So Many Reasons, Excuses For Happiness

He found he was a little nervous once again as he stood there on her doorstep, heart racing just a few beats faster, its normally steady rhythm becoming increasingly erratic as seconds passed by without a single sign of life from within the darkness of her flat. This was far from a new arrangement, these feelings of affection between them, not unless seven months' worth of perfection could be considered new. Yet still he felt flustered whenever he turned up to collect her, a part of him panicking just a little when she showed up late as ever, afraid that perhaps she had changed her mind and wouldn't be coming after all.

She had a way of making him feel seventeen years old all over again, new to this game and not entirely clear as to the rules, making it all up as he went along and having to simply hope he was doing the right thing.

Only she had that ability, only her out of all those he had encountered in his life since reaching adulthood, since shedding his childlike fear. A little of that same nervousness and worry always found a way of re-emerging when he was stood on her doorstep waiting for her once again, or outside their favourite restaurant, the Lyell Centre… anywhere at all.

Though she always came, of course. Admittedly she had an unfortunate habit of being late, but she always turned up eventually all the same. Sometimes he would see her running around the corner, a little precariously in her five-inch heels, cheeks tinged pink, hair slightly askew.

Yet still she would look rather beautiful. Each and every time she appeared, late and flustered, still she would look perfect. That was a guarantee.

Still there was no sign of her.

Harry Cunningham shuffled awkwardly on Nikki Alexander's doorstep, still clutching the bouquet of flowers he had picked up on the way over in his hands. She would answer the door in a moment, he knew that. He smiled a little as he envisioned her, running about within her flat with a mouthful of hairpins, coat draped over the sofa in her lounge, shoes neatly laid out beside the front door. She had something of a talent for beginning to get herself ready for a night out far too early, before realising she had more than enough time and settling down with a book, losing herself for far longer than she had in the pages of a romance, someone else's fantasy. And then before she knew it she would be late and he would be waiting for her; Harry knew the drill by now. A part of him despaired, wondered if she would ever succeed in mastering the art of being ready on time. Mostly likely not, or so he suspected, though that didn't bother him hugely; he could live with her lateness because he knew beyond shadow of a doubt that she was always coming, always, each and every time.

She loved him.

They loved each other.

That was enough of a reassurance.

Three months earlier…

Harry Cunningham sat at his desk at the Thomas Lyell Centre, head in his hands, a definite frown consuming his features as he fought to maintain his focus. He couldn't have been in a fouler mood had he tried, his thoughts consumed with an anger and a hatred and a solemn sense of unhappiness and misery enough to make even the innocent wings of hope amongst a sea of despair and destruction quiver and retreat. This was how Nikki Alexander found him when she came into the office to continue with her toxicology analysis.

"What's up with you?" she asked, picking up instantly on the atmosphere of doom and gloom her colleague's mood had left lingering every corner of the room. She sat down on the edge of her desk and took Harry's hand, watched the slow, sulky shrug of his shoulders with a smile on her face, a gentle, delicate laugh which broke through the stony silence clear as a bell.

"What's so funny?" Harry's response was abrupt, disinterested, nature's warning sign to leave him to wallow in a lake of depression and inability to see the sun. For she was his light and he was the shadows; she was his passage safely back into a place of happiness. Had it been anyone else bothering him whilst he was at the very bottom of a pit so deep of darkness he would almost certainly have pushed them away, but not her, never her. Nikki knew it as well as Harry did himself and she played upon it expertly in her bid to make him smile.

So many reasons for you to be happy,

So many reasons for you to be smiling,

But you're not about to see them, you're not about to feel them,

You're not about to be them- you don't believe them.

"You," she replied, the tone of her voice the perfect blend of teasing him and empathising, her thumb rubbing soothingly against the back of his hand. "Come on, you can tell me, you know. You can tell me anything."

"Not this."

"Why not?" Nikki asked; a part of her a little offended at his blatant dismissal of her offer of help and reassurance and perhaps even a shoulder to cry on. All three and so many more had been held out to him in a gesture of goodwill and caring and yet all had been rejected and thrown back in her face, despite her good intentions. But still she clung on tightly to his hand, these feelings of hurt only scratching on the surface of her heart. She knew Harry Cunningham well enough to know that he would open up to her when he was ready. He didn't have it in him to refuse her for long.

