Chapter Text
Robin was almost giddy with excitement as she unlocked the familiar door to the Denmark Street offices she shared with her work colleague, and latterly, best mate.
Strike had outdone himself with the gifts he had bestowed upon her only a few weeks earlier for her thirtieth birthday, and she intended to make sure his fortieth was similarly impressive.
She was therefore mounting the stairs to their offices having sent him a text message whilst waiting for the tube instructing him to 'Get yourself decent, Birthday Boy!'
The door up to his flat was open as she approached and she could hear him thumping around above her head as she unlocked the office and went through to their now shared space with the familiar scent of tobacco smoke permeating the walls. She rummaged around in the drawer she knew contained 'various bits of crap' and found what she was searching for with a triumphant "Aha!" before returning to the outer office space.
"This is a bloody god forsaken time of day be looking so bloody smug Ellacott......this had better be good!" he mumbled, scratching sleep crust from his eyes and belching as he scanned Robin's choice of clothing and considered that, despite it being 4am she looked remarkably exuberant.
Robin gave her burly partner's choice of clothing a quick once over - navy trousers, a rather nice grey shirt under his dark blue half zip jumper and his brown boots - he'd do!
"Are you going to explain what's going on?" he asked as she flitted between the office, kitchenette and, before he could stop her, his flat.
She reappeared, looking slightly flushed, but that could easily be explained by her brisk pace up and down the stairs.
"It's your birthday," she stated.
He twitched his neck and gave her a bemused smirk, "I know.....Ilsa's been counting it down!"
"Exactly!" Robin said pointedly, "Which means that she's planning a surprise for you.....possibly this evening, or possibly......earlier when she thinks you won't be expecting it and able to avoid it!"
Strike groaned and wrinkled his lips, "Why? When will she learn that no means no when it comes to me and birthday parties!"
Robin paused directly infront of him, "That's why I'm here," she said, smiling, "We're running away.....I'm officially hiding you for the day.....it's your present!"
Strike's face broke out into one of his crinkle eyed, warmth filled grins, "Bloody brilliant! Right....I take it you have a hideout planned?"
She nodded and pulled his huge overcoat and scarf off the coat rack.
"I have indeed, so wrap up and let's go!" and she shooed him out of the office, locked the door and dragged the door on his flat closed as he lumbered his still reluctant to move joints down the stairs.
Once outside she steered him in the direction of Leicester Square tube. He couldn't help but cast her furtive glances as they walked along; her shorter strides meaning that she needed to walk almost twice as quick to cover the same distance as him. The city was in that still sleepy, dark and shiny damp pavement stage of the day - waking up but reluctantly but with the promise of a new day ahead; rather like himself when he'd been awoken by Robin's insistent text messages which had dragged him out of a rather glorious dream.
At the tube station they took a train towards Cockfosters - it was relatively empty except for the bleary expressions of night workers making their way home and day shift workers making their way into work - it was difficult to determine which was which!
"Where are we going?" he asked, his voice rumbling in time with the train.
"Somewhere Ilsa won't think of looking!" Robin replied, "And hopefully we'll be gone all day, and be back far too late for her to be able to ambush you!"
There was a glint in Robin's eyes and as Strike sat beside her he realised that wherever she was taking him would be the perfect place and way to spend his birthday.
After only 3 stops Robin rose and motioned for him to join her in alighting at the next stop.
"St Pancras?" he hissed as they made their way through the tiled tunnels and corridors.
She merely nodded and checked they were heading in the right direction using the overhead signs.
She was leading him down the rather fancy and to his mind, over the top, selection of shops on the fancy concourse which resembled a shopping arcade. The distinctive frontage of Fortnum and Masons hove into view and he watched as she removed passports from her crossbody bag along with her phone.
She paused and turned to him, pulling her face into a grimace, but with amusement evident in her screwed up eyes.
"OK, so......I reckon Ilsa will go to many lengths, but I figured leaving the country might be relatively safe.......you up for it?" and she flashed the pair of passports at him together with an impish pout of her lips.
"Are you serious?" he snorted, "You're taking me to Paris for the day just to avoid Ilsa Herbert?"
She nodded, her mouth set into a completely ridiculous, but also completely edible purse mouthed smirk.
"What time are we leaving?" he asked, glancing at his watch and wondering whether he had time for a cup of coffee - the smell from one of the nearby vendors had wafted into his nostrils, and having only managed a lone cigarette since waking he was in need of something to occupy his tastebuds.
"We're on the 7 o'clock train, but we have to check in stupidly early......but we can grab a coffee."
As was their default setting when drinking a hot beverage they discussed work cases easily - swapping ideas and suggestions, sharing new information and probably concluding more actual work than many would get through in an entire day.
Having drained his cup of strong, sugary coffee, and demolished a ridiculously sticky pastry, pleasingly and appropriately called a yum yum, he hauled himself up, holding out a hand towards Robin.
"Right then.....time for you to be initiated!" he quipped, waggling his dark brows as he ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth.
