Throwing open the double doors, Helen sighed. Pretend there is no expectation, she told herself. Pretend that you are just going out to lunch with your dealer and nothing more. Only after that thought did she realise that that was exactly what this was. It was just Nikola. Sweet, innocent Nikola. All right, maybe those weren't the best words to describe her libidinous best friend but the sentiment remained. It was just Nikola.

Trying to keep that in mind and not think about the way his lips had brought back the memory of every tryst they'd ever had, she scanned the racks of clothes before her. The majority of it was paint splattered and not appropriate for a date- IT'S NOT A DATE, she screamed internally. Biting her lip she reached out and grabbed a dress at random, noting that it was red and nothing else. Carelessly she tossed it to the bed before rummaging about for appropriate underwear. Settling on her favourite matching ivory set (and trying not to think about the way Nikola had once admitted he loved to tear off those innocent looking colours from her creamy skin) she grabbed a pair of black heels and headed towards the bed.

Tossing aside her paint covered outfit, she quickly dressed, mind unable to focus on the task at hand, instead reliving each press of his lips against hers. It was just a kiss, she kept reminding herself, nothing more. Just in innocent kiss. He was comforting her as he had done on many previous occasions. As she had done on many previous occasions.

So why did it feel so different? It wasn't just the distinct lack of alcohol that made this last kiss so very different to all the others. Perhaps it was because, for the first time, they were both mature enough to realise what they were doing. The majority of their previous kisses had been back in college when neither had much (or in Nikola's case, no) experience. Back then they were exploring their relationship, tentatively yes but without the experience they both now held.

Perhaps it was also because, for the first time since they left college, they were both single. Nikola had never really had a long term relationship but, in her final year, Helen had met John and, while they'd had their ups and downs, they'd been together ever since. Until now that is. The divorce papers were all but signed despite John's best efforts and soon, she would be free of him, a terrifying thought in itself. She sighed again and tried to focus on the dress she was still struggling with.

"Damn it," she swore, realising that it was giving her so much trouble because she was trying to put it on back to front. Grumbling under her breath, she stripped it off and, making sure to double check this time, pulled it back on. Slipping into the heels she spun around to take a quick look in the full length mirror. At the sight before her, a foul oath slipped through her lips.

The dress, the red dress she was wearing was the exact replica of the one she'd worn the met day she'd met Nikola. She'd found it while shopping a few weeks back and had bought it to wear next time they had lunch. Which, of course was today. She'd bought it as a joke, a salute to their past, a way to make him smile but now, when she was actually wearing it, it all felt much more important than she'd intended. She glanced quickly at the clock on her bedside table, trying to figure out if she had enough time to change. Then she stopped. Why should she change? She'd always intended to wear this dress to this lunch date.

And she looked good she decided. The sleeveless dress hugged her curves gently, showing just enough cleavage to be tempting but not enough to warrant a jacket and flaring out ever so slightly to end just on her knees. The crimson colour complemented her dark curls and brought out the colour in her cheeks. It was business and pleasure all rolled into one and completely acceptable she decided, steeling herself.

Setting her jaw, she spun around and stalked her way to the bathroom, enjoying the way the flimsy fabric slipped over her skin. When she'd first worn the dress with her flat shoes, it had been more of a way to make a statement than anything else. All those feminists and their belief that a woman should wear men's clothes to show that they were no different to the chauvinist pigs they rallied against had gotten under her skin. She had always liked being feminine and, as much as they may have argued the opposite, men and women, in her opinion were different but that didn't mean they should be treated differently.

Naturally, voicing such opinions had not gone over well with the women in her dorm. Smiling as she picked up the eye shadow from the bench, Helen remembered a particularly wonderful day when she'd stood up to those ridiculous women. Nikola had been visiting her and, when their diatribe had gotten too much to bear, she'd stood up and let them have it. Nikola had smirked and chuckled under his breath as he watched, only stepping in when the colour in Helen's cheeks had gotten to that dangerous level that suggested she was about to throw something. He'd dragged her bodily from the room, bursting out with laughter as they reached the corridor. Not even her fuming glare had been able to stop the mirth that exploded from deep within him she remembered with a smile.

Swiping on her mascara, Helen felt inexplicably nervous. Then, as she grabbed her lip gloss, those butterflies increased. It was just a kiss, it was just a kiss, it was just a kiss. She kept chanting it to herself like a mantra, hoping like hell those butterflies would dissipate. Closing her eyes, Helen let out a deep breath before walking calmly towards the vanity in the corner of her room, thinking about jewellery and not Nikola.

