Robin sat close to Strike on the comfy old sofa, leaning happily on his shoulder, watching a touchingly romantic film that had made her cry already, together with Nick and Ilsa in their lounge. Strike's arm was across the back of the sofa, almost touching her shoulders, and she was hyper aware of his proximity and every movement he made, which filled her with a longing she couldn't readily explain. Ilsa shot Nick a look as if to say, 'look at them', whilst smiling, which Robin caught. The four friends were relaxed had been laughing and joking around. Some wine and beer had been consumed, along with several delicious curry dishes from the local Indian restaurant called 'Yak and Yeti'. Robin was currently staying with the couple in their spare room, after her ugly split from Matthew.

As the film ended, Ilsa hugged and kissed both Strike and Robin profusely on the cheeks to say goodnight, before gathering Nick so they could retire upstairs to bed. Strike shifted again, muttering about needing to get back but it was very half hearted and he clearly wasn't ready to go home yet. Robin moved so she was facing him and smiled.

"D'you know, I've only had one glass all night?" she said proudly.

"Me too, I've just had the one beer. Part of our health regime, right?" Strike agreed.

"I think Nick noticed though," added Robin. "I saw him frowning during the film."

"He probably was struggling to follow the storyline. No, of course I shouldn't say that, he's an important consultant in his hospital, full of brains."

Robin smiled again. She felt comfortable in their house; they had done everything they could to make her feel welcome. Having Strike there was even better as far as they were concerned. Robin was relaxed in a shirt and jeans, but Strike had come straight from the office and was in his usual clothes. She wasn't ready for him to go home either. She had felt the pull of attraction to him for some time now, but wasn't really sure how he felt about her. All his previous girlfriends were incredibly attractive, and Robin wasn't sure she was in their league. Also, the fact that they worked together, might mean that Strike was unwilling to consider a relationship with her. It would certainly complicate things. But Robin had realised gradually that she could think of little else but Strike.

"Penny for them?" asked Strike.

Robin started guiltily. If only he knew what she had been thinking about. She blushed a little, then decided, on a whim, to come clean. They had always tried to be as honest as they could with each other.

"I was actually thinking about you," she admitted.

"Me?"

"Yes, I can't think of much else these days," she explained.

Strike looked at her quickly. "What do you mean?" he responded deliberately.

"Just that, Cormoran. I think I'm developing feeling for you. I know what you're going to say, that it's too soon after Matthew for anything, but you asked…" she trailed off.

She looked at his hand, still close to hers on the sofa cushion. Her hand reached for his. She held it, heart thumping in her chest, head giddy with her own courage.

"Oh Robin," said Strike gently, and she was sure she would get the brush off from him next. Instead, his fingers closed around hers, tighter, and she looked up to see an expression of happiness and sadness fighting each other, on his face.

"What?" she asked.

"It is too soon," he agreed with her. "But…you are so beautiful, and I could never say no to you."

He reached over to touch her hair, stroking it with the back of his fingers, all the while his eyes transfixed on her lips. He leaned forward to kiss her, and their lips met in what she could swear was a crackle of electricity. They kissed for a long time, and she was left in no doubt as to how he felt about her.

Some time later, he rose to leave, and she followed him out into the hallway.

As he leant back against the wall, she placed her hands either side of his body and leaned up for another kiss.

Again, her courage surprising her, she whispered quietly, "Stay with me."

"What?" he echoed her earlier question.

"Stay here, tonight, with me," she repeated. "Nothing has to happen."

"Nothing?" replied Strike with a sad smile. "The kissing has really turned me on Robin."

"I just mean I wanted you to sleep next to me tonight, Cormoran. We don't have to do anything so soon, but I'm not ruling anything out. I want you too."

"God, I want you Robin, but I don't want to rush this."

They held hands as they climbed the stairs. Strike borrowed a toothbrush and lay down in his boxers, and Robin climbed into the bed, next to him. She explored his amputated leg gently and curiously with her fingers. "Does it hurt when I do this?" she asked with concern.

"No," he replied. "Only when I'm a dickhead and don't look after it."

She lay with her head on his chest, listening to his heart beating rapidly. She hoped it was because of the same thrill she felt. He stroked her hair tenderly and she kissed his chest, the hairs there curling in a multitude of directions. They felt relaxed together, as she had thought they would, but part of her longed for more. She was quite aware that Strike could offer her more, as she could feel his hard swelling through his boxer shorts.

She moved so she could kiss his lips again, but he stopped her. "Robin, if you kiss me now, like you did earlier, I won't be able to stop myself, I'm just warning you now."

She smiled with mischief. "Who says I want you to stop?" she asked him.

They moved together then, giving each other pleasure and release as men and women the world over had done before them. Strike was a gentle, intuitive lover and she really enjoyed the experience. She had only slept with Matt before, discounting the traumatic rape many years before, and she found she could relax, let him lead and just learn what he liked without judgment or embarrassment. As she lay next to him, tired and satisfied, she smiled in the darkness, at just how enjoyable she had found the lovemaking.

Kissing him, she told him this. "Mmm. That was just perfect, Cormoran."

He just hugged her then, lost for words at first. "The good thing is, Nick and Ilsa leave the house at the crack of dawn, so they'll never know," stated Strike.

"Oh, believe me, they'll know," smiled Robin. "I won't be able to tame my smile for days!"

Robin settled down next to Strike in the bed, her body heavy with sleep, enjoying the thought of him sleeping next to her, revelling in his aftershave and masculine smell. She laid her head on his shoulder and threw her arm across his wide chest. "This feels so good," she murmured, and slept well for the first time in many nights.

In the morning they woke, and looked at one another, smiles spreading onto their faces. They made love again then in the daylight, slowly and without any hint of awkwardness.

"Will you tell my boss I'll be late in?" asked Robin as she drank from a mug of tea that Strike had passed her, as they longed in the kitchen later.

"He sounds like a right bastard, your boss," joked Strike.

"Nah, he's alright really," said Robin, playing along as she spread some butter on a thick slice of toast.

"So, how's this going to work now then?" he quizzed.

"Dunno," she said honestly. "But we'll figure it out. I'm going in the shower."

"Do you need a hand with that?" asked Strike with a smile full of desire, as he followed her upstairs.

Later, they walked into the office together, hand in hand. Despite the nature of her job, sometimes dangerous and dark, Robin couldn't recall the last time she had felt so carefree. It was uplifting; Strike was so good for her.

Strike, too, was feeling upbeat. The mess that had been his relationship with Charlotte had finally been laid to rest and he was enjoying the feel of his positive emotions, running rampant through his mind and body again, but this time with a good woman in a healthy new relationship, one who brought out the best in him.

"Robin," said Strike in a moment of pure honesty. "I've had feelings for you too, for a long time. I'm just better than you at hiding my feelings."

"And that's a good thing how?" retorted Robin.

"Good point, good point."