It was winter. It was dark. It was thankfully not snowing. But the heating was out and Colin's fingers were frozen from practising his shots on the thriving streets of Soho.

He went home with barely any good photographs, restless and uneasy with the usual bore of going nowhere. Even if he had got a raise. Of sorts.

"Suze?"

He banged in at the door and stamped to get the snow off his boots and then he turned around and deliberately contemplated leaving again.

"Hello, Colin."

"Colin, Mr. Partners is here to see you," Suzette fussed.

"I know," Colin told her, "I saw him."

A dry chuckle floated to his ears, followed by a polite laugh from Suzette.

"Don't be silly, Colin," she said lightly, laying a hand on his arm, "Turn around, now. Come on." She tugged on his reluctant arm. "We can all sit down and have a civil conversation. Now, you sit there, Colin. Mr. Partners, can I get you something to drink?"

Vendice steepled his fingers in front of his mouth but dropped them at the question, shaking his head with a smile. "Nothing for me."

"What d'you want?" Colin asked, the moment she went to get something from what passed as the kitchen.

"Colin!"

"To make a deal," Vendice cut in softly, not disturbed by the younger man's hostility, "To bargain."

Colin sighed and stripped off his coat and gloves, handing them over to Suzette. "I told you I wasn't interested," he stressed, "And I don't appreciate you coming round to my place like this."

"We can make an appointment for tomorrow at my office," Vendice suggested, "You would need to take time off work."

Suzette came back with a glass and a tight look of apprehension hidden carefully beneath a calm exterior. "What was this deal, Mr. Partners?" she asked carefully, "We still have proof about your plan to ruin Napoly."

Colin struggled not to shut his eyes in embarrassment. From the knowing smile on Vendice's face, they were far beyond Partners' interest in Napoly. Vendice was determined and tenacious, but he knew when to leave well enough alone. And Napoly would be too public a risk for the next year or so.

No, this was something different. Much more personal. And Suzette didn't know about any of it.

Not those few summer nights; not the awkward meetings in autumn; certainly not that car advertisement that Suzette had loved and Colin had tried to forget.

"My company can use a good photographer," Vendice continued, "Someone who knows what the public wants. Someone who can see a product and photograph a dream."

"Someone who can sell things," Suzette said candidly.

Vendice raised an eyebrow but nodded approvingly. "In so many words," he agreed.

Colin thought it over. He stood up and went to the cupboard, pulling out a bottle of cheap whiskey because the cold had infiltrated his bones.

Something about this was making Suzette very suspicious. This man, sitting so calmly in the shabby armchair, looked just as comfortable in a poor couple's home as he did holding a champagne glass. Something about Vendice put her teeth on edge.

He was dangerous, that was it. Suzette had met all the types of men there were. The arrogant, well-born types and those who had made their fortunes after the war. She'd met street scum who flashed fifty pound notes and silver-spoon idiots who couldn't pay for the expensive things they liked. Vendice was nothing like them. He wasn't street scum, though she wouldn't have been surprised to know he came from the streets. And he wasn't all talk with no teeth, as her grandmother used to say.

"Colin almost told the world your shady dealings with those men," she introduced, "Why would you want him to work for you?"

"I like his talent," Vendice replied.

That was a satisfying answer. The man could see the pride deepen in those blue eyes. Suzette had a surprisingly sharp ear for business but she was too young and too inexperienced. One right answer and he had her blinded.

"Decent wage and so on."

She nodded slowly, calculating things in her head. "It sounds very fair."

"Good business always is," Vendice murmured, "Equipment will be paid for by the company, of course, and a dark room set up."

"What about an office- with a phone and a secretary and a coffee machine?" Colin mocked, "How about a studio, Partners. And an assistant to run around for me. How much do you want my talent?"

"No assistant. No studio. No coffee machine or secretary. I am running a business, not a holiday house. If in time I find your work satisfactory, I'll get you an office. And I'll promote you. Or, Colin, I could fire you."

Colin finished off the bit of whiskey he'd put in his glass. He disliked the burnt taste under his tongue. The sandpaper imprint it left in his mouth. "Partners, I'm not going to work for you. Ever."

"One last chance, Colin. Is this what you want for the rest of your life?" The man stood up, ignoring Suzette for that other pair of blue eyes. "Think about it, son. You know my number."

He said his goodbyes and thank yous to Suzette and left very efficiently.

Efficient. That was something Suzette found strange. He was efficient. He looked like the kind of man who would be as comfortable hiring a gang to throw helpless blacks out of a slum neighbourhood, as he would be giving a party for the richest and brightest in London. Suzette hadn't met many men like him. She wasn't sure she wanted to meet any more.

"Oh, Colin," she sighed, "Leave the booze and come here."

He hesitated, even, for just a second, but he came to her, taking her outstretched hand and sitting down on the bed next to her. "He won't come back," Colin promised, "No Vendice Partners, no Henley, no bother. Just us."

"That sounds nice," Suzette giggled, tipping her chin to give him access to her neck. "Colin, I was thinking."

"Stop the presses," Colin laughed, nipping the tender skin just on her collarbone, "That's a miracle, that is."

