A/N: Thanks, first, for all the reviews so far - I love you all to bits! Second, I apologise for the time at which I am uploading. Thirdly, I hope you're all still enjoying this!

Sarah x

Hanssen sat down next to Serena, secretly glad she was eating something. For some reason, he became more wary of people once they had a drink. They ate together in silence. Silence was something he liked to share with her. He was glad she didn't feel the need to constantly talk, because conversing was not something he was very good at.

She opened her can of Fanta, but it sprayed. Her first reaction was to squeal and push her hands – and the can – towards him to keep her dress clean. He looked at his now patchy orange shirt in amusement. "I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed. She looked down at herself and Hanssen was even more amused by the fact that she had completely dodged the spray. Not a drop on her.

"It's fine," he replied, feeling the sugary wetness of his shirt with an inward laugh. She returned to her food, as did he, and he asked, "Why does your daughter prefer other people's homes to her own?"

"She prefers other people's mothers to her own," she replied, bitterness tainting her voice. He gave her a puzzled look, wondering what she meant.

"I'm sure that's not true," he said.

"It is," Serena huffed. "And who could really blame her? I'm hardly mother of the year, am I?"

He said nothing; he knew what she was getting at, and he knew her dedication to her work made little time for motherhood. He just ate quietly, not wanting to make her feel even worse than she obviously already did.

"That was lovely," she announced as she ate the last forkful of eggs and cheese. "Thank you," she said, standing up and taking his empty plate from him with a quick kiss. He watched her go to the kitchen, her dress waving around every time she moved. He still wasn't totally sure of her. She seemed nice enough, and genuine, but her habit of double crossing still lingered in his memory. She had definitely softened; he gave her that much. He could see yet another side to her tonight. It was a teasing side, playful and youthful.

Hesitantly, he stood up. He found himself standing behind her again, remembering with a soft smile her scolding him for looming over people. She seemed to sense his presence this time, though. She finished washing their dishes and turned around, leaning against the counter top. "You," he said, brushing her to the side, "are beautiful."

She looked surprised at this. Like she didn't know how to take it, and he saw that she didn't know if he was joking or not. "You," she replied, "are lying through your teeth."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't think anyone has called me that before. Apart from my mother, but social contract and all that."

"Not even your husband?" he replied, knowing she was divorced.

"Nope."

"Well, he must have been blind," he replied with a smile. He cupped her face in his hands, wondering to himself how a professionally confident woman like her could have such low self-esteem. But then the same could be said for him, in many ways.

He kissed her gently, and he felt her kiss back hungrily. A soft, low moan escaped her and her arms wrapped around him, pulling her close to him. "Henrik," she whispered, pulling away from him suddenly. "Henrik, I'm not sure this is a good idea." He didn't say anything, knowing she would spit it out in her own time. He just let his arms hang loosely around her waist; he was surprised when her face was leaning against his chest. "I know I could flirt for England," she said, "but I'm really not very good at the whole confidence thing."

He kissed her hair lightly, and he let her try and work her own nerve up. He couldn't do it for her, and he was not moronic enough to try; it was something she had to do herself.

Her hand reached up to his face and she kissed him, her hand slipping around to the back of his neck. He suddenly realised that, though she so often brought out his worst traits, Serena was finally cutting him loose, and he had a suspicion he was doing the same for her. He felt her push him gently backwards, towards the open door and towards the stairs.

Common sense yet again impeded Henrik when he forced her off him and looked down on her. "Are you sure?" he asked her.

"Very," she grinned, taking him by the hand up the stairs, stopping in front of her bedroom door. He kissed her slowly, feeling her hands resting on his chest. He could feel her heartbeat through their clothes – what little clothes Serena was wearing. She opened the door and pulled him in, unbuttoning his sodden, recently stained, shirt, her nimble fingers moved lightly against his body.

He felt around for the zip on her dress, trying to figure out if it was on the back or on the side; it was well hidden. He felt his hand guided by hers, their lips never severing contact, to the side of her chest, where he found a tiny piece of metal.

He was momentarily startled when her fingers found the scar on his abdomen; he was relieved when she said nothing of it. He felt her trying to wriggle free of her dress in his arms. She lost her balance, knocking him flat onto the bed, her body unceremoniously sprawled across his. She broke their kiss to laugh, "Sorry!"

"It's perfectly alright," he grinned, pulling her back down to him.

