Something, Silent Witness fanfiction, 1/5
Title: Something
Rating: T
Summary: H/N fluff, on a conference in Scotland.
Chapter One
“…Ladies and gentlemen… I am pleased to announce that we have arrived safely in Edinburgh airport a few minutes ahead of schedule. If you could please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened until the plane has come to a complete standstill and the seatbelt sign is off… thank you…”
Harry Cunningham turns his head to look at the woman next to him, curled up as much as she could with the restraint of the seat-belt, head leaning against the hard, smooth interior of the plane, blonde curls falling in front of her face, obscuring her from his view. She hadn’t exactly been the most talkative of company during the flight, having settled herself, using his coat as a pillow - which had long since fallen to her side - to sleep almost the second after the cabin crews’ slightly half-hearted safety talk had finished. He doesn’t blame her, not really… they’d had another tiring day at work, and Leo had hardly given them time to breathe before dropping them off at the airport for the Annual Pathology Conference - someone had clearly had the bright idea of holding it in Edinburgh this year.
“Nikki…” he breathes, leaning towards her, putting a hand on her shoulder lightly. “We’re there…”
Eyelids flicker open slowly, and she looks up at him through bleary eyes, a confused frown quickly replaced by a small smile, and for a second, so quick he almost doesn’t realise it himself, he’s loathe to pull back, because he can just about smell her, that perfume he makes a mental note to buy her next Christmas, show his appreciation.
“Time?” she’s clearly only awake enough for one-word sentences.
He checks his watch, “Just gone six…” as the seatbelt light dims and there’s that irrational rush for everyone on the aeroplane to get out of their seats and push towards the doors. He unhooks his seatbelt and stands up slowly, stretching his legs, offering a grateful side-thought that it was only a short flight. As he opens the overhead compartment, pulling his own briefcase and Nikki’s bag down, he glances down at his colleague. She’s rubbing the sleep from her eyes, tucking her hair behind her ears, and he smiles slightly to himself for a moment.
“Have I got something on my face?” she cocks an eyebrow, never one to miss a trick. Harry frowns.
“What?”
“That look you’re giving me…”
The smile widens slightly, subconsciously, and he gestures, eyes glinting, to the corner of his own mouth. “You’ve got a little dribble…” he laughs, giving her a wink. She pouts slightly and tries to stretch her leg out to kick him, futilely as he takes a teasing step backwards, the grin stretching to his whole face.
For that, she doesn’t tell him he’s still carrying her handbag until they’re halfway across the tarmac and he’s getting a few funny looks… she half-skips to keep up with him, tugging the bag from his arm and giving him that smile that he thinks looks like the sun shines out of her eyes, and never fails to make the corners of his own mouth turn up.
He nudges her with his elbow as they stand waiting for their suitcases, and she gives him a shove back with her hip… his case comes round first and he gives her a decidedly childish smirk in triumph. When they have both finally gotten control of their luggage, as well as control of their own behaviour, it seems, they pull their respective suitcases down the unnecessarily long walkway towards the car hire. Nikki, having made the decidedly uneducated decision to bring a non pull-along case, struggles along the tarmac, the suitcase banging against her right calf every few seconds. Harry turns from where he’s effortlessly pulling his own case, giving her a satisfied smirk for a moment, before stopping to let her catch up.
“Want to swap bags?”
She gives him a scathing look. “I’m just fine, thank you.”
He can’t help chuckling to himself as he hangs back to walk beside her, watching her bump the case against her leg periodically, and her facial expressions shift through various levels of pain, fatigue and annoyance.
The car is of course the farthest from the terminal, and by the time they’ve checked in at the desk and Nikki has taken the keys firmly from the smiling clerk - I booked the car, Harry, I’m driving - dusk has settled around them, and it’s nearer night than day.
She at least lets him heave the suitcase into the boot of the silver hire car, giving him what might just pass as a grateful smile if he squints.
He loads his own suitcase on top of Nikki’s, unzipping the front to safely stow their paperwork away… his previous track record, and hers especially gives him no confidence that they will get through the conference without losing something essential to their flight home.
When he climbs into the passenger seat, colourful language is coming out of her mouth as she makes a futile attempt to prod the Tom-Tom into submission.
