsible for the death of his mother. He saw me kill his father and when his father fell into the river, he went after him."

"Did he die as well?" she asked, voice toneless now. Her tears had stopped and her face had hardened.

"No. I followed him into the water and pulled him out." His voice was as toneless as hers. He felt weak and slumped down on the chair. His vision blurred with his own tears that he was desperately trying to hold back, not wanting to cry in front of her again. He sucked in a few breaths and barely managed to pull himself together.

Her hand came to rest on his back. "Dad, that's so awful. The poor boy. Do you know what happened to him?"

Hardy nodded. "He went into foster care and then someone adopted him. I lost track after that. They kept it confidential and I didn't want to dig. Thought I had done enough damage already."

"Oh, Dad. It wasn't your fault that his father acted like that. He might have killed Mum… and me," she added with a quiver in her voice. This time it was her who pulled him into a hug. They were silent for a bit until Daisy let go of him. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, just like she used to do when she was little, and smiled.

"So, are we going for breakfast now or what? I'm starving." He stared at her, perplexed by how quickly she seemed to have regained composure. "Don't look at me like that, Dad. Do you want me to be gloomy for the rest of the day, when we finally have a chance to spend time together? Not happening. So you better get your shit together." She nudged him in the side.

"Oi, language, young lady," he scolded her meekly.

She grinned and bounced into the hallway, getting her jacket and shoes. "Are you coming or what?" she hollered.

With a smile, he picked himself up. He considered himself lucky to have this wonderful child who was always able to brighten his days. He sneaked in his morning pills and ignored the fact that soon he'd have to have another difficult conversation with her.

Hardy took her to the little coffee shop with the back yard. It was one of her favorite places and they could walk there. The sun was shining, warming up his stiff body. The exertion from the prior day had left him worn out and achy. Moving around seemed like a good way to get rid of it. Daisy was walking at a fast pace and he was trailing behind. The realization that he struggled with keeping up hit him hard but he was able to hide his breathlessness. Or at least he thought so.

Daisy was a few steps ahead of him, when she turned around and grinned. "Either you're getting old or you're really out of shape. Look at you, grandpa. No more Hollywood style chasing down of bad guys if you're that winded just walking to the coffee shop."

"Oi, stop it. No respect for your father," he grumbled back at her. He couldn't think of a witty comeback, being too distracted by the fact that she was right. If his health didn't improve, his job security was more than questionable.

They reached the coffee shop. It was a small place, filled with the intoxicating smell of freshly ground beans and steamed milk. He closed his eyes for a moment, drinking in the scent and feeling pity for himself that he couldn't have any of it. Luckily for him and his caffeine deprived mind, they found a spot in the shady back yard. She had picked her favorite table under the vines and didn't waste any time grabbing the menu. He always got the same thing, so there wasn't any need for him to look. Or maybe he should. His usual choice of scrambled eggs with sausage and buttered toast didn't seem quite as heart healthy as it could be. He suppressed a sigh and reached for the menu. Daisy looked up, surprised, but didn't say anything. When she saw his frown growing bigger while he was studying such exciting choices as low fat yoghurt with fresh organic fruit and granola or some hideous concoction called tofu scramble with your choice of kale, spinach or other seasonal local vegetables, she chuckled.

"Dad, why are you even looking at that and torturing yourself? You always get the same stuff anyway," she remarked, still grinning from one ear to the other.

"Dunno. Thought I could try something different for a change. Maybe something more… healthy," he mumbled. His ears were burning. Why was he feeling so embarrassed about this?

"You, something healthy? I've never seen you eat anything different here other than scrambled eggs with some greasy meat and toast soaked in butter. Beats me how you don't ever seem to gain any weight," she teased.

Hardy rolled his eyes at her. "As you pointed out, darlin', I'm not getting younger, so maybe it's time to pay attention to what I put into this old and decrepit body." He just about managed to make it sound light hearted enough.

She gave him a look he couldn't quite place. When she continued her voice was much more somber. "I'm glad you're eating at all, Dad. You look awfully skinny these days and I don't like it."

Her mouth was pulled into a pout and she didn't look at him. It hurt to see her so worried about him. His stomach clenched up knowing that he had to tell her soon how decrepit his body really was. It took away whatever appetite he had left, already being nauseated by his medications. When the waitress came he settled for the least offensive food, the yoghurt, and some herbal tea. The waitress had looked at him as if he had committed a sin for even considering decaf black tea.

When she was gone, Daisy burst out into laughter. "Wow, Dad, I think you insulted her British soul with your request for decaf tea. At least you didn't ask for decaf coffee. I think she would have passed out."

He glared at her, but in the end, his lips curled up to a smile. "You know, the stuff isn't so bad after all, you get used to it. Now, not drinking coffee…," he sighed. "That's a different story."

