Chapter Text
Robin had hardly known how to react as Strike’s heart felt confession had loudly reverberated around the Herbert’s living room. The room had gone suddenly still. The friendly rumble of conversation quite literally dying on everyone’s lips.
It felt like a slo-mo in a bad movie as every pair of eyes in the room had turned to look at her. Horrified Robin risked glancing up at Paul.
Unable to put up any longer with Paul’s roving hands and not so subtle suggestions Robin had just been in the middle of gently but firmly telling him that their relationship was over. The usual platitudes of ‘It’s not you, it’s me’, and ‘Your a great guy’ passing her lips and making her wince and cringe inwardly at the cliches she was using!
Paul, who had merely looked dismayed at her words now looked positively thunderous after hearing Strike’s confession crackling loudly through the baby monitor.
Robin knew she should probably feel sorry for Paul. It was certainly a double hit and undoubtedly mortifying for him in-front of all these people! Especially as he had so glibly assumed his ‘right’ over her all evening declaring himself to be her ‘boyfriend’ without even discussing it with her first and touching her with increasing intent!
Arsehole! …
Actually maybe she wasn’t so sorry after all!
In all honestly Robin’s thoughts barely even registered Paul. Her heart and mind was with Strike … as it had been most the evening.
Robin had heard the waver in Cormoran’s voice during his confession and could literally feel his pain. She felt as though her heart was shattering just listening to his beautiful, stilted deceleration.
Robin deliberately ignored Paul now, and looked to Ilsa Herbert who was at the other end of the room frozen in motion. The liable baby monitor clutched in her hand, held almost aloft like a totem deity. Ilsa’s shrewd gaze was fixed upon Robin.
If Robin had been expecting the same shocked expression that was plastered on the faces of all the other Herbert’s guests she was very much mistaken!
Ilsa looked anything by shocked. Instead she looked positively delighted and overjoyed. As if all her plans had come to fruition. (An idea Robin thought she would need to revisit later !) Ilsa’s face was beaming brightly, and her eyes glistening suspiciously as though she was about to cry.
Upon seeing Robin wordlessly begging her for assistance Ilsa seemed to rally from her current revere.
“Right!” Announced Ilsa. “I think tonight’s entertainment is over folks. I’m really sorry but I think it might be home time. Young baby and all!” Her voice sounded light and breezy but there was a steely edge which was clearly brooking no argument.
“Robin?” Paul managed to splutter out. The question evident in his voice.
“Night Paul.” Robin replied apologetically. Already turning away from him and heading towards the door.
Towards the stairs.
Towards Strike!
Robin could hear Ilsa quietly and efficiently ushering people out of the house behind her. She would never be able to thank her friend enough!
Softly Robin treaded up the staircase towards the room she knew was baby Edith’s. As she quietly reached the threshold of the doorway Robin had a few moments to gaze on Strike without him noticing her.
Her heart caught in her throat as she regarded her large surly partner. The man who had become to mean everything to her.
Cormoran was lent over the cot looking down at Edith. His usually large powerful frame seemed diminished and almost broken in the soft light of the room. The waves of sadness rolling off him almost like a tangible, physical presence in the room.
Robin could hardly bare to look at him like this. But at the same time she could not take her eyes off him, remembering the words he had spoken just moments ago.
They had not been words laced with platitudes. False honeyed words, rehearsed and practiced. They had been raw, honest and true just like the man before her.
The man who didn’t know that her heart was his, and had been for longer than she cared to admit.
In the early days of their acquaintance when she had been engaged to Matthew, Robin had found in her naïveté it hard to fathom what women found so attractive about Strike. Her only point of reference being classically handsome Matthew.
But as she had grown to know him Robin had recognised that Strike was in fact beyond handsome.
He was effortlessly sexy.
Whereas Matthew preened and strutted aware of his own appeal, Cormoran was merely himself. Sometimes grumpy, stubborn and unapologetic. Yet also unbelievable kind, gentle, thoughtful and generous. His unshakable support and belief in her unlike anything she had ever experienced before.
These traits along with his broad powerful body, his chiselled stubbled jaw and intelligent sparkling green eyes had drawn her to him. Soon she began to notice other features such as the smattering of freckles across the bridge of nose, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. Not to mention his disastrous hair which stuck up at odd angles.
Before she had even realised it Robin had grown to love the beautiful, rumpled giant she was lucky enough to call her best friend.
Strike spoke to something in Robin’s soul that resonated deep within her. It felt as though they had always known each other. That they were meant to be.
Strike had simply become everything to her.
As if finally realising somebody was in the door way watching him, Strike slowly straightened himself, standing and turning to look round. Robin was sure the intensity of her feelings and desire for Cormoran was evident on her face as she regarded his battered surly features, so beloved by her.
Neither spoke.
The silence and tension filled the room for what felt like an eternity. Both pairs of eyes blazing as if conscious that they were alone and of the immense change that had transpired between them.
