So I've finally made it over to Holby...would love to have some feedback on this! Please review and let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Serena Campbell sat at her desk, typing furiously and muttering every so often under her breath. Occasionally she cast a glance at the clock ticking slowly on the wall before returning to the keyboard and the computer screen. She had the office to herself, but anyone listening closely outside would have been able to hear that her mutterings had nothing to do with the report she was trying to finish.

'Pompous. Arrogant. Stuck up, conceited, cold, egotistic, imperious….'

And so the list went on, her fingertips hitting the keyboard harder with every fresh insult. She was pissed off and wound up, and the knowledge that Henrik Hanssen had managed to do this to her yet again was just making it worse. It wasn't the fact that he had palmed this report off onto her in the first place. That was really what she was there for, after all. It wasn't even that he had abruptly changed the deadline. It was the infuriatingly cold and condescending way he had asked her – no, told her – that it had to be on his desk by six that evening, when he knew damn well she hadn't even started it. Her afternoon theatre list was full and it was nearly lunchtime already. As if to prove the point, her stomach gave a loud grumble and she sighed irritably, wondering if Hanssen ever felt such a thing as hunger. Probably not, she decided as she hit the full stop key with a final thump. The man was a machine. Feeling relieved that she had at least managed to finish the outline of it, she scrolled back up to read what she had typed.

'Mortality rate per pompous 100,000 (directly egotistical age standardised) of conceited male population from all causes at all ages…..'

She groaned and put her head in her hands. She needed caffeine. Quickly.

'Is little Rena having a tempter tantrum?'

Serena looked up between her fingers to see Michael Spence standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face and a takeout coffee cup in each hand. She fixed him with the same glare that she had given Hanssen earlier. It was the glare that could reduce F1s to tears and cause fellow consultants to mumble at their shoes, but it just made Michael's smirk even wider. He knew how much she hated that nickname.

'Call me that again, and I'll hang you up by the ankles before personally castrating you'.

'A task I'm sure you'd thoroughly enjoy', he said, handing her one of the coffees with an exaggerated flourish. 'But that's not the reason I came up here'.

Serena raised her eyebrows as she accepted the coffee, sniffing it suspiciously before taking a long sip. She had not forgotten the time Michael had tried to persuade her to cut down on the coffee and bought her endless rounds of peppermint tea instead.

'Patient I'd like you to look at….'

She held up her free hand to stop him before this went any further.

'Can't. I'm up to my eyeballs. Paperwork and a full elective list'.

'Ahhh, come on. Just a quick look. Malick said he'd cover for you'.

Serena's eyebrows shot even further upwards and Michael shrugged unapologetically.

'I'd really appreciate your input on this one'.

She sighed and took another mouthful of coffee. When Michael had the bit between his teeth, he was very hard to get rid of.

'Okay. What's the case?'

'Teresa Main. Forty one, came off her motorbike. No major injuries on the surface but she has abdominal pain that I'd like a GS opinion on'.

Serena reluctantly pushed back her chair and stood up.

'You owe me'.

'I brought you coffee?' Michael offered, standing back to let Serena through the door.

'Coffee is not going to do that report. Coffee…..' Serena emphasised the word, poking Michael in the chest as she passed him. 'Is not going to do all my elective hernias this afternoon'.

Michael smirked again, following her over to the lift.

'So what did Ric do this time?' Michael asked, referring to her fellow consultant on Keller, a man Serena was convinced had been put on this earth for the sole purpose of disagreeing with her.

'What?'

The lift doors pinged open, and Michael pressed the button for AAU.

'OK, so not Ric. That must mean Hanssen. Come on. Spit'.

Serena cast him a sideways glance, not really wanting to get into this conversation but knowing full well that he wouldn't give up until he got a halfway reasonable answer.

'He drives me insane', she finally said.

'This is Hanssen. He's the CEO. He drives everyone insane, it's in is job description'.

'He's so…..infuriating'.

Michael nodded, his lips twitching. Serena caught the movement and glared at him again.

'What's so funny?'

'You and Hanssen. If I didn't know better…..' He paused as the lift settled and the doors opened to reveal the chaos of a busy day on the Acute Admissions Unit.

'If you didn't know better….?'

Michal smirked at her as he led the way over to his patient. 'I'd say there was a reason you're letting him rile you. But since I do know better, I'm not gonna mention it'.

It was ten that evening before Serena finally unlocked her car and climbed behind the wheel with a heavy sigh. As she had suspected, Michael's patient had turned out to have complications. Serious ones. She had ended up having to push her own electives back and arrange with Malick to cover for her on Keller for most of the afternoon. Fortunately there had been nothing there that required her immediate attention. It wasn't until she got back to the office at four in the afternoon that she realised she had never finished the report, and the expletive that had escaped her lips had made Ric Griffin splutter into his mug.

