A/N: Okay, this is just a bit of fun, I hope! The lurgy has finally gone (my fault for being smug about need for flu jab) house clean (as clean as it's going to be anyway) shopping finished (thanks Sainsbug's on-line) cards put up (only 4 so far this year from people we forgot, which is good for us) all presents bought (thanks Amazon Prime) and now moved away from under the tree (thanks Lily for tearing the paper off so we had to do rescue job) all edible decorations moved off tree to stop Lily trying to climb it to get at them (!?) mince pies made, too early to open a bottle (it is, honestly) or to start on the chocolates and I'M BORED and when I'm bored, hey? Yup, you guessed it.

Those of you with little ones, make the most of it, you'll miss it!

-OG-

"Nah, not going to be there"

"Please, please promise, I'm not going to set you up it'll just be us and this couple we owe, and I can't stick her" Sara pulled a face "Oh go on, Molls, please, I need you there otherwise I'll have to get pissed and then what?"

"You always get pissed so it won't make no odds whether I'm there or not and I told you last time, nah"

"No, I promise, I said I won't do it again and I won't, there won't be any spare bloke invited for you, cut my throat and hope to die"

"Do it again and I'll bleeding well cut it for you"

Sara has been me oldest and best mate, well, ever since I'd moved away from east London where I grew up. I'd got me first ever assignment for Channel Five and I'd been completely bloody ecstatic to be sent as a trainee Production Assistant, all bright eyed and enthusiastic and ready to do this fly-on-the wall at the wart on the bum of the world that's Catterick garrison. The rest of the crew were a bunch of superior wankers, even the girls, well actually especially the girls. They'd all worked together before, knew each other really well and were so fucking up their own backsides that it was apparently more than their lives were worth to speak to the newbee. To be honest I were well out of my depth and really bleeding lonely and far from home until she rescued me, but that don't mean she's allowed to pick me boyfriends for me, not that I've had one for a long time.

"How long have you two known me, you and Gazza?" Sara pulled a 'I couldn't say off-hand' sort of face and shrugged "Four years, well give or take, four bleeding years and that's well long enough to know that some tosser with a sweaty problem is not gonna be my soul mate, or even be good for a shag, or anything else come to that" I gave a little shudder and made a gagging face, you know, mock fingers down the throat pretending to puke sort of face just to make sure she makes no mistake about how I feel "He was wet … yuk ….. he were gushing, and apart from that, what made you think I would have anything in common with him?"

"Sorry" Sara started to giggle "He's an old Uni mate of Gary's, he hadn't seen him for a while so he might of forgotten about the gushing armpit situation"

"Not funny" I couldn't help laughing "I didn't know where to look and stop bleeding laughing, and I s'pose Gaz'd forgotten all about the sweaty palms, the sweaty back, the sweaty face, it were running down his gob and dripping off his nose … stop bleeding laughing, and he was boring as fuck as well"

"Alright, maybe he was a bit damp, but perhaps that was because you made him nervous"

"DAMP? And your old man had more reason to be nervous than he did, I've done the 'How to look after yourself in a war zone', so he was just bloody lucky it was me night off. Anyhow, I told you last time, I'm not coming, never, ever, again, no way"

Sara is married to Gary, one of them technical backroom clever bugger types of army officer who does something technically backroom clever, no bleeding idea what, but he can be a really good laugh, especially when he's had a couple. Sara calls him her 'two pint giggle' which he is, but even though they're complete opposites, she is my soul mate, can drink for England until that last little one that tips her over the edge, they are the closest thing to the ideal married couple I'm ever likely to come across.

She does some sort of clerical job or some'ing for the army, and I met her in this pub close to the camp where she'd just finished a shit day at work and were gonna drown her sorrows before heading off home and I were contemplating doing a runner back to London so we bonded over a bottle of Merlot or maybe it was two. We kept in touch after I'd finished up there, and had got me promotion to Production Assistant, had gone on and done a fair few assignments, even a couple overseas, and made a resolution, which I've kept, never to be shitty to trainees. The day I moved into me own place in Epsom, near enough to Gatwick and not too far for getting to the studios in Purley, but not next door, was a real red letter day for me and okay it is a bit on the small side and a bit basic, but it's close to the High Street and the pubs, so it's ideal and it's mine.

Gary got posted to Aldershot beginning of last year, and they also found a place in Epsom, but in the posh bit, which was fantastic news for me. I don't think Gary actually wanted to have that much of a commute, but Sara insisted that it was a condition of her not making a bleeding fuss about moving. She was actually okay with being shifted, even if she didn't tell him that, she weren't exactly on the slippery pole of promotion where she was, not only was she married so wasn't free to go wherever they decided to send her, but she'd got this habit of being a bit outspoken on occasion, so maybe if she hadn't got quite such a big gob…? Well, that's what Gary says anyhow, although he reckons that's why we get on so well, cheeky fucker.

