"I bet this is a bit different to your average day at Holby?"
Henry asked, moving around to his desk and taking off his jacket, placing it neatly on the back of his chair.
"You could say that."
Zoe yawned as she spoke, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.
"Have a seat."
He gestured to the sofa.
"Drink?"
He asked, taking a bottle and two glass tumblers from the bottom drawer of his desk as Zoe let herself fall back into the soft leather of the sofa, it creaked gently around her body.
"No...I'm..."
She watched as he poured two glasses and handed her one.
"Really I'm fine."
She raised a hand to decline but he held it out closer to her, his eyes firm.
"You deserve it...you need it after tonight.
She drew In a slow breathe and accepted the drink, letting it sit on her knee while her fingers held it in place.
He watched her.
"Drink up."
He smiled as he spoke but there was no warmth behind it. He took a gulp of his own, sitting himself down on the edge of the desk, looking down at her.
"So, can we tempt you away?"
He asked, taking another gulp. She heard him swallow.
"Hmm?"
She asked, aware of his gaze on her, on the drink she had yet to taste.
"This."
He gestured with his free hand to his surroundings.
"You could have this if you moved over here, your own office, your own team...you're good enough."
He watched her as she smiled and rolled her eyes.
"I'm too old for flattery."
She said, feeling the creeping warmth of tiredness wash over her.
"Don't be stupid."
Henry sipped the last of his drink and reached for the bottle, his words not as jovial as Zoe felt they ought to be.
"Maybe if I was ten years younger."
She yawned again and he shook his head, filling up his glass and holding the bottle out to her, looking pointedly to her glass.
"Drink up."
He said firmly, waiting so that he could fill her glass.
"I really don't fancy it."
She reached out and placed the glass on the desk next to where he sat, he watched her with something resembling frustration, anger perhaps...
He reached out before she had fully sat back and caught hold of her retreating hand.
"Not pregnant are you?"
He asked, his head tilted, his hand encompassing her own, his grip so hard she could feel the bones of her fingers grating.
She glanced from her hand to his eyes, shaking her head as she spoke.
"No...I just don't feel like a drink."
She smiled a faltering, nervous smile, pulling her hand from his and placing it firmly in her lap.
He smiled to himself.
"You're too good for him you know."
He shook his head again, and poured himself another drink.
She looked down at her fingers, the imprint of his own still pressed white into her flesh.
"Zoe."
He said her name louder than was necessary and she looked up, feeling her face flush.
"Why are you with him, really?"
He smiled as he spoke, seemingly amusing himself.
"I'm sure I could find you someone more worthy of you here..."
He looked at her, cool blue eyes watching her with an intensity that left her feeling hot and uncomfortable, as though she were standing naked in front of him and he was inspecting every inch of her. She shifted uneasily against the sofa.
"Well?"
He asked, nudging her foot with his own.
"I think I'd better be going..."
She made to stand but he stood up at the same time, his height causing her to falter and she stepped back, he caught her arm tightly.
"Don't fall."
He said, setting his glass down on the table and taking hold of her other arm too, holding her tight, his body only inches from her own.
She could smell the alcohol on his breath as he smiled.
"I'd better go and find Max, he'll be worrying..."
She tried to move away but he held her fast, seemingly edging closer to her without really moving.
"Why do you think he's with you?"
Henry asked, his eyes looking downward at her chest, her body. His voice was low, a wine fuelled whisper. She frowned, trying to turn from him again.
"We could have fun, out here, you and I?"
He attempted another smile but she turned her head away, feeling him move this time, taking a step toward her so that they were almost touching, she remained still, the grip on her arms so tight that she dared not move.
"I think Helena would have something to say about that..."
She spoke so quietly that for a moment she thought he hadn't heard until he began to laugh.
"Helena's a..."
The door opened as he spoke, both Zoe and Henry turned.
"Helena's a what?"
Asked Helena, her hand still holding the round globe of the door knob, Max at her side, his eyes moving from Zoe's pale face to where Henry's hands held her so tightly.
It seemed to take Henry a moment to realise he still had a hold of her.
"What are you doing?"
Max asked, he seemed uncertain of the situation, he spoke quietly, his hair was flat against his head and there were blueish black circles under his eyes.
"We were just having a little...tête-à-tête..."
Henry let go of Zoe slowly, her arms visibly relaxing as he did so.
"What?"
Max asked, catching Zoe's gaze.
"A conversation between two people...a private conversation."
Henry paused, leaning idly back on the desk and looking Max up and down with amused boredom.
"It's French, I wouldn't expect you to know..."
Henry added, looking to Zoe as if expecting her to join in with his amusement.
Instead she stepped back from him, flinching slightly as she saw him move to take hold of her again before stopping himself.
"Ah...I've got one for you. A French word I mean."
Max reached a hand out to Zoe from across the room, she moved over to him, touching her hand to his, feeling the relief of his body against her own as her pulled her against himself.
"A sabot, or sa-bot..."
Max paused, his head tilted, Henry poured himself another drink, watching Max as though he were an amusement at a fayre.
"A kind of wooden clog worn by impoverished French workers, and as a protest against the Jaquard Loom, which they thought would take away their jobs, they'd throw their sabots, or wooden clogs, into the delicate machinery to destroy its workings, from which we get the modern word 'sabotage.'"
He concluded.
Henry swilled the wine about in his glass, his blue eyes narrowed.
"Is there a point to this...I do have things to do..."
He feigned a sigh as he spoke and took another long drink from the tumbler.
"My point, and I do have one by the way, is that if you in any way attempt to sabotage the relationship that Zoe and I have, then I will hit you in the fucking face with a fucking big wooden clog."