Alicia swiped on her lipstick.

It was an almost garishly red color, the exact shade of candied apples and the double decker buses that whizzed around London. Greg had always hated it, which had only made her love it more in recent months. She smacked her lips together.

From her bedroom door, Hattie whistled.

"Look at you!"

Alicia did a little twirl. She was wearing the red dress tonight, and the slit rode up dangerously high. Her dark hair was pulled up in a ponytail. She had even put on heels, because what the hell? They rarely went for cocktails; she might as well embrace it.

"Oh, my god." Hattie rushed forward, gripping her chin. "You're even wearing mascara. It's a miracle."

"Oh, get off," Alicia grumbled, swatting her. "You'll ruin the make-up."

Hattie grinned. She was dressed in a more modest pink number, her gold bangles glittering as she adjusted her purse. Alicia snatched up her keys.

"Remind me what we're celebrating again?"

"Burning this town to the ground." Hattie looped their arms together. "And looking fabulous while doing it."

They stepped outside. St Andrews was a sea of black shadows tonight; laughter drifted out of well-lit pubs, accompanied by the faint trickling of the fountain. Students sometimes swore that they could hear the ghostly wheels of carriages rattling along the streets, although Alicia didn't hear any tonight. The only immediate noise was the click-click of their heels on the cobblestones.

Alicia glanced wistfully at a pub; god, she was ready for a drink.

The shop had been dull today; Steve had assured her that business would pick up with the Links tournament on the horizon, but all of the tourists seemed to be swarming to the golf shop across the street. As a result, Steve had spent most of the afternoon scowling out the window, cursing under his breath.

"Ah'm going ta bash their heeds in," he had grumbled. "Ye have ma word."

Alicia had hung in there for the day, but by four o'clock, she had been ready to do some head bashing herself; the thought of red wine had been the only thing getting her through. She frowned as they passed the clock tower, heading towards the outskirts of town. "Where are we going?"

"It's just a little further."

"Hattie," Alicia said, exasperated. "There's nothing this far down."

Well, except for The Iguana: an underground nightclub, notorious for its sticky floors, cheap drinks, and toilets stained with all manner of bodily fluids. And Alicia wasn't nearly drunk enough to go there yet.

She frowned. "Hattie?"

"You'll see."

Her friend dragged her towards the golf course. For a bizarre moment, Alicia thought Hattie might suggest they break into the members-only club house and filch a drink from the bar, but no; they were walking towards the sea.

"You know when I said that I wanted to drown my sorrows, I didn't mean literally, right?"

"Oh, shut-up," Hattie muttered.

They paused at the edge of the empty beach. Black water lapped at the sand, like ink spilling over white parchment. The glimmering stars bled into the sea, reflecting in such a way that Alicia felt as if she was standing on the edge of the galaxy, watching the celestial waves race towards her feet.

She shivered, rubbing her hands over her arms. "Hattie, it's freezing out here. What are we doing just—?"

There was a bang.

She let out a little shriek as crimson lit up the sky. Gold sparkles exploded next, falling like pixie dust, and other fireworks followed in quick succession: periwinkle fountains, lavender rockets, peach Catherine Wheels... The whole display must have gone on for two or three minutes. More, maybe.

"I don't understand." Alicia tilted her head back, squinting at the smoking sky. "How did you know this would be here?"

Hattie grinned. "Don't you get it? It's for you."

Alicia frowned. "But it's not my birthday. It's not even a holiday. Why would you...?" The realization hit her. "Oh, my god. You didn't."

She scanned the beach. And sure enough, there Oliver was, standing by the edge of the water in a black suit. His smile was a white flash in the dark.

She sucked in a breath. "He's insane. You agree with me, right?"

Hattie grinned. "I'll leave you to it."

And with a quick peck on the cheek, she started back towards town.

Oliver shifted nervously as Alicia approached.

Admittedly, Oliver had taken a big swing with the fireworks display; setting off explosives might have — in retrospect — been a bit much. But to hell with it. He had wanted to get Alicia's attention, hadn't he? And it had worked.

She stepped closer, and Oliver abruptly choked.

Dear god.

What was she wearing?

