Thank you so much for all the reviews! I'm glad you like the idea; what with all the fandom angst over Harry leaving lately, I thought it would be nice to have some harmless Christmas fluff to cheer everyone up.
Hot Chocolate:
Why must people die at such unsociable hours, Harry Cunningham wonders bitterly as he emerges from his car into the biting early morning winter winds. Nikki had done nothing but laugh sleepily as he'd complained about this while forcing himself to get up an hour earlier. Next time an early morning call came in, he was going to make sure that Leo assigned it to her.
The crime scene is in the centre of a boggy, muddy field and he finds himself thanking a god he doesn't believe in that he has his Wellington boots in the back of his car.
He meets the detective, a nice chap who looks just as unhappy to be dragged out bed as Harry feels, and they both agree to work as quickly as possible. It turns out to be a stabbing and the field is merely a dump site for the body, so Harry's job is fairly simple while the poor SOCOs run around recording tyre marks and ground temperatures and flattened sections of crop.
Two hours later, when he's chilled to the bone and the sky is beginning to turn that steely grey of a December morning, he concludes that there's nothing else to be done here. So, caked in mud and unable to feel his fingers, he arranges for the body to be taken back to the lab, tells the detective to join him there later in the morning, and heads back to his car.
He peels off his wellies, unceremoniously stuffs them into a carrier bag and throws them into his boot, where he decides he'll deal with them later. Then he slips back into his original shoes, sits down heavily in the driver's seat and whacks the heater up to full blast.
Yawning widely, he fires a quick text to Nikki to let her know that he's on his way back to the Lyell, and then sets off.
When he finally makes it back to the office, after being caught up in the beginnings of rush hour, he's so relieved to be back in the warmth and bright light that he could nearly cry. Upon spotting Nikki at her desk with two Starbucks cups in front of her, he realises in that moment that he could never function without her.
"Coffee," he says as he crosses the room. "Proper coffee. Thank god."
She smiles at him as she hands him a cup and he raises it to his lips. "Actually," she says brightly. "It's not coffee."
He realises this the moment the hot liquid touches his tongue. Wincing, he holds the cup at arm's length and says, "What the hell is this?"
"Hot chocolate," she replies innocently.
"That is not hot chocolate." He shudders and pulls another face.
"Yes, it is. Peppermint hot chocolate," she tells him. He makes a noise of disgust and she frowns at him and adds, "It's Christmas in a cup!"
"It will be Christmas in the bin in a second."
She gazes at him reproachfully. "You're such a Scrooge."
"Nikki. You know as well as I do that I have been up since four a.m. You also know that at this time in the morning, the only thing I drink is coffee. Black coffee. Not this hot chocolate crap. Never this hot chocolate crap."
He's trying to be serious, but she laughs softly and passes him the other cup on her desk. He sniffs it warily and realises that it is indeed a strong black coffee. He looks at her questioningly.
"The peppermint hot chocolate is mine, you idiot," she grins, taking the cup and sipping from it, as if to prove her point. "Of course I got you a coffee. I just thought it would be fun to see your face if it was the other way round."
He gazes at her in shock for a moment, before a smile tugs at his lips. "That was cruel," he tells her. "And I hate you."
With a giggle she says, "I know." Standing, she allows him to kiss her gently. It doesn't take long, however, before he pulls back rather abruptly. "What?" she asks him, as he picks up his coffee and begins to walk away.
"You taste like bloody peppermint," he grumbles over his shoulder.
Next chapter: Snow