A/N: Hello, people :) God only knows how I'm still awake. It's been one hell of a day. Three hours on a bus with my college tutor, who had a broken nose and a bad mood, because the wind was so extreme it caused road blockages and sandstorms. Oh, the joys. Again, thank you for all the reviews you've left - you're all so nice to me!

Sarah x

Hanssen sneaked into the bar, hoping nobody noticed him in case he changed his mind and decided that his first instinct had been right. He heard the loud, upbeat music, and immediately noticed Jac and Serena dancing happily. Jac had kept her outfit plans – how women could dance in those insane shoes, he would never understand – and Serena was wearing a floaty, satin knee-length blue dress, with glittery, pale gold shoes that were equally insane in height to Jac's. They looked like they were having fun, singing at each other along with the song. Perhaps it was better to leave them to it and not spoil their fun.

He turned on his heel to leave, but a hand was around his. He turned to see Serena. "You came," she smiled. She looked over him, taking in his clothes. "And you made an effort," she added, and he saw that playful glint in her dark eyes again. He had guessed from Jac's attire that this was to be a chance for everyone to play dress-up, so he had worn a suit slightly smarter than usual. It seemed, though, that it was not a party of reserved conversation and gentle music. It was a party of loud music, junk food and booze.

Jac was watching from the dance floor as she danced with Michael Spence. She looked slightly too wise as she met Hanssen's eyes, and he didn't like it. "Come and get a drink," Serena smiled, leading him by the hand to the bar, ordering him a large glass of red wine, and one for herself. "See?" she said, taking a sip of her wine. "Socialising isn't so bad, is it?"

He said nothing for a moment, looking around him, his eyes falling onto a rather worse for wear Oliver Valentine, trying and failing to single-handedly eat a whole pizza, mainly because most of it was ending up on the floor. "As long as socialising doesn't involve Dr. Valentine regurgitating his pepperoni pizza on my shoes," he said, and her face broke into a wide beam. He allowed her a small smile, still not comfortable with being there.

"We'll stay away from the youngsters, I think," she winked. "Though I do wish Digby would suck it up and make a move with Chantelle," she snorted when she noticed them. The F1 was being predictably nervous and awkward while the nurse was being predictably enthusiastic and friendly.

"The youngsters?" Henrik repeated.

"Valentine, Digby, Wilde, Chantelle, Mary-Claire, Malick, Jake, although I'm not sure the boy is even old enough. Something tells me he twisted Daddy's arm. Not that he needs it. He could easily pass for eighteen," she added with a smirk. "It's been a while since I could party like them," she admitted.

Hanssen smirked and retorted, "I've never been able to party like them." Serena laughed, her hand falling onto his leg. Hanssen was glad they were in a hidden corner of the bar, and that the room was dimly lit; it meant nobody could see the redness he knew was flooding into his cheeks.

"Maybe you need someone to teach you," she suggested. He didn't like the sound of particular idea, but still she firmly set her glass down and took him by the hand, dragging him to the dance floor.

"Serena," he protested quietly. "This isn't wise."

"Why?" she asked, taking both his hands, trying to get him to loosen up.

"I have two left feet," he confessed. "What is that noise?" he asked, listening to the thumping music.

"Um, Rita Ora?" Serena replied, and it was clear from her disdainful expression she didn't expect him to know it. "Thank God we're not all dancing Gangnam Style," she muttered.

"What?" he asked. What was she on about now?!

"It's a dance," she replied. "Korean guy? Sunglasses? Silly dance?" she tried to see if he knew what she was on about, but he was aware his face remained blank. "Never mind." She just shook her head with a grin, looking at the floor. If he didn't know her better, he would have thought she was shy. But Serena Campbell wasn't shy. Apart from when he had walked in on her getting undressed. And when she had pulled the duvet so he couldn't see her body. And when she had looked at her plate when he explained why he was befriending her. On second thoughts, she was more timid than he had realised.

He carefully spun her under his arm, never letting go of her hands. "So," she smiled up at him. "That was a close one this morning," she said.

"Yes, it was," Henrik agreed, smirking down on her, careful not to let anyone see the softness in him just now. "I think we may have traumatised him."

"It's Digby," she snickered. "He's permanently in shock. You do realise I'm constantly making sure that boy hasn't got the wrong end of the stick?"

"I'm afraid there was only one end of that particular stick," Hanssen replied. He felt her fingers interlock with his, and the eyes of some of their colleagues giving them confused and furtive glances.

