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Robin headed back to the office, her jaw aching. She had been to the dentist, and not in a ‘I have a dentist appointment’-cover-story-way, but in a the-appointment-is-real-and so-is-the-pain-way.
Still, she was excited to see her guys. Max had requested sole custody of the flat for a few days so he and his boyfriend could enjoy some proper alone time together. Strike had very willingly volunteered his place as a refuge for not only Robin, but Wolfgang too, who Strike had insisted would only get in Max’s way. No-one bought this excuse. But Max was more than happy to pretend Strike was doing him a favour.
Robin was unable to stop herself grinning as she remembered Strike’s eagerness to hang out with Wolfgang. And herself of course. His excitement in that regard had been made perfectly clear. A blush and even wider smile enveloped Robin’s face now and she winced slightly as her jaw protested the movement. It seemed smiling was going to be painful, which was unfortunate because she could hardly help doing so whilst thinking about the two loves of her life.
Excited by the prospect of seeing them both imminently and comforted by the thought of the ice packs in Strike’s fridge, Robin hurried up the stairs as soon as she was through the front door.
Entering the outer office, she surmised that Pat was out to lunch and thought for a moment that Strike may be too - the office appeared empty - until she heard voices.
“How ever will I crack this case?” She heard Strike declare loudly from their shared inner office, his voice exaggerated with mock bewilderment. “Where could he be?”
‘What was going on?’ Robin thought as she made her way towards the door. Surely Strike wouldn’t be talking to a client like that? As though they were a child or...ah, the penny had dropped.
“He’s not over here! Or over there! Where is he?!” Strike continued in his faux search of the office. “How will I ever find him? This is my most challenging case yet!” Strike announced theatrically. “The case of the missing sausage!”
It took every modicum of strength Robin possessed to make the decision not to embarrass him and to compose her face as she finally entered their office.
Strike, who had been peering dramatically under the desk where a mischievous Wolfgang was hiding, whipped around suddenly, trying very hard not to look as though he’d been caught doing something very embarrassing.
Robin could have sworn she heard him mutter “Act casual” to Wolfgang from the corner of his mouth, though his lips barely moved.
“Everything alright?” Robin asked innocently as she fussed Wolfgang who had bounded forward to grab her attention in what she was convinced was a diversionary tactic.
Grateful for Wolfgang’s distraction and relieved that Robin apparently hadn’t heard them after all, Strike arranged his face into what he hoped was an inconspicuous expression and blustered through a cover story.
“Yep. Yeah. All alright.” He smiled awkwardly at her. “Just working on a new case. Very important.”
“Oh I see. Better leave you to it then. I hope Wolfgang’s not distracting you?” She couldn’t resist this subtle little tease if nothing else.
To her dismay however, the satisfaction of watching Strike squirm was diminished by her sudden awareness of how she had said the word ‘see.’ The lasting effects of the anaesthesia and the swelling in her mouth meant that her s’ were lost; what she had actually said was, ‘oh I thee.’ She was sure Strike would notice.
Amazingly, he hadn’t seemed to. Clearly desperate to steer away from the topic of Wolfgang distracting him, he reassured her, “No no, good as gold” before he hurriedly changed the subject, “How was your appointment?”
“All good. Just a bit...” she had nearly said ‘sore’ but stopped herself at the last second, “...tender” she finished carefully. “Gonna grab a cool pack from the fridge upstairs.” She said pointing to her face and turning to leave the room.
“Help yourself. We’ll be up in a bit” He told her as she started to close the door. “Oh and Robin...”
“Mmm?” She murmured, turning back nervously, worried he was going to mention her speech after all.
“What kind of dog is Wolfgang again?”
“A thausage dog.” She responded reflexively, confused for half a second before she took in his smirking face and realised what he’d done.
“Oh you absolute arthe!” She scolded, going bright red as her situation worsened. Strike was now beside himself laughing and looking extremely pleased with himself.
“I’m sorry” He insisted through fits of giggles. “I couldn’t resist!”
“Yeah you look sorry!” She made to leave once more to avoid further humiliation but Strike stopped her again, no longer laughing as he said, “Wait, Robin, seriously...”
Pausing to see if he would apologise for real this time, Robin looked at him expectantly.
“...say sausage again.” He finished pressing his lips together in amusement. He really couldn’t help himself.
It was at this point Robin decided that this meant war.
“What as in the cathe of the mithing thausage?” she asked smugly, enjoying the sight of his own face turning beetroot and Wolfgang’s bark of amusement as she finally left and headed upstairs.
She looked forward to the inevitable reconciliation that would follow, and hoped that soon enough, her jaw would be aching for entirely different reasons than her trip to the dentist.