Note: Just a little something I wrote after re-reading TRG while waiting for book 8 to be published. I don't own the characters. Sets off immediately after book 7. Enjoy!
A million thoughts raced through Robin's mind as she descended the stairs with Ryan. Like speeding cars, they chased each other around in her head, making it nearly impossible to focus on any one of them.
Ryan opened the door to the street for her, and she made a decision.
"I'm sorry, I need to grab that file. There's something I need to check." Her cheeks flushed, and before Ryan could respond, she turned on her heel. "Could you get the car? I'll be back down in a second."
Out of breath by the time she reached the top landing, she paused to catch her breath. But before she could calm herself, the door to the office was flung open, and a dark shadow moved swiftly into the landing. The collision was inevitable. In a panic, Robin grabbed hold of the fabric of Strike's coat and let out a quiet gasp. Without thinking, he wrapped an arm around her, holding her steady and preventing her from falling.
"Robin?"
"I told Ryan I'd get the file." She tugged the file from under Strike's arm, giving her hands something to do, and sputtered, "I need to know what you meant... in the office. Was Charlotte right?"
Her eyes slowly travelled up to meet his, searching for an answer.
"Everything all right out there?" Pat's voice called from inside the office.
"Yes!" both detectives answered, their voices irritated. Robin, desperate to hear the words she'd privately hoped for over the years. Strike, uneasy, realizing that the ball he'd set rolling only five minutes ago was now speeding toward its inevitable conclusion.
"Was she right?" Robin's voice pressed, urgent now.
"Yes." Strike swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm in love with you, Robin. And there is nothing I can do about it."
A car honked from the street below.
"That'll be Ryan. I need to go."
Her right hand still clung to his coat. She rose onto her toes and kissed him quickly on the cheek, just near the corner of his mouth.
"I'll see you on Monday." Without another word, she spun around and raced down the stairs, leaving Strike standing in the doorway, bewildered. More than ever, he longed for a pint at the Flying Horse.