A/N: I don't know why I wrote this, really. Probably because of the mind-numbing boredom that comes with being too ill to go to college. Hopefully it turned out OK.
Sarah x
Serena was crawling around the office, looking under the desk, under units, under her chair...even in the bin. Where the hell had it got to? She proceeded to scour Ric's side, not bothering to stand up just to bend over again. She crawled around, trying to think what could have happened to her necklace. She remembered taking it off to go into theatre. Beyond that, she was hopeless.
She sighed, resigned to the fact she was destined to be on her elbows and knees until she, or someone else, found it. "For Christ's sake," she groaned to herself. "I'm going to have to keep that thing glued to my body."
She was hopeless when it came to her jewellery. The number of times she'd lost her watch and necklace under the mountains of paperwork in her office was unbelievable. She had a habit of taking it off for theatre and forgetting what she'd done with it, especially when said theatre time was unexpected and of the life or death variety. Her jewellery tended to be the last thing on her mind.
"Would you happen to be searching for this?" a deep voice asked from behind her. She jumped and hit her head on the corner of Ric's desk. "Ugh!" she shouted. "Idiot," she muttered under her breath, referring to both herself and the person who caused her to start. She climbed up onto her knees, peering over the desk at the tall man before her.
Henrik Hanssen had her necklace dangling from his index finger, and he looked oddly pleased with himself. "Where did you find it?" she sighed.
"It fell out of your pocket in my office, when you and Ric sat down," he explained as she got to her feet. "I would suggest that your trouser pocket is not a wise place to store your valuables," he smirked.
"Neither is any other place I've tried," she grumbled, and she could have sworn he looked slightly amused at this. "I've got a memory like a sieve," she added, finally standing opposite him.
"Would you like me to..." he asked, and she realised he was offering to put her it around her neck. She turned her back to him, slightly disconcerted by such an offer of intimacy from a man so detached. His knuckles brushed her neck, and for some strange reason, the skin there tingled slightly. Once he closed the chain, his fingers touched the top of her head lightly, and she felt a sharp pain where he touched her. "You're bleeding," he informed her. "It doesn't look deep but it will need cleaned. Do you feel unwell at all?"
"No," she said. Just her luck to cut her head on a colleague's desk. "I'll get Chantelle to clean it for me."
"Nurse Lane is very busy," he reminded her. What? Was he actually suggesting he do it? The concept was laughable. She just couldn't picture him helping her in any way like that. If she didn't know any better, she'd have said he was being nice. He silently left her, but she was in no doubt that he'd be back.
She gingerly felt the top of her head, as if he could possibly have been mistaken about the blood. She winced at her own touch, feeling the sticky wetness. And sure enough, she looked at her fingers to find a dark red substance.
Hanssen re-entered the room with the necessities to clean the wound on her head. She didn't bother to object; it would have been pointless and would have only got her uptight. Instead, she leaned on her desk and let him approach her. She could feel his long finger separate her hair around the cut, and she could tell he was trying to be as gentle as he could. She'd never thought he was capable of being so...kind.
She didn't complain when her scalp stung as it was cleaned out, or when he rested a hand on her shoulder to keep her still. She heard the door open, and she knew Ric had just walked in. Her head was bowed, though, so she couldn't look at him, until he sat at his own desk. She glowered at him under her eyebrows, daring him to comment.
"That should be sufficient," Hanssen finally declared, his fingers rearranging her hair so she didn't quite look like the moron she felt. "I fear I may have caused you to hit your head," he admitted.
"It's fine," she assured him, not quite sure why her voice came out so soft when she intended it to sound strong. She looked up at Hanssen, acutely aware that Ric was watching them. She met his eyes for just a moment before adding, "My own fault anyway. I'm forever losing that necklace."
"Yes, you must learn to look after this better," he agreed, his fingers touching the metal lightly. "Be sure to say if you feel ill. And I wouldn't drink any alcohol tonight, just to be safe."
"Of course," she said, moving round the desk to sit in her chair, placing some distance between them. He nodded to her and then to Ric, and left in his usual proud fashion. As soon as the Swede was out the door, of course, Ric rounded on her.
"What was that all about?" he asked her. Of course he was curious. Everyone in this hospital seemed to be endlessly and annoyingly curious. "Was the almighty Mr. Hanssen giving the radiant Ms. Campbell a little TLC?" he teased.
"Shut up," she snapped with a glare. "I hit my head and he cleaned the cut. End of story."
"Were you crawling around the joint looking for that damn necklace of yours?" he guessed. "I saw it fall out of your pocket in Hanssen's office."
"And you didn't say anything?!" she demanded.
"I was curious to see what he'd do with it," he shrugged. "The fact he knew it was yours is quite remarkable since he doesn't pay much attention to anything but the job at hand."
She stared him in the face, knowing he was waiting for her to react the news that he'd known where he necklace was all along. "I could swing for you, Ric, you know that?" she asked, in a polite tone that didn't match the threatening intention. "You can be a right old git when you want to be."
"Did you only just notice that?" he grinned. "Anyway, you're no little angel yourself, you and your razor-blade tongue." She smiled, allowing him that one. "Could be worse," he told her.
"How could it be worse? I've got a sore head and you seem to be of the false opinion there was more to it than a nasty bump."
"It could've been Michael who walked in on that," he reminded her. He was right. She much preferred Ric's minor teasing to the monumental fun Michael would've had with that situation. "Although I have to admit, you did look like you were enjoying yourself, just a little bit."
"Yes, having the time of my life," she drawled sarcastically. "A gash to the head with a lanky Swede who hates my guts looming over me, probably taking great pleasure in the pain he was causing me."
"Oh, come on," Ric protested. "He doesn't hate your guts. Nobody can hate you for long. Not even Michael managed it."
"Ric, do the world a favour and shut your trap," she ordered him, opening one of the many files delegated to her by Hanssen. One of his unfortunate habits since Serena had become his 'sidekick' was to give her copious amounts of paperwork to do when she'd much rather be at home with a bottle of wine.
He did shut up for a few minutes, but he soon started again - "I saw that look."
"What look?" she sighed exasperatedly, humouring him whilst refusing to take her eyes off what she was doing. That shut him up. Pleading ignorance seemed to work better than getting annoyed at him; it just seemed to amuse him further. She concentrated on the papers in front of her, attempting to block out everything around her. But she was analysing every detail of that experience, wondering why her body reacted to his touch the way it did, when his hands touched her throat so briefly. And why on Earth he patched her up himself rather than have a nurse see to it. And why she'd allowed those things to happen in the first place.
She heard Ric get up but didn't take her gaze from her work until his fingers tapped lightly on her desk. When she looked up, he said, "The heart wants what it wants."
He didn't give her time to reply or even glower at him; he left her without another word, shutting the door behind him. What could possibly have given him that idea? Hanssen was her boss, nothing more, and she had no intentions of changing that. The simple explanation was that Ric was seeing things that just weren't there.
"The heart wants what it wants," she snorted mockingly, picking up her pen once more.
Hope this is alright!
Please feel free to review and say what you thought!
Sarah x
