A/N: OK, so this is just something that came to me while listening to music tonight (I know, I'm strange). The song "Arms" by Christina Perri was sort of an inspiration here. If you want me to continue with this a little, please tell me. It doesn't feel quite finished here, to me, at least.

Sarah x

Hanssen watched as Greg flirted with Sahira at the station on Darwin Ward. She was patiently being friendly, but Henrik could see the hesitation in her eyes. She didn't know what she had to do here. She sometimes flirted right back at him but sometimes she didn't take him on. She rolled her eyes as she walked away, catching Hanssen's eye and understanding that he wanted to speak with her. "Miss Shah," he addressed her when she came over. "I would like you to assist me with Maria Cumming's open heart surgery later today."

"Of course. What time?" she asked him, but he was looking over Sahira's shoulder at Greg, who was now multi-tasking in checking on his patient and glancing over at Sahira and Hanssen. She found this odd, to say the least, that he would be so distracted by anything. She snapped her fingers in front of his face to regain his attention. "What time?" she demanded again.

"Three-thirty," he said. She gave him an odd look; one that bordered on frustration but also held some form of kindness for him. She understood that there was some kind of attachment he had for her, mainly because she often felt the same thing herself. She sometimes even wondered whether she would be happy with him. She watched as he walked away, slightly embarrassed by the way he handled that.

At three o'clock, they met in the preparation room next to the theatre. They scrubbed their hands and arms in silence, both contemplating their earlier encounter. It scared Hanssen that he had let his jealousy over Greg show. Even more so that there was a possibility that Sahira had seen it.

Sahira thought about her interactions with Greg. She didn't mind his flirty nature, as he didn't mean any harm by it, but the lack of respect it showed for her annoyed her a little. He knew she was married, with a family, and yet he still insisted on chatting her up. And yet Henrik, who she knew had some genuine fondness for her, didn't do that. He left her to deal with her family and, though he had no clue it existed, her affection for him. She broke the silence suddenly with her conclusion. "You know, Henrik, I'm starting to think that you might be the only man in this building that actually respects me as a surgeon and as a woman," she told him gently.

He looked down upon her with a tiny smile that made his assurance sincere. "Of course I respect you," he replied. She couldn't doubt the sincerity in his eyes; he really meant that. This was why she had slowly yet surely fallen in love with him. He had some respect for her and did not waste her time by carelessly flirting with her. Instead, he had mentored her, helping her at every turn and making sure she achieved all that she thought was possible and then some. He caught her wherever she stumbled and kept her upright every time she thought she would fall.

His eyes. His dark eyes were bearing an emotion that she had never seen in him before: a strange kind of loving pain. The pain part confirmed her suspicions and the loving bit made her wonder what they should do next. If they had fallen in love with each other, was it really right that they had to hide it and ignore it?

They stared at each other for a little while as they tried to decide what to do about it. Henrik had never expected for Sahira to own his heart like she, apparently unknowingly, did. He had, for once in his life, lost his power of speech. He didn't know whether he ought to be loved by her, and yet she seemed to return at least some of his feelings. Their colleague relationship had turned into an unbreakable friendship many years before, which had gradually turned into something much deeper, much stronger. There was a small part of him that wished that she would just break through the barriers he had built around himself for protection. He didn't want to be without her, but he couldn't hurt her if he was alone.

When nurses and anaesthetists started scrubbing up, they entered the theatre and proceeded to perform the procedure that, in a way, caused their consideration of each other. They had their banter, what with his sarcasm and dry wit and her quick comebacks. She smiled openly most of they way through the operation; this was how she felt most comfortable. More at ease than she ever was with Greg, more peaceful than she was with her own husband. That bothered her, too. How come she had married him when she had had someone who was perfect for her right in front of her the whole time? It all seemed a little backwards to her.

Once the operation was finished and only the pair of them remained, Sahira leaned against the counter and looked up at the ceiling. "Do you ever think, 'what if?'" she asked him thoughtfully. "God knows I do."

"What if what?" he questioned her, rather cautiously. "I think 'what if' every single day, about my past and my present. But we can never change the things we do," he stated in a very matter-of-fact tone.

"What about the things we don't do?" she wondered aloud. It was something that had struck her just recently. There was now this burning desire to let him love her. "The things we really ought to have done, when we had the chance?" She looked up at him, just watching his reaction, to see if he grasped what she meant. It took a moment, but when he cottoned on, he gave a small, slightly sad, smile.

"Some things, we can try again, but I don't think we are one of them," he answered her sadly. She returned that smile with a grimace that she tried to make into a genuine smile.

"Alright," she agreed. She walked over to him slowly, placing a hand on his chest. "But there's something I've wanted to try for a long time." She pulled his head towards hers and gently put her mouth to his. He was shocked when their lips met, but when he regained control, his first instinct was to pull away from her. And yet, his hand only pulled her face closer to his. Why? Why could he not do what his head told him to? And he thought he knew the reason: his heart had overruled his head.

Sahira pulled back and said quietly, "Maybe we can change it. It's up to you." She left him astounded at what they had just done. As he heard the door shut, he knew what he wanted to do, but he could not bring himself to make a choice based solely on wanted. He wanted to let himself be happy, to be loved. Was that such a bad thing? To have that one person who gets behind the defences, to make everything seem a little less painful? But he did not deserve that. He found himself walking after her, ready to make a split second decision. Or had he already decided? One shot, maybe? Let himself be happy at least for a little while? After all, everyone needed to be selfish with something in their emotions, and he had not done that yet. Maybe this was the right time.

Hope it was alright!

Please review!

Sarah x