Hey, hey! Here we go, the slightly insane, VERY ADULT, part 9 of the Should Have Series! As some of you would know, this is me rewriting the episode 'Out of the Blue' because, well, Nikola should have been in there. I say again, it is not for young eyes, it's probably my most adult-y thing yet. In fact, it makes me blush in parts. So yes, read with caution...

Let me know what you all think, I'm anxious to get feedback because this is maybe the most original-ish story line I've come up with on here...

xx

The doorbell sounded and Helen turned, pausing at her kitchen bench. The electrician she'd called shouldn't be on her doorstep already, she mused. He wasn't due for another half hour. Perhaps it was the neighbours, she wondered absently as she made her way to the door. Those people across the street were both too friendly and surprisingly hostile all at once.

The soft chime sounded again and Helen chuckled. Whoever it was, was impatient. She came to a soft stop before the door, frowning as she realised that she didn't recognise the silhouette. The person on the other side of the frosted glass door was tall and slender, wearing what seemed to be a dark blue uniform.

Rethinking her earlier assumption that her electrician hadn't arrived yet, Helen opened the door slowly, peering out tentatively. The man on her porch indeed wore the uniform of the local handyman agency but his shoulders were slumped, the over-large shirt hanging from his frame. He had a thick moustache too that obscured his face and his dark blue workman's cap was pulled low over his eyes.

"I fix ze lights," he half muttered, slurring his words with what Helen picked out as an Eastern European accent.

She blinked at him for a moment though, not quite remembering that he'd need to come into the house to fix the faulty switch upstairs. He was somehow familiar and Helen felt an overwhelming urge to lean in and get a proper look at his face.

But the electrician cleared his throat uncomfortably and Helen felt heat flood her cheeks.

"Sorry," she mumbled, stepping back and holding the door open. The man gave her a tight smile and stepped inside, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"Where is ze light?" he asked softly, not meeting her eye.

"Upstairs," she spluttered, stepping against the wall and gesturing towards the staircase. The strange man nodded once and walked past her, up the stairs. "First room on your left," she called after him, just barely finding her voice. But then she was following him up the stairs. There was no reason to, no logical progression of thought that would have her traipsing upstairs after the man when she had a cup of tea waiting in the kitchen for her.

But there she was, following him up the stairs, into her bedroom, coming to an abrupt stop when he froze just inside the doorway.

"Can I be helping you?" he asked politely.

"I was going to show you the light," Helen chirruped, grinning like an idiot. Inside, she was cursing herself. What on earth was she doing?

"Oh," the man said, shoulders hunching a little further.

They both paused for a moment, a tense silence falling over the two of them before the man cleared his throat.

"Which is ze light?" he tried, sounding distinctly uncomfortable.

"Oh!" Helen half shrieked. "Right. Of course. It's in here. Of course it is, that's why I sent you here. Silly me. It's this one. Here. By the door."

The choked little giggle tacked on the end made the colour in Helen's cheeks burn brighter. Why was she acting so... so... so stupidly? That wasn't derogatory enough, she decided. Not for the way she was behaving. No, she was being idiotic. Moronic. Illogical. There were at least a thousand other words that sprang to mind but she pushed them away in favour of giving the electrician what she hoped was a polite smile, confused as to why he shifted uncomfortably.

"I am zorry," he began in his delightful accent. "I am sinking dat you are a vurry buetiful voman but ve are not supposed to... to... wiz ze customers we cannot... it is..."

The flush on his cheeks put Helen's to shame and she stumbled backwards, a hand flying to her mouth.

"No!" she half cried. "No, no of course not. I wasn't... I didn't mean... That's... I..."

She went to step back again but lost her footing, arms flying out as she tried to stay upright. It was only because of the two strong arms that wrapped around her waist that she avoided falling to the floor. She gasped, grabbing onto the arms around her, gaze flying up to meet a pair of pale grey eyes. Her breath huffed out in surprise, her body arching into the strangers arms without any thought as to the consequences.

The electrician, for his part, tightened his grip on her, dragging her upright slowly. When they were standing properly though, he didn't let her, instead using his grip to hold her flush to his chest.

"Are you hurt?" he asked softly, brow furrowing. Helen almost smiled at the way his moustache twitched with each word.

