Apologies for the length of time it took for me to update this!x I've got lots written just no yime to write it up on the computer! Maybe Laura and I should spend less time talking about this fic and me spending more time writing it!

Anyway, this chapter isn't quite as far on as I thought it would be but never mind!

And just for the record I don't own any of this stuff etc it belongs to the wonderful Anthony Jay and Jonothan Lynn!x

Enjoy!

It was almost lunchtime on Hen's second day at the DAA when she happened to glance down at her stockings.

"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "Oh God no! Disaster!"

Bernard looked up at her.

"Whatever's the matter?" he asked sounding concerned.

Hen got up from her desk and pointed at her stockings.

"Look," she said. "Laddered, I can't believe it."

"Oh," said Bernard. "Surely it can't be that much of a disaster?"

Hen gave him a withering glance.

"Of course it's a disaster," she replied. "I don't have a spare pair, I can't go out and get a new pair because I have so many reports to get through and I can't get the train home with laddered stockings."

"Why not?" asked Bernard, confused.

"Really Bernard," said Hen with air of despair. "One doesn't want to get a reputation for having laddered stockings. It doesn't bode at all well."

"But why not?" asked Bernard now totally confused.

"It just doesn't," said Hen. "Good God, I can just see the look on Daddy and Sir Humphrey's faces if I end up with a reputation for having laddered stockings."

Hen sat back down again and looked at Bernard thoughtfully.

"Bernard," she said carefully. "You wouldn't happen to be going out at lunchtime would you?"

"Well um... yes as it happens... yes I am," replied Bernard. "Why?"

"You wouldn't like to do me a huge favour and become my best friend for life?" she asked.

"And do what?" asked Bernard.

"Nip into Selfridges and get me some stockings?" she said with a pleading look on her face.

"Well," said Bernard uneasily. "I don't think... I mean... I'm not sure..."

"I'll type up some of your reports for you," said Hen.

"Well," said Bernard again.

He looked at Hen. She is so frightfully pretty he thought. And she is Sir Humphrey Appleby's Goddaughter.

"Yes," he said eventually.

Hen leapt out of her seat and went over to Bernard and kissed him on the cheek. He flushed bright red.

"You're an absolute sweetheart Bernard," said Hen.

She went back to her desk and took a pen and a piece of paper and scribbled something down. Then she picked her handbag and opened it and took out her purse. Bernard got up from his desk and put on his coat. Hen handed him the note and some money.

"Just hand the girl at the hosiery counter that note," said Hen. "It's easier than trying to explain complex nature of stockings to a man!"

Bernard smiled.

"Now what do you want me to type up for you?" asked Hen.

"Oh no, it's quite alright," said Bernard. "Honestly."

"Nonsense," said Hen. "I'll take a look round your desk and do what I can."

"Right, well, thank you," said Bernard. "I'll see you later."

"Yes," replied Hen with a smile. She watched Bernard leave with a rather dreamy look on her face.

Jim came out of his office into the Private Office. He saw Hen sitting at her desk chewing on the end of her pen and staring at nothing in particular on the back wall.

"Hello Hen," he said. "Not gone to lunch?"

Hen was jerked out of her trance.

"Oh er no," she said looking up at him. "I want to get some of these reports typed up."

"I must say it makes a difference having a Private Secretary who can actually type!" said Jim.

Hen smiled.

"Uncle Humphrey seemed rather upset when I told him I could do all my own typing," she said.

"Hmm, probably thinks it's beneath you," said Jim.

Hen didn't reply but merely looked thoughtful.

"Bernard gone out?" asked Jim.

"Yes Minister," replied Hen. "He's gone to Self... to get lunch."

"He's gone where?" asked Jim who had noticed her slip of the tongue.

Hen bit her lower lip.

"He's gone to um Selfridges." she said. "On a sort of errand."

"For whom?" Jim enquired.

"Well," said Hen nervously. "For me actually. I asked him to get a pair of stockings. Mines have laddered."

She looked away from Jim, blushing slightly.

"Well well you have made an impact," said Jim. "Private Secretary only been here for a day and she had the Principle Private Secretary running errands for her."

"I wouldn't normally ask," said Hen getting defensive.

Jim just smiled.

After lunch Humphrey came into the private office. Hen was alone at her desk typing quickly on the typewriter in front of her.

"Good afternoon my dear," said Humphrey.

"Hello Uncle Humphrey," said Hen without looking up from her typing.

"Bernard with the Minister already?" asked Humphrey, looking around.

Hen looked up at him and took off her glasses.

"He's not back from lunch yet," she said.

"What on earth is he doing?" asked Humphrey.

Hen began to clean the lenses of her glasses with a tissue.

"Can't imagine," she said.

Humphrey sighed angrily.

"Do you want to sit in on this then?" he asked.

"Too much to do I'm afraid," replied Hen nodding to all the papers on her desk. "Bernard won't be long. The Minister is alone, why don't you go in and wait?"

"The Permanent Secretary wait for the Private Secretary?" asked Humphrey indignantly.

"It won't kill you," said Hen, putting her glasses back on.

Humphrey gave her a steely glare but Hen simply shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh very well," said Humphrey, knowing he'd never win an argument with her. "You'd best tell the Minister I'm here."

"Of course," said Hen getting up from her desk.

She walked across the room and knocked on the door to Jim's office. She opened it and stepped in.

"Sir Humphrey to see you Minister," said Hen.

"Oh good," said Jim. "I thought Bernard was taking minutes for this one?"

"He is," replied Hen. "I'm sure he won't be long."

She stepped aside in order to let Humphrey enter. She smiled at Jim, then Humphrey and left, closing the door behind her.

"Where is Bernard?" asked Humphrey.

Jim smiled.

"He mustn't be back from Selfridges yet," he said.

"Selfridges?" asked Humphrey, confused.

"Yes," said Jim with a laugh. "Getting stockings. For your Goddaughter no less!"

"Stockings?" asked Humphrey in further confusion. "For Hen?"

"Yes," said Jim. "Hers are laddered apparently."

Still in a state of confusion, Humphrey sat down.

Bernard rushed into the Private Office. He quickly shrugged off his coat. He handed Hen a yellow Selfridges bag then a handful of change from his trouser pocket. He grabbed a notebook from his desk and rushed into Jim's office, leaving Hen with a bemused look on her face, holding the bag.

The incident passed without a word from either of them.

Thank you thank you thank you to my reviewers (yes including you Laura) I honestly didn't think anyone would read this (apart from Laura) so I was all happy when I read your reviews so this is for you!x

It is also for the long-suffering Laura who has to put up with me going on about both the series and my story endlessly and for helping me up with future storylines. You're the best and I luv ya loads!x

Claire!x