The disclaimer: none of these characters belong to me; they belong to Shoot the Moon Enterprises and Warner Bros to whom I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to take them out for a spin and a bit of light humour.

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She woke slowly, to the familiar feeling of aches and pains that were not masked nearly enough by drugs. She made no move to open her eyes, knowing already from the familiar sounds that she was in a hospital bed, again. She grimaced inwardly at the thought that her life had become one of intimate knowledge of the sounds of a hospital. Her mother would have something to say about that, she was sure. Diverted by the thought of her mother, she wondered if anyone had told her about this latest injury, or if it was destined to join a long line of scars she'd find herself explaining away later if they were seen. "Funny," she thought to herself. "Nobody tells you in spy school about how all your future fashion choices will be dictated by either their ability to let you fight for your life or cover the marks you get doing that."

She tried remembering what had happened that brought her here and found it came easily. That was a relief since it suggested she didn't have a concussion or at least not one that had caused any memory loss. She could recall the momentary floating sensation as she'd tipped out the second floor window of the warehouse, propelled by the backhand across the face she'd received from Walter Spencer. What was it that t-shirt in the Georgetown shop window had said? "It's not the fall that kills you, it's the sudden stop at the end"? She could vouch for that since the experience had been relatively pleasant up until the second she had hit the top of that dumpster and then rolled off it onto the pavement below. Everything after that was just noise: coming to and hearing Lee calling her name, someone telling him to calm down, the siren of the ambulance muffled only slightly by Lee talking to her in soothing tones as they hurtled through the streets on the way to the hospital.

Eyes still closed, she probed around her body mentally to see if she could figure out what damage she'd done this time. At least one cracked rib, she guessed first, maybe more based on the pain of simply breathing in and out. Wriggling toes seemed fine, flexing hands not so much as the pain shot up her left arm. "Broken?" she wondered and eased her eyes open a sliver to see if there was a cast. At the sight of bandages only, she unthinkingly heaved a small sigh of relief, wincing again at the pain that caused her. From the brief moment her eyes were open, she could tell that it was now night and that she was alone in the dimly lit room which suggested it must be very late indeed. Lifting her uninjured arm slowly, she felt around her head, trying to see what signs of trauma she'd managed to endure this time and found the all-too familiar ridge of stitches that was going to mean weeks of hair styles trying to cover it. She accidentally pressed too hard against them, and with the onset of a dizzying rush of pain, she was suddenly reliving the sensation of falling and the moment when her head had cracked against the pavement and she gave a small whimper of fear and felt the tears begin to trickle down her cheeks.

A warm hand captured hers and brought it back to lay on the bed. "Don't worry, your head's still attached" said a welcome familiar voice. She turned towards it and found Lee sitting in the chair beside her bed, still holding her hand, his smile mixed with an expression of relief. "Welcome back."

She had thought she was alone and was overwhelmed by the rush of relief she felt at seeing him. She struggled to control her tears, knowing how much he hated it.

"What..?" she started to ask but her throat was too dry to produce anything except scratchy sounds. Lee leaned over to the bedside table and picked up a glass and slipping his arm around her, helped her lift her head enough to take a sip of warm water. Once her head was back on the pillow, she tried again. "What are you doing here?"

Lee looked surprised. "Where else would I be?" He had picked her hand up again in one of his and was gently wiping the tears off her cheeks with his other. He really has changed, she thought – when they'd first met, tears would have sent him running out of the room. She stared at the way his fingers were laid over hers and thought, not for the first time, what beautiful hands he had.

She looked back up at him and stated the obvious. "Not here. You hate hospitals."

Lee managed to grin and look virtuous at the same time. "No, I hate being a patient. There's a difference."

A nurse had walked in to hear the last of this and quipped, "It's true. He's a terrible patient but someone's been training him because he's much better behaved these days. He's only yelled at us twice so far about we should be looking after you better since you came in this afternoon." Her smile suggested she was familiar with Lee from previous visits.

She rolled her eyes at him as his lips twitched and the dimples creased his cheeks the way they did when he was trying not to smile and failing miserably. They both knew who could take the credit for 'training' him into better behavior.

Lee reached over to brush her hair off her face where it had fallen from her exploration of her head before saying quietly, "I'm really glad you're okay. I just about had a heart attack when I saw you go out that window."

"Me too." It had to be more than a few ribs she realized – it hurt way too much even to get breath in and out for these short sentences.

"Listen, I wanted to wait until you woke up to make sure you were alright but I have to go back and wrap up with Billy. I'll be back as soon as I can. Shouldn't be more than a couple of hours, okay?"

To her shame, her first feeling at his words was panic at the thought of being left alone – the longer she was awake, the more the memory of that long fall was coming back and she knew that left to her own devices she'd be replaying it in her head all night. Something must have shown on her face because he squeezed her hand again gently and murmured "Hey, it'll okay. You'll have company." She'd forgotten she'd confided to him once that she hated being in hospital because she could never sleep properly in a place where she couldn't lock the door.

"I'll be fine." She tried to sound brave – she hated anyone thinking she wasn't as brave as anyone else in the Agency. Lee was right - that nurse seemed nice and she wouldn't be alone in a busy hospital. It was then that she heard another sound and turning her head, she saw a female figure in the darkened corner getting up off the loveseat she'd obviously been sleeping on and stretching with a groan, before asking quietly, "How is she, Lee? Any better?"

"Ask her yourself, she's awake."

"Well, thank god for that."

Lee looked back down at her. "See? The whole gang's here."

"Gang? Right now Billy thinks we're more like the Three Stooges even if we did get Spencer. Now, how are you feeling?"

She felt the tears starting again at the genuine concern she heard behind the question. When had this woman who was her polar opposite in just about everything evolved into such a good friend?

Lee was speaking again, but not to her this time. "I have to go back to the Agency. I'll be back as soon as I smooth things over with Billy."

"So not for several hours then."

"Are you in trouble?" she managed to get out. The question was halfway to being answered by the guilty expression on Lee's face. "Why? You said we got him."

"I'll give you three guesses why." The two women shared a look that said everything about their intimate knowledge of Lee Stetson.

"What did you do to Spencer?"

"He needed to be subdued" grumbled Lee defensively.

"I think the first few punches probably subdued him, Stetson. It's everything after that you have to justify."

"Leeeee". She managed to breathe out his name as a long-drawn out accusation.

He was looking guiltier by the second. "Hey, you'd just gone out a window and he was getting away."

"Yeah right." She wasn't sure but she suspected both of them had said it at the same time.

"If you both need to go, I don't need you to stay." She felt like she should put up a protest but her statement were just greeted by raised eyebrows.

"Maybe not, but I will anyway. I know I hate sitting by myself in a hospital room and I'm excellent at running interference with the nurses."

She didn't want to admit how relieved to hear she wasn't going to be left alone. "Thanks".

"My pleasure."

Lee dragged himself upright and leaned over to drop a kiss on her forehead. "Ok, I'm leaving you in more capable hands than mine. I'll be back though, okay?" He was almost at the door when she called his name.

"Lee? Thank you."

"Now, now Francine, don't go getting all emotional on me." He grinned at her from across the room. "Anyway, you'd have done the same for me." He waited for her to smile back before winking and adding. "Now get some sleep and don't fight with your bedside bluebell – I know from personal experience Amanda won't fight fair!"