"Shut up! I'm serious! I was thinking- don't distract me- I was thinking you should meet him tomorrow. At his office, I mean."

Colin lifted his head and blinked surprised eyes at her. If he was hearing what he thought he was hearing, Suzette was telling him to take the job Vendice had offered.

"I think you should take the job Mr. Partners offered," Suzette completed, "If the salary is good and- and he gives you the good work."

"You want me to work for that leech?"

"Colin, I know he's made some mistakes…"

"Mistakes! Oh, he did more than that, Suze. We almost died because one of his hired thugs went mad."

She shook her head, determined not to see things from his angle. "That guy wouldn't have hurt us," she argued, "Not really. If we'd calmed down and just done as he said, he wouldn't have hurt us."

"He threatened us with a razor, Suzette. That's the kind of people Vendice works with!" He tightened his fingers on her shoulders, hoping somehow to get it through to her that she wasn't dealing with a man with an ordinary conscience. "He's not a nice man, Suze. He'll use us up and spit us out without any regrets."

"Well, what if we did it to him first?" she exclaimed, "You can work for him for a little while and then leave. Just like that. You're good at what you do, Colin, I saw the work you did for him last summer and it was great! He won't fire you. So anytime you want to leave, you can leave."

"It's not that simple, Suze."

She hit him on the arm. "Why not?" she demanded, "Just for a little while until something better comes along."

'Money will do until everything comes along.'

"I'm not living like this any more, Colin. I want a house with proper heating and separate rooms and a garden. I want to buy proper clothes and shoes and I want to get the morning paper and milk."

"We will, Suze, I promise."

"When? You just want to live in this rotten dump with all your freaks and your friends. But I can't!"

"I'm working to get the money, Suze. Downpayments are expensive, you know," he joked, trying to pry her hands away from her face, "Don't cry, lover. I'll work something out."

"What," she sobbed, "The one decent job offer and you won't take it."

"Vendice Partners is not a person either of us want to know."

"Oh, what do you know what I want," she snapped crossly, jerking her head up to glare into his eyes, "You're happy so long as there's food on the table and someone to keep you warm at night. All you really care about is your damned camera. What about what I want?"

"If you're so unhappy, how come you're still here, eh?" Colin barked back, "You tell me that. If you're so unhappy."

"Because I love you." She burst into a storm of tears all over again.

"Hell," he swore, cradling her head on his chest and petting her hair, "Oh, Suze, you know I love you too. You're my girl, remember? There's no one else but you I care about. I know you don't like Napoly and I'm trying, Suze, I'm really trying. You have to give me time."

"I'm so tired of all this," she gulped, "I just want things to be perfect, like I dreamed when I was a girl."

He grinned as she sniffed into his shirt, combing his fingers gently through her hair.

"A beautiful house and a beautiful garden, a husband and a baby," she whispered, "Everything to be perfect. Like in the movies, when everything comes right. They live happily ever after."

Colin held her tighter and lifted her chin. "Is that you want?" he asked seriously.

She smiled at him a little sheepishly but nodded. "I guess I'm not so modern, am I?"

"I love just like you are. Suzette, do you want to get married?"

She sat bolt upright in pure shock. "You're joking."

"No," Colin laughed, "I'm serious. Let's get married. I love you and you love me. That's all that matters."

"But Henley…"

Colin's euphoria dimmed. "That old queen," he grumbled, "Has he sent you any papers to sign?"

Suzette shook her head.

"What's taking so long?" Colin demanded. But he took one look at her wet face and her red eyes and didn't have the heart to get carried away on other issues. "Never mind," he dismissed, pulling her close and kissing her, "We can be engaged. And when the divorce comes through, we can get married. There's no hurry. I'll wait forever for you."

She dissolved into what seemed to be a mixture of crying and laughing all at the same time, kissing him and sliding her hands into his shirt with a desperation that was completely at odds to her usual shyness. Colin felt his own blood ignite at the feel of her cool fingers on his skin.

And why not? If they loved each other and wanted to be married.

So he groaned and followed her lead, shucking clothing away and taking her shivering body under the blankets for warmth. He stroked her but she was impatient, rocking against him with her eyes tightly closed. She'd never felt so welcoming before and he had to force himself not to rut like an animal. He had to remind himself that this was Suzette and he had to be careful of her. He loved her; he could never hurt her.

Slow movements, rocking together on the bed. Watching her as she moved with him in that curious mixture of shy abandonment. Watching as she flushed and sparkled and bit her lip in that endearing frown of concentration. And then the final moment when she pressed tighter against him and he was so close to her, so infinitely joined with her that he didn't want to let go ever again.

Lying back and breathing deeply. Colin was content with this, excited and proud and confused all in one go.

The next morning he went to Vendice's office. He ignored the strictures of the receptionist and the secretaries. He ignored the looks that people gave him as he walked through the main office. He didn't bother to knock at the door before he entered.

Vendice looked up from a paper full of numbers and strange words and smiled that arrogant smile. "Reconsidered?" he asked.

"There's a few things to sort out," Colin warned, "What's my salary?"

When Vendice told him, Colin had no more questions. "Alright."