Thanks to Jess for your reviews, they always make me smile! Sorry this has taken so long to get up, but I decided to make some changes to this chapter to honour the character of Gina, after hearing the sad news of actress Roberta Taylor's passing. May Gina Gold forever rule over The Bill Fanfiction stories!

"All units! Go, go, go! Two have fallen from the roof, repeat, two have fallen from the roof!"

At Okaro's barked order, the police ran up the stairwell towards the frenzied screaming; even if it hadn't been for the order, they didn't need telling twice.

"No! Kirsty! No!"

Andrea ran blindly to the edge, to where she'd seen Kirsty and Kit disappear. Maybe they were still holding on somewhere, she could reach over, help pull them back…

"No! Andrea, no!"

Hands grabbed her and she struggled to no avail as figures ran past her to look over the edge.

"Let me go, I can help!"

"Andrea, you can't!" Gina Gold said, pulling her back. "It's too late!"

"No!"

The word was half moan, half howl, and she sank to the floor in Gina's arms, sobbing. The Inspector put her arms around her, feeling the tears falling onto her shirt sleeve. It was an extraordinary sight to any of the officers; her giving anyone a hug like that, but one glare from her dared any of them to make one comment. She looked towards the edge, where Sam and Phil were looking over. Sam looked back and shook her head, looking as if she was about to be sick.

"Andrea?"

"She's okay Smithy," Gina said, her warning look the only thing stopping him from wrenching her from her arms to his. "You're okay."

"Kirsty…" she said, hyperventilating. "She was trying to stop him."

"It's okay, you don't have to do this now," she said. "We should probably get you straight back to the ward. Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head and grimaced, the action hurting her. She said; "I fell, though. Hit my head."

Angus, who'd been staring at the edge with a fury on his face Smithy couldn't quite interpret, snapped his attention back to Andrea at those words, going straight into doctor mode.

"Inspector Gold's right," he said. "We need to get you straight back for treatment."

He bent down and lifted Andrea into his arms, supporting her head on his shoulder. Angus gave the roof's edge another angry glance, then walked back towards the stairs without another word. Gina sighed and got to her feet.

"It's not the justice I wanted either, but…"

Smithy nodded; Gina didn't have to finish her sentence. Nobody would, in truth, rather see a criminal dead, at least not right away. Find them, charge them, throw them in jail and then let them face evil like themselves every day. Maybe then, they could die. Kit, though…Smithy's fists clenched. Gina put a hand on his shoulder.

"Go with Angus, Smithy. I promise I'll come and update you as soon as I know more."

Andrea had been taken straight for another CT scan, Nick Jordan concerned about her worsening symptoms and second blow to her head. Someone had come to update them that the scan had shown what he had suspected; the blood was pushing on her brain and without prompt treatment, could be fatal, so the decision had been made to take Andrea straight to theatre to perform a craniotomy. The nurse had left without further explanation, so Angus had explained; part of the bone of her skull would be removed, so the haematoma could be suctioned out, then the skull replaced with metal screws.

"Will she be okay?" Smithy said worriedly.

Angus shrugged, but in more a resigned way than an uncaring one. He said; "we'll have to see. I'm sure she'll be fine. Many people make a full recovery, it just takes some time. She'll need looking after. They'll likely keep her in for a while."

"I'll look after her," Smithy vowed, then sank into the seat beside Angus. "Angus, I'm sorry, I haven't had the chance to arrange you seeing Bruce…"

"It doesn't matter," Angus said. "Not now. I mean, I still want to see him, of course I do, but…I wanted to tell him. That I'd get the scumbag who did this to him, that you'd see him thrown in jail where he belongs."

"He's still paid the price, Angus. I know we didn't want it this way…"

"No. And you know the worst thing? I wanted to do it myself. And now I can't."

"If it makes you feel any better, so did I," said Smithy. "You wouldn't know, probably, but I lost someone I loved last year. She was shot dead by a sniper. And when we finally caught the scumbag who did it…scarily similar thing happened, if you'd believe it. He fell from a balcony. And I didn't even get the pleasure of being the one to push him."