She gave him another one of those looks he couldn't read. It was making him nervous but there was no way he would tell her before he had spoken to her mother. He settled for changing the topic.

"So, how was school this week?"

"Dad, seriously? You really need to come up with a better question when you don't want to talk about something," she sighed and shook her head.

"'S not why I asked. I really do want to know, 'cause I care about what's going on with you." He did, even if she was right and this was his standard way of redirecting a conversation with her. He might have to come up with something new.

"Fine. It was pretty sucky as usual. At least Allison and her stupid fan club left me alone." She looked at his blank expression and sighed in exasperation. "Why am I even telling you these things, you don't even remember who Allison is."

Hardy tried to keep face. He had no recollection of the name, not surprisingly so. But he had an idea who the girl was. Sometimes being a detective came in handy after all. "I don't think you ever mentioned her. Is she the girl who didn't want to come to your party?" Judging from her scowl, he was right. "I'm sorry darlin' that she's bothering you. I could tell you to ignore her but I know that's not helpful." He took her hand and made sure to find her eyes.

"Look, I saw you with your friends at the party and I see you with them at school all the time. They like you. And even if the girl that currently is perceived as popular has a gripe with you, you'll always have your friends to rely on. This girl Allison should not upset you, she should make you sad. Because the only way she can be happy is to talk down on other people and make them feel bad. There's a good chance that her friends are not true because sooner or later there will be a new popular girl and everyone will forget about Allison and so will her so-called friends. Your friends, however, put their money together to get you something that you really like. That's very thoughtful and means much more than the approval of someone who doesn't care about anyone but themselves."

Daisy's lips were pressed together and she was drawing circles on the table with her index finger.

"It's all right. You don't have to say anything, just think about it." He tucked a lock behind her ear and rubbed away a stray tear with his thumb. He squeezed the hand he was still holding and then let go, giving her some space.

The waitress brought their beverages and they both held onto to their cups in silence. When the food came, Daisy finally spoke.

"Thanks, Dad." She shot him a quick glance and then dug into her French toast. He hid a smile and was happy that it seemed he could still be a part of her life.

He eyed the yoghurt, poked at the granola with his spoon and opted for fishing out the blueberries first.

"Ach, Dad. You're worse than a toddler. Do you want me to arrange the fruit in a smiley face pattern? Maybe then you'll eat it." The mischievous grin was back.

"No respect," he muttered under his breath and reluctantly ate some of his food that wasn't blue. It was as awful as he had feared.

"Here, take the maple syrup. I know you've got a sweet tooth. It's going to make it much better." She pushed her little jar with the brown gooey liquid over to his side.

"Maple syrup? Seriously?" He didn't quite believe her. When he tried it, he didn't let on that indeed it was tastier.

"Told you so." His gaze snapped up. She was grinning from one ear to the other and he blushed, feeling utterly outsmarted by his thirteen year old daughter.

They ate in amicable silence. Hardy was finally relaxing and some of the weight of the past week slipped away. His heart had been behaving the whole morning and he was grateful for that. He felt hopeful for the first time in days that he might be able to get a handle on his health.

"So, Cory said that 'The Avengers' was real fun. It just came out this week. Maybe we could go see it this weekend as you said you don't have to work?" she asked, not hiding the excitement.

"Does it have Thor in it?" The question had slipped his tongue before he could think about it. His attempt at an innocent expression didn't fool Daisy.

"Ach, Dad. I really don't get why you're so into that character."

"I'm not 'into' Thor, I –"

"Oh, come on. You made me watch that stupid movie three times while pointing out how it really wasn't that bad and in fact rather 'entertaining'. You even made a comment about Loki's coat of all things." She was egging him on and he knew it.

"I did no such thing. It was a reflection on the overall production design." His excuse was pathetic and she rewarded him with rolling her eyes at him. A thought caught on. "Wait, is Loki in it too?" He cringed at how excited he sounded. She threw her napkin at him.

"You're unbelievable. And yes, he is." They both laughed. And for a moment he forgot all the heartache and was simply happy.

On their walk home Daisy tucked her arm under his, seeking closeness like she hadn't in a while. Hardy smiled and the warmth he felt wasn't only from the beautiful sunshine. He had missed these moments with her. Guilt was creeping in and threatened to cloud his feelings but he managed to ignore it.

"You never listened to the band," Daisy complained.

"What band?" He didn't quite follow her.

"The band I have tickets to see." She pulled her arm away and turned around, skipping backwards. "You said you would listen, but then we almost had that accident and you never did."

He sighed. "Fine. I'll check it out. When we get home."

"I could take Cory with me," she suggested with a certain challenge in her voice.

