London; 1959

The flight from Washington had been long and exhausting, Napoleon thought to himself as he made his way through the airport, dodging the still screaming toddler from the flight who was now straining in his mother's arms to grab onto anything that passed in an effort to spread his misery.

All the American agent wanted was a stiff drink and to find whoever had been assigned to collect him. The first, it seemed, was highly unlikely as he eyed the lack of a bar in Arrivals and wistfully recalled the ice cold whiskey he'd received at Washington National as he waited for his flight to be called.

The second, however, was apparently about to happen as he stepped through the glass double doors separating the main terminals from collection and his eyes landed on a grim man in a cheap grey suit waiting stoically.

Exhaling deeply at the sight of another boring agent, he reluctantly made the turn to approach the man just as a voice rang out through the hall.

"Napoleon!" He turned on instinct and felt a smile break out onto his features as the crowd before him parted to reveal a ray of sunshine on this dismally grey day his plane had arrived in.

She was breath-taking in canary yellow pedal-pushers and a black tank top while her ruby fingernails were daintily holding a piece of card with his name scrawled in her familiar loopy handwriting.

"Eva Green." They enveloped each other in a hug before the words had left his mouth and Napoleon was once again reminded of how small she was compared to his broad stature.

"Oh, it's so good to see you!" She gushed as they pulled apart and grinned at each other. "When they told me that the CIA's most narcissistic agent was due to land, I knew that no other welcome would be satisfactory."

"You know me so well." His smile still hadn't faded as he bent down to pick up his discarded suitcase and wrap his free arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to press a kiss into her hair.

They still hadn't talked about what happened that night at the hotel and Napoleon was hoping that was because Eva had been unexpectedly shipped back home barely a week after it happened and not because she was regretting it.

He let his gaze flicker over to the blonde as she yelled at the driver of the car in front of them and withheld a smirk as she flipped him a very un-ladylike hand gesture as she overtook him.

Damn he hoped she wasn't regretting it because he sure as hell wasn't. Truthfully, it had been on his mind since the very second they parted from their embrace and had been playing on a loop ever since.

Not seeing his partner in far more than just crime-fighting, for three months had been slowly killing him especially as there appeared to be no reason for it.

One minute they were lip-locked (God, he sounded like a teenage girl) outside the hotel and then they were in separate cars and the next thing he hears is that her Commander called her back home and suddenly he was carrying her suitcases down from her rented apartment and saying goodbye to her outside Washington National.

"Get out of my way!" Her eyes were wild as the tiny red car ahead swerved in and out of the lanes and his driver leant on the horn of the car she'd giddily led him to. "Arsehole!" God he'd missed her.

"And I'm going to show you all of London!" She proclaimed, the amber liquid sloshing against the sides of the crystal tumbler she was holding as she practically spun around the room. "All of it!" She insisted.

"I have been to London before." He reminded her. "I've done Oxford Street, regent Street, Bond Street…all the streets." He laughed as she plopped down beside him on the cream carpet of his new home.

"I'm not talking about the boring sights." She pressed, their shoulders nudging each other as she spoke, her penchant for speaking rather expressively through arm movements. "Parliament, The Tower, London Bridge…" She blew a raspberry at the thought of dragging him around all those obviously touristy, though admittedly interesting, sights. "I'm going to show you my London."

"Your London?" He laughed, reaching for the bottle she had produced from the trunk of her small car as they pulled up outside the apartment block.

"My London." She repeated. "There are all these little places that nobody ever finds because they're too busy posing with bloody Beefeaters." She accepted the refill gratefully. "Oh we're going to have a wonderful time, Napoleon." She sighed, leaning into his shoulder as the low lighting shone on the drink in her hand.

Napoleon grinned as she nestled further into the crumpled material of his short, the blazer he'd strode through the airport in now draped over one of the piles of moving boxes that had arrived the day before.

The apartment was completely bare; the only usable rooms being the kitchen and bathroom and the only furniture in the space was the sofa they were currently leant against as they sprawled on the floor, and a double bed with a neat pile of blankets on top that were obviously courtesy of Eva. But it warmed his heart. He had everything he could possibly want right here; a roof, a new mission and his girl snoozing on his shoulder.

