A/N:

Greetings, all. I'm not afraid to tell you that I am still feeling a bit down about Hanssen/Hemmingway. I am not equipped to deal with emotions of such intensity! (That's despite the problems I had with the plot which, if you're really curious, you can find on my Tumblr page, too-kind.)

So, in an attempt to cheer up both myself and anyone who might be suffering from similar emotional TURMOIL, here's the next chapter of the Hanssen/Anna saga.

A gentle reminder that this story is rated M. And a quick piece of advice - if you don't remember who Sven is, it might help to scan chapters 2 and 3.

That's it from me, on with the show!


Anna stood outside Hanssen's office, savouring the last few moments of anticipation. Although their first moment of intimacy was less than a week ago, she finally had to admit to herself, after weeks, months, perhaps even years of ruthlessly suppressing such thoughts, that this was what she has wanted for a long time. And, if she were to believe that one remark of his, gasped against her neck, so has he.

Oh good, no pressure then.

She had had the time to rush home to pick up a change of clothes, not feeling her most seductive in the borrowed pair of scrubs, and was now checking off the mental list to make sure that everything was in order. Anna suddenly felt like a schoolgirl who had been caught smoking on school grounds, standing outside the headmaster's office – not that the idea of Hanssen as a strict disciplinarian wasn't entirely unappealing. As she raised her hand to knock on the door, the little voice at the back of her head screamed at her in wild panic, telling her to stop being an idiot, to turn around and leave and not indulge in foolish-

Too late.

"Come in!"

Every nerve on edge, Anna gathered her courage, pushed the door and walked in.

It had gotten dark outside and the office was softly lit by a small lamp on a shelf at the back, as well as his desk light, lending the room a cosy, intimate look. It was really remarkable, the extent to which his workplace reflected the man's character. At first glance, it looked rather severe, particularly in daylight – sparse furniture, polished surfaces, black-and-white photographs of desolate marine landscapes on the walls. But soon enough one realised that there was more warmth and more humanity to the room than first met the eye. Potted plants were dotted around the back wall, various medical volumes that had obviously been carefully picked by hand were arranged on the shelves, and even the habitual bowl of red apples was important in adding a splash of colour. Everything seemed to have been allocated a place with a specific plan in mind, not one item unnecessary, not one lacking. And at this time of the evening, the gentler lighting almost made it look like this office was more than just a workplace – a safe haven, even a home. It was a thought which, carried to its logical conclusion, made one's chest tighten with compassion for its occupant.

Hanssen was sitting behind his desk in his shirtsleeves (to Anna's delight, still in his waistcoat), his laptop open in front of him, the preparations for the presentation to the Board clearly having consumed his attention for the past few hours. The instant she saw him, Anna felt a powerful surge of confidence. He really did want her. He wanted her enough to break his self-imposed restraint, to abandon his cherished public persona in her company, to stay behind in the office on a wet Thursday until it got dark, waiting for her to come to him. And if there was one thing Anna was certain about, it was that she would make it worth his while. She had this handsome, fascinating, delicious man all to herself, and she was going to have fun.

She closed the door behind her and turned the lock. For the first time, Hanssen looked up at her over the top of his glasses.

"You seem to be taking remarkable liberties with my office, Dr Bartkiewicz," he uttered quietly, in a tone that didn't exactly discourage her from doing so. "Besides, I am rather curious to see where you intend to take me" he continued, glancing at the coat and briefcase in her hands.

Anna smiled softly and deposited the items she was carrying by the coat stand. Oh, this was going to be wonderful.

"Firstly, Mr Hanssen, I have no intention of taking you anywhere."

Hanssen fixed his intense gaze on her, his expression a mixture of desire and wariness. Too bad, my darling, you'll just have to go along with this.

"Secondly, I suggest you switch off that lamp behind you. While your shift has ended some time ago and your colleagues are unlikely to come looking for you in person, it's best not to have too much light visible from the corridor. Your desk light should be sufficient."

