FLYING thousands and thousands of kilometres to have Christmas with a woman he'd never met seemed like a good idea back in cold dreary London.

However standing in the kitchen of Mia Nuyen's flat in Burleigh Heads, Gold Coast, Australia on Christmas night with a tea-towel slung over his shoulder and a bowl of prawn heads in his hand, Chiwetel wasn't quite so sure anymore.

This was the first time they had been alone in the same hemisphere in their entire 10 month relationship, if you could call what they had a relationship.

It was wasn't it? You didn't have to be in the same country, the same part oft he world to know how you felt about someone –did you?

They'd "met" in early March through a phone interview. 

The Australian journalist and the British actor; talking about a movie he'd made two years earlier in Africa.  

They'd hit it off.

Yes he'd had a good rapport with journalists before, of course he did, it was his job to do it – to engage in a symbiotic relationship with journalists. 

He needed them to sell tickets to his movies and fulfil his promotional commitments to the studio and they needed him to sell papers or whatever it was they sold now. 

So he was charming, unless the journalist and their questions were mindless and inane, he was always charming.And she was anything by mindless. 

Her questions were intelligent; the last phone call of a busy evening and finally someone was asking thought-provoking questions, someone was making him laugh. 

She was good at what she did, flirting, relaxing him, controlling the interview and yet not making it obvious. In fact five minutes in to their 20 minute phone interview and he felt like he knew her, 15 minutes in he thought he'd known her forever.

Impulsively he'd googled her, what he saw – the beautiful Eurasian-Australian girl with the long dark hair and big green eyes – made him throw caution windward. 

He'd rung her back, on his own line 20 minutes later. You didn't do that – no-one did that. You had 20 minutes and then that was that,you never saw or thought of each other again...But he couldn't let that be it, they'd connected and he wanted more, and, thankfully for him, she'd felt the same and didn't think he was some weird stalker.

Well she teased him that he was, but she didn't mean it. And now he'd done something even more impulsive, waaaaay more impulsive.

His family thought he'd lost it when he rang them and explained what he was doing. 

All except his youngest sister, ironically a journalist like Mia but in the US and television not print. 

His sister had declared it the most romantic thing she'd ever heard.

As he stood here now watching this tiny ephemeral creature in her tight white tank top and tiny red shorts (more about comfort in this heat than looking sexy – though she did that with oblivious ease) he had reached the part of the plan he hadn't really planned out. 

The part you couldn't plan out.

Not that he'd done a lot of planning for this. 

It had been a whim, a flight of fancy involving real flight, a real long flight. 

He'd forgotten how long it took to get to Australia. 

He'd been here twice before, both times on promotional tours and tight schedules that involved artificial touristy things and regimented schedules.

But not this time, this time he had nowhere else to be fora week, no filming, no promoting, no rehearsing - nothing else to do but enjoy the warm (really warm), humid (so humid that he could swear he could actually see the air he was breathing) weather. 

To head to the beach that he couldglimpse from Mia's kitchen window (if he'd been looking anywhere other than at the girl in front of him), to dive in the waves that he could actually hear crashing to the shore in this quiet car-free, bustle free Christmas evening world they were inhabiting, to walk hand-in-hand down the long white beaches and take in lungs full of that fresh ocean air. 

But mostly to get to know the beautiful woman that had taken over his life and made him do silly schoolboy things like fly more than halfway around the world and spend Christmas Eve with people he didn't know from Adam just to be close to her. 

To surprise her. 

And she'd been surprised.

He could still see her face when she'd walked into her boss's house this morning for Christmas lunch and saw him standing by the Christmas tree. The scream, the hug, the kiss – their first kiss, that first shy tentative kiss after 10 months of hanging out eating pizza, talking, drinking wine after that drunken night a few weeks ago when he'd been on a promotional tour in Japan and actually had night when she did. 

Well..............

Her boss, newspaper brother, her best friend hadn't even been surprised when he'd rung him (he had the paper's number and asked for him not her for a change). 

Rob knew as well as Chiwetel – call me Chewie – that Mia was down, missing her actor brother. Leo was on Broadway this year and spending his two or three days off with his new boyfriend in New York.Rob knew she needed family – that was part of the reason he'd invited her to lunch, that and well, he always had if she wasn't going to Sydney to be with her aunt.

 It had touched him, he knew lonely at Christmas, he knew missing family.

