A/N: I loved the character of Sasha in series 10 but I felt he was under-appreciated in the fandom as I've struggled to find many stories with him in. So I decided to change that by writing this fanfic!
I should probably explain that it is set after the last episode, however, under the assumption that there was a very different ending. I have chosen Ruth to survive (yay) and her and Harry to be together (obvs). Sasha never shot her, nor did it turn out that he was not Harry's biological son. So there are some lovely father-son bonding moments between Sasha and Harry throughout! Also, Tariq is still alive (yayay). In this version of events Sasha's mother has returned to Russia with Ilya but Sasha has remained in the UK, still working for the FSB at its London base. The plot focusses on Sasha's relationship with an agent in MI5's section D called Emma, who is my creation entirely.
It's all a bit far-fetched and fluffy but I hope you enjoy. I've written quite a lot of this story already but I'll see the reaction I get from this first chapter before I upload any more.
Disclaimer: All rights to the BBC and Kudos, etc. They own all the characters with the exception Emma.
Chapter One
Her fingers twisted around the toggles of his hoody absent-mindedly as her head rested delicately on his broad shoulder. Her free hand brushed his neck. Her nose breathed in the lingering smell of his aftershave as his face nuzzled into her scalp. His right arm held onto her waist, securely but not too tight, whilst his other arm rested on his lap. Her legs were tucked up behind her as she leant into him. It was so easy, so easy for them to be content together.
It was a Saturday night and for the first night in weeks, neither Sasha nor Emma was working. Instead of using their rare free evening to go out, the couple, exhausted and somewhat reluctant to engage in any more social functions after the results of the previous ones that they had attended whilst working, opted for a night on the sofa with a takeaway, a bottle of red and The X Factor.
"I can't believe you're making me watch this shit!" Sasha had retorted after the first act of the show was half way through their song. But, thirty minutes into the programme and he was undeniably engrossed, as Emma had promised he would be.
The last act to perform was receiving their critiques from the judges when the pair had finished their meal and began canoodling on the couch. Sasha, being the red-blooded male he was, was hoping for something a little bit more than cuddling later on though. So, when the adverts began, he felt prompted to try his chances. He gently began moving his hand that was wrapped around his girlfriend up and down, expertly lifting her top up gradually as he did so. He then tilted her head up towards him so that her eyes gazed into his. He placed a delicate kiss on her mouth, moved away briefly to stare into her eyes once more before allowing his lips to return to hers, this time lingering there for much longer. He kissed her passionately and pulled her torso closer into his body. Her arms clung onto his neck as her legs moved to wrap around his waist. He carefully lowered her down so she could lie on the sofa, kissing her lustfully as he carried out the maneuver. As he pushed down on her to caress her lips, she arched her back in order to maximise the contact between them. He felt her breasts press closely against him; teasing him, making him want her even more. One of his hands began sliding down her stomach, edging towards the waistband of her trousers. Just as he was blindly unzipping them, and her hands were making their down to his jogging bottoms, the phone started to ring. It was Emma's work phone. They both knew what was coming.
"Leave it…" Sasha pleaded as Emma's hand reached out behind her, fumbling for the ringing object on the coffee table.
"But it might be important," Emma tried, as she began breaking away from him.
Sasha saw his night of passion slipping away from him before his eyes, and in attempt to claw it back he argued: "You've been working too much recently. Harry can manage without you tonight, whereas I cannot."
The continuously ringing mobile phone suggested otherwise. Emma, ignoring Sasha's pleas, eventually got hold of her phone and managed a muffled: "Hello?" as Sasha persisted in kissing her.
"Emma, you need to come in; we have an emergency," her boss hurriedly told her.
"Well, it better be, Harry, because this is my first night off in ages," Emma told him, angry that her blissful evening had been rudely interrupted.
"I just got a red-flash from Six saying that one of our most-wanted has just entered the country and there's intel suggesting that he's planning an attack to be carried out tomorrow at a location yet to be discovered. Is that enough of an emergency for you?" Harry explained in his characteristically calm-yet-unnervingly-dramatic tone that his colleagues were so familiar with.
"Mmmm," was all Emma could manage in response, due to Sasha's tongue occupying her mouth at that moment in time.
"Emma, as much as I am grateful for your ability to remain so composed in times of such urgency, I wonder, are you preoccupied currently?" Harry asked, just loudly enough for Sasha to pick up on too.
Before Emma had a chance to answer, Sasha withdrew his lips from her mouth and snatched the phone from her hands in an instant, displaying his sharp moves earned from an FSB career.
"Yes Father, she is indeed preoccupied, with me. And we were having a lovely time until your phone call came along and spoilt it all. So if you could be so kind as to let us finish what we started then it would be much appreciated," Sasha told Harry.
Emma gasped, mortified at her boyfriend's words. Sasha, however, grinned broadly. Harry let out a sigh. Ruth, who was listening to the call on speaker phone in the office, chuckled softly.
"Well, as sorry as I am to have to put a premature end to your…fornicating, I really rather think a matter of national emergency takes precedence right now. So, I shall send Dimitri round to pick Emma up and bring her to The Grid. And seeing as Anglo-Russian relations are blossoming so wonderfully at the moment, you may as well join us on this operation and come along too. We could do with an extra pair of hands after all. For, I wouldn't want to get in the way of love young's dream by separating the pair of you. But, just make sure those extra pair of hands do not wander when you get here. That will be all," Harry ended the conversation abruptly, not waiting for his son's reply.
"You're so sexy when you're stern," Ruth told Harry as he placed the phone down.
"Oh, don't you start as well. I'd like to think at least one male on this operation won't be completely blinded by lust," he told her, possibly joking, possibly not, she couldn't tell.