"You'll laugh." That was all he said. But without him even needing to explain to her what there was to laugh about she had proven him right, giggling light-heartedly, gently.

"I'll laugh?" she repeated.

"Of course you will," he said, looking up from his desk for the first time since she had entered the room and brought her radiant beam of light in with her, his mood lifted instantly by the mere presence she possessed. "You are. Clearly I know you too well."

"You made me laugh!" Nikki protested, the look of pure mock outrage present on his face only succeeding in increasing the volume of her giggles. "Come on," she said, pulling herself together and her face becoming serious and caring once again. "Tell me, please? I want to help."

"I've been stood up" Harry confessed, leaning back in his chair with a sigh and pulling Nikki with him along the edge of their desks thanks to his stubborn refusal to release his grip on her hand. "I've been stood up by a blind date. Before we even made it to the first date, actually."

She couldn't help but giggle in response to his confession. It was the way he told it; the look on his face, his attempt to take himself so seriously which failed rather spectacularly and backfired in his face. Once she had begun she couldn't control herself, though thankfully Harry must have seen the funny side of it all too because it wasn't long before he joined her, smiling just a little along with her; perhaps she even heard the beginnings of a laugh escape his lips, though as to that Nikki couldn't be sure.

"So let me get this straight," Nikki began at last, levelling out her voice a little though her tone still light-hearted; an attempt to make this whole discussion as little of a big deal as she possibly could. It was perfectly clear to her that her friend was hurt by the whole thing, though she fought back the urge to pull him into a tight hug and hold him and tell him whoever it was must be out of their mind to turn him down so readily, so carelessly. "The prospect of going on a blind date with you is so terrifying to some friend of a friend of yours that they've had the foresight to cancel? Have I got this right?"

"It would seem so."

"And you're upset?"

"Not exactly."

"You are, I can tell!" Nikki exclaimed, pulling away a little and bringing Harry's hand with her as she did, something deep within her heart not quite ready to let go, to lose the warm touch of his rough, hard palm against her own, not just yet. "You're positively wounded, don't pretend, it's written all over your face!"

Harry tilted his head to one side and looked deep into his colleague's eyes, saw right through the warm hazelnut brown of her irises and into her very soul, her emotions and feelings and thoughts and darkest fears just for the briefest of moments laid out beautifully like the pages of an old, elaborate book, plain for all to see. Just for a moment he saw right into her heart and then it was gone, vanished from sight before he had the opportunity to take in more than the very surface of the first page, and all that was left was a warm, comforting gaze.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked with a sigh.

So many reasons for you to be angry,

So many reasons, it's not the way you planned it,

But all you can do is see them, all you can do is feel them,

All you can do is let them be.

"Just a little," Nikki confessed, squeezing Harry's hand a little tighter. "Come on then, talk to me? I don't understand."

"Don't understand what?"

"Why you're so upset," Nikki explained. "I mean, at risk of sounding completely unsympathetic…"

"It's only a blind date?" Harry finished for her.

"Exactly. It's hardly the be all and end all, is it? Is it really worth getting upset over?"

"I think I might be losing my touch," Harry admitted with a sigh, looking away from the compassionate brown orbs of her eyes.

Nikki came so horribly close to laughing once more, reigning herself in just in time as she examined the look on Harry Cunningham's face and concluding that he was being perfectly serious after all. She was so used to his usual light, joking, humorous approach to everything he did that for a moment she missed the seriousness creeping back into his voice after their brief burst of laughter.

"Of course you're not," she said gently. "This… whoever she is, your ex-date…"

"Ex-date? Is that a technical term?" Harry asked with a smile.

"It is now! Anyway, your ex-date, she's probably never done the whole blind date thing before, just got cold feet at the last minute. That's all. It can't possibly be anything to do with you if you never even made it to the date, can it? Something else will come up, you'll see."