The thing I hate about her, and bloody Gary, is that they will keep on trying to set me up with people, usually blokes that I wouldn't touch with someone else's let alone mine, because Sara is totally convinced that I need a bloke in me life, or at least in me bed, obviously never heard of rabbits, and I keep on telling her that I don't need one, okay, I might like one, maybe even want one sometimes, but I'm not desperate.

-OG-

"Come on hurry up, you're late" I could hear that stupid "isn't everything wonderful and I'm so posh" laugh that she puts on as soon as I'd rung the door bell, it was as far from her usual dirty snigger as you can get, so I knew that she had an audience. Might just have been the married couple she'd talked about, but somehow I didn't think so, it wouldn't have surprised me if they didn't even exist.

"How the fuck can I be late? You said it was just us and some couple you hate so what's the bleeding rush? Anyhow I'm not late" Sara was checking her watch at the same time as she was trying so hard to hassle me into the sitting room that she was almost pushing me so that I began to smell a rat, a bloody big one, I FUCKING KNEW IT "If you've done what I think you've done, then you're dead, you know that don't you? In fact I might just piss off now before I wring your neck"

"It was a spur of the moment thing, honestly it wasn't planned or anything, and it wasn't me, honest, it was Gary, he met this bloke when he was doing some IT …. something or other at Headley and they got chatting and Gaz felt a bit sorry for him, his family live bloody miles away so he don't get many visitors and my hero thought it would be nice for him to have an evening out, you know? Away from that place" She were pulling her pleading face, the one she's really good at, the one that says please don't be mad at me and please don't make a scene, show me up "He thought you'd get on well, but he didn't ask him for you, honestly, apparently didn't even tell him you're going to be here"

"Oh it's getting better and better, and don't keep on saying honest, you wouldn't bleeding know honest if it leapt up and bit your bum, and he's not here for me? I don't shittin well believe that for a start and what's up with this one? I mean, you said he's at Headley, so what's up with him? I don't wanna go in there and go 'Holy Shit not again' do I? I might upset him and it's not his fault you keep finding these no-hopers and parading me in front of them, is it?"

"I don't know, I couldn't see anything wrong with him, but I didn't really get much of a look, Gaz took him straight through, I reckon it must be something that don't show"

We both sniggered a bit, I couldn't help it even though I was mad at her, she is my soul mate and she shares my filthy mind, well, she is me mate when she's not trying to palm me off on some wanker, but I was buggered if I was gonna play nicely this time, I'd bleeding well meant it when I said not again so I just went in and sort of said a general "hello" so that all the people in the sitting room turned round to look at me. That included the bloke sitting there chatting with Gary, the bloke that looked up at me and smiled a hello, the bloke that made me have some sort of menopausal hot flush so that I could of done with one of them little paper fan things that girls used to carry round in the olden days.

Holy fucking fuck, there is a Santa Claus after all, cos I mean, shit, no-one actually looks as good as that in real life, do they? I could feel that my mouth was sort of hanging open as I turned and did that widen your eyes as far as they'll go 'I don't believe what I've just seen' face at Sara, who was doing the exact same thing back to me, I reckon she'd just got her first proper, full on, in the face, look at my date for the evening. I might have forgotten to mention that I'd decided that the very least I could do was be nice to this poor soldier who was so far from home, cheer him up a bit, and it's nearly Christmas innit? Goodwill 'n all that.

The soldier stood up and smiled as he shook me hand giving me about five seconds to run me eyes over him, up to the top of his head and back before I would be risking giving him the creeps by being pervy. He's tall, bleeding tall, looks like he works out a fair bit 'n all and he's got loads of dark curly hair and big brown eyes, but I couldn't see where he'd been hurt which was a bit ominous, not that I noticed that much about him, well obviously didn't really look, did I? Then he introduced himself as Charles. He's got a lovely voice, very smooth and posh, but for some reason me mouth had gone all dry and me voice seemed to have gone AWOL so it wouldn't work and Gary had to introduce us. I could see that Charles is a lot older than me, I don't know how old exactly, but I was aware I might be forced to break me own cast iron rule of never messing with anyone who might be the same generation as me dad, although I'm not sure he's that old, and let's face it, it wasn't like I really cared.

When we moved to the dining room table I could see he'd got a bit of a limp, which was a relief cos it probably meant that nothing vital had been blown off, seeing as how I was still desperately trying to think of something clever and witty and charming to say, something that didn't include swearing like a trooper or laughing like a drain, something sweet and feminine and I really didn't need to be distracted with imagining what might be missing. Gazza poured me a bloody great big glass of wine and asked if I was feeling okay, I think I was confusing him as I did my absolute level best to be the 'perfect' guest and to engage the other couple in conversation.