He was pretty sure that his jaw was dragging somewhere along the beach, making a lovely home for a stray hermit crab. He couldn't stop staring. Red dress. Curves. And then a full red-lipped pout, looking immensely kissable.

Oliver couldn't ever remember thinking those words before. "Immensely kissable." But by god, he was thinking them now. He was suddenly very aware of Brooks being only twenty meters away, concealed behind a large sand dune. Hopefully, the bodyguard couldn't see very well in the dark. Alicia looked far too gorgeous tonight, and Oliver wasn't willing to share her.

"Well," she said dryly. "That was quite the display."

Not as good as the one you're putting on right now.

He wasn't brave enough to say it, though. In fact, Oliver was feeling the increasing urge to dive into the sea and swim as far away as possible.

"You look..." He shook his head. "Wow."

She smiled wryly. "I mean, I thought I was going out for drinks."

"Ah."

"To a bar."

"Well," Oliver said, clearing his throat, "I can't offer you a bar, but I do have drinks." He held up a bottle. "Champagne?"

Alicia studied him for a moment. She was doing that thing where she tilted her head, just slightly to the left, and Oliver couldn't help but find it unbearably cute. Although he suspected that Alicia could have green seaweed for hair, and he would still find it cute. It was downright disturbing.

"You're sort of a planner, aren't you?"

He blinked. "What?"

"Well, you are." She kicked off her heels. "The fireworks display, the champagne, dropping flowers off at my house the other day... You like to think of everything in advance."

"I suppose."

"Take off your shoes."

"I—what?"

"Take them off," she repeated. "Right now."

"But why?"

Alicia gave him a sly smile. Then she sprinted towards the black water, letting out a loud whoop. He watched, baffled, as she plunged into the waves, spraying white sea foam and carelessness. Her earrings glittered in the darkness.

"Are you mad?" he shouted. "It's freezing!"

"Come in!"

"You'll get hypothermia."

"Oh, come on, Ollie." She splashed the water. "Live a little!"

Oliver sucked in a breath. Oh, screw it. What did he have to lose? He yanked off his shoes, sprinting towards the water. Throwing his suit jacket on the sand — well, Antony's suit jacket, to be precise — he waded into the sea.

Freezing cold water hit him.

He swore like a sailor, running through a number of creative expletives, and Alicia threw back her head and laughed. She pulled out her ponytail, flopping backwards into the water. Her hair was slick and dark as a seal.

"You're out of your mind." His teeth were chattering. "This was the worst idea ever."

"Says the man that set off fireworks."

"That was different."

"Oh, yeah," Alicia said, deadpan. "I've heard that explosives are much safer."

She grinned, sinking into the water. Sinking into it. Oliver was beginning to think her bones were made of ice. He watched as she tilted her head back, staring up at the night sky. Pinpricks of light reflected in her dark eyes.

"You see that?" Rivulets of water ran down her tanned arm. "That's Cassiopeia. And just to the right there?" She pointed to another clump of stars. "That's Andromeda."

"Impressive."

She shrugged. "I have a thing about stars."

"What about them?"

"I don't know." She pursed those red lips. "I suppose I like the idea that there's always something constant you can look to. Something unchanging. Even when my life is going in a million directions, I find it comforting that the stars are so predictable." She shrugged. "If that makes any sense."

Oliver nodded. He was too terrified to say anything, in case it ruined the moment. In fact, Oliver had lost sensation in his legs several minutes ago, but he would have happily frozen to death in the North Sea if it meant that Alicia would keep talking. Keep opening up.

What was this girl doing to him?

Alicia swam closer. He could smell the floral perfume clinging to her skin, mixing oddly with the ocean brine. Sweet and salty.

She smiled. "You know this isn't a date, right?"

"I know," he said.

But Oliver suddenly felt confident that he was one step closer to getting one.

A/N: Awww a little Olicia moment! (Aliver? Olicia?)

So another little behind-the-scenes tidbit: "The Iguana" is based off a real underground nightclub in St Andrews called the Lizard! It shut down while I was at university, but the big thing was getting "slizzard at the lizard" which was basically just as grim as it sounded.

Has anyone else been to the Lizard before? I'll be so impressed if anyone has (and survived to tell the tale)!

Affectionately,

J.K.