It had been a whim; he'd done it before he thought.

The call to Rob the "yeah mate of course – but don't stay at a hotel, come out to the farm Pam and I'd love to have ya! We'd been wondering what to get Mia for Christmas!"

Two days (and an exorbitant plane ticket later) and Chiwetel was in the air. 

And then there was the huge flight and a man in his fifties – a cowboy hat pushed back on his head, in dress shorts, a cotton button down and socks and sandals, straight from work, picked him up from the Gold Coast airport in torrential rain.It wasn't London rain either – it was the sort of rain that you could see each individual drop, the sort of rain that left you drenched in seconds, the sort of rain Mia had talked out but Chewie hadn't really believed until he saw it. 

But Rob had parked close and they had made the car without drowning and then wound their way out into the valley. A valley so green and lush – it was obvious he was in a totally other world far away from grey wintery London. 

Lights still twinkled on buildings but they were few and far between and by the time he reached Rob's hilltop home, Chiwetel had shrugged his jacket and undone the top two buttons of his shirt. 

By dinner he was down to a t shirt and shorts and after dinner he had swum in the pool before sinking a few of the homebrews on offer.

He wasn't in Kansas anymore Toto. 

He wasn't in London either or Nigeria with his extended family but even though he didn't know Rob, his wife, adult kids and their friends well, he still felt like he was home. 

These people loved each other, loved fun and they loved Mia – that was obvious particularly over late night whiskeys.

 As they stared into their whiskeys Rob told him it was nice to see her happy again, told of broken hearts and then he warned him he'd kill him if he hurt her. 

Chewie had smiled – this was her family.

He'd crawled into bed after midnight Australian time destined for a hangover and thankful that he could sleep in until 10am. Though the cacophony of Christmas sounds woke him early, birds, bad country music renditions of Christmas favourites woke him at 9 am.

 A shower, a painkiller or two and out to help Pam and Rob in the kitchen. 

It was Christmas but not as he knew it. Salads, lots of salads, seafood, a ham glazed but cooling, cold chickens – it was 10.30am and already 36 degrees and 75 percent humidity.

 A step outside away from the air-conditioning and his skin glistened like morning dew or snowflakes on a northern street and he didn't want that.Cars came; people trudged up Rob's long long driveway – but not her. Grandparents, good friends, but no Mia.

 His heart sank, what, after all this she didn't come?He stayed busy, he sliced ham, he washed lettuce, he helped heap cherries into huge bowls.And then, he heard one last car and Rob pushed him towards the towering silver-tinsel tree.He heard the welcomes, the "I didn't know what to get you"and associated "you didn't have to get me anything" the clink of bottles in abox, the thank yous and then the "we got you the perfect gift – well we hope it's perfect – it's by the tree". 

And then he saw her.

He heard that scream.

He thought he would throw up and he didn't know if it was from nerves or from the hangover that was still eating at his body (he was never drinking with Rob again).

The "Oh my fucking god how did you get here".

"Santa dropped me off last night!"

"I couldn't find you – for the past three days – I thought you were too busy," she said and then she almost whispered "to busy for me!"

His dark eyes shone and he shook his head, his heart soared and broke in equal measures and mouthed the words "never".

They were standing close now, but afraid to touch the other in case they weren't real, this had to be real. 

Pam had moaned, "oh god just kiss the man Mia". 

And so they had gentle and chaste though the hug that had accompanied it had been hard and long like neither would let go. 

Neither had wanted too but yet they were strangers and strangely shy with each other, for two people who had heard each other come, for two people who knew things about the other that no one else did.

But that was from a distance, up close and personal was different.Had been different.But slowly it thawed.As presents were opened.A hastily wrapped bottle of his favourite whiskey for Chiwetel – he didn't expect anything, though he'd had the good sense to bring a basket of chocolates, which he'd had the good sense to give them last night to refrigerate; a basket of goodies for Mia with champagne where her favourite whiskey might have been and presents for the family.At lunch – buffet style taken on the verandah overlooking the rolling green of the mountains dotted with cows and trees – they'd sat together. 

Every brush of a leg had been electric, accidental touch of hands –like lightning and yet the smiles had stayed shy, big but shy. 

She wanted to pinch herself but as the "accidental" touches became more, he became real.

