A/N: This chapter follows on directly from the previous one...
"Do you think we should tidy up?" asked Ros.
"That is a good idea," said Adam loudly. "Such a good idea; you're so clever, Ros!" Adam leapt to his feet and started collecting some crisp packets.
"Not my crisps," Zaf growled, collecting as many packets as he could find and clutching them to his chest.
"I'll help." Jo raced round the room collecting glasses and bottles, and with a tentative sniff she deduced that most of them had contained alcohol.
Ros knelt down and started folding up the Twister mat, brushing away cake crumbs. "Can you help me, Zaf?"
Zaf shook his head petulantly. He was sitting cross-legged on the carpet surrounded by a stash of food ranging from an impressive array of crisps to half eaten mince pies. Ros recalled him sneaking around and stealing every pie he had found.
"How many have you had to drink, mate?" Adam called.
Zaf counted on his fingers. "I ran out of fingers," he said simply, opening a packet of crisps, trying one, and then abandoning them on the floor.
"Coffee, coffee, coffee," Adam murmured.
"I'll give you a hand." Ros directed Adam's hands away from the boiling kettle and poured out the water carefully. She was pretty much sober and now had the duty to protect her three colleagues who were quite the opposite.
"Do you want sugar?" she called.
"None for me," said Jo. Adam shook his head.
"Zaf?" she called, a little louder.
"Four please," he replied. Ros knew this would be a bad idea and stirred only one into his mug.
"Coffee first, clearing up later," she instructed, placing four mugs on the coffee table, arranging them around some empty glasses and nut dishes. She collapsed onto the sofa, Adam following suit beside her. Jo sat down near Zaf: he moved the mince pies closer to him as she did so.
"So, what are everyone's Christmas plans?" asked Adam cheerfully.
"Going to my mum's," said Jo.
"Family dinner," chipped in Zaf.
"Sitting in a bar all day," said Ros honestly.
"Aw, come on, you can have dinner at mine!" cried Adam.
"No, really-
"No, I insist. You are coming to my house for dinner. Have you been before? It's lovely, my house."
"Adam, we're in your house," she reminded him.
He laughed. "Oh yeah!"
Ros shook her head in disbelief but wondered if he had been serious. Her family usually had an elaborate dinner and put on their best clothes and smiles, but after the scandal of her father's imprisonment it became clear that no such gathering would ever occur again. Christmas had been a prominent part of Ros' childhood and that glorious illusion had been shattered so suddenly that she'd never thought of what else to do during the festive season. Adam's offer was generous, and it would be nice to have some company.
"Ros, you owe me that tenner," Adam told her, interrupting her train of thoughts.
"What for?" asked Zaf.
"They bet that we'd kiss under the mistletoe," Jo told him.
"You were betting on us?!" Zaf retorted in disbelief.
"Zaf, the fact that you spend most hours of every day flirting with Jo was a bit of a clue," Ros told him, grabbing her purse and handing the tenner to a gleeful Adam.
"That is not true. Sometimes I'm doing work," Zaf pointed out sulkily.
"I bet you can't go for a whole day without flirting," Adam told his friend with a smirk.
"I bet you that tenner that I can," Zaf replied insistently.
"Done."
...
"This has been a good Christmas so far," said Jo, fiddling with her hair. After Ros had confiscated any remaining alcoholic drinks she could find and unplugged the CD player promptly after Adam and Jo suggested a dance-off, she made her colleagues (whom she mentally referred to as the troublesome trio) a second round of coffee and instructed them to sit down and talk sensibly. Her role felt very much like the one of a headmistress, apart from the fact that she had to deal with far worse behaviour.
"My mum always makes the best mince pies," Jo continued. "Can I have one by the way, Zaf?" She reached out to grab a pie. Zaf slapped her hand away and proceeded to stuff as many as he could in his mouth.
"He's like a child," Ros commented as Jo wrestled with him.
"Zaf, don't spit mince pie on my carpet!" Adam whined as Zaf choked out a mouthful of pastry, crawling across the floor to unfold the Twister mat.
"Zaf, I just folded that," protested Ros, getting up to discipline him. "Sit on the sofa and drink your coffee."
"You're not my boss," he replied.
"I am!" yelled Adam gleefully. "Sit on the sofa Zaf."
Zaf rolled his eyes and clambered onto the sofa next to Adam, sipping his coffee obediently and then pulling a face.
"Not enough sugar," he mumbled, pacing across the kitchen and dumping a whole tablespoon of it in his mug, with a steely glare from Ros. She rose from the sofa to intervene.
"Zaf, you'll be sick if you drink that." Ros tried to reason with him, prising the mug from his hands.
"I don't feel well," he admitted. "Can I go to bed?"