Footsteps approached and both men got to their feet as Gina approached. She waved a weary hand at them and sat down herself.

"Where's Andrea?"

"Theatre," Smithy said, chewing his lip. "The injury's worse, they needed to treat it before it did some real damage."

"And I'm sure they will do all they can to get her through it," she said. "Kirsty was pronounced dead at the scene. Severe head trauma; there was nothing they could do."

There was silence for a moment and Gina was sure they were all thinking the same thing; no matter what Kirsty had done, despite everything they'd heard about her before the fatal fall, Andrea would feel her loss greatly, and not just her. She had a young son who now had to grow up without her, parents who had to face what none should; outliving their youngest child and siblings who were now one less.

"She'll struggle," Gina said. "I'm sure she will. With reconciling the person she thought Kirsty was with…well, whoever she really was. And no matter what we all think, Kirsty was also young and dumb at the time. I'm sure she never expected this to blow up either."

"We all do stupid things when we're young," Angus said. "And what about Kit?"

Gina didn't say anything and both men stared at her.

"Gina?" Smithy said. "Is he still alive?"

"Somehow, yes," she said. "According to one of the witnesses, he hit one of the balconies, it broke his fall. He's very seriously injured and at the moment, still unconscious. It's very much touch and go."

"What the hell is he, Rasputin?" Angus said, incredulous.

"Well, if he is, Mr Malcolm, you'd better get me the cyanide," Gina said, and got heavily to her feet. "Look, I'd better get back to the team. Keep me updated."

She walked away, her shoulders slumped. Angus blinked and turned to Smithy.

"Did she really just say that?"

Smithy shrugged and said; "she says it as it is."

"I like it," Angus said, and sat back. "I know what I just said, Smithy, but if I could have picked one of them to survive that…"

"I know. It wouldn't have been him."

Waiting was horrible, Smithy though. He hated it. And silence. The protest now had been gotten under control, the only reminders that it had happened was the mess around them, the overturned chairs, medical equipment everywhere and broken glass all over the floor. Angus rubbed his face and sat back.

"What was it all about anyway? This protest?"

"No idea," Smithy said. "Though it was definitely a factor in him escaping, so anyone behind it is going to be in some serious trouble,"

"Good," Angus said. "Look, this is probably going to be hours. Why don't we get out of here, get a coffee?"

"I don't know…"

"Come on, they've got our numbers. We don't even have to go far, but I don't think sitting around here will do either of us any good."

"Is that what you say to your patients?"

"Is it that obvious?" Angus said with a laugh. "I always thought it was just talk, something we said to get them out of our way for a few hours. Not anymore, not now I know what it's like to wait like this."

Angus was right, it really was painful to wait, and it struck Smithy that despite his assurance that Andrea would be okay, he was having doubts. Reluctantly, Smithy got to his feet and the two left the waiting area.

"Probably better that we leave for a bit anyway," he said to Angus as the two descended the staircase. "I get the feeling you and I would be tempted to pay a visit elsewhere if we stay."

"Read my mind," Angus said. "I'm glad you said it, not me."

"Even we police are tempted by the dark side sometimes," he said. "Will she be awake, right after?"

"Unlikely. They'll keep her sedated, to protect her brain. Just a precaution," he said, catching Smithy's alarmed look. "I'm sure all the neurosurgeons are brilliant, but it is a major surgery and not without risks. They'll want to give her the best chance at recovery. It'll be for the best, anyway. Instead of waking up right now to…this. That won't help."

"No," Smithy said. "Of course not."

Angus clapped a hand on Smithy's shoulder. "I hope he lives. I want to sit through a trial. I want to see that smirk wiped off his face when he's thrown in jail where he belongs. Shame the UK doesn't still extradite criminals to Australia."

"Wasn't it supposed to be pretty cosy?"

"Wouldn't be if I ruled it," Angus said and gave him a twisted smile. "Probably why they'll never let me."

Smithy laughed, despite his worry. He liked this man a lot and would truly be sorry to see him go, but knew he had a family to go home to.

"Would you ever come back?"