When Hanssen woke the next morning he was slightly disconcerted by his surroundings; this most definitely was not his bedroom. He turned over to find a sleeping Serena Campbell, and smiled at the memory of how he ended up here. It amazed him to find that he did not regret it. But he wasn't going to let her know that. There was still a niggling doubt in his mind that the woman sleeping next to him was nothing more than an exceptional actress and felt nothing for him, and was merely trying to get at him.

That doubt, however, shrank with every time he rediscovered it. He reminded himself that she would not have compromised her own security to hurt him. He had seen her at her most vulnerable. She would never have allowed him to see that part of her had she not held some feeling of affection for him. Actually, she would never have exposed herself had she not wanted to let him in.

She stirred, and when she opened her eyes, it was with a brief look of mild shock. "Good morning," she said.

"Good morning," he replied, smirking to himself. There was no way she was acting. He was sure of it. Her face betrayed emotion; confusion, spirit, doubt...she wasn't putting it on for show.

They just lay there for a few minutes in silence. Henrik wondered where they would take whatever they had started. They couldn't very well let anyone know, could they? Though, from the knowing look on the woman's face last night, Hanssen was convinced Jac had worked it out.

"Henrik," Serena said; he heard the caution in her voice. She was about to ask something she wasn't sure she had a right to ask. "On your abdomen. The scar. How did you get that one?"

He sighed. He had tried to stop anyone from knowing about this. It involved too much politics from the past, and it was a time he didn't want to revisit. "Richie Mooney's son," he said quietly. "Do you remember I issued a public apology?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Watched it with Ric in the Keller staffroom."

"Earlier that day," he began, "the boy took me hostage in his works van. He was throwing quite the temper tantrum, though it was to be expected, of course. When he finally saw fit to let me go, I asked him to give me his nail gun. He would not give it willingly so I attempted to take it by force. It all happened in a flash, but the bottom line was the he shot a nail into me."

"And you didn't think to tell anyone?" Serena raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed by the way he had handled that situation. "You can can be such a bloody idiot sometimes," she groaned. "Why didn't you get someone to help you stitch it up? Doing it yourself can't have been fun."

"Panic was the last thing I wanted to cause," he told her honestly.

"Why didn't you call me?" she demanded. "I wouldn't have told anyone. You know that."

"I do now," he smiled lightly at her. "But you have to admit, we weren't exactly the best of friends at that point, were we?"

"You kicked me down to AAU," she accused.

"Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"First, I thought you needed to be taught a lesson," he retorted, and she didn't bother denying the truth in that statement. She knew as well as he did that she crossed the line. "Second, I was sick to the back teeth of you and Michael Spence being at each other's throats, so I gave you no choice but to get along. And thirdly, I thought the both of you could use each other's company. I don't know if you had noticed, but Michael is a very lonely man."

"Of course I noticed," she returned. "Christmas was hell for him. Annalese decided he wasn't getting to see his kids."

"That was nice of her," Henrik sarcastically sneered. He knew that Michael, unlike himself, desperately wanted his children around and, although the man irritated him, he thought what Annalese did was unfair.

"I have a feeling that woman would drive me mad," Serena admitted with a smile.

"Serena, the whole world drives you mad," he reminded her. She laughed and leaned in to kiss him. So she didn't regret their night together either then. That was reassuring to know. Her arm had slipped around his body, her hand in his hair.

He broke away from her, asking for what felt the hundredth time, "Is it wise to embark on...whatever this is going to be?"
"I don't know," she confessed. "What matters is whether we are happy, not if everyone else is," she informed him, her voice taking on a layer of strictness he hadn't expected.

He didn't say anything to her. It was all the answer she would have needed when he put her lips to hers, pulling her close. "What happened to the Henrik Hanssen who hates to be touched?" she teased.

He brushed her hair away from her face, meeting her dark eyes for a moment, knowing he was taking the joking remark too seriously. He did see the point; he had rarely allowed anyone to touch him if it could be avoided, and only really touched others in a professional light. Yet he had allowed Serena to hug him, kiss him, even sleep with him. Not only had he allowed it, but he had willingly reciprocated it, going against everything he had taught himself.

He kissed her and said, "You happened." She smiled and kissed him passionately. He didn't quite understand what had brought about that sudden display of desire but returned it nonetheless, allowing her to take control of him. She didn't seem to realise that by taking control, she was also giving him freedom, because he felt confident enough to seize it. She was giving him the ability to take the liberation he had never saw himself finding again, until the night he had allowed Serena Campbell into his home and let her find a way into his heart.

Hope this is OK!
Please feel free to review and tell me what you think!
Sarah x