Geoffrey some'ing or other, didn't catch their name cos I was a bit distracted at the time, well he weren't too bad, but her, Yvonne, there I had to agree with Sara. Apparently, she's a big fan of the opera and cos even I know that opera is a sort of posh, intellectual sort of thing, I heard myself saying that I love it too and then prayed she wouldn't ask me about me favourite, I mean, do I look like someone who'd have a favourite opera? The only thing I know about it is that fat women sing it, like at the Last Night at the Proms, I mean that is opera, innit? Sara had this look on her face like she was gonna need to go in the kitchen any second to piss herself laughing so I began to concentrate on finding some'ing to say to Charles, some'ing that wouldn't put him off more than I'd already done.

"So what is it you do, Molly?"

Now, normally I can talk for Britain about me job cos I shittin' well love it, all that organising the talent, the people who go in front of the cameras, making sure we get everything timed perfectly to get our satellite slot when we're doing 'live' from overseas and arranging stuff when we're doing fly-on-the wall, in other words it's right up my street cos I'm the nuts at bossing everyone about and making sure everything goes smoothly, but the bleeding cat had still got me tongue.

Gazza was about to have a nervous breakdown, he was quite obviously as confused as fuck as to what was going on when I put me hand over the top of me glass and said no more for me thanks in this sort of genteel way so that he screwed his napkin up and threw it down on his plate.

"Okay, that's enough, who are you and what have you done with our Molls?"

"Are you suggesting that I usually have some sort of drink problem, that I can't say no?"

"YES and normally we can't get you to shut your gob, especially about your job, so what's going on here?"

If he'd ever heard that expression 'If looks could kill' he only have had to look at his wife to find out exactly what it meant, but Charles were laughing, he seemed to find some'ing very funny, so I sort of swigged me wine, then said yes to a top-up and suddenly things went normal cos the other stuff were far too bleeding hard. I started talking about me job, repeating some downright scurrilous stuff, some of it might even have been true but most of it were lies, about people in the public eye that I'd met and worked with, and then I threatened me audience with death if they repeated any of it or put it on Facebook, and the evening turned into a whole lot of fun. Eventually bloody Geoffrey and bloody Yvonne said something about needing to get back for their babysitter, they've got kids? They've had sex? Really? That is so bleeding unfair, mind you I wouldn't want to have sex with Geoffrey, still ….. Anyhow the miserable fuckers started breaking up the party, which was a bit of a shame, just when I'd started to really enjoy myself.

Charles was obviously worried about overstaying his welcome, as if, so he also started making noises about going, and I decided I would leave as well, no point ordering two taxis, was there? I said something about how lovely it had been to meet him and he said ditto, mind you I couldn't help thinking it could have been even lovelier if he'd taken his shirt off and judging from the expression on Sara's face she wouldn't have objected either, but he offered to share his taxi with me, to see me safely home cos it was late and the expression on her face changed to something else entirely. I know she's married to Gary and he's lovely and she loves him to bits, wouldn't change him for the world, but she obviously doesn't think there's any harm in doing a bit of window shopping.

So then there we were in the back of this taxi, which stunk of Jeyes fluid and one of them little tree air freshener thingies so that I didn't wanna think about why, and I was back to trying desperately to come up with something to talk about which didn't involve inviting him to stick his tongue down my throat. I'm not even sure he likes me, he must think I'm some sort of raving nut job with a booze problem, half the evening I was this drooling mute with all the personality of a dead haddock, who apparently loves opera, I mean opera? holy shit. Then, when I'd finished lying about that and I'd necked a couple of glasses I came to life and turned into this gobby indiscreet show-off who didn't know when to put a bloody sock in it.

Terrific, well done Molls, that was brilliant even by your standards, you meet this bloke, the first bloke you've fancied in just about forever, and instead of looking to find a way to actually have sex for the first time this year, or maybe even last year, it's been so long I can't remember, you behave like a total lunatic and blow it.

He was a proper gentleman, wouldn't let me pay anything towards the taxi fare, just asked the driver to wait while he saw me up to my door, which meant, bollocks, there was no way he was planning on coming in for anything …. coffee, strip me clothes off, strip his clothes off, whatever ….. He just carried on with the gentlemanly thing by taking me key out of me hand and unlocking me front door, so either he was being a real gent or he thought I was too pissed to find the lock on me own, which I definitely wasn't, then he kissed me on the cheek, said goodnight and went to walk, or rather limp, back downstairs to the taxi.

I was still cursing that I hadn't had quite enough guts, or had enough to drink, to grab hold and push him into the flat, when he stopped at the top of the stairs.

"Molly?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow evening?"

I needed to think very carefully about me answer, which I did for, I dunno, about half a nano-second "Yeah, I'd love that"

"Lovely, I'll look forward to it" He was laughing as I nodded, a big grin on my face that matched the one on his "I'll pick you up here then, what about 7.30? Oh, just one thing, please can we not talk about bloody opera all evening, I hate it"

Now, I could be totally wrong here, but I have a feeling that he knew!