Robin, no longer able to bare it any longer remembered her determination earlier in the evening … to be braver, stronger and to fight for what she wanted.
And she wanted Strike in every way possible!
She wanted him with a fierce burning intensity she could no longer hide.
With poise and purpose Robin strode towards Strike only stopping when she was mere centimetres from his large powerful frame. Slowly she reached behind him grabbing the baby monitor switching it off purposefully.
Robin gazed once again to Strike, sudden fear and comprehension evident on his face.
“How much did you hear?”He asked as if he was going to choke on his words.
“Everything.” she replied before finally she moved to press her lips against his as she had longed to do for so long.
At first Cornoran did not respond. Almost as though he was in shock. However it was mere seconds before his brain had clearly caught up with his mouth and his lips moved against Robin’s with equal fervour.
This was not a gentle kiss.
To many years had been spent with them both silently yearning for each other, for that to be a possibility. Instead, their mouths moved together hungrily as both sought the affirmation they needed and craved for from one another.
Robin raised her hands to cup each side of Strike’s scruffy face, pulling him closer as if she were afraid he would slip away from her in the darkness of the room. She moaned softly, loving the feel of his scratchy stubbled jaw beneath the soft pads of her finger tips. Robin heard Strike groan in response to her ministrations and her confidence grew as she kissed him passionately.
The kiss continued for some moments. Strike allowing Robin to take the lead. His large, warm capable hands softly ghosting reverently over the curves of her body. He stroked expertly along her hips, over her stomach and up to the underside of her breasts.
God he knew exactly what he was doing!
The sensation of his hands finally on her body was sending Robin wild. It was everything she had imagined and more! White hot sparks of desire were coursing through her. Her entire body was thrumming and aching with her need for him.
She had never experienced anything so intensely erotic before!
Then suddenly taking her by surprise Cormoran was spinning her round. His lips still firmly against hers as he began to walk her backwards pushing her hard against the bedroom wall. One large hand shooting out at the last minute to cradle her head from the impact.
Strike’s fingers began to card through her silky auburn hair and Robin was aware that Strike was gently taking control. At first he kissed Robin with the same unapologetic intensity which seemed to form the very essence of his personality.
It was unbelievably sexy.
Then just as suddenly his lips softened as he began to explore her more gently with soft teasing kisses conveying a reverence and tenderness. Strike’s tongue swept over her lips silently begging permission which Robin willingly granted. Her mouth eagerly opening to him as his tongue stroked against her own sensuously.
Robin suddenly felt weak from the affect Strike was having on her. Trembling beneath him. She felt Cormoran shift his large body to press more firmly against her, pinning her against the wall, and effectively holding her upright. It also had the delicious affect of enabling Robin to feel the hard, firmness of Strikes large body.
Their bodies were pressed so close together it felt as though they were one. Wrapped around one another so intimately it made Robin’s heart stutter. She moaned loudly grinding herself shamelessly against Strike.
Desperate for more of him.
Desperate for all of him.
Strike tore his lips from Robin as both their lungs began to burn desperate for air. But as though his lips couldn’t bare to break contact with her skin, he continued to kiss heatedly along her jaw line.
Slowly Strike blazed a heated trail of delicious sensuous kisses along her neck and throat until he reached the juncture at her collarbone. Strike’s breaths were as ragged as her own as he buried his scruffy face into her neck.
Only then did Robin suddenly feel the slight dampness against her skin. With heartbreaking clarity she realised Strike was silently shaking…
and softly crying.
Robin’s heart constricted painfully as she pulled back from him. She instinctively cupped Cormoran’s face in her hands forcing him to look at her, using the pads of her thumbs to sweep away the silent tears falling down his face.
Strike wrapped his arms around Robin’s waist. Lowering his face, as he looked bashfully down at the ground in an attempt to hide his uncharacteristic vulnerability. It was endearingly disarming seeing him like this, yet also deeply upsetting.
His strong arms tightened their hold around her as though he were afraid of letting her go. She couldn’t help but observe how deliciously his hairy forearms contrasted with his white shirt.
Robin remained quite and still allowing Strike time to recover himself. Gently carding her fingers through his soft hair. Finally after some time Strike spoke.
“Is this real?” He choked out.
“I hope so.” Said Robin, running the palm of her hands against his chest, relishing the heat and firmness beneath her fingers .
“I thought I’d lost you.” Strike spoke softly. His voice still sounding rough with emotion.
“No. You didn’t loose me Cormoran. You couldn’t. Not ever! I’m yours. I always have been. I love you, you grumpy bugger. I love you so much.” Robin spoke softly but firmly into the stillness of the room. Her eyes blazing with the truth and depth of her jumbled words.
Strike barely perceivably shook his head as if in disbelief. “Paul?” He asked frowning.
