Nigel watched Sydney as she skated clockwise with the crowd around the manmade rink. Snow fell gently covering everything standing still, which meant that it didn't look as though it was touching her at all.

Of course Sydney was good at this. Of course. He should've known. Just as Sydney was good at rock climbing, scuba diving, horseback riding, and skydiving, she was also good at gliding on frozen water while wearing blades on her feet.

For someone who hated the cold, she sure looked like she was having a lot of fun in the freezing weather. Why couldn't her idea of a fun activity been something less likely to make him look like an idiot and somewhere warmer? Wasn't there a relic somewhere in Cambodia they needed to find?

"Nigel!" Sydney came to a stop in front of him, spraying up shards of ice. She had a massive grin on her face. Her dark hair fell in ringlets down her shoulders, windswept and slightly frizzy from her laps around the rink. "You made it! How did the exam go?" She sat beside him on the bench, her thigh pressing against his. He could feel the heat emanating off her.

"It was fine. One student asked me for the answer to an exam question." Nigel shook his head in consternation while Sydney laughed at the audacity. He knew they were both thinking the same thing: at least it wasn't one of their students. He had been helping out the maths department of all things, proctoring one of their exams.

"Are you ready?"

Nigel looked at the rental skates he had laced up before watching Sydney on the ice. They felt okay at least. He could wriggle his toes. He sighed. "Syd, I'm not going to be good at this."

"Come on," she said, standing up and turning easily so she was standing in front of him. She held out her hands. "Trust me?"

"Of course," he said immediately. That was a question he didn't need to think about answering. He took her hands and unsteadily got to his feet, eyes on his skates as though he could make them behave by looking at them. Why had he decided to do this, again? Nigel looked up from his feet to see Sydney watching him, eyes bright with excitement and a smile that could light up a room. Right.

Sydney skated backwards, pulling him with her and he glided forwards unsteadily. Sydney didn't let go of his hands as she continued to move backwards, sticking to the outside of the rink and away from the worst of the crowds. People skated by them quickly, the sound of metal slicing through ice in their wake. Nigel began to push back with his feet, each time propelling him forward closer to Sydney who was ever steady, even going backwards as she was.

Every time he slipped Sydney's grip on him kept him upright and wasn't that the perfect representation of his life with her. Not literally – he often fell when he was right beside her – but more in the metaphorical sense. When it came down to it he knew ultimately that he was safe with her in every way that mattered (or as safe as he could be when he was constantly in line of fire from rival relic hunters). She had been a steady force in his life, one that pushed him to do things he never thought he'd do. A whirlwind of activity and energy, she was forever bringing him out of his comfort zone so he could experience the most amazing things. While skating certainly wasn't anywhere near the same thrill he got entering a thousand year old tomb, there was something to be said for the feeling of skimming over the ice.

Just as he was beginning to feel steadier on his feet, Sydney let go of one hand and moved so she was skating beside him, one of his hands still clasped in hers. Without Sydney to buffer the wind it nipped at his nose and stung his cheeks despite his speed slowing down. Still, when he stumbled her grip only tightened and pulled him closer to her.

Around and around they went, talking between Nigel's bouts of intense focus on keeping his body in an upright position. As always their conversation was easy even if it did become good natured bickering, each entirely at ease with the other. He delighted in making her laugh, the sound sending warmth through his chest as it rang in his ears, euphonious as it was.

He wasn't sure how long they'd been skating for when Sydney suggested they grab a drink from one of the nearby carts. Stopping was something he hadn't had to do yet and he was pretty sure that the only way he was going to stop was by falling, but Sydney slowed them down in front of the bench with his shoes and then slid in front of him again so that he simply stopped when his body ran into her now stationary one. Nigel grabbed her waist automatically to steady himself and Sydney's hands came to rest on his arms. For a moment they stood there, their harsh breaths mingling in the chilly air. Her lip gloss was still shiny despite the physical activity and the colder air.

"Okay?" Sydney asked, her voice rougher than usual.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Yes." He removed his hands quickly and went to sit on the bench, momentarily forgetting he was on blades of death, and it was only Sydney's quick reflexes that prevented him from falling on the ice, flat on his arse.

"Nigel!" Sydney exclaimed as he dragged her down with him as he toppled over. They landed on the bench, Sydney straddling one of his legs, her knees on the bench and one of them pressing lightly at his crotch. Their arms were wrapped around each other again, with Sydney bracing herself against the back of the bench. Sydney's hair spread across his face and he brushed it to the side, his fingers trailing across her forehead and temple as he tucked it behind her ear.