She looked at the pearls John had gotten her for their last anniversary but decided against them. As much as they might complement the outfit, Nikola despised them (oyster pus, he'd often called them) and, if she was going to dress for him, she may as well take it all the way. Wait, was she dressing for him? She wasn't sure but, by this stage, she almost didn't care. Let him gawk at her if he wanted, it wasn't like he'd never seen her in this dress before.

O.K, so that wasn't entirely true but perhaps if she kept pretending it was the case, she might be able to trick herself into believing it, she decided as she sorted through the jewellery.

Then she saw it. Perfect, she thought with as she dropped the barrette back to the table, pulling her hair up into a high ponytail before using the jewel encrusted piece to hold her hair back. It was perhaps the only piece of jewellery Nikola had ever given her but it was beautiful and, all things considered, it seemed appropriate to wear it today.

With one last glance towards the clock, Helen grabbed her purse and a wrap, deciding to forgo any more jewellery considering just how late it was. At this rate, they'd be 10 minutes late and that was hoping the traffic was all right. No tea then, she thought with a sigh.

"Nikola," she called as she hurried towards the stairs. "Shall we take your car or mine?"

She was halfway down the stairs before she noticed him standing by the front door, face turning bright red as he stared at her.

"Nikola, what's wrong?" she asked worriedly, hurrying towards him. He said nothing simply taking a few deep breaths as she laid her hand on his cheek. "Nikola?" she urged. "Do you need a glass of water or something? You look awfully ill..."

"Where, in the name of all that is holy, did you get that dress?" he choked out eventually, taking a few steps back so that he could rake his eyes up and down her body a few times.

Then it was Helen's turn to turn red and splutter. They both stood in silence for a few moments, sizing each other up, Nikola fussing uncomfortably with his pants as he swallowed a few times.

"God, you're so beautiful, Helen," he said emphatically, stepping back to her, stopping just inches away from her body. Helen's hand moved to his shoulder, steadying herself as she breathed in his heady scent.

"I take it you like the dress then," she breathed and he chuckled in response.

"Just a little," he conceded and she smiled before pulling away from him ever so slightly.

"We should go," she reminded him. "I don't think they'll hold our table forever."

"I suppose you're right," he said with a sigh. "Though you do look good enough to eat."

The compliment made her blush and stammer as his hand landed on the small of her back, gesturing for her to head outside.

"Helen," Nikola said, frowning ever so slightly. "I've used that line on you a hundred times but never before have you blushed." They stepped through the front door together, his hand lingering.

"I'm not blushing," she scoffed, stepping away from him in the hopes that her breathing would even out a little.

"Are too," he teased with a grin.

"Am not!" she argued vehemently, missing the laughter in his eye.

"Well, see now you're just flushed because you're embarrassed," he said wrapping an arm around her waist as he led her towards his car.

"No, I'm flushed because it's completely inappropriate for you to be all over me like this," she whined, pushing him away but he only laughed, a deep, free sound that brought a tiny smile to her face.

"Like I said, embarrassed," he commented with a grin, opening the door for her with a flourish.

"Oh shut up," she grumbled, climbing into the low sports car.

He mere chuckled as he walked around the front of the car leisurely, allowing her the chance to properly drink him in. His charcoal, three piece suit was perfection, tailored to his lithe form, the blazing white business shirt only accentuating the richness of the fabric. For once, he wore no tie or cravat, leaving the top button undone, giving her a glimpse of the chest she knew was wonderfully defined. By the time he reached his door, she was openly ogling him with little sense of how she must have appeared.

"Like what you see Helen?" he asked with a dirty grin sliding into his seat. The remark was meant to be flippant but, after all their flirting, Helen's body was thrumming with need and something more. They'd played this game before and Helen knew with one word she could dictate precisely where it would go.

She looked him straight in the eye as she answered.

"Yes."

He swallowed. Then, in the minute of silence that followed, the mix of fear and lust in his eyes made her laugh.

"Oh lighten up Nikki and take me to lunch," she said with a smirk and he rolled his eyes.

"Have no fear sweet Helena, I was only debating whether or not we'd have enough room here in the car or if we'd be more comfortable back up in that underused bed of yours."

Then it was her turn to swallow.

"And while the thrill of car sex still holds appeal, these are new leather seats and I'd rather not ruin them, as delightful as said ruination might be."

"You never change do you?" she asked with a weak laugh as he gunned the engine.

"Never," he said with a wide grin as they pulled out of the driveway.