I don't know where this came from but I'm thinking of making oneshots about how Linda wishes a night with Michael might go. I don't know what and how this will carry on but I'll make a start.

Linda is having a bath when Michael comes through and things start to get heated.

She stepped into the bath and slid into a comfortable position. The smell of lavender filled her nostrils while the bubbles swept over her naked body. One leg was up, her knee poking out of the water, while her other leg was still underneath, only her toes of this leg were visible as they rested against the end of the bathtub.

She picked up her old, torn but loved copy of "To kill a mocking bird" in her left hand and picked up her glass of 2008 ruby red vino, which was resting on the edge of the bathtub, in the other.

She had only got a couple of pages in when she heard footsteps from outside in the corridor. She snapped her head to look at the door. The noises from the corridor terrified her as she was meant to be he living alone.
She dropped her book on the floor beside the bath and listened, the footsteps were distant but they got closer and closer. Her breathing quickened, what if it was a burglar, which had heard her and was coming to kill the evidence. She placed her glass back on the ledge and pushed herself through the water, passed the taps -that were fixed onto the side of the bathtub- and rested against the opposite end of the bath.

She faced the door, she didn't know what to do. One thousand scenarios passed through her head, all at a million miles per second. She visioned herself being shot, stabbed, drowned. Any situation you could find yourself in.

She watched as the handle was pushed down and the door clicked, signalling that it had just been opened. She wondered if she should get up, she thought it was the only right to do so, but when she tried she couldn't...it was as if she was frozen on the spot.

The door creaked open and in came...
"Michael." She whispered into the silence between them."What are you doing here?"

Linda looked him up and down, he was wearing nothing but a tight pair of red cotton pants. She then looked into the corridor behind him. Michael's clothes where in a line down the corridor. His jacket and tie, followed by his socks and shoes then his crisp white shirt and tight grey trousers that he always wore.

He placed a finger onto his lips and signalled for her to be quiet. His fingers looped around the waist band of his pants and pushed them south-wards. He shook his foot and his pants went flying off and landed somewhere across the other side of the room. He stretched and everything was on show, his muscles and also everything else, below the belt, which would not be on show normally.

He walked over to the bath, lifted his leg, and sat down. Linda and Michael were sitting in the bath, naked. Linda just continued staring at him, confused, but in awe. She couldn't believe this, Michael didn't even live or go out with her, so what had made him be so outright and so forward that he would just walk into her house, strip and sit in the bath, naked, across from her.

Michael tapped the bottom of the bath, indicating to Linda to come and sit beside him. She turned around, her back facing his chest, and kicked the end of the tub and slid, in one fluid move, up to him.

Her body sank into his as she rested up against him. One of his fingers gently ran from her clavicle, right down the indent of her chest, past her breasts and stopped at her navel. A deep laugh erupted from her as Michael placed a kiss on her neck, and another.

She pushed herself up and turned around to face him. She was kneeling on his knees inbetween his open legs. Her right hand slid up his chest and wrapped around his neck, and she placed her other hand on the bottom of his back. His hand lightly ran up her arm and rested on her face. They both learned in and both kissed passionately. Both of their hands were busy, running through each others hair, caressing each others backs and other parts of their body.

Linda raised herself out of the water, she grabbed Michaels hand and pulled him up to. Some of the water landed on the floor but she didn't care about that the now, she would get it later, all she cared about was showing Michael how much she loved him.

She stepped out the bath onto the floor, unlocked and opened the door. Linda and Michael, never letting go of each others hands, made their way out into her bedroom. None of them caring about the mess which had been made, only caring about each other and thinking about the ways they could show it when they got in there.