They had started to relax by the time they were wearing the silly hats and telling the stupid jokes and tucking into the platters of fruit and ice cream of pudding and custard. 

By the time lunch was cleared and everyone was nursing an alcohol around the pool, they were holding hands (though Chewies and Mia were on the soft stuff – Mia was driving and Chewie was learning – Mia had laughed knowingly when he'd opted for fruit punch not alcohol).

And then at 3pm, while Rob and his mate Ben were arguing over what music to put on next, the "kids" and their friends were swimming and Pam and the parents were snoozing on lounges in front of Christmas movies in the cool of the airconditioning; Mia had asked him the question. Where was he staying, she had to go soon. She was hosting friends; other singleton's who had worked today, gathering the news (and the weird pictures of board-shorted santas turning up in strange places). 

They'd be there at 5pm well 5pm Rob's time – it was an hour earlier across the border on the Gold Coast – Queensland where the clocks held steadfast refusing to spring forward or fall back to stop the cows from getting confused or the curtains faded or something like that. 

"With you if you have room and you'll have me," he'd said quietly, his voice low and slow like dark melted chocolate.

She'd smiled then. 

A wide smile, a little shy, a little predatorily.

His heart had flipped. 

They were no children, no virgins either of them, they were in their thirties; they'd been around the block. But this felt special,different. 

He'd smiled back and his eyes had twinkled.

They were gone soon after – well 30 minutes later after drinks had been finished and gear had been collected and stowed in her little hatch back.

"I can't believe you did this," she said as they drove away, started the 45 minute journey north back in time.He touched his hand to her leg then tentatively, as they wound their way through the country roads and headed for the highway north. 

The roads were quiet, eerily so, the world was sleeping off lunch.

He'd laughed.

"I finally had a break in my schedule," he said in that hot chocolate voice again, eyes still twinkling.

"I'm glad you did," she'd said in a way that made blood flow to places that would be embarrassing when he got out of the car.

"I thought about coming to you but – well I worked until 6pm yesterday and if I didn't stay late someone with a family would have had too and well you sounded so busy and you were going to your aunts and.........."

She was rambling now, still over awed by his presence.

He smiled- reassuringly.

"Great minds – though I know you've had a Northern Christmas I wanted a to experienced, to taste your world," he'd said and she'd swallowed hard at the word taste, images coming unbidden into her mind, images that made her blush. 

She turned her gaze back to the road and he stared out the window as they talked about lunch and about the "less formal affair this afternoon – more laid back".

He'd laughed then. Lunch had been the most relaxed he'd ever been at Christmas and she laughed too "we Aussies are a little more laid-back than you Brits" she'd giggled.

"You can say that again," he said and so she did and they laughed and the goofy smiles came back and stayed.

Her flat was in a blond-brick building 12 storeys, one street back from the ocean. 

An older building, but still nice.

 She lived six floors up – in the middle –thank god there was an elevator with his bag (though T shirts and shorts were less bulky than the coats and jeans of home – no need for layering here) and the stuff brought back from Rob's they had their hands full. He had wanted to touch her then, to finally kiss her properly in that elevator, near her door, even in her flat, but their hands were full and their time alone was short.

She gave him the quick tour – time was marching and her phone had signalled that her friends were finishing up and coming south from the heart of the city – the dead heart today – well other than the beaches where the crowds were still gathering to escape the heat and family but probably not in that order.

The flat was open planned, old but homey, he'd seen it –but only through a camera lens and now he was here and suddenly it felt more real than ever. 

There were big overstuffed leather lounges black against bright lime walls, cream tiles easy to clean off sand trekked in from the beach, a small kitchen was tucked into the L shape of the room with a large table in front of that and a door that led out to a small but functionally verandah with sea views (you're not trying if you don't have a sea view here).

The hall beside the kitchen lead to two bedrooms, a small bathroom and laundry.He shouldered his bag, his hand itching to drop it when she opened her door to show him, too presumptuous. She felt disappointment when asked where he'd be sleeping and headed down the hall.

She sighed – too presumptuous. 

But he'd flown, he was here for her. 

And it wasn't as if.............But that was different. 

They didn't know each other, though the more time they spent together, the more time they talked, the more she knew this was him, this was her friend, this was the man she'd fallen for without ever meeting, touching.

Nerves flurried like the eddies on a beach like the little snow storms of his Christsmas' well the ones not spent with extended family in Nigeria.

