Some light hearted fluff I dreamt up today, seeing as it's pancake day! Sadly, we had no flour, so no pancakes for me :(
Pancake Day
Samantha Nixon sat up in bed and chewed lightly on her bottom lip- a trait she had a habit of when she got nervous or uncomfortable. She ran a hand through her shoulder-length blonde hair and her eyes flickered to the lump in bed next to her; she'd really got herself into a corner now, literally. An established single, Sam hadn't banked on company, so there was no reason for her bed to be accessible from both sides: this had left her with the problem of waking against the wall.
Sitting at the bar in the pub with Phil on her left, and Terry on her right, Sam drank from her red wine. "So, how was your Valentine's, gov?" Terry asked bitterly, to which Sam replied immediately.
"Awful, why the long face?" She had noticed the DC looking downhearted and put her hand to his back, "I thought you were getting back together with Helen."
"She spent the night with David." Terry grumbled, skulking off to a nearby table with a sympathetic Jo.
Phil let out a breath and looked at her, "Poor bloke."
"That's what comes from messing in a marriage." Sam said wisely, before leaning her elbow on the bar. "How was your yesterday? I guess by your standards pretty good?"
Phil looked amused, his blue eyes dancing with an emotion Sam couldn't quite place. "My standards, Sam? I spent the night in with a ready meal for one and a crate of Carling." Sam chuckled slightly at that,
"Blimey, we are a pair, aren't we," she smiled, looking back to her glass, "Hitting the forties and single."
"Speak for yourself!" Phil was shocked, "I ain't there yet."
Sam raised an eyebrow, "Watch your mouth, Philip, some of us aren't that lucky."
"Some of us aren't that gorgeous." He threw back a comeback, leaving her blushing a light pink and looking down, clearing her throat.
After a moment of anticipating her next move, Sam pushed up on her hands and the balls of her feet, carefully raising her bare leg and wincing silence while stretching across the bed. The little blonde cursed herself for being so tiny, and glared at her short leg as if willing it to grow another four inches. An unwelcome coincidence, the digital clock's red numbers clicked to 08.00, and a shrill ring filled the otherwise silent room. The disturbance caused the figure in the bed to turn over, knocking Sam's thigh and her concentration, too. She fell heavily, a leg either side of the bump and swore under her breath as the covers moved.
An eyebrow raised, a sleepy Phil Hunter ran a hand through his tousled dark hair, "Well... If that's the welcome I get every morning..." he smiled cheekily.
Sam was frozen to the spot, and just looked at him, regret plastered all over her face. She opened her dry mouth to speak, but no sound came out; she was stark naked, her soft pink skin visible to his stare. Gaining the ability to move, she pulled a sheet around herself and flushed deep red, climbing off him and fleeing to the safety of her bathroom.
What was wrong with her? She was forty-two, a grown woman and a mother, and wasn't able to stay in the same room as the man she had made love to the night before. Some might call it cowardly, but she had her reasons.
Outside, awaiting her taxi, Samantha was surprised when she felt a warm sensation against her cold neck. She turned to see Phil looking cheekily seductive, a trait she had loved in him. "You shouldn't be out here alone."
"I don't know about you Phil, but I'm not scared of the dark." Sam grinned, stepping closer and pressing her palm lightly to his white shirt.
"A gentleman double-checks though, right?" he smiled, bringing her closer by sliding a hand round her lower back. Responding to his touch, partly fuelled by alcohol, Sam leant up on her toes and allowed him to make his move. He didn't need any more encouragement and in seconds his lips had met hers and were creating soft pings as every few seconds they parted, testing out each other's kissing technique. It had happened before, and no doubt it would happen again, but something they both loved was their uncanny ability to match each other's advances. As if psychic, Sam's lips parted at the exact moment Phil was about to trace her lips with his tongue.
"Sam..?" Phil knocked on the bathroom door, unsure of how to react. Sam wasn't just his lover, she was his best friend. They worked together, confided in each other, grabbed a coffee together on their lunch breaks and to put it blandly, would find life pretty difficult without the other.
After a few minutes, Sam emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered. Her skin was pink from the hot water and she wore a light blue satin nightgown, fastened at the waist. She had roughly towel-dried her hair and it hung wavy and dark blonde with the damp to her shoulders. She looked up at him, her eyes soft and apologetic.
"I shouldn't have run out on you."
"Sam-"
"No Phil, really, I am sorry. This isn't your fault; it was my decision too." Her shower had given her time to think, and she had gained perspective.
Phil smiled, letting her know he understood. "So... Orange juice and toast right?"
"Actually," Sam smiled up at him, "I have a better idea. You know what day it is?"
Phil tilted his head and thought about it, "No... Should I?"
"Aw, come on.. Sixteenth February? Doesn't ring any bells?"
Phil still looked blank, and Sam grinned. Having had a daughter that never forgot this day, Sam was programmed to remember. Her eyes sparkled and she flew down the stairs to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing some eggs, milk and butter, a pan from the cupboard and some flour. By the time Phil came into the kitchen, she was pouring a mixture into a pan and swirling it round.
"Pancake day!" Sam threw him a couple of lemons and a bag of sugar before snapping her wrist and flipping the pancake over in the pan.
"Blimey, would you look at Nigella!" Phil smirked and cut the lemons into quarters, leaving them on a plate with a bowl of sugar, crossing the kitchen to lean on the counter by Sam.
When she had served up the pancakes on plates, and they were sat at the table, Phil was tucking in hungrily. "Best pancakes I've ever had." He grinned, looking across at her.
"Plenty of practice," Sam smiled, finishing off her pancake and sitting back. She surveyed him with her eyes and took a breath before beginning to speak. "Look, Phil you're a great mate, but…"
"Well we know where this is going, don't we," he smiled, sighing a little.
"It's not a never. On the contrary I quite enjoy having you for company. It's lonely 'round here now Abi's left. I just, I would prefer to go slow."
Phil nodded, but smiled knowingly, "You're just embarrassed about being caught starkers on Pancake Day."