Chapter Nine
Historic
Post-season Seven
"Wow, that was really interesting," Kate says as they exit the Tower of London, as she tucks her phone back in her pocket.
Rick grabs her hand and leads her down the sidewalk. "It was, but I'm starving. You up for some lunch?"
She almost says no, since they'd had breakfast right before the tour, but her stomach betrays her with a loud rumble. "I guess so," she jokes with a squeeze of her husband's fingers. "Do you already have a place in mind?"
"I do, actually. It's a couple miles from here, let's get a taxi." He grins when they pull up to the alley leading to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, and he tells her some of the pub's history while they wait for a table.
When he mentions that Arthur Conan Doyle was a patron, she can't help but grin. "No wonder you wanted to come here," she teases, looping her arm through his. "Trying to absorb some residual energy from him? Am I not enough of a muse anymore?"
Rick's eyes widen with panic. "No. God no. You're the only inspiration I need." He tilts her face to his and bends down, presses a soft kiss to her mouth. "But it can't hurt," he teases when they part.
Kate rolls her eyes, but just then she hears the hostess call out their name. Her mouth falls open when they step inside the dim pub. She can tell it's old, having been rebuilt 350 years before after the Great Fire, and despite the lack of interior lighting or decoration, it has a certain charm.
The hostess leads them to seats at the bar itself, and they both order a pint to sip while they look over the menu.
"Dickens also drank here," Rick mutters in her ear.
Kate chuckles. "That's not a surprise. He drank everywhere."
"Probably true."
By the time they return to the hotel hours later, after dinner, they're both exhausted. They collapse on the couch, each sprawled out on opposite ends, and at Rick's prodding, Kate shifts so her feet are on his lap.
"Yes please," she moans when his thumb digs into her arch. "Today was fun, but holy crap I'm tired."
Rick chuckles. "Me too. I wanted to try to do something in the morning before the show, but we can sleep in if you want, maybe have a lazy breakfast." He drops her feet to the floor and tugs her onto his lap. "Among other lazy things."
Kate loops her arms around his neck and grins as her mouth descends onto his. "If that's lazy, we're doing something wrong," she teases between kisses.
Rick hooks his arm under her legs and stands with her in his arms. "I'll show you doing lazy right," he growls, carrying her to bed.