"And what if I get stood up the next time? And the next? And the time after that? I'm not getting any younger, Nikki," Harry sighed once more, leaning back in his chair and pulling his hands up in front of his face, Nikki's still clutched tightly in his left. "Face it. It's hopeless. I'm never going to find love."

"I think that's a little melodramatic," Nikki protested with a soft smile. "I refuse to believe that every single woman you arrange to meet from now on is going to stand you up at the last minute."

"And what exactly makes you so sure of that, Dr Alexander?"

"Because they just wouldn't!" Nikki argued, rolling her eyes at him. "I wouldn't."

Those two simple words escaped from her lips without any warning, before she had the chance to restrain herself, prevent herself from making a potentially catastrophic mistake without even thinking about it.

But by the time she realised, those two simple words were said and done, no going back.

"Is that right?" Harry Cunningham queried, his face finally breaking into the closest thing to a smile Nikki had seen upon it since the very beginning of this whole affair. "You wouldn't, would you?"

Nikki Alexander blushed, her cheeks tinged a rose petal pink as she struggled to come up with a comprehensible answer which might succeed in doing something to remedy a rather desperate situation.

"I…" she stammered… "I…"

"Shall I take that as a yes?"

When she failed to answer, he took her response as a given and continued regardless.

"Well I've still got a table reserved," Harry offered now, rather terrified all of a sudden by this somewhat rapid turn of events, yet his heart happier and fuller than it had been in a long, long time. "Tonight, 7.30? I mean, only if you want to," he said, his grip on her hand tightening just a little, wanting to demonstrate to her beyond shadow of a doubt that he was there for her, that he meant it, that he wasn't about to do to her just what had led to all this in the first place. "If you would… well… I'd love to."

"Me too." Nikki's voice shook somewhat as she gave him her answer, her heart beating faster and faster with each passing moment, a strange, light, warm feeling in her chest that she couldn't quite describe.

"Well then. Sounds like it's all arranged. I'll pick you up at seven, shall I?"

You're lost at sea like a ship without a captain,

Drifting aimlessly around imaginary islands,

The things you're missing, the moment's slipping,

So stop your wishing and start listening.

He had to press her doorbell again before the light finally came on in her hallway and her slight figure emerged, visible through the frosted glass panels set into her front door as she half ran, half skipped, along to let him in. As predicted, even ten minutes later than the time arranged still she wasn't quite ready for their evening together, makeup brush in one hand, earring in the other.

"Sorry."

"Late again?" he teased her, taking the makeup brush from her hand and leaning in to kiss her, before pressing the bunch of flowers into her now free hand. "For you."

"Harry…" Nikki smiled, fixing her earring and taking the flowers from him, reaching out to hug him again. "Thank you, they're lovely. You didn't have to, you know."

"I know," Harry agreed, "I know. But I wanted to."

She smiled at him again and shut the door behind him, following him through into her lounge.

"So what's your excuse this time?" Harry asked as he made himself comfortable on the sofa, knowing from experience that she could well be a while yet. "Lost in tonight's edition of Eastenders, were we?"

"Oi!" Nikki protested, whacking him on the head with the soft end of her makeup brush. "That's not fair!"

"Corrie, then?"

"You know perfectly well I don't watch either!"

"Oh do I? Then what were you doing that made you so late?"

"Thinking of you?" Nikki teased, moving away from the mirror at last and sitting down beside him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Oh were you now?" Harry smiled. "You know, I may well have a solution to this being late for all our dates problem."

"And what would that be, Dr Cunningham?"

"Did you say you had a spare key?"

Life happens, while you're making other plans,

Life happens, while you're trying to understand,

You'll be kicking it in the shade and you're thinking you got it made,

Life is going to happen to you anyway.


Another oneshot, not quite ready to publish the multichap yet. Hope you enjoyed this, and a huge thank you to everyone who read my previous attempt, especially those of you who reviewed, it really means a lot. This one's for Lizzi- she knows why :)

Exxx

PS, the song is Life Happens by Brandon and Leah- I discovered it recently and it reminds me of Harry and Nikki for some reason :) Well worth a listen