 He stowed his gear, she got him sheets for the bed, her brother's when he was home and left him too it.

By the time he appeared – now in board shorts and a tee –borrowed obviously from Rob's son (they'd have to shop or he'd have very little clothing (mmmmm)) she had already started on the cheese platters and had retrieved the glasses. 

He came to help and together in the Christmas music world of her flat they worked and prepared until her guest appeared. 

Four in all – a photographer and his girlfriend Adam and Maxie and the on-duty journo Jamie and her boyfriend Dean.

 They were fun – this was fun, stories about the day's work,about her work wine flowed, champagne flowed – they lived close walking distance.

 They ate their food and drank their alcohol and as the sun set behind them the three couples walked hand in hand down the beach and both Chiwetel and Mia relax, breathed out, staring at their locked hands, giggling like children.

They came back to a game of Cards Against Humanity and the Christmas message from the Queen they teased the Brits of the group (Maxie and Chewie), more wine and then dancing to the Christmas music in the tiny flat.

 And he'd held her for the first time, well the first time since their hug this morning, but this time alcohol and hours had made them relaxed. 

The other couples had been invited to stay over but both declined and had left soon after the dancing,watching their friend fall in love with the man she obviously already loved. Winking knowingly at Chiwetel and Mia separately as they left. 

Jamie, who knew about had squealed and hugged Chewie when she'd seen him and now she was dragging her man out the door even though there was cleaning, desperate to let them be together.

And suddenly they were alone. Standing in the middle of the lounge room in the middle of

the inevitable mess of Christmas holding hands as the elevator took away their guests.

"We should clean up and you should get to bed," she said blushing like a school girl."Oh I meant um."His eye brow went up and he laughed that lilting laugh of his, the one that made her stomach go funny on the phone, the one that was making other places go very funny here and now.He yawned then – "yes it's been a long day" – a long week if he was honest but he was here.

"I can do this if you want?" she asked.

He shook his head, not helping meant leaving her company and he wasn't sure he was ready for that, he knew he wasn't. 

So here he was, standing in her kitchen holding a bowl of prawn heads, wondering what the hell to do next with the crustaceans and the woman.

"Um do I put these in the bin?" he asked brandishing the bowl.

"No I'll put them in a bag and we'll freeze them until the garbo comes on Wednesday," she said holding out her hand for the bowl. 

Her T shirt was almost see-through thanks to the sloshing water, lace peaked through cotton, hard dark nipples poke through lace and Chiwetel tried to look away. 

But he couldn't and she wouldn't let him and there with a hand each on a steel bowl of googly-eyed prawn heads he pushed his body close to hers until her back hit the sink and her other hand slid around his neck and on tippy-toes, she pulled his face to hers, his soft full lips to hers, her tongue gently running a line along her lips. He answered and there in the kitchen on Christmas night, still surrounded by the debris of the evening, they properly and privately kissed for the first time. And they kissed again and the prawn-head bowl went to the counter and hands caressed backs and words were whispered and the shyness of before was forgotten and so was the spare room as his t shirt was ripped from his body and thrown so it lodged on the ceiling fan prong and sailed around the room. 

Her top followed and there in the kitchen his lips moved from her lips,to her neck as his fingers worked magic on the lace and her fingers ran paths down his back. 

All distance was forgotten then, all distance was lost as she pressed soft lips to the swell of her chest, the hardness of her nipples and she ran her hand down his back and whispered "No more distance, no more longing, touch me, kiss me, make love to me."

Her voice was husky, lustful, perfect.His shorts were full to bursting.

"Touch you, kiss you, make love to you where?" he asked just has huskily, his dark voice now smoke and chocolate and lust.

"Everywhere!" she sighed as his lips returned to her neck,her ear, her lips as he lifted her and she wrapped herself around him, tiny and perfect in his arms.

They walked the 10 steps to her room and the last clothing left as they entered and then in the Christmas moonlight he worshipped her body with his lips and hands and she did the same until, small but mighty pushed him back and sank down on the thickness of him, riding him to oblivion – finally feeling whole. 

Finally feeling loved, finally having him.

There was a mess in the kitchen, but they didn't care –they'd face it together tomorrow.

As she collapsed on his chest, sated and happy, that's all that mattered not the dead prawns and empty bottles - being together where they belonged.