Alex finally left Blunt's office at 3am, after around an hour of arguing, negotiating and thinly veiled threats that had only ended when she promised 'never to see that boy again'.
She headed for the taxi rank at the end of the road, pulling a mobile phone out of her bag as she walked. It was her private phone, purchased for her by Tom Harris and registered in his name. As far as she knew, MI6 weren't monitoring its use, and she used it very rarely, maintaining the illusion that her other phone was her only one.
A bleary-sounding Tom picked up on the fifth ring.
"Alex? Where'd you disappear off to?"
"An old friend showed up."
"Uh huh. The tall handsome one all the girls were gossiping about, I assume?"
"Yeah. It was David."
She could practically hear Tom raise his eyebrows.
"Wow. So he actually showed up? Where'd you go?"
"Just went and got a drink. Then we were rudely interrupted by MI6."
"Ah. Security services salted your game, huh?"
"As always. Just got out of a nice long chat with Blunt and Jones. I'm not allowed to see him again."
"So now you want to see him even more."
"How'd you guess?"
"Footloose."
Alex blinked. Years of friendship meant that she could normally follow Tom's random tangents, but every now and then, he stumped her.
"You've lost me."
"Ok, so you're the girl, right? And MI6 is your overbearing, reverend Dad. And David's Kevin Bacon."
"Oh. Of course, David's Kevin Bacon. How did I not see this?"
"Shut up. The religious Dad bans his daughter from dancing with Kevin Bacon, which just makes her want to dance with him even more."
"Have you thought of writing a book? Seriously - your psychological insights blow my mind."
"Thank you." Tom sounded genuinely pleased with himself. Alex reminded herself that it was 3 o'clock in the morning, and she probably shouldn't expect too much.
"So, Tom?"
"Yeah?"
"If this whole situation is Footloose, does that make you Sarah Jessica Parker?"
Tom laughed.
"You know me so well. See you tomorrow, bitch."
"Arsehole."
Alex hung up, grinning, and climbed into a taxi.
