Plan for no plan at all.

For a while, neither of us seemed capable of saying anything particularly intelligent. I sat back in the leather chair, trying to gather my thoughts, while Joan eventually pulled herself together and got up, leaning against the side of the desk. Her dress lay in a heap nearby, and she looked almost as though she was still trying to make sense of what had just happened. The confident, teasing woman who had welcomed me into the editing suite seemed to have temporarily disappeared, replaced by someone who was every bit as bewildered as I was.

Eventually, she looked up at me and let out a disbelieving little laugh. “Good Lord. What just happened?”

I grinned tiredly. “I thought you were the media teacher. Surely you could analyse the footage and work it out.”

Joan stared at me for a moment before bursting out laughing again. “You are absolutely shameless!”

“You asked.”

“That was not the answer I was expecting.”

“It's an honest answer.”

She laughed again, then reached for my hand and gave it a little squeeze. “Honestly, I think I should have expected that from you by now.”

“I'm consistent.”

“Oh, you're something, all right.” She grinned at me, and for a moment she seemed to be looking at me with a mixture of amusement and genuine amazement. “You know what? I'm actually rather glad you came back tonight.”

“Rather glad?”

“Don't fish for compliments, Trouble Maker. You've already had enough excitement for one evening.”

I laughed, and she joined me. I got up from the chair and came over and stood next to Joan. She leaned her weight against me and rested her head on my shoulder. The earlier nervousness had begun to give way to something much more relaxed. Joan looked happier now, almost giddy, as if she were still processing the evening herself.

“I honestly don't know what came over me,” she admitted, smiling to herself. “I spent half the evening telling myself to behave, after you turned up looking all handsome in that suit, with that ridiculous tie, and suddenly I couldn't remember any of the sensible things I'd been telling myself.”

I grinned. “So, the outfit worked?”

“Don't make me regret saying that.”

“Too late. I'm going to remember it forever.”

She gave me a playful shove. “You're impossible.”

“And yet here we are.”

Joan laughed, then looked at me with a warmer expression. She stepped around and pressed her still naked body against mine, chest to chest. “Yes. Here we are.”

For a little while, we simply stood together, holding each other and enjoying the quiet after the excitement of the evening. I felt as though I ought to say something profound, something that would capture how strange and incredible the whole experience had been. Unfortunately, my brain seemed to have packed up for the night.

Joan apparently wasn't having much more luck. “So,” she said eventually, “what on earth do we do now?”

I looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were the experienced one here.”

“Experienced at teaching media, perhaps. Not necessarily at dealing with cheeky eighteen-year-old students who decide to turn up after a school dance and completely derail my evening.”

“I'm taking that as a compliment.”

“Of course you are.”

She smiled, but then she paused, seeming to consider something. “All right. I suppose there are a couple of things we ought to agree on.”

I nodded, listening, my arms closing even tighter on the small of Joan’s back.

“During school hours, and especially when we're around other people, we're strictly professional. In the classroom, you're my student, and I'm your teacher. No flirting in front of the class, no lingering looks that make Michael suspicious, and absolutely no giving anyone a reason to start gossiping.”

I laughed. “You've met Michael. He doesn't need a reason.”

“That's precisely why I'm telling you this.” She poked her finger into my chest. “And you are not allowed to make some ridiculous comment during my next lesson about how much you enjoyed your practical work.”

I grinned. “There goes my planned assessment feedback.”

“I'm serious!”

“I know.”

She tried to maintain a stern expression, but her smile gave her away. “Good. Because I would never get through a lesson if you kept making me laugh.”

“Then I suppose I'll have to behave.”

“You suppose correctly.”

Joan delicately drew herself out of my possession and took a step back away from me. “As for everything else…”

I waited.

“Well, that's the bit I haven't worked out yet.”

I couldn't help smiling. “Neither have I.”

“Excellent. At least we're equally clueless.”

She reached for my hand again. “I don't want to decide what this is supposed to be tonight. We've both had a very unusual evening, and perhaps we're not in the best state to make grand declarations about the future.”

“Are you saying I shouldn't start planning our wedding?”

Joan stared at me. “Good grief.”

I burst out laughing.

“You really are determined to make this difficult, aren't you?”

“I'm just asking sensible questions.”

“No, you're absolutely not. Sensible is the furthest thing from what this evening has been.”

She was laughing now, too, and I couldn't help joining in. It felt good to see her so relaxed. There was no awkward silence or sudden gloom, just the two of us trying to work out what to do with something neither of us had expected when the evening began.

Eventually Joan glanced at the clock on the wall. “Oh, wow. Look at the time.”

I followed her gaze. It was considerably later than I'd realised. “I should probably get home.”

“Probably,” she agreed, although she didn't immediately let go of my hand. She looked at me for a moment, then smiled. “Tell you what. Let's give ourselves a few days to come to our senses. We'll get through Monday, survive a few lessons, and then we can talk properly next week.”

“Just talk?”

She gave me a knowing look. “Don't push your luck.”

I laughed. “When?”

“Thursday afternoon.” She thought for a moment. “The media rooms are usually quiet after the last class, and I can make sure we have some privacy to talk without being interrupted.”

I nodded. “Thursday it is.”

“And until then, you're going to be on your best behaviour.”

“Of course.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I mean it, Trouble Maker.”

“So do I, Ms. Holmes.”

She smiled at the deliberate formality. “Much better.”

Having come up with a somewhat plan, we both started to get dressed. I considered it a shame, as I truly enjoyed seeing Joan out of her clothes and naked. If nothing else had come of tonight, just seeing her naked would have been beyond my wildest dreams just a day ago. Finally ready, I collected my things while she gathered her handbag and checked that she'd left everything in order. Before I reached the door, she came over and straightened my tie again, a completely unnecessary gesture that made me grin.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“Your face suggests otherwise.”

“I was just thinking that if this is what happens when I answer your questions honestly, I might have to start paying much closer attention in class.”

Joan laughed. “You had better. I'm still marking your work.”

“Cruel woman.”

“Terrible student.”

I opened the door, then glanced back at her. “Goodnight, Joan.”

She reached out and cupped my chin before she stepped in for one more kiss on the lips. Tender and fleeting this time. “Goodnight. And get home safely.”

I left the editing suite with a grin that I suspected would take some considerable effort to remove. Monday was going to be an interesting experience, and Thursday suddenly felt a very long way away. For now, though, I had a secret, a promise to behave myself at school, and the unexpected knowledge that Ms. Holmes was just as excited about what had happened as I was. That was more than enough to keep me smiling all the way home.