"Ah… Right, I rather think-"

"Do it."

Trust me, Henrik. Just trust me, please.

Slowly, hesitantly, he turned around to flick the switch, plunging the room into semi-darkness. Anna used his break in concentration to move closer to the desk, until she was right next to his chair, looking down at him. Having fulfilled her request, Hanssen returned to his original position, leaning back, watching her intently.

"And thirdly…" Anna swung her left leg over his lap and leaned back against his desk, a small movement away from straddling him. Her grey pencil skirt rode up, giving him the chance to admire the silk stockings with black lace tops and the barely showing satin straps of the suspender belt that Anna chose to wear for the occasion. As Hanssen's eyes dropped down to her legs, he inhaled sharply and his mouth tightened into a thin, tense line. Taking hold of his tie – one of her favourites from his wardrobe, the grey one with a pattern of oak leaves – she pulled his head back up, leaning in until their lips were almost touching. "…What's my name, Henrik?" she whispered. He was silent for a few moments, overwhelmed by the intensity of their situation. Finally, he breathed out "Anna…" and moved forward slightly to close the gap between them.

Despite her confident, dominant demeanour, every nerve, every cell in Anna's body froze, not daring to believe this pleasure she was experiencing was finally real, and not about to be interrupted by her radio alarm. He was obviously impatient, immediately seeking to deepen the kiss but Anna used all of her considerable reserves of willpower to hold back, the tip of her tongue teasing him, not letting him get too far. Hanssen's lovely, large, warm hands crawled up to rest on her knees and he made a movement to stand up but Anna pulled back and pushed him into the chair, her palm on his chest.

"No. Stay there."

Raising her knees she moved her legs over to slide them along the inside of Hanssen's thighs, gently pushing outwards to make him spread his legs a touch wider, giving her space. She leaned forward again to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before slowly starting the descent towards his neck. Remembering his most gratifying reaction the last time she had paid attention to his earlobe, she slid her lips towards his hairline, containing herself this time to lightly, teasingly dragging her tongue along the curve of his ear, relishing the shuddered breath he didn't quite manage to hide. She planted kisses down his jawline, enjoying the pleasant resistance of the barely noticeable stubble that had appeared by this time of the day. Licking her way down the surgeon's neck, feeling his warm pulse under her lips, Anna paused when she reached the collar of his shirt. It was time for a slight rearrangement.

Supporting herself with her hands on his thighs, she slid down along his body, feeling his warmth, until she was kneeling between his legs, her next objective in front of her eyes. Her fingers crept up to the top of his waistcoat.

"Must you be quite so buttoned up, Henrik?" she purred in a tone of mock complaint at having more work to do. When the amusing retort she would have expected never came, she glanced up askance. To her surprise, the Swede's expression was tense but not entirely in the way she would have liked. When their eyes met, she felt his fingers wind around her wrists, pulling them away from him.

"I think that's quite enough, Anna." Despite the unmistakeable signs of enjoying her ministrations, his face still somehow managed to retain the calm, authoritative look.

She felt every organ in her body sink down to floor level. "Do you want me to go?"

"No." His fingers tightened their hold on her. "No, I just…I hardly think this is wise."

It was how she feared, then. Doing what she intended to do to him in his own office, recklessly smashing through an entire list of hospital regulations, was evidently a step too far. Still, might as well give it a try.

"That's a pity. I rather thought you would find this set up to your liking – I certainly know I do." Anna smirked up at the Director of Surgery from between his legs, committing to memory the glorious sight in front of her.

"Well, ah…that I unfortunately can't deny." Henrik smiled down at her, covering her hands with his own and pressing them against his chest. It was obvious even to someone who was more used to dealing with inanimate machinery that his heart rate was considerably elevated. "But the possibility of someone seeing us…that is simply horrendous. That doesn't bear thinking about."

Anna dragged her attention away from the feeling of her hands in his – how could such a small gesture make her feel so safe, so protected?