"This isn't your house," she said patiently.
"You're not my boss," he said. "Adam, I'm going to bed. Good night. Bye Jo. Night." He stumbled up the stairs, collecting his Santa hat from the lighting fixture as he did so.
"Shall I stop him?" asked Ros.
"Nah, he can crash here, it's cool," replied Adam.
"Jo, how are you getting home?" she asked, deciding it was time to wrap up this party.
"Taxi, although it's so expensive this time of year," Jo replied. "More people needing a lift after getting drunk. It's ridiculous." She pulled herself off the floor and tried to tidy up again, kicking off her shoes.
After about half an hour, most of the damage done had been cleared away, although someone had knocked a glass of something onto the carpet. Adam was on his knees trying to scrub it; Ros was picking up the shards from a broken glass; Jo was collecting the crisp crumbs that seemed to be everywhere.
"That looks a bit better," announced Ros. "Jo, time to go home."
"Aw, no, don't go, don't leave me!" cried Adam, diving for Ros' feet.
"You've still got Zaf," she reminded him.
"Yeah but he's no fun. He steals the TV remote," sulked Adam.
Ros knelt down beside him. "Go to bed. Drink coffee when you get up. You'll be wrecked otherwise."
"Okay," Adam sighed, walking up the stairs.
"I'll call you a taxi," Ros told Jo, reaching for her mobile phone.
"Ask him out," Jo said solemnly.
"I'm sorry?" replied Ros, feeling unfamiliar uncertainty at her friend's words.
"You and Adam. You both know it. Go on," she persisted.
"You're hammered, Jo, you're not thinking straight. Go home and sleep," instructed Ros, steering clear of the topic of Adam.
"Just... think about it, will you?" insisted Jo, pulling her coat around her shoulders and buttoning it up wrongly. Ros didn't point this out.
"See you soon," said Ros curtly but with a smile, shutting the door as quietly as possible. When she turned around Adam was standing there, looking confused.
"What's wrong?" Ros asked.
"Zaf's asleep in my bed," he told her.
They both burst out laughing.
...
Zaf moved slightly, opening his eyes a tiny bit and peering at his surroundings. It wasn't his flat, that was for sure. The whole room looked completely unfamiliar.
Please don't say I've been hospitalised again, he thought. Then again, hospitals don't let you crash in your jeans and nothing else.
Zaf groaned, rolling out of the bed onto the floor, where he found a shirt that looked vaguely like his own. He became aware of a blinding pain blasting through his head as blurred memories of last night crept into his head. Twister, mince pies, drink... oh, the drink...
Zaf stumbled down some stairs, pulling on the shirt and rubbing his forehead. He became aware of someone else. His instincts kicked in as he reached for a candlestick as a weapon, pressed himself against the wall, rounded the corner and-
"Ah!" Zaf's warrior cry echoed through the empty kitchen. It appeared that there was no-one there.
"Ah!" cried another voice as Adam fell off his sofa onto the carpet. In daylight, the flat was still obviously in disarray. He picked himself up from the floor and dragged himself towards the tap, pouring a glass of water and tipping it down his throat, and then another.
"How much did I drink?" Adam's voice was hoarse.
"Less than I did," commented Zaf, blinking hard and gulping some cold coffee he found abandoned on the side, before spitting it into the sink.
"What kind of psycho puts a whole jar of sugar in their coffee?" he questioned, shaking his head.
Adam smirked. "That was you. A whole tablespoon, I seem to remember."
Zaf groaned. "I was drunk and hyper? Surprised I survived unscathed, except for this..." He held out his elbow which now had a nasty burn.
"Twister. You tripped over Harry's leg and got a carpet burn," Adam informed him.
"And mine," said a voice. Ros appeared from the dining room, carrying a mug of coffee.
"Did you stay the night?" Adam asked.
"Yeah. Didn't mean to. I fell asleep."
"I'll... let myself out." Zaf pulled his coat around his shoulders.
"Take it easy," called Adam. "And Merry Christmas, mate."
Zaf grinned. "And to you both." He swept out of the flat, the door clunking behind him.
"I think I'd better be off too," said Ros efficiently.
"Ros," said Adam gently, reaching out to touch her face. There was obvious chemistry between the pair that Adam had tried desperately to ignore. He felt unfaithful and guilty to Fiona, but he knew exactly what she would have said: 'Don't spend your life thinking about me - I want only good things for you.'
Adam leant down and kissed Ros gently, moving back to check her reaction. Ros was actually smiling, and leant back in-
"I forgot my Twister mat," Zaf announced, stopping as he saw the position of his two colleagues. He shifted silently across the room and gathered it into his arms, only raising an eyebrow as a way of response to what he had seen before darting back out of the door.
...