Disclaimer: These two characters are not my property, stole for this one parter they shall be replaced unharmed once I finish, available from the BBC

A/N: My first slash attempt, so invariably it sucks, I got bored, have an overactive imagination and bad choice in music, (inspiration and lyrics are curtosey of Lucie Silvas) feedback loved as always and be honest!

Heaven knows it's time for us
To wake up with the sun
Like a child you kiss my eyes
The tears have come and gone

"Miss Hendrie" Connie asked succinctly at the maternity desk, unsure of why or how she'd come to be down there, curiosity killed the cat, but she wanted the cream, to personally congratulate her protégé on getting into medical school. A minor success in a major world, a score in her personal matter to big up the idea of woman leading the caring profession instead of men. Personal vendettas to be beaten in the process, people, not unlike Mickie to be used as a leg up to the horse, making it ready for battle.

"Connie" Mickie looked fumbled, wearing that same blushing red to her cheeks, slightly in shock at the mighty boss' appearance on her meagre ward, not her ward strictly but she liked to think so.

"I thought you'd like to share a drink with me in my office, I hear congratulations are in order" Connie gave a faint smile, thinking it would be taken as a non verbal cue to accept, her intimidation evident in the midwife's fumbling motions, a pen slipping from her pocket, instinct sending Connie to the floor to retrieve it, bumping heads with Mickie as she too drove down to retrieve the erotic item, nothing simple about that pen. Her flushed cheeks touched Connie's for all of a bashful instant.

"I'm sorry" Mickie whispered "errm I have to finish my shift, we are celebrating in the pub afterwards, you, errm, you could come if you want" Connie was taken aback, normally the idea of drinking herself stupid in the staff bar would hold as much appeal as a night with her husband, had it not been for the magnetism she was feeling for Mickie it would have been a definite no, yet some inner beast told her to agree, let the riotous one live a little

"Yes, ok, yes I'll see you in the bar, why not get me from my office, I'm liable to forget though," her intentions were nothing less than subtle, to get the midwife on her own and let onto her in the easiest possible way that she liked her, well not wishing to beat about the bush, it was more an angry irritating form of lust.

"Ok, well I have to get on now, speak later though Mrs Beauchamp" Mickie sidled off to the gaze of Connie eye's resting on her back, more her backside, but not anyone was willing to let onto that fact.

And now I feel the mist is clearing
And all the clouds will drift away
And there's no chill in the air tonight when
We know that love is here to stay

Light seeped out from under Connie's office door, the mood lights she put on for seductive effect, male or female, same means to an end, to have her frustrations, which ever form they took, satisfied, fill the void her husband was ineptly capable of fulfilling.

Two glasses of champagne sat on the blonde wood table, the pillows on the sofa perky, the music drifting from the computer soulful, marching something to the voice of John Legend. A present from some unsuspecting family member, entire unaware of her liking to his music, too embarrassed to actually admit defeat and drag herself down to the music store to by it, anyway it was by the by, she possessed the CD and was fully intent on exploring its powers, like a coat of paint on the mind, whitewashing its targeted victim, who right on cue knocked at the door.

"Come in" her voice sighed, huskily, deep, meaningful, her eyes locking on the rabbit caught in headlights look Mickie's face wore, clearly taken aback by the forceful situation she'd just stumbled in.

"Connie, errm, they are all waiting in the bar, I just came to, errm, remind you" her voice was stumbling, like a child falling into a pile of cushions, comforted by its soft, womb like quality, suffocated by its overpowering ability to freeze the body of movement, any motion devoid of force.

"They won't miss you, this way you get to avoid the boring conversations that occur pre drink, by the time you arrive Donna and co won't recognise you" Mickie was startled by this admission, it was the crossfire between drinking herself stupid with mates, leaving the staff bar and going into town, or sitting in this lonesome office with Connie, talking about things she'd rather leave alone for the next five years.

And now we're dancing like the dance of the seven veils
every move closer till the moment we lose our selves

"You have got a point" her hand ran through the strands of blonde hair, tainted a shade of gold by the lighting, she could tell this by the meagre reflection painted by the pictures hanging haphazardly from the maroon walls, deepening the feeling of foreboding filling her stomach,

"You are better than them you know, you've got something that makes you different"

"Naivety" Mickie finished that sentence with remarkable ease, her muscles relaxing the millimetre between pain and mild discomfort, her hand untwining enough to make the movements to picking up the glass of champagne possible, her feigning smile a note of acceptance.

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself Miss Hendrie," the register Connie was using in her voice was somewhere between the far reaches of earth and beginnings of heaven, enough experience of life to guide the young and foolish, yet know not enough to make her a power unreachable. The comment tarnished onto Mickie's mind, corroding her sense of disbelief, Connie's point was valid, more self confidence and conviction would be required to become a success as a doctor.