Right, time to wheel out the heavy artillery of cold logic yet again.

"I know. I wouldn't want that to happen either. But I ask you to consider the following. The door is locked. Your shift ended hours ago. No one has any reason to suspect you are still in the building. Yours is the only office on this corridor, and the meeting rooms aren't in use – and yes, I did check. From the outside your office looks dark. Your pager and phone are on your desk so you can be contacted in case of an emergency. I was careful to make sure that no one saw me heading this way."

She noted his slight smirk as he understood her strategy, anticipating her next argument.

"Furthermore, last Friday you were quite content to push me up against the wall of this very office and have your way with me in broad daylight, during your working hours, without so much as bothering to lock the door. Care to contradict me?"

"I wouldn't dare." The indescribably seductive smirk grew wider.

"I should think not. Lastly, I have had rather explicit dreams about your fair person and this very desk, you have been more or less constantly in my thoughts for the entirety of this week, I am running out of both patience and underwear and I would be much obliged if we could get on with it and do what both of us have wanted to do for a while now – shag each other's brains out."

"Ah, you put it so eloquently."

"Any further questions?"

"Just one, if I may. More of a comment, really." The smirk faded as Henrik's expression turned more solemn. "I think you ought to know that I…well, that I haven't done this for a while. Quite a long while, in fact."

Anna swallowed the obvious but rather inappropriate response, Oh don't worry, Henrik, it's just like riding a bicycle.

She took his hands and pulled them towards her mouth, placing a gentle kiss on each one. Looking up at him, she replied, "I don't care. I want you. It's as simple as that."

Henrik's hands moved to cup her face, his thumbs lightly stroking her cheekbones. Anna's chest tightened as she saw him looking at her with a mixture of tenderness and gratitude. "I want you, too" he whispered, barely audibly.

After a few moments, he leaned back again, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"In that case, Dr Bartkiewicz, feel free to proceed."

Not minding his use of her surname in this instance, she wasted no time in picking up where she left off, her hands already back at the top button of his waistcoat. "Don't think I won't," she murmured. Slowly unbuttoning his garment, she added one last comment, her eyes never leaving her work.

"Oh, and Henrik?"

"Mmm?"

"Do remind me to position myself between your legs for every argument we may have in the future, won't you?"

She smiled as she felt his chest rise under her hands with a soft, warm laugh. Reaching the end of the row of buttons on his waistcoat she hesitated for a couple of seconds, deliberating whether she wanted to remove the item of clothing completely or simply leave it hanging open. Decisions, decisions. Choosing the former, she pushed her hands into the space between the fabric and his shoulders, indicating her intent to Henrik. He obliged, freeing himself from the garment and making Anna smirk as he placed it neatly on a bookshelf behind him. Her fingers swiftly dealt with the knot of his tie and she slid it from around his neck, making a point of flinging it indiscriminately to one side. Judging by his look of quiet amusement, the implication of her move did not go unnoticed.

At last, there was only one layer of clothing left. Anna undid the first couple of buttons and raised herself up to press a kiss to the exposed skin, sighing softly as Henrik's hands came up to rest on her waist. She let her fingers and her mouth work together, lavishing attention on every inch of his chest that became accessible with every freed button. Judging by his perfect stillness, Hanssen had neglected to breathe. That problem was soon fixed as her warm mouth found one of his nipples and a long, contented sigh left his body, his head tilted back and his eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. Her tongue followed the trail of his rather sparse chest hair, stopping to draw a small circle around his navel, briefly darting inside. She pulled out his shirt to reach the last couple of buttons and paused for a second before embarking on overcoming the next obstacle.