Serena threw her handbag onto the passenger seat and started the engine. She hadn't been able to concentrate on mortality rate figures properly, but something that passed for a report had landed on Hanssen's desk at nine thirty-five. Michael's comments from earlier were playing over in her mind. He was right. Hanssen was Hanssen. He always irritated her – in fact he was probably the most annoying man she had ever met. She didn't particularly trust him, she didn't think she liked him, and she was certain all of those feelings were entirely mutual. What she couldn't understand was why it was bothering her all of a sudden.

She shook her head and put the car in gear. For once, she was glad Eleanor was staying with her father. She couldn't face any teenage tantrums tonight when all she wanted was a large glass of wine and her bed. She switched on the headlights, turned up the heating and started reversing out of the space before slamming the brakes on again. A loud clunk from the front driver's side wheel told her that something was not right, and she groaned. If her car broke down, it would be the fitting end to a crappy day.

'Shit, shit, shit'. She tried again, and the same clunk warned her not to try any further. She switched off the engine and got out, slamming the door hard behind her. 'Shit!'

'Something wrong, Ms Campbell?'

Serena stifled another groan as she turned around to see Henrik Hanssen standing behind her. All six foot four of him. She hated having to look upwards to speak to someone, especially when she was already wearing heels.

'It's clunking'. She waved vaguely in the direction of the front wheel. 'I'll have to call the breakdown people'.

'Ah'.

Serena watched in amazement as Hanssen put down his briefcase, bent down and stuck his hand in the space in between the tyre and the body of the car, moving it backwards and forwards.

'You have a broken suspension spring'.

For once, Serena was actually speechless. She couldn't believe that Hanssen knew what a suspension spring was, never mind that he could evidently tell when one was broken.

'You won't be able to drive it tonight, I'm afraid'. Hanssen took out a spotless handkerchief from his coat pocket and began wiping his hands on it carefully.

'I guessed that'. She finally recovered the power of speech. 'I'll call the AA'.

'No need tonight'. Hanssen picked up his briefcase again. 'I'll take you home'.

Serena just stood and looked at him. She was almost too stunned to do anything else. Was this Hanssen offering to do her a favour?

'Unless you would like to wait for another hour here before the AA come tonight?'

He had opened the passenger door of his car for her. She realised she had parked next to him and not noticed.

'I will pick you up in the morning. You can get it towed to the garage first thing, and it will be ready by the time you leave tomorrow night'.

She couldn't fault his logic. But then, Henrik Hanssen was nothing if not logical. Finally making up her mind – she really couldn't be bothered to sort it out tonight, and the car would be safe in the hospital car park – she reached across to grab her handbag an locked up before climbing into Hanssen's car.

'Your address, Ms Campbell?'

She nearly laughed at his absurdly formal tone before giving her address. As he drew smoothly out of the car park and indicated right, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. As usual, his face betrayed no emotion, no indication of what he was thinking or feeling. He looked straight ahead – which, she had to admit, was probably best when he was driving – and made no attempt at small talk. She gave a small sigh and turned to look out of the window. She had given up trying to penetrate the mysteries of Henrik Hanssen. What worried her slightly was that, every so often, she still wanted to.

Twenty silent minutes later, the car pulled up in Serena's driveway.

'Thank you'.

Hanssen did not stop the engine, but unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car with her.

'I'll see you in'.

'No need, Henrik'. She decided to risk a little light banter. 'I'm a big girl'. She rummaged in her handbag for her keys.

Was that a trace of a smile she saw on his face?

'At least until you have found your keys'.

She paused in her efforts and looked at him for a brief moment, her eyes narrowed slightly, wondering if he had heard about the time she had left her house keys on her desk and had to drive all the way back to Holby to get them. His face gave nothing away, except maybe a twinkle of amusement in his eyes that she decided she was imagining. It was late, after all. She pulled the keys out of the depths of her bag with a relieved sigh.

'I'll pick you up at seven thirty'.

Serena shook her head, thinking seven thirty? Oh dear God.

'Really, I can get a taxi'.

'It's no trouble. It's on my way anyway'.

This, she knew, was a blatant lie. Somewhere in the back of her mind a thought registered – that Hanssen was making an excuse to come by again. She quickly dismissed it. She must be more tired than she thought.

'Thanks again'. She pushed the door open and switched on the hall light.

'Good night, Serena'.

'Night'.

It wasn't until she had shut the door behind him that she realised he had used her first name. He never used her first name. She dropped her handbag on the floor and leaned against the front door as Hanssen's car lights disappeared down the road, feeling completely nonplussed.

It was not a feeling Serena Campbell was used to.