The villa booked for the shoot was luxurious, Si could hear the laughter of the models as they relaxed by the pool. He was still sorting through the several hundred images taken over the four separate shoots today in various locations on this tropical paradise. All for some adverts for beachwear. He did not relax when working, until everything was in the bag. Two more long days and one night shoot until he could drink and party. He kept his contact home to texts and phone calls when he was falling into bed at 1-2AM local time. Myra, his lighting assistant, coughed softly to gain his attention.

Si scowled at the disruption and held up his finger as he saved the images to backup first.

"Sorry, Si. There's a guy from the British Embassy here. Says its urgent,"

….

Si arrived back from the Caribbean via his connection in New York, which had turned out to be the longest journey of his life. London Heathrow Terminal Three Arrivals was oddly welcoming to this seasoned traveller. Now, the tedium of getting his luggage, passport control, clearing customs and then the long taxi ride to Wandsworth. He had exited the plane at the gate when he switched on his phone to call Sabina.

The two stewards waving off the passengers heard the snippets of fraught conversation.

"How is he? Still in ICU?"

"A broken neck! Is he paralysed?"

"That at least is good news. So, his head injury is OK, no bleeding on the brain?"

"You have not told me about his heart? You told me the surgery went OK in New York."

"Right, so how long a convalescence?"

"Err.. I'll be at St. George's by four. Meet you there. Give Alex a kiss from me. I can't thank you and Sorsha enough. You've both been brilliant. Alex is lucky to have such wonderful sisters."

The man stood forlorn and paused for three deep breaths, then strode at full marching pace to the exit.

…

Three weeks in hospital. He was still in constant pain and practically immobile, encased in a stiff neck brace and his left leg now in a brace encasing his foot ankle and lower leg. No crutches yet as he was being wheeled out.

The aches and pains seemed to radiate up his leg and down his spine. He had been oh so very lucky, too lucky. Alex Rider was now way past nine lives. As the car pulled onto Bolingbroke Grove, Alex gripped his lover's hand. Home, he was going home. To wash the smell of hospital off his skin. To let Si wash his hair and shave him. His main plan was then to smell of Si, sex was going to be a challenge, but not impossible. He would beg for cock like the slut he was. God, had he ever been this horny in his life? Not even painkillers and exhaustion were wilting his erection. Two flights of stairs to their bedroom might be the undoing of him, truth be told. Good things come to those who wait and he could be patient. Four long horrible weeks since the last time they had laid together.

In the hall, it was a pile of post and bills and the sight of the answer machine with 46 messages that caught the eye of the home comer. The obvious signs of their planned civil ceremony and work commitments for the photographer, but most were written acceptances of invitations sent out by Alex mere days before his last brush with death.

Si tried to hurry him past the evidence their lives had been on hold for weeks "Don't worry about that. Sorcha has everything sorted as much as it can be. It's all still on, even the honeymoon. I checked with the consultants before you were discharged, the insurance company and the airline. The flight should be fine, especially in Business Class. Room to stretch out even with your leg and neck brace."

Alex tried not to think of the fact he could no longer swim, dive or surf; not with the months of rehabilitation needed considering his damaged artery and metalwork in his neck and leg. First, he had to negotiate getting upstairs. Either on his bum or hopping on his good leg while gripping the hand rail. All things considered it would be less jarring one step at a time going backwards sat down.

In the en-suite, a tired and no longer sweaty invalid leaned over the edge of the bath as warm water wet his scalp and his wonderful carer washed his blond hair after sponging his body clean. He was wrapped in a soft bath sheet, which smelt of their detergent. Last would be the shave, then Alex would feel more like himself.

Naked on clean cotton sheets, Si covered him with the duvet. "Have a nap, angel. You can barely keep your eyes open." With a kiss, Alex did exactly as he was told.

It was still light when he woke and Si was sat on the armchair by the window, the one normally covered in clothes, on his laptop catching up on work. Alex managed to prop himself up by pulling himself up using the headboard. Then, he took a long drink from the bottle of water on the bedside table.

"Si, can I have the crutches, I need a pee." That had been the first hurdle in hospital, progressing from catheter, to urinating in a bottle, to the hobbling across the ward to the facilities, first helped by staff then on his own.

It still felt like he was enduring a marathon for such a simple thing. When he returned, he sat on the bed and pulled out the lube from the drawer. "I have no idea how to manage this, we can try on my side or on my stomach, but you sir are going to roger me good and proper."