"To live? No, I don't think so. There's not a lot here for me anymore, what with no parents, no brother. And anyway, my wife and my kids, all their family are there. Dragging them away from it all, I couldn't do it. Shame, though. Even though I came back because of what happened to Bruce, I've met some people I'll really miss. I mean that. You and Andrea, you've gotten me through it. I would have coped less well without you both. Even though it was under these circumstances, I'm glad we met."

"Yeah," Smithy said. "Me too."

The two men went to a nearby pub; it seemed to be an unspoken agreement. Coffee wouldn't have been sufficient enough to get them through the waiting, so they sat nursing glasses of scotch and ice, though Angus seemed to tolerate his much better. Noticing, he laughed.

"One thing I'll always carry," he said. ""Scotch. Forget Nessie, this needs to be the icon of Scotland. Sick, celebrating, just because? Out comes the scotch."

Smithy laughed too and said; "hard-core. you win."

He looked at his watch; they'd been there nearly three hours. He sighed, it felt more like eight.

"Horrible, isn't it?" Angus said. "The waiting. I remember when my boy had appendicitis. Each minute felt like an hour. You have kids?"

"No," Smithy said. "I don't know if I will. My dad, he wasn't the greatest. I'd hate for any of history to repeat itself."

"I don't think you're the sort of man to let that happen," Angus said.

"No," he said. "Not willingly anyway. But there's probably a lot I should work through before I even think about bringing a child into my life. I think seeing Andrea's trauma over things that happened years ago made me realise that you never really forget these things, no matter how much you think you have."

"Fair enough," said Angus. "Will she? Speak to someone, I mean?"

"Yeah. Sam's arranging it."

"Will you?"

Smithy looked at him awkwardly and Angus gave him a knowing sort of look, saying; "I know. Us men, not so good at the talking, are we?"

"No," Smithy agreed, and the barman bought over the pie and chips they'd ordered what felt like years ago. "If she's brave enough to though, I think I should be able to manage it."

"Talking about trauma is never easy," Angus said, cutting into his pie, chicken and mushroom gravy oozing onto the plate. "I think where we are now proves that, and the longer you leave it…"

"Yeah," Smithy said, looking at the plate, wondering why he bothered ordering it.

"Come on," said Angus. "Let's see if British pie and chips is still as good as I remember."

Smithy smiled, recognising Angus was giving him a way out of talking about it further. He took a bite of chip and his stomach woke up at the crisp saltiness.

"S'good," Angus said, his mouth full and Smithy nodded his agreement. The two had cleared their plates when Smithy's phone rang and he hurried to gulp his mouthful, coughing slightly as he answered.

"Hello, Gina?"

Angus watched his face pale as he listened, then spoke again.

"Is she okay?" He met Angus' eyes and listened more before saying; "Okay, we're coming back now. See you soon."

Gina met the two outside the intensive care unit and held out a hand, stopping Smithy from pressing the buzzer.

"Wait," she said. "Just a minute."

"You said she was okay."

"And she is, so to speak. She came through the procedure, Mr Jordan said it was 'relatively uneventful' but she's still very unwell. She's sedated and they'll keep her like that, maybe for the next 24 hours."

"Angus said," Smithy said. "And? What is it, Gina, I want to see her. Just tell me."

His terse tone was unlike him but the Inspector wasn't offended. She said, "You just should know before you do go in. He's here too."

"Maynard?" Smithy said. "They've put that animal on the same ward as everyone else?"

"Well he needs intensive care treatment, Smithy, where did you expect them to put him, NICU?"

"Actually, I was thinking more in the incinerator."

"I'll ignore that, shall I?"

"Got that cyanide yet?" he shot back, but hunched his shoulders when she gave him a look. "Ma'am."

"He's nowhere near her, not that he could do her anymore harm, even if he was. He's sustained some very serious injuries, including to the head. Reading between the lines, I don't think they hold out too much hope for him."

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer bloke," Smithy muttered. "What about Kirsty's family? Have they been told?"