“Has gone home along with all the other guests. I was actually in the middle of trying to break up with him when your impromptu confession sealed the deal”
Strikes eyes widened in shock. “Christ Robin. I’m sorry … I …”
“I’m not sorry.” Robin interrupted stating matter of factly. “He got off lightly. If he put his hands on my bottom one more time tonight, I’m not sure what I’d have done.” She smiled softly up at Strike who raised an eyebrow questioningly at her.
“Put his hands on your bottom did he?”
“Yeah!” Laughed Robin gazing up at Strike.
“Ahhh … what a tosser…Doesn’t he know you hate that?” Strike smiled softly his lips quirking slightly. Clearly enjoying this light exchange after the heartache of the evening.
Robin couldn’t help but beam up at Strike. She knew he was referencing the revulsion she had expressed when she had seen a photograph of Tony Landry in public with his hand on Tansy Bestigui’s bottom during the Lula Landry case.
“Good job I wasn’t there.” Strike rumbled softly. “If I’d see him doing that to you he’d have had my foot so far up his arse he’d have been choking on it!”
Robin’s hands flew to her mouth managing to stifle a laugh just in time. Strike still looked fragile but his face had suddenly erupted into a broad grin at her reaction to his jest.
“Which one Strike? Your actual foot or your prosthesis?” Robin managed to dead pan back.
Strike paused deliberately for dramatic effect as though really considering the question, his eyes glittering with mirth now. “Definitely the prosthesis. Metal. Harder. More damage.” He teased softly.
God she’d missed this with him.
The lively exchange of banter they often shared when working together. These small exchanges coming to mean the world to her.
They both were stifling laughter now in an attempt not to wake Edith, who was still thankfully fast asleep.
Somewhat shyly Strike slowly shuffled closer to Robin and dipped his head to bury his face in her hair, his hands gently sliding further round her waist pulling her into his warm embrace.
“Why did you never say anything Cormoran? Surely you must have realised how I felt.” She whispered into his broad chest, nuzzling into his warmth, surrounded by the scent of his lavender aftershave and a masculine musky scent that was so uniquely Strike.
“I didn’t think you could possibly feel like that about me Robin. I was so afraid I’d mess up our friendship … I still am. I’m not exactly great boyfriend material… if that’s what you want that is?” Strike rumbled softly pulling back to look at her. His fear palpable.
“You’re an idiot Cormoran Blue Strike. Did you know that?” She whispered softly wrapping her arms tighter around him.
“Yeah. I’m beginning to realise that.” Strike smiled gesturing towards the baby monitor on the nightstand.
Robin giggled again, whilst Strike huffed a laugh.
“It isn’t just your fault.” Robin said softly. “I could have said something but I was scared to. We’re both a pair of bloody idiots aren’t we?” She smiled.
“I love you Robin.” Strike spoke softly. “The thought of loosing you … it nearly killed me. I need you to be sure that I’m what you really want? I’ve nothing much to offer you except my broken old body and heart.”
“I’m not going anywhere Strike.” Robin whispered softly. “And your heart is all I’ve ever wanted for so long now. You have to know you mean everything to me. I love you.”
Strike leaned into Robin, gently and fleetingly brushed his lips softly against hers in a sweetly intimate gesture full of promise. He pulled back, his eyes crinkling, a lopsided smile breaking out on his face. The heartfelt joy he felt at that moment could not be more clearly written on his face. Robin was sure it mirrored her own feelings exactly.
“Does that mean I get to see you home and come in for ‘coffee’ tonight?” Strike asked barely able to keep his face straight as he quoted Paul from earlier in the evening.
“Oh God! You heard that?” Robin said blushing furiously.
“Yeah.” Strike replied gruffly huffing a soft laugh now.”Little bastard is lucky I didn’t clock him one!”
Robin laughed softly, pulling at Strike’s tie playfully as he gazed down at her, the love he felt for her shining brightly in his eyes. “Yes Strike. You can come back for ‘coffee’.” Robin replied. “And I’d be heartily disappointed if you didn’t stay for breakfast, dinner … then every other night after that come to think of it.” She whispered softly blushing shyly now.
“I can work with that Ellacott.” Cormoran whispered softly against her cheek as he pressed another soft kiss there causing Robin’s heart to flutter and a fresh wave of desire to ignite.
“On one condition… I get to hold you all night long. Because I don’t think I can let go of you now I’ve finally got you.” Strike said his voice rough with emotion.
“Darling, you can hold me all night long. Tonight and forever.”
”Perfect.” Said Strike smiling.
Cormoran glanced one last time at the sleeping form of Edith. Mentally promising himself he would buy her the best present he could afford. He definitely needed to thank her for her assistance in unwittingly bringing him and Robin together.
Then with purpose Strike captured Robin’s hand gently lifting it to his lips before interlacing their fingers together.
Cormoran began to lead Robin from the bedroom. Back down the stairs to the waiting Herbert’s, who Robin was sure would consider the evening a great success!