She arrived in the office late, her golden hair damp from the heavy rain, in an unhappy frame of mind. She hung her dripping coat up and made her way to the kitchen to find Strike there, leaning heavily on the worktop, favouring his good leg, but still making tea for them both.

"Thanks," she said as he offered her a mug, and she took it, still tense. Leaning close to him on the worktop.

"No problem," he responded with a warm smile. "Morning."

"Cormoran?" she asked stiffly.

"Yup?"

"What do you think of me?"

Looking puzzled, he thought for a moment. She liked how he was a man of thinking, who didn't answer her questions lightly or flippantly. And that he was so calm and solid. Most of the time, anyway.

"Well, you are brilliant at this job. And organised. Very funny. Clever…" he petered out, now watching her face closely. "Why are you asking me that?"

"But what do you think of me? As a woman?"

Strike looked more puzzled, and his eyebrows knitted together in narrow lines, but he still answered her question honestly.

"Robin, any man with eyes would describe you as beautiful, you must know that," he replied with feeling.

She huffed a little indecisively, then muttered her thanks. Then explained. "I went on a date last night and he was really unpleasant about me. He said I'm not in touch with being a woman. Since Matthew and I split, I just can't believe I'll find anyone decent."

Strike smiled widely. "A date?" he asked with amusement. "Did you now?"

She punched him playfully on the arm.

"Well Robin, you most certainly are in touch with your womanly side, and that loser was wrong. And you will find happiness," he reassured her. "Just a soon as you can learn the art of subtlety."

She punched him lightly again, but he caught her hand this time, and held it. "Enough with the disability abuse," he complained with a wide smile. Robin couldn't help smiling back at him. He never failed to cheer her up.

He released her hand and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, gently. "You always cheer me up," he said, mirroring her own thoughts.

"Me too," she agreed nodding, moving to her desk to start sorting through the post.

They had been spending much more time together just lately. Since the divorce, Robin seemed keen to work longer in the office, learning the ropes, and they often spent their evenings together, eating take away and talking into the early hours. Work and pleasure seemed to walk a blurry line. He enjoyed her intelligent company immensely, but he was worried he might scare her off, if he told her, so he stayed quiet, but he thought she probably knew. She was so amazing, so gorgeous and so genuine. What did she see in him, he wondered? He had basically no money, a poky rented flat and he smoked and drank pretty heavily. His failed long-term relationship with a highly strung liar still haunted him. And he had just the one good leg. She had everything going for her, despite what the stupid date had claimed. But she seemed to like spending her time with him too, nonetheless.

As if reading his mind, she looked over and confirmed this. "Cormoran, I really like hanging out with you," she murmured. "You make me feel safe." He walked over and patted her shoulder in reply. Then he snatched two bourbon biscuits from her, and ate them one after the other.

"Thief!" she shouted to his departing back as he slipped back into his office.

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Later that evening, they locked the door and sat in companiable closeness on the old brown leather sofa, laughing together, with an open bottle of Burgundy, and freshly delivered Thai takeaway.

Robin was happily spooning different dishes into Strike's mouth for him to try. She wiped away a small drip from his mouth and her finger lingered on his lip for a long while. He looked at her. She looked at him. She leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Strike froze.

He really didn't want to take advantage of her, even though he wanted to kiss her back. She felt his hesitation, and paused, pulling back to look at him.

"That was awkward wasn't it?" she commented inadequately. "I know I've had a drink, but I've wanted to do that for a long time, Cormoran."

"Really?" said Strike with a questioning look. His eyes remained on her face, drinking in her features, wondering what he should do.

"Yes really. I just needed an excuse. I love working with you, and I don't want to spoil it. But… I really like you. And I think I have feelings for you."

"Feelings?"

"Yes, feelings, Cormoran. Like when I look at you, I want to kiss you. And other things."

Strike simply stared at her, speechless. He couldn't help a slow smile creeping over his face.

"Really?" he said again. "Are you sure?"

"Yup," she confirmed, and leant over to kiss him again. This time, he responded to her and they kissed for as long time.

"God, that was incredible, Robin," panted Strike, breaking away to draw a breath. He stroked her hair

She smiled. "Mmm," she said, not trusting her own voice, her eyes still on his lips.