"I don't, I don't quite understand you," her voice was clear yet confused, translucent to this fact, it was the inner being craving some praise, affronting the controlled self, fronting to the world.

"No doctor is made on the illusion that it will be easy, that you can cope with nothing more than a pat on the back, slight arrogance is required for med school, I learnt that the wrong way" Connie smiled from her poised position at her desk, tinkering idly with the champagne flute in her hand, attempting to make herself sound off handish, that her words had not been so carefully hand picked so as to make sense, that she hadn't spent the best part of a bored afternoon contemplating her speech, failing miserably as the intuitive midwife understood perfectly.

"So what I need more conviction," Mickie asked coolly, concentrating on not actually breaking the delicate glass, a situation to rival any previous bashful meets with Mrs Beauchamp, yet the craving to feel her hands was almost worth the pain of glass slipping into it.

"Yes, you do, you've proven yourself to be an extremely worthy candidate now you need to build on the confidence, you are over the whole incident with Will?"

"Does anyone get over something like that?" Mickie shot back with the speed of a bullet that could quite happily have finished Jodi off, years ago, before the fiasco had time to rumble on, finishing in the thunderstorm that brought Will to heaven.

"Point taken, I'm glad you did eventually hand Jodi over,"

"I couldn't let her get away with killing Will, it wasn't right, its all been dealt with though, feelings heal eventually" Mickie resigned herself to the luxury of the sofa, her movements towards that point unconscious until it got to the point Connie was sat next to her, had she believed in witchcraft she would have blamed levitation, it wasn't thought, it was happening.

If the moon will shine for us
The stars will light the way
And your touch is like a flame to me
Burning hotter every day

Speechless best described Connie's reaction, her voice unable to speak, her feelings tormenting her vocal cords as she worked through the options to an end for the situation, a kiss, enough to embarrass her charge and let her know the clear feelings, do nothing and let on about nothing, doing the opposite and leaving Mickie in an untenable position, each with its own consequences, each with its own rewards. The uncomfortable silence between them a raging fire, about to bring the room to the ground if something was not said about it, an outcome less worthwhile than anything.

And now we're dancing like the dance of the seven veils
Every move closer till the moment we lose our selves

Her head turned to face Mickie's, her eyes meeting the spark in the other woman's, her hand clasping the other's tentatively, gauging a response before moving, the lack of tightened muscles a sure sign to continue, her hand trailing up to the shoulder, tiny yet perfect, a post to stop the recoil as she pursed her lips together, moving forward towards Mickie's, relaxing as they touched, collapsing together as reached tongues together, elaborating on the previous non verbal point made.

So we're here together safe and warm
Like a flower opens for the dawn
I'll give myself to you and the rhythm we fall into

Her hands wandered, furthering down the twenty something year olds slender, erotic form, reaching up under the comical t-shirt, not wanting to prise it off quite yet, reaching the lacy underwear contained beneath was a surprise, she'd expected something much less so, a cartoon adorned cotton number, not the quality lace she was feeling now, well not at that instant it was fast being moved, the pressure of the wire pushing them down, her hand fondling them tenderly, teasing at the nipples, feeling them harden under the touch, her own body beginning to be explored, the buttons to her choice blouse being ripped at, the buttons releasing open to appease her own bra, the demi cups being gawped at in astounding astonishment, prior to exploration, the sleeves of her shirt falling aimlessly as she shuffled round to perch more sexily on the leather, the stickiness of her ionising skin leaving her with an odd feeling off attachment. And now we're dancing like the dance of the seven veils
Every move closer till the moment we lose our selves

Her trousers were no long on her body, the thought of clothing on clothing far less passionate than skin on skin, the closest possible human emotive touch, the skins just round one's thighs seeing the light of day for nonchalant amounts of time on the beach or during love making, the former less amusing to Connie than the latter. The mere gliding of a finger up a thigh sending nerve endings to spasm, a shock up the spine, taking the route direct to the heart, shuffling the beats to fibrillation. Her own fingers daring to explore the calming sees, captain the relationship that her age allowed her too, take the control away from someone so young, someone still quivering on that line of sexuality, changing her mind with the beat of a heart, the feeling of experienced fingers entering her seeming so brilliantly right and wrong at the same time, dirtying her virgin like halo, tarnishing her innocent image, but it felt kind of interesting, curiosity was giving her the cream and it was tasting good.

And now we're dancing like the dance of the seven veils
Every move
Every move closer till the moment we lose our selves

The veils were being lifted gently, exploring the intriguing world it was the door too, for Mickie it was opening to half tilt, to Connie it was merely re-wedging the door open, an option available, teasing her sexuality whenever the urge took her, never more than that moment her current got broken, by fingers, by a penis, by anything that could feel a pulse, give a life a spring clean, take it to boil once again, take the self and dusting it down, loosing it back into the eddy of life.

We lose ourselves
Till we lose ourselves
Lose ourselves