Holby Christmas party, ropey 90s hits currently playing courtesy of the DJ, drinks everywhere. On the table, on the floor and even in people's hair. Elle was drunk enough to accost someone she'd not seen in a long while, the man who'd appointed her at in Holby all that while ago.

'Your theme song! I haven't heard this in years.'

He turned round to stare down at her, expression incalculable. That bloody Hanson song Mmmmbop was playing, a ghastly noise.

'Not quite. I was made aware of the song when Mr Valentine drunkenly treated me to a rendition on my answerphone last year. I hoped never to hear it again. Instead I am tortured with it in all its teenage glory.' He sighed.

She grinned irrepressibly, feeling a little sorry for him. Poor Swedish beanpole.

'I beg your pardon?'

Whoops. She'd said it out loud. She'd heard Serena say it but she guessed he hadn't been amused then and he didn't look amused now. He remained poker faced apart from a twitch around the eye. Elle wasn't that drunk not to notice. She wondered if he was a bunny boiler. Connie called him the 8 foot double H. Apparently he'd not heard of that until now. Which was because Connie had referred to him as such in a private tipsy bonding session in a hotel room in a game of snog, marry, avoid. Damn she said it out loud again. Connie was right, she just needed to shut her big mouth.

'Sorry, didn't mean to say that.'

'To my face, you mean?'

Elle was starting to think that striking up conversation with the beanpole was a bad idea. No matter how much she liked the man, he wasn't known for his sense of humour. To her surprise, a twitch of the mouth happened. It made him look quite pleasant, more approachable. She suggested another drink. There was a definite twitch increase to a smile right there. She liked it, why didn't he do that more often?

Gin and tonic-ed up, they escaped to a quieter corner. Hanssen hadn't gotten to know Dr Gardner well after he appointed her but her found her rather enchanting. In fact, he could talk to her about a lot of things.

Connie was impressed with the skill that her colleague had employed to catch the attention of the beanpole. Even more impressed that she had coaxed a smile from him and later on, got him stiffly dancing along to Dancing Queen. She was incredibly impressed that Elle had managed to snog him at the end of the night. Even tipsy, her eagle eye never stopped roaming the floor. Jacob chatting up the latest paramedic; Dylan taking it easy with orange juice, Serena and that butch surgeon of hers. Connie peered closer. Not so butch, then. If anything would have floored her, it was the news that her former rival had turned lesbian. She never could have predicted that. But they looked very happy together, judging by the shameless Sapphic bliss. They weren't trying to hide it anymore. Donna could not shut up about how romantic it was. Connie grudgingly agreed that they made a lovely couple.

Holy shit, they were actually snogging. Elle had made the first move as Connie reckoned she would but she didn't think she'd actually do it. They'd laughed about it ages ago after that ridiculous day they'd had trying to get to the meeting but it was never on the bucket list. She felt an irresistible urge to laugh, tried to compose herself but thought, fuck it, I'm drunk. If you couldn't laugh and get drunk at the Christmas party, when could you?

In a few hours time, everyone was going to regret this and it wasn't even new years eve yet.