“Fucking shit bastard…” she’s hissing, and he can’t help another laugh. If looks could kill, her glance that follows would have had him bleeding out on the floor, and he bites his tongue and watches in silent amusement as she has her battle with the technology, which seems to be refusing to stay on for more than four seconds at a time.
“Uh… Nikki?”
Eyebrows raised, she turns on him, “Think you could do it better?” her tone drips with sarcasm somewhere on the line between humour and actual irritation.
“You need to plug it in…”
Another repertoire of curses escapes those perfect, ladylike lips, and he nudges her slightly with his shoulder, bringing a reluctant smile to her face.
“Shut up.” She hisses, although he isn’t saying a word.
As they finally pull out of the car park, Harry breathes a sigh of relief. They’d had a slight battle with getting the seat into a more upright position, with locating the full beam, and with figuring out how to clear the back windscreen, but as Nikki puts the car into gear it splutters into life in an altogether convincing manner. The Tom-Tom illuminates on the windscreen, directing them for 26 minutes to a hotel somewhere, which Leo had booked. Nikki hasn’t cursed in the last five minutes, and she’s starting to hum along to the radio - Harry believes he may have escaped murder for another day, at least.
Bloody conference.
They’ve just finished a particularly harrowing case - a Jack-the-Ripper copycat serial killer murdering young prostitutes in the East End - and with Janet in the last month of her pregnancy, Leo hadn’t been as involved as usual, leaving the two of them to shoulder most of the weight. That’s also their boss’ excuse for sending them in his place to the annual conference, despite their constant complaining about the type of people they have the pleasure to meet there every year.
So here they are, Nikki just pulling onto the bypass and putting her foot on the gas, Harry tapping his fingers absent-mindedly against the top of the window in time to the radio, a frown on his face.
“Cheer up.” Nikki smiles, glancing at his face, “We can always skip the afternoon lectures…”
He gives her the flash of a smile, and she knows they’re both remembering another conference that was so completely thrilling they decided to go AWOL in the afternoon. Another conference - where they’d ended up running through a thunderstorm and taking refuge in a pub… And they both know how that had ended.
The silence hangs in the air, but it’s not uncomfortable.
Please review, I’d love to hear your feedback.
Rating: T
Summary: H/N fluff, on a conference in Scotland.
Chapter One
“…Ladies and gentlemen… I am pleased to announce that we have arrived safely in Edinburgh airport a few minutes ahead of schedule. If you could please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened until the plane has come to a complete standstill and the seatbelt sign is off… thank you…”
Harry Cunningham turns his head to look at the woman next to him, curled up as much as she could with the restraint of the seat-belt, head leaning against the hard, smooth interior of the plane, blonde curls falling in front of her face, obscuring her from his view. She hadn’t exactly been the most talkative of company during the flight, having settled herself, using his coat as a pillow - which had long since fallen to her side - to sleep almost the second after the cabin crews’ slightly half-hearted safety talk had finished. He doesn’t blame her, not really… they’d had another tiring day at work, and Leo had hardly given them time to breathe before dropping them off at the airport for the Annual Pathology Conference - someone had clearly had the bright idea of holding it in Edinburgh this year.
“Nikki…” he breathes, leaning towards her, putting a hand on her shoulder lightly. “We’re there…”
Eyelids flicker open slowly, and she looks up at him through bleary eyes, a confused frown quickly replaced by a small smile, and for a second, so quick he almost doesn’t realise it himself, he’s loathe to pull back, because he can just about smell her, that perfume he makes a mental note to buy her next Christmas, show his appreciation.
“Time?” she’s clearly only awake enough for one-word sentences.
He checks his watch, “Just gone six…” as the seatbelt light dims and there’s that irrational rush for everyone on the aeroplane to get out of their seats and push towards the doors. He unhooks his seatbelt and stands up slowly, stretching his legs, offering a grateful side-thought that it was only a short flight. As he opens the overhead compartment, pulling his own briefcase and Nikki’s bag down, he glances down at his colleague. She’s rubbing the sleep from her eyes, tucking her hair behind her ears, and he smiles slightly to himself for a moment.
“Have I got something on my face?” she cocks an eyebrow, never one to miss a trick. Harry frowns.
“What?”