…..

Si was stood in the kitchen, heating shop bought Keralan Chicken Soup and warming through a packet flat breads. He hated cooking with a passion, but could just about manage this. He had missed home cooked food and had subsisted on takeaways and sandwiches after returning from the States. He had managed the several shoots lodged in his diary, as Alex had insisted he not dump any clients as he had been out of ICU and not needing Si by his side at for the entirety of allotted visiting hours.

In the past three weeks, Si had met most of Alex's friends, from school friends including a few from the Comprehensive School Alex despised after being bullied, a multitude of others who had been homeless or in squats with him, some gruff soldiers, several diplomats and spooks from MI6.

The doorbell rang, Si was not expecting guests, most happy for their lives returning to normal after weeks gracing the halls of the large teaching hospital in Tooting. The photographer was only wearing a loose pair of jogging bottoms but could not summon up the effort to pull on a top to be decent. He switched off the oven and made his way up to the ground floor.

Tom Harris was stood with a bag of grapes having already missed Alex at St. George's. The ex-soldier had seen plenty of half naked blokes during his years in the British Army, but the old guy who opened the door had hickeys on his neck, bed head and reeked of sex. Alex's very ex-best friend was at a loss for words.

"Yes? I take it from your gift, you are here to see Alex? He's upstairs in bed waiting for his supper."

"I'm Tom… we used to be friends… played football and such when we were kids and lost touch. We met again last year after I was invalided out of the paras."

Si was glad he had not invited the stranger in as he remembered the bitterness of Alex's description of this one time friend and their last interaction. "Ahh.. I remember… you were less than encouraging about Alex's life choices. He's still queer, happily so. Your invitation to our civil ceremony was returned unopened. Why the change of heart?"

"I heard from Jerry about the accident. I wanted to see he was OK and no hard feelings. It just, well he was an easy target when I was really low. I don't expect we'll be best buds again. Well, we have nothing in common really, not anymore. I can come back if its inconvenient."

Si relented as this fellow soldier seemed honest and open under his obvious embarrassment. "Follow me, you have five minutes and no upsetting him."

…

Alex, in his post coital state, was truly content. he was completely there and felt so right. Even after the clean up, he could smell the evidence of their love making. In reality, the civil ceremony was nothing more than an official stamp of approval on a confirmed truth, he was here for as long as Si needed or wanted him. He glanced at the TV, football was on, but muted. Alex picked up his copy of Lonely Planet Australia, but only looked at the pictures. It would definitely be a more sedate trip than he had anticipated, but the thought of spending hours in bed was not an unpleasant one.

Si stood in the doorway and smiled, before entering and straightening the duvet to cover Alex's lower half. "An unexpected guest, beautiful. I'll leave you two to talk. Feel free to chuck him out if he annoys you."

Alex stared at Tom in a proper Mexican Standoff before shrugging as much as the constricting hardware would allow. "So, got over being a homophobic arsehole?"

Tom frowned. "In denial, it happens. I had no clue you were a bit of a fairy."

The invalid laughed "I take it up the arse, Tom. I'm a lot of a fairy. In fact, I was the one in complete denial. Shit I've had loads of girlfriends but none of them are a patch on Si. He is fucking amazing and amazing at fucking." He could see that was one subject Tom wanted to avoid, but here in the bedroom shared by Alex and Si it was unavoidable. "You working?"

"Yeah, part time charity fund raising bag. Your chest? They opened you up again?"

"My artery was leaking after my spill of the roof. Went straight into emergency surgery. Sorted my ankle, neck and head later. Nearly died in the operating theatre, they had to replace my blood volume almost completely, which was freaky when Sab told me."

"Sabina Pleasure?"

"Yeah, she's my best man. Sorcha is my matron of honour. Both complete Fag hags." Alex then decided that he and his one time fried, were just that; in the past. "Its nice of you to check up on me, but Jerry has been in contact regularly. You can get updates from him. I'm on the mend. Civil Ceremony is going ahead only with crutches and possibly in a kilt rather than a suit, considering my leg. Si will be blinged up with his medals. He wants to make a statement. I… won't be. Americans gave me a couple of intelligence stars, got similar ones from the French, Indians and the Russians as well. They all clash horribly. The Russian one is encrusted with diamonds. Way too ostentatious."

"Well, I guess I should be off." No goodbyes or farewells as Tom Harris went back to his chosen life leaving his past where it should be, in that other country.