Anna could already discern a sizeable bulge straining at his trousers and a fresh jolt of excitement coursed through her. Clearly, she was doing something right. With a feather-light touch, she glided her hand against it, caressing the ridge. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Henrik's fingers tightly grip the armrests of his chair. She slowly slid the black leather belt out of the metallic buckle, undid the button, unzipped the fly and gently pulled down his boxers a couple of inches. Her hand slipped inside to lightly grip his erection and free it from its constraints, causing a quiet hiss to come from somewhere above her head. A few light, leisurely strokes were enough to make him completely hard and ready for her. Glancing up to gauge his reaction, Anna found Hanssen staring at her, his dilated pupils making his eyes darker than usual, his mouth slightly open. Keeping her eyes fixed on his with a distinctly predatory look, she stuck out the pink, glistening tip of her tongue to lick the underside of her top lip and bent her head down.

Her own arousal made itself felt with a firm pounding in her groin as her tongue came into contact with the base and she slowly licked up along his hard length. Not reaching the head, she broke off and started again at the bottom, repeating the exercise a few times till his small sighs of frustration became audible. Anna rewarded him for his patience by swirling her tongue in circles across the sensitive skin of the head and then, without the faintest hint of a warning, took as much of him into her mouth as she could manage.

When all she got for her efforts was a suspiciously quiet and controlled release of breath, she freed him from her mouth and glanced upwards to assess the situation. Henrik's head was thrown back, his eyes were squeezed shut, his lips were slightly parted and, looking down, she saw that his knuckles were white from the force with which he was gripping the armrests. It was all too obvious that he was holding himself back, desperately trying to fight Anna's ministrations and make as little noise as possible.

Oh-ho-ho, Big Mistake, Mr Hanssen.

With rather uncharacteristic recklessness, Anna decided that very instant that her one true purpose on this occasion would be to make Hanssen moan uncomfortably, uncontrollably loudly, caution be damned.

It was with this thought firmly in mind that Anna allowed her hands to take over where her mouth had been, stroking gently, and moved her head even lower down. When her tongue flicked out to taste the almost unbearably tender skin and then proceeded to trace random patterns on it, she felt his entire body go rigid and heard his breath turn shallow, quickening in anticipation. Loath to disappoint him, she teased him for a few more moments before engulfing the organ in her warm mouth. Henrik gasped, loudly, struggling for breath, his fingers finding their way into her hair, their pressure letting her feel the delicious tension that spread to every part of his body.

More. Need. More.

Anna withdrew to softly whisper, "Moan for me, Henrik." Once again, she gathered up the increasingly tense flesh in her mouth and sucked.

He finally gave in to her, admitting his defeat in a long, shuddering groan. The low, luxurious voice, finally forced to be employed for purposes other than pithy, sardonic remarks, was making every nerve in her body tense, quickening the pulse of her own arousal.

Eager to secure her success, she let her mouth rejoin her hands and once again dipped her head down to take him in, setting up a rhythm, swirling her tongue all around him.

"Anna…" came another loud gasp.

He caught her on the upstroke, when her lips encircled the most sensitive area. It would have been foolish not to make use of the opportunity.

"Mmmm?" she hummed in reply, her lips still in contact with the skin.

A mere second after she heard the choking sound above her head, she felt a vice-like grip on her arms and was forcefully pulled upwards until she was perched on the edge of his desk. Hanssen leaned over her, his hands on either side of her hips, breathing heavily into her ear.

"Not…yet…" he managed to squeeze out. After a while, he seemed to regain control of himself and straightened up, rebuttoning his trousers with a barely noticeable wince. Anna smirked as she realised that it simply wouldn't do for the Director of Surgery to have his trousers pooled around his ankles. Avoiding eye contact, he reached behind her to rearrange a few objects on the immaculately organised surface of his desk. Her smirk faded, however, to be replaced by a less complacent, more intensely focused expression as he straightened up again and addressed her in his best, clipped and precise Mr Hanssen voice.

"I'd say it's my turn to lead, wouldn't you? Lean back, please."

