A/N: Sorry it's been a while since I've uploaded any fics! Lilypad1, this one's for you, for prodding me into finally getting round to doing it! Enjoy.

As usual, I own nothing, and my only consolation is lots of nice reviews...

Their first kiss, in the pub, that time after the conference, had been startling, sudden, unexpected. It had made her blood sing, made her lips tingle for days afterwards – the feel of Harry's lips on hers, the taste of him in her mouth. She'd never wanted anyone so much as she wanted him.

Years had passed since then, and they'd danced around the issue. They'd both been with other people, maybe trying to move on, maybe trying to block it out, maybe trying to convince themselves that there was no attraction, no chemistry, nothing there. It never quite worked. But Harry had never followed up on things, not really, after Penny had turned up, dead, in the mortuary. She didn't blame him for that; she knew he blamed himself.

So many things they'd got through together… mostly him getting her out of trouble. So many hopes and dreams fizzling away, so many flirtations not being followed up. So many meaningless one night stands to try to forget him. It never worked.

Gazing into space, she wondered if anything would ever happen between them, if it was a fool's dream. Maybe it was, but it was one she couldn't give up on.

"Sorry, Niks, I had to finish the tox report for Leo," came Harry's voice behind her, as he dropped his jacket over the back of the chair next to her. "Drink?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm fine thanks." She wondered if he even noticed her – like that – any more. Or had that kiss been just to shut her up after all?

"Niks?" he quizzed as he came back to the table with his drink. "Nikki? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she lied.

"You're a terrible liar," he told her.

"It doesn't matter."

"We're friends… aren't we?"

"Of course."

"So you can talk to me."

"Well… yes. But…"

"But?"

And he was looking down at her with a mixture of humour and something she didn't dare name, but she couldn't quite find the courage to say it. "I'm being stupid," she muttered.

"Probably," he agreed, laughing as she swatted his arm. "Come on, tell me. It can't be that bad."

She took a large gulp of wine. "I can't. I'm sorry. I…" she bit her lip. "I'd better go." She picked up her bag and headed for the door, ignoring the rain. It was only when she got to the car that she realised she didn't have her…

"Car keys? Always a help, I find, if you're intending to drive home," teased Harry, dangling them under her nose. "You left them on the table. You are seriously not with it this evening, you know that?"

"Shut up," she said jerkily, trying to grab them from him, but he held them out of her reach.

"First you drag me out for a drink, then you won't tell me what's wrong, then you walk off leaving your car keys on the table. Nuh-uh," he said, lifting his arm a little higher as she tried to jump for the keys. "Don't you think the least you could do is tell me what's wrong?"

"No. Harry, can I have my car keys back, please? It's raining."

"So?"

"So I want to get home, have a hot shower, and get into some dry clothes."

"And I want to know what it is that's upset you so much you leave half your drink on the pub table with your car keys and you can't tell your best friend. Guess one of us is going to be disappointed."

"My heart bleeds for you," she muttered caustically, finally managing to snag the car keys from his hand. She turned to open the car door, but Harry was too quick for her, and leant back against the driver's door with an annoying smile on his face. "Harry…"

"What's wrong?" he persisted.

"It's raining."

"It is, but I hardly think the weather has anything to do with this."

"Do you ever give up?"

"No. What's wrong?"

She sighed, and leant back against the car, next to him. "There's a guy…"

"Ah, now we get to it," he commented.

"Harry!"

"Continue."

"I can't get him out of my head. I see him everywhere…"

"Wait, you have a stalker? Nikki, this is serious, you…"

"No, I…" she swallowed. This was such a bad, bad idea. "I mean, in my head. I can't stop… thinking about him. And I… don't know how to deal with it. I…" she was suddenly glad it was raining; he wouldn't be able to see the tears running down her face.

"So you're in love," he concluded succinctly, biting his tongue to stop himself reminding her of its exquisite pain.

"I guess."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"If I thought he felt the same way as I did, it wouldn't be. But…"

"But you don't know?"

"No."

"He's never given you any indication?"

"He… flirts with me sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time. Well, most of the time, actually. He's sweet, caring… he looks after me a lot. He… he kissed me. Once. But it was a long time ago, and… things happened, and… I don't know if… he meant it, or… or if it was just the circumstances that made him do it, or… I don't know if he even remembers it…"

"Nikki…"

"Or if it meant nothing at all to him, if I meant nothing at all to him. I mean, he's got no shortage of offers, why would he even look at me?"

"Oh, shut up…"

"I mean it. Why would he? I've no idea if he ever really thought of me that way, or…"

"…Shut up, Nikki…"

"…Or… or… if I'm just… someone he likes flirting with, or something, and…"

Soft, gentle lips pressed to hers, a hand pushing her wet hair back from her face. He pulled back, smiling down at her. "Now she shuts up."

She blushed, and couldn't quite meet his eye. "You knew?"

"Of course I knew. I know everything," he grinned.

"Oh, you…"

He chuckled, and pulled her into a hug. "What else would you not be able to say to me? What else would make you run away from me, leaving your keys behind so I had to run after you?"

"That wasn't intentional!" she protested.

"Why else wouldn't you mention the name?" he continued, ignoring the interruption. "And the minute you started talking about the kiss…" he brushed her lips with his own again. "For the record, I meant it then, and I mean it now. And I'm sorry that things got in the way. I didn't trust myself not to hurt you like I hurt Penny. And that was stupid of me, because you're two different people, and I'm not an idiotic, scared student any more." He took a deep breath. "I'm an idiotic, scared pathologist." She giggled helplessly, head finding its way to the crook of his neck. "Now, then, Dr. Alexander," he said, opening the car door for her. "About that hot shower…"