"Come on you." He slid the glass from her grasp trying to avoid any stains on the pristine carpet only a handful of hours after taking ownership of the place.

"Hmm?" Oh, she was so drunk, he laughed to himself as he repositioned her against the sofa and stood. "I'm tired, 'poleon." She murmured, her head lolling back against the material.

"I can see." He bit back a laugh and wished he had his camera; the blasted thing was in one of those boxes. "Come on." He lifted her effortlessly, her sunshine yellow clad legs dangling over one arm as he cradled her back with the other.

Nudging open the door to his small bedroom he carefully made his way in; narrowly avoiding slamming her head against the doorjamb. She all but slid from his hold as soon as her body felt the soft mattress underneath her and in a second she was curled away from him, eyes softly shut as her breathing deepened.

He chuckled as she spread out over half of the bed, a content sleep smile on her lips.

"I guess that's your side then."

"I can't believe you spent your first night here on the floor." She grumbled, rubbing her eyes as she dropped down onto the sofa as a steaming mug was pressed into her hands. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." He laughed, making his way back to the kitchen. "You were adorable."

"Adorable." She scoffed. "I'm sure."

"I'm afraid that coffee is all I can offer you this fine morn." They both glanced out of the window at this sour words and Eva sneered at the grey rain lashing against the glass. "My refrigerator is unfortunately bare."

"Dammit!" Eva exclaimed as he spoke. "I meant to do a food run before you landed but I couldn't get away from the office and then traffic was awful and…why are you grinning at me?"

He reached forward and plucked the mug from her hands, setting it down next to the abandoned bottle of whiskey from the night before.

"Napol-" She cut herself off as his hand cupped her jaw and pulled her lips to his own. Seconds later she was kneeling on the sofa, her hands against his shoulders as his arm pulled her closer. "Nap-" She stopped again as his lips moved to start nipping at the exposed skin of her neck. "What are we doing?" She asked breathlessly as his forehead came to rest in the space between her collarbone and neck.

"Where I come from…" He murmured. "…this is called making out."

"I know that Napoleon." She sighed, pushing his head from her and forcing him to look her in the eye, ignoring how his hands were still on her waist; the pads of his thumbs slowly pulling her shirt from where it was tucked into her trousers. "And I know you know that's not what I meant."

"Tell me you don't like it…" He said, his voice lower than she'd ever heard it as he leant forward once again and pressed a long kiss to her cheek. "…and I'll stop."

"I don't like it."

"Liar." She huffed but was pleasantly shocked when he did indeed pull away and she unfolded herslef, sitting back onto the sofa and facing forward. "Dammit Eva, can't I just enjoy kissing you? No ulterior motives?"

"There are so many rules, Napoleon…you know how complicated our lives are."

"And yet here we are; together and completely uncomplicated." His hand moved to toy with the ends of her hair as she bit her lip, her face the picture of uncertainty.

"If anyone ever found out…"

"We're tough Eves." She smiled at the nickname. "We can handle it." She sighed, staring down at the abandoned beverages on the floor. "Now, if you could just admit that you also enjoying kissing me…" He smirked at her. "…then that's exactly what we can go back to doing." She rolled her eyes at him. "Come on Eves…just admit it." His hands were crawling back up towards her waist, skimming the tight fabric clinging to her thighs as he slowly turned her back to him.

"You're a pouty child when you don't get what you want, aren't you?"

"Admit it."

"No." She laughed, swatting him away as he coaxed the sensitive spot at the back of her neck with one of his fingers.

"Admit it." He murmured, effortlessly turning her on the sofa so they were face to face, his hand on the back of her neck pulling her closer. "You know you want to."

God she did. She let her eyes flutter closed as they drew nearer and fought to rid her head of every negative thought that was currently screaming at her to claw back as much professionalism as was still possible with this man who had completely captivated her from the get go.

"Napoleon…"

"Hmmm?" He was back at her neck and she couldn't help the hands that were bunched in his shirt.

"Just kiss me already."

He grinned victoriously against her neck and all but pulled her into his lap, her legs falling either side of him as she laughed, her hair falling down her back at the movement.

"Yes ma'am."