Hesitant to tear her eyes away from the sight in front of her, Anna obliged, lowering herself onto the desk, taking care to avoid the spiky fish ornament that had so often drawn her attention during the meetings in his office. Watching him towering over her made her suddenly feel extremely vulnerable, though hardly in an unpleasant way, particularly given that his shirt was still hanging open, offering her a generous view of his naked torso. Anna held her breath as his fingers moved to the top button of her crisp, white shirt, lifting the fabric off her skin, so that she wouldn't feel his warm touch until he decided to let her. His face bearing the same look of calm concentration as when performing surgery, Hanssen worked his way down her shirt, betrayed only by his somewhat irregular breathing. His hands froze in mid-air and his lips parted slightly as he realised that she wasn't wearing a bra. Reaching the end of the row of buttons, Hanssen gently opened her shirt, exposing Anna's chest to the cool air of his office. For a while he simply stared at her, his dark brown eyes behind the metallic frames of his glasses slowly travelling over every inch of her skin. Despite herself, she writhed on the hard surface of the desk under the intensity of his gaze, impatient for him to touch her, to do something, to break the tension. Finally, he raised an almost imperceptibly unsteady hand to take off his glasses and placed them on the far corner of the desk. Anna felt a shiver go down her spine when he turned his head back to look her straight in the eye, the lean face transformed by a heavy, hungry stare.

Maintaining eye contact, he leaned in as close as he could without letting their bodies touch, dropping his gaze to her chest and pausing momentarily, as if considering where he wanted to start. She felt his lips just below her collarbone and sighed softly at the welcome attention. Not staying for long, Henrik lifted his head again and pressed a kiss to the top of her right breast, dragging his tongue across the skin. Anna arched her back in pleasure, seeking greater contact with his body, but he was quick to move away, not letting her gain the upper hand. He made her wait longer this time, leaving her to guess where his mouth will move to next. Seemingly in retaliation for her earlier mischief, his head suddenly dipped back down and his open mouth covered the tip of her breast, his tongue licking hot, vigorous circles across her nipple. Anna moaned loudly and her hands darted to his head, burying her fingers in his hair. Lifting himself away from her skin and ignoring her whimper of protest, Hanssen reached up to grab her wrists and pinned them to the desk, letting her understand in no uncertain terms that it was his turn to dictate the pace. Keeping his hold on her, he hovered above her, making her squirm in anticipation. When he finally did turn his attention to the other breast, he rewarded her patience by combining the caresses of his tongue with sucking harshly on the tender nub, before capturing it between his teeth and lightly biting down on it. This drew a series of gasps from deep inside Anna's chest as her wrists strained against his grip. If he really hasn't done this for a while, the man had to be commended on his excellent memory.

He planted light kisses down her stomach, stopping when he reached the waist of her skirt. As she felt his lips leave her skin again, Anna opened her eyes, trying to adjust to the lack of focus, to see him moving back to sit down in his chair. She was perplexed for a moment, before she understood what his intentions were and felt the pulse of her arousal beat more fiercely. He wheeled the chair slightly closer to the desk and placed his hands on her thighs, pushing up her pencil skirt higher and higher, until her underwear and suspender belt were exposed before him. His breath caught as he understood her clever trick and his fingers slid higher to hook onto the waistband of her black lace knickers and drag them down, leaving on the suspender belt and the stockings. Once Anna shifted to help him get rid of the unwanted item, he lifted her left leg onto his shoulder, making it slide silkily along the fabric of his shirt until the rough lace of the stocking top was rubbing against his cheek, while her right foot found the armrest of his chair.

