Work Text:
‘You know what we should do this year?’
Strike looked up from his paperwork to see Robin framed in the doorway to the outer office, tapping a pen against her chin.
‘What’s that?’ There was a hint of wariness in his voice; something about her smile suggested mischief.
‘A Christmas party. Since we finally have an employee list that’s not just you and me…’
The thought flashed across his mind that he’d rather celebrate the end of the year sat in a pub with just Robin Ellacott, than with every friend, colleague, and family member he’d ever had, as well as the entire Arsenal team thrown in for good measure.
‘Yeah, I s'pose we could – long as it’s nothing too over the top.’ A thought occurred to him. ‘Maybe we could book out the beer cellar at the Tottenham?’
Robin’s smile broadened into a grin. ‘I had a hunch you’d say that, so ducked out to speak to the landlord on my lunch break. He said he’d give us a discount, since we’re regulars – and, I suspect, semi-famous. Apparently it fits up to twenty.’
‘We don’t have twenty employees, Robin. Unless you want us to get hiring?’
‘Well, why not extend the invite list to include... police liaisons, like Vanessa and Wardle? And people like Nick and Ilsa, who’ve acted as… unpaid professional consultants, when we’ve needed legal or medical opinions?’
Strike nodded slowly, realising that Robin was really just looking for an excuse to celebrate the end of the year with their circle of mutual friends and associates. ‘And I suppose it’d be only right to invite Alyssa and Shanker as well?’ After their help with the Shacklewell Ripper, the pair – now couple – had done various odd jobs for the agency. Shanker was generally called in as added security, particularly when Strike was worried for Robin’s safety on a case, and Alyssa’s skills as an actress had proven useful in situations where it benefited to have a plant in an audience, or a loud distraction.
‘Exactly. So our guestlist would run: you, me, the Hutchinses, the Barclays,’ Strike kept count on his fingers as Robin reeled off the names, ‘the Herberts, the Wardles, Shanker and Alyssa, Spanner and his new girl, Vanessa and hers… Anyone I’ve missed?’
‘We’re inviting partners, then?’
‘I want to encourage Spanner in his newfound relationship as much as possible,’ came Robin’s firm answer. Strike grinned, but found his expression frozen in place when Robin added, voice studiously casual, ‘And of course you should bring along anyone you’re seeing, too.’
His brain scrambled for an appropriate response. ‘Unlikely that I’ll start seeing someone at this time of year – too much of a hassle to add anyone else onto my Christmas gift list.’
He couldn’t bring himself to make the reciprocal offer, or ask the corresponding question, but it hung in the air between them anyway. Eventually, Robin cleared her throat and asked about dates for the party. They settled on Friday 14th, as long as the pub could accommodate them then.
‘You know, I think this calls for a visit to the Tottenham when we finish up today,’ Robin remarked as she made to return to her desk, ‘Book the cellar out before someone else does.’
‘And while we’re there…’
‘Oh yes, absolutely,’ Robin agreed, ‘It would be only prudent to get a drink downstairs – sample the cellar’s atmosphere, make sure it’s up to scratch for our agency’s inaugural Christmas party.’
‘I’m glad you take your event planning seriously,’ Strike told her, and was treated to a cheeky grin as his partner returned to her typing.
Perhaps having a Christmas party with all their friends and associates wouldn’t be so bad, Strike thought, especially if it gave him another excuse to spend time with Robin while they planned it.