A possible sequel to What Are Friends For? But you don't need to have read that first. Fluff and cheese alert…but I promise no shouting this time :)
For all the lovely people who reviewed the first bit.
All characters belong to the BBC, no infringement intended.
Let Your Hair Down
The shift had been subtle, almost imperceptible but tangible and real nevertheless. The atmosphere was less tense, the disagreements less vitriolic, the friendship gentler, kinder in many ways. But nothing had actually been said or indeed done. The trips to the pub after work had become slightly more frequent. The excuses to have dinner together easier to make but neither of them had stepped forward and claimed they were embarking on something new or even something exclusive.
He looked up at her from his side of the desk, she was totally engrossed in the report she was writing. Her brow furrowed in concentration, her hair all pulled back in that elaborate style she'd taken to wearing. Had everything changed for him since that night he had screamed at her that he wished she could be the mother of his children? Not really. It had not been the leap off the precipice that Harry had been expecting, more of a geriatric shuffle down an uneven slope. He looked up at her again and remembered her as she was when he first met her. All hair bands and straight forward plaits, not one of these complicated arrangements she had now and those bangs! He chuckled to himself at the memory and then mentally corrected his Americanism.
'Bangs' it was a much better word than fringe. Fringe suggested something alternative or slightly anarchic, there didn't seem much anarchic about eyebrow length hair. Bangs however was an 'in your face' kind of a word and it suited the reality perfectly. He'd been introduced to the term by the younger sister of an American girlfriend he'd had during his A levels, they were more study partners than boyfriend and girlfriend but he always remembered her little sister. The first time he had gone to the house, the sister had opened the door and before he'd even stepped onto the mat he had been greeted with.
"Hi, I'm Lexi. Check out my bangs!"
He of course had no idea what the girl was referring to or what he was supposed to be checking out and was left humiliated and embarrassed, his face growing redder by the second as he desperately tried to understand what the child was referring to until he was finally rescued by… by… he couldn't even remember her name anymore. Talk about geriatric.
"We should do something on Friday," he announced suddenly.
"Hunh?" Nikki pulled her focus away from her report and looked up.
"I said; we should do something on Friday. Neither of us are on call. We should do something fun, something different. You know let our hair down."
Nikki looked up. "What are you suggesting?"
"Oh I don't know, I just thought of it," Harry stumbled, wishing he'd spent longer thinking about his proposition before letting it blurt out of his mouth.
"Aren't you supposed to be working; not thinking?" she asked.
"Aren't you?" he countered.
"I got interrupted," she said drily.
"So what about it, something on Friday – the two of us," he looked plaintively at her and was rewarded with a smile.
"Is it a date?" she asked softly.
"I don't know," Harry admitted shyly. "Do you want it to be?"
"Mm hmm," she nodded slightly.
"So what shall we do?"
Harry thought for a while, Nikki watched as his face betrayed a range of emotions.
"I'm not sure I like the look of any of the ideas you're thinking of," she said quickly.
"How do you know? I haven't said any of them yet."
"Well I know one of them was Karaoke, because you've been making hints for ages about the The King's Head on a Friday night and I know that's their Karaoke night."
Harry nodded, it was really infuriatingly hard to surprise someone who had an uncanny knack of knowing what you were thinking just by looking at you.
"I don't want to spend all night in the car getting somewhere, and then trying to get back again, so you'd better make it somewhere close so we can have a drink," she insisted.
Harry began tapping on his keyboard, obviously searching for ideas. Nikki saved her report and started searching to.
"So tell me again, what exactly are we looking for?"
"Something fun, something we've not done before and somewhere we can let our hair down."
"And I say it has to be close enough not to have to drive," Nikki insisted.
"Oh this could be something!"
"What?"
"It would be close, we could have a drink and we've never done it before?" Harry teased.
"What?"
"We could take in a concert, the Albert Hall is practically spitting distance from your flat."
Nikki continued tapping on her keyboard.
"I don't think so…"
"Why?" cried Harry impressed that he'd had what he considered to be a clever idea.
"Friday's programme includes Mahler and Shostakovich, you'd be working out ways of stabbing yourself with the furniture within five minutes. I thought this was about switching off from death and depression for once. I'd be left trying to explain to Leo why you were a dead body in the Albert Hall, how you had killed yourself using only opera glasses and how I had got to the scene so quickly."
Harry chuckled, "Hmm does sound rather depressing. Comedy store?"
"No way, you'd spend the whole evening making rude comments and claiming you'd be funnier."
"You're right again."
They both went back to tapping on their keyboards.
"Bungee jumping in the O2 arena!" Nikki exclaimed.
"You are joking! You made that up!" Harry laughed nervously and tried to peer round her screen. He really hoped she'd made that one up.
"What about greyhound racing?" He asked keen to be off the subject of attaching your body to an elastic band.
"Dog racing?"
"Yeah, it'll be great, we've never done it before, it'll be a laugh. It says here you can get two tickets and a burger for eight quid. All the money we save we can use for betting and a cab home!"
"Greyhound racing?"
"Oh, live a little Dr Alexander, we said this was about letting our hair down."
"But Harry, you haven't the first clue about betting. I'll wipe the floor with you!"
"Ah but I know how to spot a good dog," he said tapping his nose conspiratorially.
"Bollocks," she laughed.
"So what do you say then, we start with what £50 each and see who makes the most in the evening."
"So you're making this into a competition now," she chuckled.
"We did say it had to be fun," Harry said sagely.
"I am going to wipe the floor with you!" she laughed.
"See, I knew we could think of something."