Anna was struggling to believe this was really happening – the very idea was absurd, dreamlike. She was spread out half-naked on the desk of the cold, aloof, sardonic Director of Surgery whose face was currently framed by her thighs and who looked like he was about to-

She got incontrovertible proof that this was all very real indeed as Hanssen turned his head to press a kiss to the soft skin of her thigh, before dipping his head lower. Gently parting her folds with his fingers, he hesitated for a moment – Anna forgot to breathe – before flicking his tongue, once, against the most sensitive area in her body. Anna's hand flew up to her mouth and she bit down on her fist to stifle the loud, dangerously loud moan that escaped from her. This proved to be a useful strategy as Hanssen's tongue picked up speed, the hot, clever muscle lavishing attention on the hardening bundle of nerves, occasionally leaving it to lap up the fluid that betrayed the intensity of her arousal. She had to use every last drop of willpower to stop herself from bucking her hips as two long, elegant fingers slipped inside her, sliding in and out in time with his tongue, before curling slightly to reach the particularly sensitive spot. Anna was struggling to control herself, her stifled moans growing louder and louder, her teeth sinking into her hand, leaving an angry red mark, as Henrik's tongue started circling around the nub, the teasing serving to drive her mad. She let out a gasp from the contrast in temperature as his mouth left her, trying to work out what he was thinking of doing next. She didn't have long to wait as he quickly dropped his head back down, covered her with his mouth and sucked, hard.

A high-pitched squeal came from the back of Anna's throat as she sat bolt upright, the remaining crumbs of rational thought she still possessed reminding her of the need to stop him before it was too late – firstly, the particular dynamic that they had established made her want to match his earlier self-restraint, secondly, the idea of both of them finding release at the same time was considerably more appealing, and thirdly, she needed him inside her. Now. Right now.

"Henrik, stop, stop, stop", she tugged at his hair, urging him to lift his head. A fresh wave of desire hit her as she saw his flushed face, his eyes utterly glazed over, his breath ragged.

She cupped his face, "Henrik, I need you. Please."

He seemed to understand and, helping her lift her leg off his shoulder, he stood up, shakily, to once again unbutton his trousers. Anna reached down to the top of her left stocking to procure the condom she had placed there, removing it from the foil and leaning forward to slide it onto Hanssen's erection, hearing him hiss as her fingers brushed his skin.

She looked up at him and leant back again, waiting for him to make the move, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest. He moved forward to position himself between her legs and sank down until he was leaning over her, his eyes fixed on hers. Realising he needed the final confirmation, Anna nodded slightly, prompting him to push himself inside her.

Silence.

As they stared into each other's eyes, both their mouths dropped open in noiseless gasps, the sensation overwhelming, almost unmanageable.

Neither of them had any patience left and so, without giving her the chance to adjust to his size, Henrik started to move, setting up a brisk, steady rhythm. Anna's entire universe narrowed itself down to the feeling of him moving inside her, of his breath in her ear, of his fingers entwined with hers. He started to moan with every thrust, all pretences of self-restraint abandoned as he surrendered completely to her, to the pleasure she was giving him. It didn't take long for Anna to feel she was getting close, the delicious tension building up inside her. It felt like that tension had been accumulating not since the first time he touched her, nor even since she walked into his office that evening, but since the first time she first felt her attraction to him, however much she suppressed it at the time, and now, years later, he was bringing her closer and closer to release. As Henrik pounded harder and harder into her, she felt the pressure mount higher and higher and higher and higher and with a scream buried in his shoulder she went over the edge, contracting around him, as an incredibly powerful orgasm burst through her body, causing him to lose control completely, following her a few strong thrusts later with a loud, high-pitched moan in her hair, pumping and pumping and pumping until there was nothing left and finally collapsing onto her, utterly spent and breathless...

...A while later, Anna once again became aware of colours, of the distant sounds of ambulances, of his warm, heavy weight on her chest. As much as she wanted to stay like this forever, with her legs wrapped around his waist and her naked skin pressed against his, it was becoming rather difficult to breathe. Her hand reached over to gently stroke his head before making a movement to sit up, prompting him, slowly and hesitantly, to lift himself off her and slide back to collapse into his chair. As she pulled herself up into a sitting position, her stockinged legs dangling off the edge of his desk, Anna paused to admire the sight in front of her.