"No," she replied, her voice high and breathy. He was still holding her firmly and Helen found she had no inclination to pull away. He was warm, barely taller than her but still just that little bit bigger so that she felt safe and secure in his embrace. It was a nice feeling, she decided somewhat dreamily, one that she wanted to get used to.

The electrician swallowed heavily, his large hands spreading over the small of her back while Helen ran her hands up to his shoulders.

And then, suddenly, they were kissing. She wasn't sure who started it or how exactly it had happened but their lips were touching and, oh, so were their tongues. He was a good kisser, an excellent kisser even and he tasted of spice and warmth and something ever so slightly sweet. His moustache tickled a little bit in a very pleasant way that made her wonder how she'd never discovered such a pleasure previously.

Though they'd never even met before, Helen found he knew her body well, his hands running down to her hips and up between her shoulder blades, smoothing soft circles that radiated heat through the think fabric of her top.

Helen sighed softly into the kiss and it seemed to spur him on. His hands tightened and the kiss deepened and Helen became aware of the hard planes of his body.

Suddenly a desperation overtook them and Helen found herself tearing at his blue uniform. The buttons gave away easily, leaving her to explore his chest through the thin fabric of his undershirt. His hands were just as adventurous, diving beneath the hem of her tank top and pushing the material up to expose her stomach.

He moaned against her lips, mumbling something in a language she didn't know as she grabbed him by the shoulders, tugging him backwards. Somehow, the fact that he carried no tools registered in Helen's mind for a moment but then she was falling against her bed, his weight following her until their legs were tangled and their bodies moving frantically against each other.

One of his hands found its way to her breast, squeezing roughly enough to make her moan, the noise ragged, ripped from her throat. The electrician shuddered against her at the sound, his thigh snaking between her legs and giving her just enough pressure against where she needed him most.

"God," she huffed. "Please. Please, I..."

He pulled back, yanking her tank top as far down as it would go, pushing aside the lacy cup of her bra until he could bow his head and suck her nipple into his mouth, teeth scrapping over the sensitive flesh.

Her hands knotted in his hair, holding him in place as she arched up. He was muttering again, words she assumed were of endearment but more than that she couldn't tell. All she knew was that she needed more. And, considering the way his hand was making its way to the top of her pants, Helen was certain she was close to getting it.

The erection pressing against her thigh made her body shiver and her mind jumping to a thousand dirty ways this could play out, each more deliciously wicked than the last.

It had been too long since she'd had a man...

But then a shrill bell rang, half jolting Helen from her lust-filled revere. It was only because of his mouth still caressing her breast that she didn't sit up properly. Whatever it was could wait, she decided.

The bell went again.

Helen resolutely ignored it, moaning her approval for the way her strange electrician continued to seduce her body.

Again, the doorbell rang, this time louder.

Helen moaned again, rolling to the side and attempting to wrap herself around the man atop her but she came up with nothing. Groggily, she opened her eyes, blinking uncertainly at what was most certainly the ceiling of her lounge room, not her bedroom.

There was no warm weight atop her either, indicating that, once again, she had been dreaming. Recently they'd been so vivid that it wasn't until she woke up that she could tell the difference. Like now. Pushing aside the throbbing emptiness she suddenly felt within, she focused instead on the ring of the doorbell that was still going off periodically.

Helen groaned, sliding off the couch slowly, rolling her shoulders as she sat up. It might be more convenient to sleep on the couch but it really wasn't practical. The insistent ring of the doorbell that had awoken her from her peaceful, if not a little lustful slumber again sounded and Helen rolled her eyes. It was probably her nosy neighbour again, complaining either about poor little Henry or his wife with more of her barely palatable baked goods. Who else would think it appropriate to call on her in the middle of the day? Everyone else knew that that's when she slept.

By the time she was standing upright, whoever had disturbed her peace had hit the bell four more times and Helen was warming up her very best death stare. If this was more female bonding, that simpering blonde was about to die a painful death. In happier times, John had often complained that, with a single of her iciest stares, she could effectively remove him from the partner track at his firm. Of course, she'd quipped that his often misguided sense of humour would do that without her intervention.

The bell went again and she almost screamed.

"Just a moment," she called out, grabbing her previously discarded jumper and tugging it over her head to cover the paint stained tank top she wore underneath. Just as she flipped her hair clear of the collar, the bell sounded again and her anger rose to new heights. Stomping to the front of the house, she threw open the door, prepared to decimate whoever had set off that damn chime at least a hundred times.