A quick one shot that I couldn't get out of my head. Harry is once again waiting for Nikki.

All characters belong to the BBC.

Waiting For Each Other

We've spent our lives waiting for each other; to be honest neither of us is best known for our punctuality. I have to confess I will probably be late to my own funeral, though hopefully not for some time. I am late to work on a basis so regular that Leo now tells me I need to be in half an hour before I actually do, or he did, until I worked out his ploy and started adding the half hour back on. Every time I arrive, she's there waiting for me with the first cup of coffee of the morning, a cheery smile on her face.

Every time we go out the tables are turned and I have to wait for her, while she faffs with her hair, changes her outfit four times (I'm sure just to irritate me), and fiddle with tubes and bottles of potions, none of which she needs, she'd look beautiful pale faced, hair unbrushed and wearing a sack. I'll tease her about conforming to female stereotype and pointedly watch the clock but secretly I don't mind waiting all that much. I like watching her flitting around, humming to herself – just as long as she's remembered to pour me a glass of wine before she asks me to sit around.

I've waited for her to realise her paramedic was a racist idiot and that her South African beau was too corrupt for her conscience to allow. I've tried to support her as I've waited for her to recovery from head injuries and depression and although I've hated to watch her hurting is true that all our pain has led us to this point. Over the same time she has caringly and patiently waited for me to grieve for all those people I have lost, and I have come to depend on her support, as I think she depends on mine.

Then we waited for each other to see sense; I think Leo has wanted to beat our heads together on more than one occasion. We have both, at one time or another confessed our feelings for each other to him and yet somehow, to his despair, circumstances contrived to make it near-on impossible for us to confess how we felt for a considerable period of time.

The sense of relief when the truth finally emerged was the greatest moment of my life, until now.

Now, once again I am waiting for her, grateful for Leo's staunch support by my side. I glance at my watch and tap my feet nervously and hear his amused chuckle. I know she'll be here, she's never let me down, but I wish, just for once, that she had been on time.

"She'll be here," Leo mutters softly to me, resting a hand reassuringly on my shoulder.

"I know," I reply with a little smile, "I'd drop dead in shock if she was actually on time."

He claps me on the back and we return to our silent vigil, both jumping slightly as the age old music starts and the main doors open. As she glides towards me, a vision in white I realise that I will no longer have to wait for Nikki Alexander.

I'll be waiting for Nikki Cunningham instead.