Henrik Hanssen, the inscrutable, distant CEO and Director of Surgery of Holby City hospital, was leaning back in his chair with his shirt hanging open and his chest glistening with sweat, visibly rising and falling as he continued to try to get his breath under control. His dark, curly hair was slightly damp at the temples, and his lips were parted. But what struck her most of all was the expression of his eyes – undoubtedly exhausted but deeply contented and full of such affection and tenderness that Anna's breath caught in her throat. In short, he looked thoroughly and most gratifyingly shagged out.

They looked at each other for a few moments in silence, assessing with deep satisfaction the effect each had had on the other's appearance. Henrik Hanssen has just made love to me on the desk in his office. The hormones coursing through her system and the emotional overflow they served to intensify suddenly made this seem like the most hilarious, ridiculous and wonderful thought she has ever had, and Anna couldn't stop a wide, joyous grin from spreading across her face. Looking at her, Hanssen couldn't help but smile himself, looking the most relaxed and comfortable Anna had ever seen him.

"May I commend you on your excellent taste in lingerie?" he offered in a warm, lazy drawl.

"Oh, these?" She ran her fingers over her knees up to the lacy tops, enjoying the smooth feel of the delicate fabric. "I'm glad you like them, they're from my favourite boutique in Strasbourg."

"Ah, the French. A marvellous nation." Anna smiled at his playful tone.

Slowly, concerns about the tiresome practicalities of real life returned to her sluggish brain. Now that her mission was accomplished it would be foolish to linger and risk discovery. She started buttoning up her shirt, enjoying Hanssen's look of poorly disguised disappointment.

"Well, Henrik, my work here is done. I should go. And it's certainly a bad idea for us to leave together."

He nodded silently and set about getting his appearance in order as she hopped off the desk onto somewhat unsteady legs and straightened her clothes. Looking around for the missing item of clothing, she smirked as she saw Hanssen holding up her lacy knickers between two fingers with a highly amusing look of mock concern.

"Looking for something, Dr Bartkiewicz?"

"Ah yes, much obliged, Mr Hanssen." She took the item from him, her fingers brushing against his, the brief contact making her determination to leave him slightly more difficult to maintain. Rearranging her messed up hair, she stood next to his chair, trying to think of something to say, some way to let him know how she felt but still somewhat wary of overdoing the emotional intensity.

While she was deliberating, Henrik stood up, unfolding himself to his full height. They moved towards each other at the same time, Anna wrapping her arms around his lean frame, snuggling against his chest, sighing softly as he drew her closer. The blasted evolutionary biology, or whatever it was, made itself felt again as she realised she hadn't felt this safe in years. It occurred to her suddenly that she had almost wanted this more than anything else he had done this evening – just to be pressed against his warm body, and listen to his heartbeat, and have his arms wound tightly around her, and feel his warm lips in her hair as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. Her hands caressing his back, she became aware of the dampness of the fabric under her touch.

"Henrik?"

"Yes, Anna?"

"Do you have a spare shirt? It's a chilly evening, you'll catch your death out there!"

She felt rather than saw him smile as he pulled her even closer to him.

"I'll be fine."

"Henrik."

"I have my waistcoat, suit jacket, coat and scarf, not to mention my car. Satisfied?"

He let out a snort as she slapped him lightly on his back for his insolent tone.

"I am now, yes."

They were silent for a while, relishing each other's warmth. Suddenly, Hanssen spoke to her, as if he had remembered something vitally important.

"Oh I do apologise, I completely forgot to ask. How remiss of me. How is Sven?"

Oh this is simply unfair. Anna felt herself struggling to deal with this new wave of intense affection, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Considering her reply for a few moments, she finally said:

"He is simply the happiest toy dog in the whole world."


Well, *pushes glasses up nose*, I believe the technical term is smutfest.

This is the first time I've ever attempted to write anything like that so, ah, do let me know what you think!

Also, can Holby writers get on with it already and give him a happy romantic interest? Like, now that he knows that his parents loved each other and they both loved him and he's allowed to feel again? Yeah? Hoyyy...

xx