Robin cast him a baffled look and wrinkled her mouth and brow.
"You've never seen the palaver I cause getting through customs have you?" and he grinned broadly.
Robin huffed and felt a blush to her cheeks - in all honesty she hadn't given it a thought; his leg was just part of everyday Cormoran now and she sometimes forgot his handicap completely.
"Oh god! I'm sorry....I didn't think about that!" she pressed one palm to his upper arm, her expression one of embarrassment.
But Robin was the one person who he felt comfortable with regarding his missing limb - she'd never made a big deal out of it and just carried on around him when it caused him grief.
"It's fine.....but I warn you now we'll be stopped, and that thing we walk through will go berserk!" but he chuckled and draped one of his large, heavy arms across her shoulders, much to her combined delight and slight shock, "Life with me Ellacott is never dull!"
As predicted, the walk through arch's siren started flashing and wailing as soon as he walked through it, but the lop sided smirk he flashed her over his shoulder as the uniformed security began to frisk him somehow lit a spark within her - that had happened a few times since her birthday.......it was nice.
Having pulled up his trouser leg and removed his prosthetic so that it could be sent through the luggage X Ray machine on one of the plastic trays it was deemed non threatening enough for him to replace.
"Told ya!" he mumbled as they were eventually able to make their way through into the departure area and the platform.
They had allocated seats, based on her being able to request a seat suitable for disabled travellers - which gave Strike more legroom - something which he always found amusing given the fact that if anything he required less!
The train cabin was warm, and pressed against Robin in the snug seating meant that he was bombarded with the blissful aroma of her perfume. It gave him a frisson of arousal to know that he had selected it; and that she had asked him to make the final choice.....plus he really did like how it smelled, especially when she unwound her scarf and stood up to throw it and their coats onto the rack above their heads.
He'd made the delightful mistake of glancing up at her and had caught sight of a small sliver of creamy skin and navy blue lace above the waistband of her jeans before she'd glanced down and caught his gaze.
He swallowed and had the feeling that she knew exactly where his eyes had been focused, but she didn't seem alarmed, in fact if anything she seemed to angle herself closer to him as she sat back down and squirmed to make herself comfortable.
"This is gonna be fun!" she stated and proceeded to take out her phone and start flicking through various apps and images she had stored on it.
Strike let out a contented rumble of laughter beside her, of course she'd planned an itinerary for them....and of course it involved food!
The additional bonus of allowing her to share her plans on her small screen was that they were required to press very close together, infact anyone entering the carriage, or walking along the centre aisle as the train set off would have easily mistook them for a loved up couple, sharing a comfortable easiness as they shared smiles, chuckles and alternated flicking their fingers across the screen.
The journey flashed by alarmingly quickly, and before they'd truly registered it they were pulling into the Gare du Nord. Allowing for the time difference it was just after 10 in the morning when they descended into the bowels of the station and located the correct platform to Chatelet.
Strike enjoyed being beside Robin as they waited for the train; he enjoyed seeing her eyes light up with the various sights and sounds and smells of Paris.....albeit they could quite easily have been on the tube to Tottenham Court Road!
"Have you been here before?" he asked her - somehow they hadn't covered that whilst discussing plans for the day.
She shook her head and looked rather wistfully at a young couple who were unashamedly kissing just a short distance along the platform from where they were leaning. Strike followed her gaze and gave a slightly rueful curl to his lips.
"No.....Matthew never wanted to go anywhere that wasn't hot, so........," and she trailed out her comment, knowing that further explanation wasn't necessary.
"Well, it's my first time here too, so we can lose our virginity together," he quipped, and then hastily added, "That came out wrong....but you know...."
He was blushing, and slightly flustered......it was really rather sweet she thought as she sniggered, her shoulders shaking with mirth.
"Oh bloody hell!" he stammered, "Ou est the bastard train?" but he broke into a mirth filled chuckle himself as he met Robin's shining eyes.
Once the carriages rumbled up - much brighter and with larger windows than their London equivalents, but with a more complicated looking handle type arrangement rather than the automatic opening and closing ones they were used to - they were still giggling. The snogging couple drew breath long enough to alight the train and then resumed their thorough investigation of each others' tonsils and Robin and Strike did that whole, "Is this definitely the right train? Are we going the right way?" thing until they reached the next station and verified that they had indeed been able to locate the correct train by following the clearly marked signs and annotated maps.
"Is it because it's French that I have the feeling it should be more complicated?" Robin whispered, sending a pleasing shiver down Strike's spine as they exited the train and made their way towards the stairs - sadly for Strike the Parisian Metro contained far more of those and far fewer lifts and escalators than the London Underground system.
"What time are we on that boat thing?" Strike asked as they blinked out into the watery, autumnal, Parisian sunshine.
"We have to be there to board at 12.....but the good news is that you get to sit down for at least 2 hours!" she smiled.
Maybe it was being in a foreign city, but she suddenly felt the need to keep Strike close to her, to feel his comforting bulk physically, so she threaded her arm through his and secured it there by clasping her other, gloved hand around it.
