Author's Note: Couldn't find reference anywhere to Leda Strike's actual date of birth (only year). So, for the purposes of this fic, it's October 25th, 1954. Enjoy

Chapter Twenty-seven

Strike watches Robin pack her things for a while, his expression dark, and then he says, "You know, you could stay. I don't care if you've got your period." When Robin glares at him, he quickly adds, "I don't mean...well, if you still wanted to have sex, that'd be okay. I just meant that you don't have to leave just because...oh, fuck, you know what I mean."

Robin stops what she's doing and stands before him, saying, "Yes, but it'd be nice to hear you say it."

He broods for a few more seconds, but then smiles and says, "Fine. I like having you around. Happy now?"

Without shoes, she needs to stand on tippy-toes to kiss him, and then resumes packing as she says, "Quite. Thank you. And it bodes well considering you recklessly agreed to live with me. It's been two nights. I'm sure the police are well and truly done with my room, and Max is between gigs, so I won't be alone. Plus, I want to show Tom that I'm not afraid."

"Even though you are." When she glares at him again, he amends, "A little."

She nods, conceding, "A little, but only because I have no idea why he'd do this."

"Which shows good sense. You've got the scanner?"

Robin shows the handheld device he'd given her to check for surveillance devices, saying, "And I will get into the habit of using it, as promised. I'll be fine, Strike. Even if he's the guy behind the mask, he hasn't tried anything."

"I'd be less worried if he had, because you'd have already made him regret it. You do understand, right, that him gathering information before acting means we're potentially dealing with a clever psychopath?" When she levels the third and most intense glare at him, Strike realises that he's pushing his luck, and shows both palms in apology, saying, "Okay, okay, I'm just_"

"Worried, I know." Zipping her overnight bag shut, Robin hands it to him, and then picks up her handbag and coat even as she slips her shoes on, while saying, "But he won't get another chance to bug my place, and he must know that we've got some idea what he looks like. If he's smart, he'll back off. If he's not smart, I'll make him wish that he'd never been born, okay?"

Strike's grin is fierce, and he agrees, "Okay." And then he gestures for Robin to precede him, and they head downstairs to wait for her taxi. Following her, he can't shake the feeling that every step down is leading to her doom.

Robin rethinks her decision several times before finally making the call, which is answered with a nervous, "Ms. Ellacott, everything okay?"

Realising the reason for the young woman's concern, she says, "Oh, sorry, I'm fine. Rest assured, I would call 999 if I were in trouble. And, like I said, please call me Robin. No, I was calling to find out if your offer still stands, about the classes?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. As mentioned, it's just a few of us, all coppers. We rent a squash court at a local gym, fill it with Judo mats and go for it. It wouldn't suit a beginner, but I know you're not."

Nervous that her abilities won't stack up against serving police officers, Robin reminds her, "I am a bit rusty though."

"Then we'll go easy until you catch up. The first thing I learned is that there is no place for ego in the dojo. You'll see, it's a really supportive environment. I'll text you the details?"

The final reason for Robin's hesitation is, "And you said it's just women?"

"That's pretty much our only rule. Obviously, we train with male colleagues for work, but this is just a few gals kicking the shit out each other and having a giggle doing it. We meet twice a week, but you can join in whenever it suits. Sound like what you're looking for?"

Reassured, Robin says, "Sounds perfect, thank you. Then I'll see you soon?"

"Looking forward to it."

"Kicking the shit out of me?"

Stevie laughs, and says, "I see what you mean. But it really is fun, Robin, I promise. I'll text you the details now."

"Ok, thanks."

Stevie hangs up and immediately starts texting, explaining, "That woman I told you about. She's gonna join in."

"With your self-defence class? Cool. And her name's Ellacott?"

She spares him a glance, saying, "You weren't supposed to hear that bit. I told you I met her at work."

He pretends to look contrite, covering his eyes with both hands, followed by his ears and then mouth, all while batting his eyelids—he has the most gorgeous lashes—in apparent innocence. She laughs, and accuses, "You're nuts."

He immediately launches into an impersonation of a chimpanzee, springing up to squat on the couch while whooping and scratching his armpits, until she's helpless with laughter. And then he settles down to softy chatter at her while gently running his knuckles along her jaw. Smiling, she maintains, "Seriously, you're insane."

In reply, he touches the back of his knuckles to the top button of her shirt, and softy entreats, "Ooo."

Laughter a moment away, Stevie asserts, "Certifiable." But he's looking at her in that way she finds almost impossible to resist, like right now, so she takes his hand and leads him to her bedroom. He doesn't break character until they're naked in bed, where they both become animals in their quest for each other's pleasure. Until, ultimately, she surrenders to the fatigue dragging her down, and snuggles against him, saying, "I love you, Monkey Boy."

"Ooo."

When Strike calls Robin that afternoon, suggesting they catch up for dinner before their shift, she informs him, "I can't. I have a date."

After a moment, he merely asks, "Oh?"

She smiles at his wariness, and explains, "With Stevie Barlow and a few of her colleagues. She runs a small, informal self-defence class, exclusively women. And it's been a while since my abilities were tested. Even at the Farm my mind was more in danger than my body."

"Good idea. I should probably do the same, before I end up some sad, middle-aged bloke who used to be handy with his fists."

About to tell him he's not sad or middle-aged, she remembers that one of those is true, and says, "I genuinely forget that you're a decade older than me. In fact, you seem younger now than when we met."

"Well, I feel younger now I'm with you." They're quiet for a while, and then he breaks the comfortable silence with, "I love you, Robin Ellacott."

She sighs, and says, "Yeah, you do. And I'd better get ready."

"You're getting on well with Stevie, then?"

Wondering if he's reluctant to end the conversation, she says, "I barely know her, but yeah, she's sweet. Why?"

"Oh, just that you still don't have many friends in London. I get worried that you'll feel isolated after the baby is born."

"A baby that has not yet materialised."

"True, but odds are you'll soon be pregnant. You've really only got Vanessa and Ilsa to confide in, right?"

"And you. How many friends do you think I need, Strike?"

He laughs a little, and says, "I guess that'll do, now you mention it. All right, I'll let you go. Text me when you're done?"

"Sure. You okay?"

He doesn't answer for a few seconds, and then reveals, "Mum's birthday."

Her heart aching for him, Robin says, "Oh, Strike, why didn't you tell me this earlier? I would have stayed if I'd known."

"I didn't notice until after you'd left. I don't even...I mean, I think of her, obviously. But another thing about being with you is that my past isn't such a heavy burden nowadays." When this is met with a prolonged silence, Strike guesses why, and says, "Go. Have fun kicking arse. I will sustain myself with Tom Waits and thoughts of you."

Desperate to comfort him, Robin decides on humour, saying, "You know, I'd appreciate it if you didn't put me after a man who sounds like a pitchfork being scraped across a stone wall."

Strike laughs and says, "Yeah, he does. All right, Ellacott, for you I'll shift Tom Waits to third."

Smiling, she guesses, "Still Arsenal in first place, then?"

"Always. And you'd better go."

"Yes, but I don't want to. How about, after class, I drive over and cheer you up?"

"Okay, okay, I'll put you above Arsenal."

She laughs, and jokes, "No, you won't."

He chuckles, and lies, "No, I won't."