"What?" His voice pitch shifted and he sternly shook his head. "No, absolutely not."

"Why not, Dad? He's going to be sixteen by then and he'll be able to drive us there," she argued.

His mouth gaped open. Surely there must be something he was missing here? Since when was Daisy that close to his best friend Duncan's oldest son? They spent time at the wedding together but they hadn't seen each other since then. Or had they? All of a sudden a hot knot clenched up his stomach. The two teenagers had gone for a walk all alone, at night. On the castle grounds. Which was a rather romantic setting, come to think of it. And Daisy was a beautiful girl. And Hardy wasn't that old yet that he had forgotten how it was to be a teenaged boy.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Bollocks, he should have known. The hot knot in his stomach erupted and a wave of jealousy washed over him, leaving his face burning and his paternal instincts running rampant.

"Daisy, is there something you would like to tell me? About Cory maybe?" His voice was low and neutral, just like it would have been in the interrogation room. He hated himself for that but he also couldn't help himself. Her face turned bright red. Somewhere inside him, he was proud of her that she held his piercing gaze without even blinking.

"We're friends," she stated hesitantly.

"And?"

Please don't let there be an 'and', he prayed to any random deity that would listen to him. Although, if she did have a boyfriend – Hardy's feeble heart skipped a few random beats and he mentally choked on the word – then Cory wouldn't be the worst. Possibly. Bollocks.

"Ach, Dad. Nothing 'and'. We're just friends," she said, but not without pulling her mouth into a pout.

Before he could hold back, he blurted out, "Would you want it to be more than just friends?"

They both stared at each other. Then after what seemed an eternity, she nodded once. He sucked in some air through his nose and ran his fingers through his hair. He had no idea what to do with this confession and he had never felt as awkward around her. If only her mother was here right now, she would know what to do.

"So… you like him then?" Again she nodded once. He swore he wanted to be supportive but his paternal overprotectiveness got the better of him and his next question came out all wrong. "Did you guys… do things at the wedding?" It sounded dumb even to him.

"God, Dad, you're a bloody idiot. Do you really interrogate people for a living?" she spat at him, spun around on her heels and stormed off.

"Daisy, wait!" he called after her. His long strides let him catch up quickly and at least this time his heart didn't betray him. He caught her arm and gently turned her to face him. "'M sorry, darlin'. That was a rather stupid question. It's just…," he trailed off. How could he explain to her how painful and wonderful at the same time it was to see her grow up?

"You're not jealous, are you?" she asked and when she saw his scrunched up face, she sniggered. "You are!"

"No, I'm not," he mumbled, intently studying the sidewalk patterns left by old chewing gum. They were rather intriguing, and anything beat looking her in the eye right then. She laughed out loud and threw her arms around his neck. Her head came to rest against his chest and he folded her arms around her.

"Silly Dad. No guy will ever take your spot in my heart," she muffled into his shirt. "Although, Cory is a bit of a competition."

"Oi, I should –"

A quick succession of camera flashes made Hardy jerk up his head. As soon as he spotted the group of journalists lingering at the cross roads that would take them to their house, he pushed Daisy behind his back. They were closing in on their prey.

"Dad, what are you doing?" Daisy was trying to wiggle herself out of his tight grasp. "Ouch, you're hurting me." He didn't let go. There was no way these paparazzi would get a picture of his daughter.

"Daisy, please listen and don't talk," he ordered her, very calmly, keeping his voice low so that they wouldn't hear him. "I want you to go back where we came from and go to your friend Molly's house."

More flashes lit up in front of them. Hardy carefully placed himself between the cameras and Daisy.

"DI Hardy… DI Hardy…," several of them shouted while they were running down the street. They didn't have much time to escape.

He turned around and faced Daisy who stared at him with wide eyes. "Do you have your phone?" She nodded, keeping quiet as he instructed her. "When you get to Molly's house, call your mother and tell her what happened. Have her pick you up, she's at work."

"But, Dad, what about you?" Her voice was trembling.

He kissed her hair quickly. "Don't worry about me, I'll deal with them." He took off his coat and wrapped it around her hair and shoulders. Then he turned her around. "Run!" He nudged her gently and she broke into a fast jog, hiding herself under his coat. He spun around to face the vultures.

A/N: Much to my delight I discovered that "The Avengers" actually did open that particular week in April of 2012 in the UK. And I plead very much guilty that Alec Hardy fangirling over Thor might be a wee bit OOC (he might have been influenced by this author's guilty pleasures), but then my version of Alec does like 80's action movies. So being a Marvel fan doesn't seem too farfetched. I hope for forgiveness for this artistic license. I promise to make up for it with some more hole poking in Alec's soul soon [it appears I have a reputation to uphold ;-)]