"What…what might this mean for us working together Robin?" he asked. "I don't want to mess things up."

"D'you know Matt always used to be jealous of you? He always thought there was something going on. I think he just knew how much I respected you. You always listened to me. You always understood me. He never did really," she said sadly. "What I guess I'm trying to say, is that I want to try this and see where it might go, but if you don't, I'll understand. How do you feel about me?"

"I've felt strongly about you for a long time Robin, probably even before you got married. When I saw you in your wedding dress, my heart nearly broke. And then you ran outside after me and hugged me. I very nearly tore you away with me."

"And by strongly, you mean…?"

"I think you are amazing. I want to kiss you too. And those other things you mentioned…" he faded away, eyes on hers, hungry and intense.

"Well, I think we've laid all our cards on the table now," she smiled at him, still leaning close to his face. She took his hand and led him up to the flat, still grinning, food forgotten. He liked the feel of her slim hand in his. He liked her leading the way.

She had been in his flat before, on a few occasions. She had always felt comfortable there, Strike was meticulously tidy with his army background and although sparse, everything was clean and ordered. She kicked off her shoes and put her arms around his neck. She stretched up on tiptoes to kiss him again and stroke his face and hair. He let her lead, following her movements and enjoying the sensations. She took his shirt off, carefully unbuttoning it, and hanging it on the back of the chair. She stroked his chest, tracing along the outline of his shoulders and down to his belly button. He shivered with pleasure. They looked at each other, smiling, happy. There was no need for words, they knew each other so well.

He moved his hands to the buttons of her blouse and gently undid each one, hooking his fingers under her bra straps as they fell from her shoulders. Blouse removed, he stroked her neck and arms, and stomach. Shivering with pleasure, they moved to the bedroom, and removed her trousers and then his. She looked at him and saw his hesitation, with his leg. She kissed him again and stroked his leg, curious and sad that he had to fight so hard everyday with his disability. He was so brave, so strong. It made her heart break. They moved under his bedcovers, which smelt of aftershave and smoke, strongly masculine and so familiar to her.

They made love tenderly, with new revelations of familiarity and sensual pleasure. He was an attentive lover, more intuitive than Matthew and less inhibited. She found herself enjoying pleasure she hadn't imagined possible, and was overwhelmed with her longing for this man. Afterwards she lay exhausted and spent, in his strong arms. It just felt right, she couldn't explain it any other way.

"Stay the night?" he asked, ever practical.

"Of course," she reassured him. They showered at the same time, rubbing soap on each other, him leaning on her when he needed to, then found pleasure together again back in bed. She wore his t-shirt, used his toothbrush, revelled in him.

In the morning, Robin woke refreshed after a deep comforting sleep curled up with him. His side of the bed was now empty, but still warm. She smelt coffee and went to find him making her a cup, wearing just his boxers. Circling her arms around his waist, she hugged him and grinned.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning," he responded with a look that lit up his eyes. "Didn't you want breakfast in bed?"

She sipped her coffee as he offered her a croissant. She took a bite, commenting, "Let's go back to bed." He smiled again.

Later that day, they walked in the park, hand in hand, and enjoyed the late spring sunshine. She noticed that he hadn't smoked at all, and wondered whether she should say something.

"No, I don't want to," he said, reading her mind. "Really, I don't."

They had a late lunch at Nick and Ilsa's. Ilsa guessed straight away, and made it clear that she was delighted and hugged them both. Nick was more laid back but jabbed Strike in the arm and said "Well done Oggy, mate."

Strike couldn't help grinning back, and his arm snaked around Robin's shoulder and stayed there until the food was served. She leaned on him, happy and relaxed with his childhood friends. She had never been this comfortable with any of Matthew's friends.

As they lay in bed together later that evening, back in his flat, they discussed plans to paint the office. Robin felt happier than she had been in a long time. A knot of excitement in her chest reminded her that this beautiful man wanted to be with her. He was so solid and dependable and she knew he loved her. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and sighed contentedly.

"Cormoran, I think I've fallen in love with you," she said simply. "I know it's too soon. But…it's just the way it is."

"I love you too Robin," he replied with a catch in his voice, and they kissed again, and a new wave of happiness threatened to overwhelm her.