You guys are just amazing. You really are. You reviews make me cry with happiness! So here's a little treat for you. It wasn't going to go in, I had it written but I was going to keep this first part of the story as a 4-parter, but seeing as you're all lovely, and you are all fond of a bit of fluff (aren't we all?) I thought I'd pop this in too. So, for now, revel in this little fluffy bubble :)

Cheers again lads xxx

It's almost perfect.

A warm, early summer's night. You shouldn't have a care in the world.

She's perfect, she's beautiful, she's yours and she's tucked into your side, safe and relaxed, your arm curled around her bare body, chin resting in her hair.

It's almost silent, unusual for your location in the centre of London and for a moment you wonder if you're dreaming.

No. The tight knot in your stomach reminds you that this is most certainly your reality.

You thought it would vanish, when she came along. You thought she could cure you, fix you.

The realisation that only you could do that is pretty terrifying.

"Har?"

"Mmm?"

Her voice is slurred with fatigue. Her fingers stretch and recoil against your naked skin, a repetitive movement, like a comfort to a small child, it's as if she needs to be constantly reassured that you're real. An attempt to be close to you. You know how much trust she places in you, how relaxed she becomes in your company.

Sometimes that pressure is almost too much to stand.

"What do we do at the lab?"

You raise an eyebrow, moving your head to look her in the eye.

"I'm glad you finally asked that. Well, what we do is this, we take dead bodies and perform medical procedures on them to determine cause of death, now that's called a post-mortem, Nikki."

She rolls her eyes dramatically and bats you on the shoulder.

"No! I mean about Leo. He's angry with us."

You take a nonchalant stance, something that has become a habit of yours, it helps you keep difficult subjects at arm's length. A defence mechanism, the therapist had said.

"It's not really any of his business is it?"

"But I want him in our lives…in our…life."

You stay silent. How does one reply to what she has just implied, anyway?

"Y'know? The life we have…together?"

You decide its' safest to change the subject slightly.

"He's not angry with you, just me."

"But I don't want you to fall out with him, either."

"Why does it matter?"

"We're supposed to be a couple, Harry."

"So, we have to be joined at the bloody hip? Just cool down a bit will you?"

She sits up suddenly, staring at you, an expression on her face a mixture of shock and anger. You think she probably would have looked less disgruntled if you had just dumped right then.

"You're really not taking this seriously, are you?"

"Nikki, I came in tonight to find you lying across the kitchen counter in your underwear. What is there to take seriously?"

Wrong answer.

Before you can register what's happening, she has flown from the bed, thrown on some clothes and stormed from the room. Having only just had time to register that perhaps your last statement hadn't gone down too well, you stumble out into the hallway, nothing more than hands covering your modesty. She's grabbing her car keys and slipping on trainers.

"Oh come on, it was a joke!"

"Yeah, because EVERYTHING'S a joke, isn't it? Call me when you've grown up."

Your face falls as she slams your front door. You close your eyes. Tightly.

...

"Grow up, Harry."

"Anna…"

The majority of your relationship has been conducted by phone, but you know her. And you know she has a temper on her. You could follow her, but what good would that do? No, it would simply make her worse.

So, as your girlfriend is brutally bound and murdered by a stranger, you sit upstairs and smile about the Mother of your child's overreaction to your lack of commitment to your relationship.

Will you ever sleep soundly again?

...

The physical pain of the memory is almost too much, usually it sits in the back of your mind, more like a dull, mocking ache.

You lost her.

And now you're losing Nikki.

Despite an absurd lack of clothing, you sprint after her, down the stairs and into the court yard. Thankfully it's empty, except for Nikki, who is just about to get into her car. Her skin is so pale it is almost luminous, due to the late hour, she is tired. Your heart is beating so fast you think it might explode. Not for the first time since Budapest, you panic. So you do the only thing you can. What you always do these days. You think of Anna. How beautiful she was. How stupid you'd been. What you would do if you could have just one more day with her. What you would say.

"MARRY ME."

You holler across the empty space, into the wind and it echoes through the concrete distance between you.

She has frozen. Slowly, carefully, she stops. Closing the car door, gently so it barely makes a sound, she turns. She begins to walk towards you. You are stark naked, shivering, but a smile doesn't cross her face.

"What did you say?"

"Be my wife, Nikki Alexander."

"But-But it's so soon…"

"Why wait?"

Ever the sceptic, she looks from your bony, pale shins, up to slightly warmer eyes.

"Is this another joke?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

There is a moment of silence. You've never proposed marriage before, never even considered it. But you have imagined it. You had an image in your head of how it would be. This most certainly wasn't it.

"Do it properly then."

"Niks, I've got no clothes on."

"Do it, or it doesn't count."

Giving an audible sigh, you sink to your knee, wincing as the cold and gritty concrete meets your skin. Her smile increases from this moment, and by the time you've taken her hands in yours and looked back up to her, she is beaming from ear to ear.

"Nicola Alexander, will you do me the greatest honour of –"

She doesn't let you finish, pulling you back up to your feet, cupping your face in her hands.

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes!"

You release a breath you weren't aware you were holding as she envelops you in a tight hug. You feel like you should tell her that you love her. You do. You know she knows you do. But you've never said it aloud. Too soon though, the moment has passed and she speaks.

"Everything is going to be okay, isn't it?"

You're not quite sure what she means. Is she talking about the Leo situation? Or your relationship?

Or you?

"Don't mess this up, Harry."

"I won't mess this up. I promise."