Sydney's eyes flicked down to his lips and she moved almost imperceptibly closer, their noses almost touching. He could see flecks of gold in her eyes as they reflected the lights around the rink, the pigments of makeup carefully applied around her eyes and on her cheeks. Every breath she let out mixed with his own, warming the air between them. Every inch of his body was thrumming in anticipation, and he licked his lips. After years of wondering what it would feel like to have her lips on his (he wasn't counting the shock of an undercover-at-an-orgy kiss) it was finally, finally going to happen –

There was a flurry of movement as another person stopped and sat beside them to take off their own skates. Nigel jumped slightly and Sydney got off his lap as though burned.

"Right. Um, I'm going to go…" she gestured to another bench and Nigel nodded, his cheeks burning.

He tugged at the laces of his skates, his mind racing. What was he doing, nearly kissing his boss? What would have happened if he had? Awkwardness between them as they pretended it hadn't happened? Losing his best friend because they had to put up barriers between each other? What if they dated and broke up? Her leaving him behind when she went on hunts, knowing she could often just call him with questions? Losing out on nights like tonight where they did things together outside of work?

What if it turned into something more? another voice argued. He put on his boots, the ground weird now under the solid soles. What if it meant spending more time together? Curling up on a sofa with one of their heads in the others lap while they read or prepped for the next class? Lazy good morning kisses, and soft goodnight ones? No more watching with jealousy as she dated other men?

"Ready?"

Nigel jumped again as Sydney's voice jolted him from his thoughts of fingers trailing over sleep-warmed skin, and he looked up to see Sydney standing in front of him, skates dangling from her fingers.

"Erm, yeah." He stood up rather shakily, taking her lead off the rink.

They returned their skates and made their way over to one of the stands where they were selling hot apple cider, and the two of them walked slowly from the rink towards the carpark, styrofoam cups in hand.

"You skate really well for someone who hates the cold," he said to her as they walked.

Sydney smiled softly into her cup. "We ended up spending some time in Switzerland during winter one year when dad had to work – investors wanted to see him in person or something like that. I ended up learning how to skate, ski, ice climb, snowboard. I don't like the cold, but I like the activities."

Nigel smiled at the thought of a small Sydney learning how to balance on thin pieces of metal and wood.

"I know this isn't your thing, but I'm glad you came."

"Even though I'm rubbish and was hanging off of you the whole time?"

"Even so," she said, "there's no one else I'd rather have clinging to me." Sydney nudged his arm playfully.

Nigel almost choked on his drink. He was suddenly thankful for the cold – it was a ready made excuse for how red his cheeks had been tonight.

"You didn't bring your bike here, did you?"

"No, took a taxi."

"I'll drive you home."

The drive back was quiet, the only sound that of the heaters blasting hot air into the car. Sydney's disdain for Christmas music matched his own, and that's all that seemed to be playing on the radio. He glanced at Sydney who seemed lost in her own thoughts and Nigel had to wonder if they mirrored his own. He was almost certain she had been about to kiss him at the rink and the same thoughts he had then were swirling around in his head mixed with how it would have felt. He had been imagining it for years – how could he not? She was beautiful, provocative, sensual. It was difficult to ignore the way she made his breath catch in his throat when he saw how excited she was over finding a relic, the way the blood rushed south when he caught the scent of her shampoo or perfume, the way he felt her touch hours later. He hadn't been caught in an embarrassing situation yet, but it was only a matter of time when they often ended up pressed against each other in hiding or trapped by rivals, or even sharing a bed.

He imagined lips moving gently under his, soft and pliant. He'd want her to know how revered she was. And yet knowing her as he did he couldn't see the kiss staying like that for long. She was passionate and intense, and he knows that in no time at all she'd be pressing against him, biting his lip and making him gasp before sliding her tongue inside. If she didn't kill him for kissing her in the first place.

He jumped when Sydney stopped the car outside the door to his building, and there was a sudden tension in the air that wasn't normally between them. Nigel wondered what she would do if he leaned over to kiss her. He wished he had the confidence to do it – or even the pseudo confidence of the lancet he had once cut himself on.

"Thank you," Nigel said, feeling awkward. He was very glad she couldn't read his mind, although he wondered if his thoughts were all over his face.

"Of course." She didn't seem to notice anything was amiss but she did seem distracted. There were bite marks on her bottom lip, gloss scraped away, and he looked away quickly before he did something stupid like try to kiss away the rest of it.

"See you Monday."

The moment passed and he got out of the car. Maybe next time.