Don't Wave No Goodbye

The thing is that it just works. The arrangement with Harry means she can completely focus on her show, her friends, and herself without having to put up with the extra hassle of finding some stranger to sleep with whenever she feels like it. Harry’s there for her to kiss and cuddle and sleep with whenever the need arises, and he’s also good to talk to which she knows is a bit dangerous because it means feelings, but somehow they manage to make it work. Then when it all feels a bit much, Harry takes off with his band for a signing over in France or a bunch of interviews over in Italy and it helps put distance between them and keep Darcy from suffocating.

It just works, and each show Darcy goes into with a smile and that constant Friday feeling. Even when Nick drags up the awful party karaoke and plays the audio of Finchy and herself screaming along to Call Me Maybe, much to both of their embarrassment and Nick’s amusement, she just plays along because this is Nick and his favourite thing to do is torture all his friends.

“So, how you holding up now that your little boy toy is away?” Nick asks as his link finishes and they go to the news. Darcy’s too early for her show but figures that hanging out in the studio with Nick and seeing how many times she can distract him or put him off seems like a good way to waste time.

Darcy smirks. “Fine, thanks. Needed a bit of a rest anyway, he’s rather limber and me? Not so much.”

“You’re looking rather smug there, darling. It’s almost worrying,” Nick answers, his tone teasing but happy too.

“If you’re about to start going on about how right you were about this, I won’t hesitate to smack you,” Darcy says through a grin.

“Well I never, I find you the fuck buddy of your dreams and this is how you repay me. I’m wounded.” Nick clutches at his chest and acts as if he’s going into some sort of cardiac arrest that Darcy just rolls her eyes at.

“Whatever Grimshaw. And what about you, hmm? You've been rather quiet on your progress since the Tomlinshaw snog weeks back, right?” Darcy tries and Nick gives her a look.

“Tomlinshaw? Did you just make that up? Sounds like a venereal disease,” Nick responds, scrunching his nose up at the thought.

“Please, do you think I have time to make up couple names for the two of you? No, it’s what the fans call ya. You know, like Grincham, Gryles, Stylinshaw.”

Nick perks up at this. “Oh, I see! I didn’t know so many people were avid supporters of Grincham. It’s my favourite one, ya know. We’re obviously the power couple of Radio One.”

“We’re not a couple!” Finchy yells out from across the studio and Fiona covers her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“What are you talking about, babe, of course we are!” Nick shoots back, holding his arms out in a ‘why?’ gesture.

Darcy laughs, reaching out to cuff the back of Nick’s head. “Stop winding him up, leave him alone.”

“Why are you hitting me? He’s the one breaking my heart!” Nick pouts, looking too much like a petulant child.

“Thank you, Darce!” Finchy calls out, blowing her a kiss which Darcy pretends to snatch up with a smile.

“Because,” Darcy says in mock seriousness. “Finchy deserves much better than you, Nick Grimshaw. Now back to what we were talking about, please. I’m dying to know what’s happening between the two of you!”

Nick gives a half-hearted shrug. “Dunno really, I mean he texts me stuff now and then but it’s not really anything.”

“What kind of texts?” Darcy asks suspiciously, eyeing up her friend who’d suddenly become very twitchy.

“You know, just texts and – hey, no, give that back!” Nick cries, trying to reach out and grab his phone off Darcy, failing miserably as Darcy jumps up out of her seat and out of Nick’s reach. Nick’s about to stand up to chase after her when Finchy starts furiously gesturing at his computer.

“Shit,” Nick mutters, throwing his headphones on while trying to get through the next link, being far too focused on Darcy giggling in the corner as she scrolls through his texts. “Erm, we’re going to go to another record because there’s a breach in my privacy occurring right now and I need to go defend my name!”

Finchy groans quietly, resting his head in his hands while Nick and Darcy tussle over the phone, wondering what on earth he did in a past life that warrants him having to deal with these children for five days a week while Fiona and LMC just cheer the two on.

“You’re sexting!” Darcy squeals from the floor where Nick’s practically lying on top of her, trying to reach his phone that Darcy’s still clinging to desperately. “You two are dirty texting! Nicholas Grimshaw, you little slut!”

“You wicked tart, give that back!”

Finally the two of them exhaust each other and just lie there on the floor, Darcy still giggling to herself as Nick manages to snatch the phone back off her and shove it in his pocket.

“It’s just a thing,” Nick says finally, waving his hand about dismissively.

“Right, of course it is,” Darcy nods knowingly. “I think it’s all rather fetching. Even if your dirty talk needs some serious work.”

Nick shoves at her with a hoarse laugh. “Shut up, he thinks it’s hot. It’s like, I get to annoy the shit out of him and still get off so it like, works, ya know?”

Darcy does know. “Yeah, I get it. Like you said, what’s a little bump and grind?”

Nick looks over at her and suddenly the two of them are laughing hysterically again until tears are streaming down their faces and Finchy can only watch on in complete confusion.

“You two have the weirdest friendship I’ve ever had the misfortune to witness,” he says after a moment, his expression one of disbelief. “You’re both completely crazy.”

“Better than being boring though, yeah?” Nick asks as he gets to his feet and swings an arm around Finchy’s shoulders, bringing him in to deliver a wet kiss to his temple which Finchy tries his best to fight off, leaving the rest of the Breakfast Crew and Darcy grinning fondly as the two scuffle.