“That look you’re giving me…”
The smile widens slightly, subconsciously, and he gestures, eyes glinting, to the corner of his own mouth. “You’ve got a little dribble…” he laughs, giving her a wink. She pouts slightly and tries to stretch her leg out to kick him, futilely as he takes a teasing step backwards, the grin stretching to his whole face.
For that, she doesn’t tell him he’s still carrying her handbag until they’re halfway across the tarmac and he’s getting a few funny looks… she half-skips to keep up with him, tugging the bag from his arm and giving him that smile that he thinks looks like the sun shines out of her eyes, and never fails to make the corners of his own mouth turn up.
He nudges her with his elbow as they stand waiting for their suitcases, and she gives him a shove back with her hip… his case comes round first and he gives her a decidedly childish smirk in triumph. When they have both finally gotten control of their luggage, as well as control of their own behaviour, it seems, they pull their respective suitcases down the unnecessarily long walkway towards the car hire. Nikki, having made the decidedly uneducated decision to bring a non pull-along case, struggles along the tarmac, the suitcase banging against her right calf every few seconds. Harry turns from where he’s effortlessly pulling his own case, giving her a satisfied smirk for a moment, before stopping to let her catch up.
“Want to swap bags?”
She gives him a scathing look. “I’m just fine, thank you.”
He can’t help chuckling to himself as he hangs back to walk beside her, watching her bump the case against her leg periodically, and her facial expressions shift through various levels of pain, fatigue and annoyance.
The car is of course the farthest from the terminal, and by the time they’ve checked in at the desk and Nikki has taken the keys firmly from the smiling clerk - I booked the car, Harry, I’m driving - dusk has settled around them, and it’s nearer night than day.
She at least lets him heave the suitcase into the boot of the silver hire car, giving him what might just pass as a grateful smile if he squints.
He loads his own suitcase on top of Nikki’s, unzipping the front to safely stow their paperwork away… his previous track record, and hers especially gives him no confidence that they will get through the conference without losing something essential to their flight home.
When he climbs into the passenger seat, colourful language is coming out of her mouth as she makes a futile attempt to prod the Tom-Tom into submission.
“Fucking shit bastard…” she’s hissing, and he can’t help another laugh. If looks could kill, her glance that follows would have had him bleeding out on the floor, and he bites his tongue and watches in silent amusement as she has her battle with the technology, which seems to be refusing to stay on for more than four seconds at a time.
“Uh… Nikki?”
Eyebrows raised, she turns on him, “Think you could do it better?” her tone drips with sarcasm somewhere on the line between humour and actual irritation.
“You need to plug it in…”
Another repertoire of curses escapes those perfect, ladylike lips, and he nudges her slightly with his shoulder, bringing a reluctant smile to her face.
“Shut up.” She hisses, although he isn’t saying a word.
As they finally pull out of the car park, Harry breathes a sigh of relief. They’d had a slight battle with getting the seat into a more upright position, with locating the full beam, and with figuring out how to clear the back windscreen, but as Nikki puts the car into gear it splutters into life in an altogether convincing manner. The Tom-Tom illuminates on the windscreen, directing them for 26 minutes to a hotel somewhere, which Leo had booked. Nikki hasn’t cursed in the last five minutes, and she’s starting to hum along to the radio - Harry believes he may have escaped murder for another day, at least.
Bloody conference.
They’ve just finished a particularly harrowing case - a Jack-the-Ripper copycat serial killer murdering young prostitutes in the East End - and with Janet in the last month of her pregnancy, Leo hadn’t been as involved as usual, leaving the two of them to shoulder most of the weight. That’s also their boss’ excuse for sending them in his place to the annual conference, despite their constant complaining about the type of people they have the pleasure to meet there every year.
So here they are, Nikki just pulling onto the bypass and putting her foot on the gas, Harry tapping his fingers absent-mindedly against the top of the window in time to the radio, a frown on his face.
“Cheer up.” Nikki smiles, glancing at his face, “We can always skip the afternoon lectures…”
He gives her the flash of a smile, and she knows they’re both remembering another conference that was so completely thrilling they decided to go AWOL in the afternoon. Another conference - where they’d ended up running through a thunderstorm and taking refuge in a pub… And they both know how that had ended.
The silence hangs in the air, but it’s not uncomfortable.
Please review, I’d love to hear your feedback.