The song changed to a much slower, thankfully quieter one, and Hanssen found he didn't know what to do. This, he remembered, was why he never went out. He hesitantly let his hands drop to her upper waist, feeling her hands on his shoulders. Next to them were Jac Naylor and Jonny Maconie. Jac was smirking; when Hanssen met her eyes, he knew she knew.

"She knows," he whispered to Serena, worried that Jac would start the dreaded rumour mill turning. It was an unfortunate fact of working in that hospital that news spread like wildfire, true or other wise.

"She won't say anything," Serena replied confidently. "She didn't like it when everyone started talking about her and Jonny, so she wouldn't do that to us." She inconspicuously touched the back of his neck with her fingers, sending an odd tingling sensation through his whole body. He was sorely tempted to kiss her then and there, but remembered where he was and just how foolish an idea that would have been.

He could feel the heat of her skin through the blue satin as he held her waist. Her smile was teasing; she knew exactly what she was doing. "Having fun?" she asked.

"It's not as bad as I anticipated," he allowed. Her hand slipped slightly, her palm resting flat against his chest. He was acutely aware that his heart was beating harder and faster, and that Serena was feeling it on her hand. "There haven't been any bar brawls."

"Yet," she reminded him, sounding rather cynical. "The night is still young. They've got hours left to get even more drunk."

"You included?" he raised an eyebrow, not particularly wanting to deal with a properly drunk Serena Campbell. A few glasses of wine was one thing. Totally inebriated was another matter entirely.

"I'm being a good girl!" she protested.

"There's a first time for everything, as they say," Hanssen repressed a smile.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, hitting his chest lightly with her hand. "If you don't want to witness the horror of your employees' bad behaviour, we could always...make an escape," she suggested. She smiled as she led him off the dance floor, out into the cool night. "Only I don't have my car with me," she confessed when they were outside.

"So you were planning on getting extremely intoxicated?" he openly grinned at catching her out. He had, of course, known that was her intention, whether she owned up to it or not, but he hadn't said anything because he knew she wasn't going to do that in his company.

"Until you showed up," she admitted. "Eleanor's over at Gabby's tonight. Studying," she sneered sceptically, and Hanssen realised the girl was probably doing anything but studying.

"Is it me being dense, or does your daughter spend more time out of your home than in it?" he asked.

"It's not just you," she sighed; he saw the sadness pass over her face but she hid it well. "But, it means we'd have the house to ourselves," she added, her hand sneaking up to his face as she ran her thumb over his mouth.

"And you're sure that's a path you wish to tread?" he quizzed her, unable to rid himself of the logic he knew wound her up terribly.

"Well," she said. "We'll see."

He smiled and whispered to her, "Get in my car," thankful he hadn't even drank a glass of wine as he unlocked it and got in, making sure she put her seatbelt on. The drive to her home was quiet, but not awkward like their first journey together had been. It was more settled. Hanssen put it down to the fact that she was not just a hard shell to him anymore, and he wasn't driving with a woman he didn't know how to approach.

When he parked outside her house, he realised just what he was getting into now. He proceeded with caution, getting out of the car, letting her out of her side, going through the motions until the car was locked and Serena was unlocking her front door.

When they were inside, just in the door, she closed it, and stopped dead in front of him. He felt her hands on his face, pulling his lips into his. He kissed her back gently and carefully, with more caution than he had ever done before, and he let his arms slip around her waist. Suddenly, she broke away and announced, "I am starving!"

Henrik looked down on her blankly before he just smiled lightly to himself at how easily distracted she was. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to cook," he smirked. "I, on the other hand, am as close to sober as anyone is tonight, and perfectly capable of cooking."

"Scrambled eggs with cheese," she murmured. He had to laugh. He didn't even know why he was laughing, really. Perhaps the slightly immature way she had spoken, or the timidity of it.

"As you wish," he replied, leading her through to her kitchen. He watched in amusement as she yanked her shoes off with a sigh of relief, and wondered why women subjected themselves to it. He turned away and grated some cheese and let the pan heat with some butter, and proceeded to beat the eggs and milk, hearing Serena's light footfalls approaching.

As he started cooking the meal, he felt arms wrap around his body and a cheek leaning against his arm. He smiled at the warmth of her body against his. He wondered why he deprived himself of this kind of affection; it was something he wanted, though he had always been too misanthropic and frightened to let anyone in far enough to feel comfortable with him.

She wasn't saying anything, and she didn't need to. He could feel from her hold on his body that all she wanted was to be near him, although it was something he still couldn't quite fathom; most people tended to run a mile when they saw him. And yet, here Serena was, with her arms around him, and, thinking back, he realised this was the most at ease in another's company he had been in many years.

Hope this is alright!
Please feel free to review and tell me your thoughts!
Sarah x