"Yes. Adam and Sam travelled down to Peacehaven to tell them. They haven't been told everything, we didn't think that would be fair. Not just yet. They're being given special support by the Peacehaven police,"

"What about the girl who died in Venezuela?" Angus said. "The girl Kit was talking about? Do we know who she is? Was?"

"No," said Gina, with a heavy sigh. "I don't think it's very likely he or Kirsty even knew her name either; Kirsty said it herself, she was interested in a sale, not a character reference. And even if Mr Maynard wakes up, I doubt he'd tell us even if he did know."

"Someone out there lost their daughter," Angus said. "And they'll never know who really is to blame."

"I know," Gina said. "Believe me, Mr Malcolm, that's the thing I always struggle with in this job; sometimes there is no justice. Anyway, you two go on in and see Andrea. Oh, and her parents are on the way. I gave them a call and this time there was no keeping them away. I think they're driving though, so it'll take them a while."

What a way to meet parents for the first time, Smithy thought ruefully, buzzed into the ward and Angus went to follow him through the door, then stopped, staring at the flowers in his hand.

"I can't take these in here," he said, holding them out to Gina. "Would you be so kind, leave them where she fell?"

"Yeah," she said, taking them from him. "Of course."

He nodded his thanks, jaw taut, then followed Smithy through the door. They were directed to Andrea's bed. Smithy bit back a gasp on entering the room. She appeared to have shrunken to little more than a child, a thick layer of bandages wrapped around her head. The monotonous beeping was already doing his head in. Smithy picked up her hand, giving it a squeeze. It felt weightless in his hand.

"If you'd rather be alone with her…" Angus said.

"No," Smithy said. "Between this room and that beeping, I'll drive myself crazy. Stay, please."

Angus walked to the other side of the bed and sank into a chair. He held her hand in both of his.

"Maybe she'd like a holiday," he said. "When she's fit to fly. She'd be welcome over in Oz anytime, so would you. Of course, she won't be fit to travel for a while yet. It'd get her away from all of this."

"Yeah," Smithy murmured. "That's kind of you. I'm sure she'd love that. Just as long as she doesn't bring back one of those monsters you call spiders."

"The huntsmans?" Angus said with a laugh. "They're as nice as pie, once you accept them as a housemate."

"Once you accept you're their tenant, more like."

"Yeah, well," Angus said, and shrugged. "When something has that many legs and moves that fast, you learn pretty quickly to dance to their tune."

"No thanks," Smithy said with a shudder. "Why Australia? I mean, why settle there?"

This was what he needed; a nonsensical conversation about the terrifying creepy crawlies of Australia and life choices, not to focus solely on Andrea's condition. Just knowing he could sit and hold her hand was enough.

"Well, I started in New Zealand," he said. "On a specialist pathway, that's where I met my wife. She's a theatre nurse and a native Aussie. We went back to Melbourne after we married and…well, I never left. We settled, and after my parents died, there wasn't a reason to go back to Scotland. Bruce and I had contact of course, but it was more about the kids for him."

"What happened to them? Your parents?"

"Boating accident," he said. "About 14 years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said, shrugging. "Sometimes bad luck just strikes."

"You're not joking," Smithy said, looking at Andrea, then reached out a hand to stroke her face, then stopped, looking at Angus as if asking for his approval.

"Just be careful," he said, nodding. "Do you think you'll stay together?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Smithy said, looking at Angus as if he'd just suggested the Pope wasn't catholic.

"Well, a lot has happened and she…well, she was a bit worried. About her undercover job, that it'll always be there between you."

"We'll work through it."

"I hope you do," Angus said sincerely. "It sounds like you've both been through a lot recently. You deserve the happiness."

"Thanks Angus. And I hope we stay in touch. If there is a silver lining at times like this, it's meeting good people."

"Yeah," Angus said. "I hope so too."

When darkness had fallen, Smithy and Angus had been told, very firmly, by a stern looking Matron that they needed to leave and get some rest, pointedly assuring them both that Kit was under armed guard, and if he wasn't, was in a deep coma; he wouldn't be able to go anywhere near Andrea. She'd shown them out, seemingly aware that they'd get ideas about barging into Kit's room if she didn't; Smithy thought both he and Angus would be lying if they'd denied thinking about it. They walked through the hospital, most of the mess had now been cleared by a team of orderlies, and stepped into the cold spring air. Smithy rubbed the back of his neck.