Strike was momentarily taken aback, but he liked the sensation of her being close beside him and didn't pull away.
He removed his cigarettes from his coat pocket and lit one, feeling that the swirling grey smoke he exhaled somehow 'belonged' in the city.
"This is nice," he stated; and for a moment he wasn't sure himself whether he meant Paris, his fag or Robin beside him....maybe it was all three.
They meandered through the bustling streets in the vague direction of the Rue de Rivoli.
They passed a plethora of street cafes before one was deemed suitable by Strike. In all honesty he had been reluctant to break the closeness of Robin pressing against him - it had felt incredibly 'right' to find her amber head just to the left of his chin, and he'd felt ten feet tall when several Parisian men had cast their eyes towards her and then him in a wordless acknowledgement of "Vous jammy basterd anglais!"
A gush of what could only be called gusset ruining warmth had spread through her when her large partner had requested coffees and an ashtray in fluent French from the lithe, tattooed waiter.
"What?" he'd flashed her a slightly smug grin, fully aware that he'd scored massive 'man points' be being able to order in French!
"You're a man of many talents Mr Strike!" she chuckled and tucked her feet around the leg of their table, hunching towards him and pulling out her phone.
"Oh....here we go!" she stated, waggling the screen at him.
"Ilsa?....or is is Pat wondering where the hell we are?" he asked, casting a casual "Merci Monsieur" as their drinks were brought across.
He lit a further cigarette and considered that this was indeed the perfect way to spend his birthday.
Robin shook her head and swiped her screen, "Pat should know by now that we are out of the office all day - I emailed her. However Ilsa is apparently wondering why you aren't answering your phone."
Strike fumbled in his pocket, mumbling, "I put it on silent on the bloody train...haven't switched it back on. Am I gonna get bombarded?" he asked, directing the second half of his comment towards Robin before realising that she was resting her feet on top of his prosthetic foot beneath the table.
When he switched his phone back on it spent several minutes pinging and buzzing as a ludicrous number of messages pulled through.
"Eleven!" he laughed, giving Robin an incredulous, but warm glare, "Bloody hell......I'm a grown man, can she not cope with knowing my every move? Any other day she doesn't give me a second thought.....I could be lying comatose at the foot of my stairs, but today, I don't answer my phone for an hour and she thinks I'm dead!"
Robin sipped her coffee, enjoying the dinky size and bitterness and feeling remarkably French as she sat beside Cormoran's slightly shambolic but self assured bulk as he puffed smoke from his nostrils.
Strike tapped out a message to Ilsa and then made a symbolic gesture of switching off his phone infront of Robin. "There....officially skiving for the day!" he announced.
Before he placed it back into his pocket however he flicked it back on and threw his arm around the back of Robin's chair. He clasped her shoulder and dragged her closer, holding his phone out to take a selfie, "Just for posterity!" he stated as their faces were reflected in the screen.
Robin picked up her own phone and whimpered as Strike moved away from her, "Come back....I want one too," she pouted, and snapped several pictures.
Having drunk their coffees Strike curled his finger to attract Robin's attention. His breath was hot on her cheek, "How am I supposed to pay for this in French money?" he asked.
Robin reluctantly pulled away and rummaged in her bag. "I came prepared!" she stated, and handed him several of the Euro notes she had changed over the day before.
Squinting at the bill he placed down a five and caught her gaze, "Stop staring, I don't need glasses yet it's just printed really feint!"
She giggled as she got up, "Well, you know....you're a forty year old man now!" she shook her head as he got up and adjusted his coat, tucking his cigarettes and matches back into his cavernous pockets.
"Watch it Ellacott," he smirked, "I'm still strong enough to lob you in the Seine!"
The matched each others' strolling gait towards the Louvre pyramid and the gardens of the Tuileries which were cast in a pleasant glimmer of sunlight and to Strikes delight a flurry of tourist souvenir touts made Robin huddle up to him. Their slightly aggressive manner made him feel completely justified in wrapping his arm around her shoulders to steer her safely away from them, holding his hand up and glowering added to his overall threatening manner, and a small part of Robin fluttered as she felt his calm, masculine presence - she would of course have to say several hail Mary's to the goddesses of feminism later.....but she'd been without a male presence in her bed for a long time!
Having made the decision to embrace her he was reluctant to let go, but felt he should at least make an attempt, however he felt her soft hair brush against his cheek and her hand clutched at the nearest lapel on his coat.
Glancing down she met his gaze, "OK?" he asked softly and smiled back at her as she nodded and made a soft, delectable sound that made desire course through his veins.
"We should try and find the quay thing for the bateau," she stated, "Shall we walk?"
His rumbling "Mmmmm hmmmm," reverberated through Robin's body, and surely it wasn't her imagination that his hand on her shoulder was adjusting itself a little to pull her closer. "This is already a wonderful birthday you know!" he stated.
"Good," Robin quipped, "You're only forty once!"