Strike had taken a Tramadol and had collapsed into bed. He didn't want to think about cases, or the office, or most importantly Robin and the missed opportunity at the pub. He wanted obliteration from all thought and the heavy blanket of sleep. He had no memory of falling asleep when his phone rang. He answered it robotically without even fully waking up. "Strike?" It was a man's voice and one he didn't recognize. Strike pushed himself in bed and rubbed his eyes forcing himself to shake the remnants of the Tramadol out of his brain. His voice raspy he answered, "yea, who is this?"

"It's Ryan Murphy. I'm sorry to be calling so late."

Now Strike was really awake. Why was Ryan Murphy calling at, he checked his nightstand clock, two in the morning? "What's happened?"

"Well, I know she will probably never forgive me for calling but I thought you should know. Robin's had a break-in."

Fear ripped through Strike's body like a lightning bolt, "Is she okay?"

"Yea, yea, she's fine. He went around the locks with what we think was a rather big axe and tried to just bust through the door. It triggered the burglar alarm and I think the loud noise and flashing lights scared him off. But this wasn't random. He definitely wanted her."

Strike was fully awake now and had already swung his leg and stump over on the side of the bed. "Where is she?"

"Well, that is why I'm calling. She refused to leave her apartment. We told her to stay at a hotel for the night or go to a friend's house. And honestly, I figured she would have called you, but she was insistent that she was fine, and she would stay put."

Strike shook his head, "fucking hell".

"Yea, that is why I called. I'm not trying to interfere in her business but if I were her partner I'd want to know"

"Yea, thanks. I appreciate the call."

"This was definitely targeted so you better watch your back too."

"I will. Thanks again Murphy". And they rung off. Strike was furious. Of course, she wasn't going to leave. Of course, she wouldn't call him. So bloody stubborn and unwilling to even consider her safety. Strike downed four Ibuprofen, rubbed his stump with cream and put on his prosthetic. She wouldn't answer the phone from him, not now, she would know why he was calling.

The police officers had been kind enough to board up her door for her. Robin reset the alarm, poured herself a big glass of wine and sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket willing herself to calm down, but it was of no use. There was no amount of self-defense classes or real-life experiences that would ever prepare her enough for the fear of hearing somebody trying to break into her apartment to kill her. She didn't want to cry but with everyone gone, sitting alone in her apartment, the weight of it all overwhelmed her and she allowed the tears to fall. The loneliness of her life enveloped her as she sat there scared and exhausted. She had almost finished her glass of wine and the tears had started to subside with hiccups when she heard the loud bang on the door with a deep recognizable voice, "Robin, it's me open up." The loud noise made her heart race and she jumped on the couch almost spilling the remaining wine on her pajamas. "Jesus Christ Cormoran!" she yelled as she opened the door. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He blew past her not even waiting for her to let him in. He turned around, locked the door, set the alarm and started to check all the windows. "I'm on the third floor. I doubt anybody is trying to break-in through the window." Robin stood in the middle of her apartment with her arms crossed furious that he had arrived. "Who told you that I had a break-in?" Cormoran didn't answer, he was coming out of her bedroom when she put the pieces together, "Did Murphy call you? He called you, didn't he?" Cormoran finally stopped moving and looked at her, really looked at her. She was pale with dark circles under her eyes, and she was shaking and he didn't think that was from the chilly air. She looked small and vulnerable in her pajamas, a light t-shirt paired with a pair of shorts, and the image of some nutter breaking through her door and trying to kill her made Strike want to throw up. "He was right to call me. You refused to leave your apartment. Is your plan to stay here alone?"

"Well he's not going to come back tonight is he?" Robin answered defensively.

"Bloody hell Robin. Do you hear yourself?"

"If I was Barclay, you wouldn't have run over, and Murphy wouldn't have called you."

"You are right he wouldn't, and I wouldn't, but you are not fucking Barclay. You are my partner!"

"Yes, and as your partner I can handle this!"

Cormoran had tried to control his temper, but he was tired, his leg hurt, and he was done with Robin being so infuriatingly stubborn.

"You want honesty? Right? That's what you said at the pub that you didn't want me to hide my injuries because you couldn't afford to lose me, right? That's what you said."

Robin silently nodded in agreement

"It's the same for me Robin. Don't tell me you are fine when you most clearly are not! You are shaking like leaf, and you've had somebody try to axe their way into your apartment! You are not weak for being upset you are fucking human!" Robin wasn't ready to cave although she could feel the tears welling up behind her eyes. "I don't want you to think I can't handle the job." It came out as a mere whisper and Robin averted her eyes not wanting to see Strike's reaction.
"Bloody hell Robin! How long have we been partners? Five years? And you still think you need to prove to me you are up for the job? Your name is on the door for Christ's sake! You are a brilliant detective but that doesn't prevent you from being scared when somebody is trying to kill you."

She shot back, "You aren't scared. Barclay isn't scared."

Strike leaned on the kitchen table trying to take the weight off his leg, "Of course I'm scared. If I wasn't I'd be dead. It is the fear that keeps you safe, but you can't carry that alone Robin. Please let me help you." He took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes, "I can't lose you. I can't afford to lose you Robin. Let me worry a little bit." She couldn't keep the tears back any longer. She was exhausted and the adrenaline had started to fade and all she wanted was to feel safe for even five minutes. She rushed into his arms and cried, burying her face into his chest. His big arms wrapping around her, his head leaning on top of hers. He held her there until the crying had slowed and she pulled away to wipe her face on her bathrobe sleeve. He smiled looking at her. Her face was tear-stained and tired but for the first time Strike realized that he didn't want anybody else to hold her like that but him. He took her by the hand and led her to the couch where he sat down on one end and indicated that she was to sit next to him, which she did silently. He grabbed the blanket that she had left on the floor, gently pulled her head against his chest, wrapping both his arm and the blanket around her. He kissed the top of her head and said, "Sleep. I'll stay awake." Robin didn't say anything for a long time and Strike started to think she had fallen asleep as he felt her body relax against his but then she stirred, sat back up and leaned one hand against his chest and said, "thank you for staying Cormoran. I always feel safe when I'm with you." And then the courage arrived, he leaned in and gently kissed her. It was delicate and sweet. He didn't want her to feel it was meant to lead to anything else. He pulled back not sure if that had been the right thing to do but when he looked in her eyes he didn't see disgust or horror or shock he saw a peacefulness that he wasn't sure he had ever seen on Robin's face before. She pushed herself up a little and kissed him back. She wanted him to know that she wanted to kiss him too. She gave a little hum and snuggled back against his chest. Neither said anything and although Strike had promised to stay awake it wasn't long until the Tramadol won the battle over the adrenaline and Strike's head fell back against the couch and he too had fallen asleep.