A/N: I'm sorry, it just had to be done! :) I don't own them, I just make them have fun together. Please, please, please, R&R. I live for it.

Harry was looking at her so intently that, for a heart-stopping moment, she wondered if he was going to kiss her. Then, disappointingly, he asked, "what are you going to do? Try and make contact?" If he hadn't said it in such a sexy, provocative way, like he wanted to throw her onto the desk and rip her clothes off, she might have handled her next actions a little differently.

She knew his back was turned, and started taking her bra off. Shame it was one of her favourites, in a way; but it could easily be replaced. In other ways, of course, it was a good thing it was one of her favourites. After all, a bog-standard boring white bra was considerably less likely to get her colleague's pulse racing than the flimsy red lace garment now dangling from her fingers.

As Harry turned back with the piece of wire, his mouth went dry. What are you doing? He tried to ask; but his mouth was dry, and somehow, he couldn't make his brain connect with it, in any case, and no sound came out. Besides which, it was fairly obvious what she was doing, he just wasn't sure why. He gazed at her, the red lace – red lace – bra in her hand, and wondered fleetingly if it was part of a matching set. He hoped so. He really, really hoped so.

He felt a twinge of disappointment as she grabbed a scalpel, making a neat incision, pulling the wire out, and realised what she was up to, and he held up the evidence bag as she held up the piece of under-wiring. Bingo. She gave a triumphant smile. "Smart thinking," he commended. Oh, good. My brain's decided to allow me to speak again, but sadly, nothing witty or intelligent.

She shrugged, casting the wire onto the table. "Lucky guess."

"What are you going to do about…" he gestured at the bra.

She sighed. "I'll have to replace it, I suppose."

Please do. Not that I mind the idea of you wandering around without a bra on, but I really, really like the idea of you wandering around in a bra like that, especially when I'm the only one who knows about it… his mind babbled. And especially if…

As if reading his mind, Nikki added, "after all, it's part of a set, so it would be a bit of a pain not to have the bra to go with the thong, wouldn't it? And it's one of my favourites."

"I can see why." Oh, Christ, I just said that out loud. "I… mean, it's a… lovely colour and…" he tried to back-pedal, flustered. Matching thong, his mind rejoiced. Do you think she's wearing it now? Please let her be wearing it now.

He swallowed hard as she slipped off her cardigan, leaving her in nothing but a skimpy vest top. Seemingly unconcerned, she discarded the cardigan on the chair, and reached round behind her head as if to pull her hair into a ponytail. He couldn't help but notice the movement of her breasts beneath the material, the tell-tale points of her nipples. He gulped as she stretched, revealing the very top of the other part of the set beneath the low-slung jeans she was wearing. Red lace thong, his mind gleefully reminded him, though he really didn't need the reminder. He'd be fantasising about it for weeks. Possibly even months.

He tried to look away, but his eyes widened as she ran her eyes over him deliberately, and smiled as she noted his reactions. "You like it, then?"

What? Huh? Like what? his lust-filled brain mumbled, trying to remember what it was he'd last said. Oh, the bra. "Um… yeah," he muttered, his voice sounding unnaturally strangled – which possibly had something to do with the tightness of his jeans.

She grinned at him. "Well, if you're good, maybe I'll wear the full set for you again some time," she said over his shoulder, as she sauntered out.

He gazed at the discarded bra. Was she just suggesting…? Not allowing himself any further time to think, he grabbed the bra and ran after her.