"You going to head to the hotel?"

"No, I think I'll go back to Bruce's," Angus said. "I was only at the hotel because of that madman. Nothing to hide from now, is there? I don't think Andrea will find that reassuring though."

"No," Smithy said. "Probably not."

"You getting a cab?" Angus said, gesturing at the taxi rank.

"No, I'll walk," Smithy said. "It's not far. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You sure will," Angus said. "Night."

Smithy watched until Angus got into the cab, and the vehicle drove away. He sighed, standing on the street for a minute before deciding he didn't want to go home where there was no Andrea or Hugo to keep him company, stop him thinking. He'd go to Gina's. he was unsurprised to see the glow of light from her sitting room as he approached her house, she didn't do well with sleeping when she was stressed either. She answered his ring, unsurprised to see him.

"I'll have you know me and the fleabag were enjoying some quality time," she said, taking a sip from her glass.

"Sorry, not sorry," he said, sliding his coat off.

She poured him a generous measure of brandy, gesturing for him to sit down on the sofa.

"I know it's late."

"I thought you might come," she said. "That's why I stayed up. Well, that and I couldn't sleep. The enquiry into this is going to be a nightmare."

Smithy nodded his agreement and took a drink. "How did it happen? Did anyone actually see?"

"Adam and the team he were leading did. Kit was dragging Andrea to the edge, like he was going to throw her off. They thought she might have fainted because she wasn't struggling, but she dragged her knees up, powered to her feet, and broke free. Kirsty ran at Kit, shoved him away from Andrea, but they were too close to the edge. He had hold of her, and dragged her with him. Kirsty fell straight to the ground; I don't think she would have stood a chance. But like I said, he hit the balcony, so…"

Smithy finished the drink; Gina took the glass and refilled it. He stared down at it. Hugo jumped onto his lap and curled up with an enormous yawn. He stroked the cat behind the ears.

"Talk to me, Smithy."

"I hated her," he said. "Kirsty. For everything she'd done and today when she asked to speak to Kit, I nearly shoved her out there myself. I told myself I didn't care if he had killed her…but I can't be happy that she is."

"And?" she said. "You think any of us are? She completely messed everything up, she was a stupid child who never really grew up and that has resulted in three deaths, including her own. She's paid a heavy price for her stupidity. She's left behind a family, a son. There's so much more pieces left than the ones already fallen, Smithy, it'll take a long time to pick them up. You're a good man. I don't think you could ever find it in you to be happy someone was dead, even if they had wronged you."

"What am I going to do, Gina? How am I going to help her through this?"

"All she's going to want is for you to be there for her, Smithy. That's all you can do. It's going to take her a while to get over this."

Smithy took a drink from his glass, and said; "I think it's going to take us all a while to get over it. I know it's really bad, but I keep hoping that when she wakes up, she won't remember any of it. That she doesn't have to live with all those memories."

"In an ideal world, nobody would have to live with bad memories," she said. "But trauma shapes us, it makes us who we are, makes us stronger."

"I don't want that to be the last thing she sees every time she closes her eyes at night, Gina; someone she considered her best friend at one time falling off that roof. We didn't even see it, and that scream…"

"I know," she said, patting his shoulder. "We see some horrible things in our job, Smithy, and it's the harsh reality; we can't hide from it. Andrea worked with us for a year, and she lived with what happened in Venezuela for ten years. She'll know that better than anyone. She can't bottle it up anymore, or it will destroy her."

"Sam's arranging for her to speak to that therapist friend, she told me today." He blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Yesterday. God, this last day has just been a blur."

"You need to get some proper rest too my boy, and look after yourself," she said and took his empty glass. "Go on, you know your way to the spare room."

"Tuck me in?" he said, shooting her a look.

"Away with you," she said, swatting at his head. "Tuck yourself in, you're a big boy."

They both laughed and he got up, leaning down to hug her before heading up the stairs.

"Goodnight Ma'am."