Once again, I have no excuse for this...

Oh, and for those of you following 'Life Before Life' - apologies. I will update at some point...but for the moment, Hanssen and Serena are refusing to leave Sweden, and I don't have the time, energy, or inclination to force them ;).

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Holby City.

'Ms Campbell…..'

Henrik Hanssen pushed his desk chair back slightly, and looked down.

'Ms Campbell, is this really necessary right at this moment?'

'Yes'.

The irritated voice came up from somewhere underneath his large desk, and he sighed.

'I have some urgent emails to reply to'.

'Well, don't let me stop you.'

She wriggled backwards into his line of vision, and he blinked at the sight. Serena Campbell, consultant surgeon at Holby City Hospital and his deputy, colleague and sparring partner, was on her hands and knees in front of his legs, groping around on the floor with what could only be described as a grumpy look on her face. At least, he imagined it was grumpy. For the moment, that end of her body was still obscured by the desk drawers.

As she reached back to pat the floor beside his chair, he decided enough was enough and stood up, trying to keep out of her way as she shifted further back underneath the desk. He could hear mutterings coming from where his foot had just been – 'Bloody thing must be here somewhere' - and he was almost grateful that the phone by his laptop chose that moment to start ringing. At least it meant he would not feel obliged to get down there with her to help.

'Henrik Hanssen'.

It was Cunningham. When Hanssen had last seen him, at yesterday's board meeting, the trust chairman had expressed a sudden interest in last month's audit figures from Keller, and so Hanssen had been half expecting this call. He had even taken the precaution of moving the relevant paperwork from his filing cabinet to his desk in preparation. Now, without thinking, he sat back down in his chair and pulled open the bottom drawer to retrieve the folder.

'Ouch!'

Serena's face appeared by his calf, her cheeks flushed and dark eyes flashing, and he waved the folder at her in apology, gesturing to the phone as he did so.

'Cunningham', he mouthed.

She rolled her eyes and, huffing quietly, disappeared back down into the dark recesses of the desk. He felt her brush the bottom of his trousers as she moved around his legs, and he stood up again as quickly as he could without treading on her fingers. The thought had crossed his mind that this was a sexual harassment tribunal's dream come true, and he silently thanked the gods – or whoever it was in charge of these things – that Cunningham had chosen to phone rather than stop by his office.

It was a short conversation. After Hanssen had hung up, he sat back down in his chair and peered between his knees, wondering what on earth Serena was still doing on the floor. Surely an earring couldn't be that hard to find?

'Any luck?'

'No, otherwise I wouldn't still be crawling around down here, now, would I?'

He sighed.

'Well, it must be here somewhere'.

'If you'd just emailed me instead of making me come up here and read that report over your shoulder, the damn thing wouldn't have fallen out….'

Hanssen shook his head. He should have known it would turn out to be his fault – but didn't think now was the time to remind her that she had voluntarily come to his office for something else entirely. He had just happened to have the report open at the time.

'It would'. He tried to sound reasonable. 'You would simply be on all fours under your own desk instead'.

He was quite glad he couldn't see the glare that he was sure she was trying to aim at him.

'I don't see you helping'.

'Well, there's hardly room for both of us down there…..'

A loud knock at the door made them both jump, and he heard Serena's head hit the underside of the table as she tried to scrabble her way out.

'Shit!'

Looking up, Hanssen could see the door handle start to turn, and the door start to open…..it was like some kind of comic horror movie, and he groaned inwardly as Serena's head made contact with his knee. Why couldn't people just wait to be invited in? This was going to be too embarrassing to even contemplate.

The Director of Surgery was about to be caught with the Clinical Executive Director's head in between his legs.

However many excuses he gave about lost earrings and reading reports, it would take a very long time to live that down. So, with Serena still struggling under the desk and the door already halfway open, he did the only thing he could think of.

He put his hand on top of her head and pushed her firmly back down out of sight.

'Mr Spence, may I ask what the point of knocking is, if you then don't wait to be asked in?'

He heard a tiny strangled sound from by his knee.

'Yeah, sorry. Just thought you should know that….'

Michael Spence broke off, and Hanssen looked up at him, one eyebrow slightly raised.

'Yes?'

'Are you ok?'

'Fine, Mr Spence, why do you ask?'

He could feel Serena shaking with silent gasps of laughter and, in an effort to remind her to keep quiet, gave her a nudge with his foot.

'You look a bit flushed. That's all'.

Evidently the reminder hadn't worked. A soft snort came from underneath the desk, and Michael blinked, a look of surprise on his face. Hanssen almost groaned out loud. There wasn't much he could say to cover that noise. Except…..

'Indigestion, Mr Spence'.

It was better than the alternative.

Michael's eyes widened slightly at the sudden knowledge that the cold, aloof Director of Surgery apparently got stomach problems just like everybody else, and he felt Serena double over against his leg, desperately trying to swallow her howls. He prodded her again, harder this time. She really owed him for this.

'You were saying, Mr Spence? You thought I should know something?'

'Uh, yeah'. Michael seemed to recover himself. 'We've got a patient on Keller, admitted with kidney failure. The notes say you've treated her before – Anna Hemming. Could do with your opinion on a couple of things, seeing as you know her history - but it's not urgent if you're, uh, not feeling well'.

Hanssen tried not to react as Serena poked him in the calf.

'No, I am perfectly fine, thank you. I have a few things to finish off here, and then I can come down and take a look'.

'Right, thanks'.

Michael backed towards the door, and Hanssen made a point of turning towards his open laptop, waiting until the door had closed and he was sure the consultant had gone before he slowly pushed his chair back again and bent down to fix Serena with what he hoped was a serious, icy glare.

'Very funny'.

As she crawled out, he could see the tears of pent up laughter streaming down her cheeks, her shoulders still shaking with the effort of keeping quiet, and, as she finally gave in to the giggles, she had to put her hands on his lap to help herself up off the floor.

'Indigestion?'

His raised eyebrows seemed to send her into further fits of mirth.

'If you'd just kept quiet…..'

'Well, you should have let me get out.'

'And have Michael Spence see you emerging from….' He gestured. 'Down there?'

She swallowed, and attempted to sober up.

'Point taken'.

She held up a tiny hoop earring in between her thumb and forefinger.

'I found it, though'.

'Oh good'.

'Gold earring on beige carpet'. She gazed at him with an innocent look. 'Bugger to find'.

'Apparently so'.

'Guess I owe you a coffee'.

'You do'.

'And you'd better get going. Michael will be waiting'.

'Thank you for reminding me'.

She grinned, and turned to leave, but paused on her way to the door.

'Oh, on second thoughts, Henrik?'

He sighed, and looked over. She had a wicked glint in her eye that he wasn't sure he liked.

'Lunch might be better. Coffee's notoriously bad for sensitive stomachs'.

Hanssen waited until she had gone before he allowed his lips to twitch slightly, and his hand to settle on the spot on his knee that she had touched. He was surprised to find that he hadn't really minded. And the twitch of his mouth turned into a full-blown chuckle as he remembered the look on her face.

No one was around to hear him laughing to himself. But if they had been, they would have realised that, contrary to popular opinion, Henrik Hanssen did possess a sense of humour.