Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Robin,” called Strike from his side of their desk, his hands moving over the keyboard. She looked up. “Pat just sent an email with next week’s rota. Can you take a look? I’m kind of swamped.”

“Sure,” Robin said. “By the way,” she added, after a small pause. “I have plans on the morning of the 13th, so I’ll go ahead and block it out already, if it’s okay with you.”

Strike stopped, his hands mid-air over the keyboard, and looked at her.

“You’ve plans, eh?”

“Yep.”

He studied her for a moment.

“You hadn’t told me.”

“Telling you now,” said Robin, turning to her screen.

Strike nodded, resting one hand on the chair arm and rubbing his chin with the other.

“And would you mind telling me what these mysterious plans are?”

Robin blushed a little.

“Not at all,” she said. “It’s Galentine’s Day.”

Strike frowned.

“It’s what now?”

Robin chuckled, rotating her chair to face him.

“Galentine’s Day.”

“The fuck is Galentine’s Day?” Strike asked, dumbfounded.

“Well, it’s a day to celebrate your lady friends, you know, female friendship. So I’m going out with the girls for breakfast.” She paused. “You really never heard of it?”

“Surprisingly,” he said. “Never been invited.”

Robin snorted, before making a mock-pout. “Poor thing.”

Strike grinned. “But seriously,” he continued.  “Is it like a holiday? Since when?”

“Well, it should be a national holiday,” said Robin, grinning. “It’s from a show, actually. Parks and Rec?” He frowned. “Parks and Recreation. American sitcom about local government… doesn’t ring a bell?”

“Um,” he said. “Yeah, I think I know which one it is.” He considered her for a moment. “Didn’t know you were into that.”

“Into sitcoms?” Robin asked, frowning.

“And American telly,” he added with a grin.

“Tsk, tsk,” said Robin, shaking her head. “Don’t be prejudiced, Strike! There’re a lot of great shows from over the pond, you know.”

“Eh,” he said, tilting his head. “I’m not much into shows from this side of the pond, to begin with. And I don’t really get American humor.”

Robin chuckled.

“Yeah, fair enough,” she said, and made to return to her screen, when Strike spoke again.

“You like this one, though?” he asked, intrigued.

Her face lit up.

“Oh, I love it!” she said. “It’s so… optimistic.”

 Strike smiled earnestly.

“Sounds like you. What’s it about?”

“Well, like the title says, it’s a workplace comedy about the Parks and Recreation department of a small city in Indiana. Basically, it’s very well-intentioned people navigating the difficulties of local government.”

Strike looked skeptical.

“You’re not exactly selling it.”

Robin rolled her eyes.

“Well, it is really good. The way I summarize it is… it’s good people, solving small problems. There’s just something really comforting about that, about the effort they put into just about anything, as long as it will help people. And the characters are amazing, too,” she added, after a moment. “The main character, Leslie Knope, is just a beacon of hope and optimism, while her boss is a grumpy man’s man. But despite their differences, they still manage a beautiful friendship.”

Strike raised one eyebrow at her description, thinking it didn’t sound that unfamiliar, but Robin didn’t seem to notice. “I actually think you’d like it, to be honest,” she added.

“Eh,” said Strike. “Likely to be a hard pass. Anyway, I don’t need to watch it…” he extended his hand to catch Robin’s in his. “I already have my beacon of hope,” he said, winking at her, and she beamed at him.

“Just so you know,” she said, “I can tell that’s an attempt to escape compulsory viewing.”

He shrugged.

“Did it work?”

“You bloody know it did,” she said, shaking her head with a smile. “Don’t be smug about it.”

Strike grinned. “Anyway,” he said. “I’m actually relieved.”

Robin frowned.

“What for?”

“When you said you had plans, I thought your mum was coming over or something.”

Robin shot him a disapproving look.

“Aren’t you a bit old to be afraid of meeting the parents?”

He shrugged.

“I just could do without your family on Valentine’s day, from now on,” he said, and Robin laughed. “Seems nice, though, your thing. Who’s coming?”

“It will be me, Ils, Vanessa, Pat, Michelle,” she said, before adding, “Oh, yeah, Michelle. Gotta block her on the rota, too.”

Strike crossed his arms.

“You, Michelle and Pat? That’s half of my employees, already.”

“Well, we deserve some slack for putting up with the blokes, don’t we?” she said, and Strike laughed.

“Fair enough.”

“And your sister,” added Robin.

Strike stared at her. “My sister?” he asked, surprised.

“Yes. I want to get to know her more, and if I leave it up to you, that’s not gonna happen, is it?”

“No, and there’s bloody good reasons for that,” he said, agitated. “Lucy’s slippery. You invite her for one thing, soon we’re drowning in dozens of dinner party invitations, and she makes us feel guilty for missing every single one – and then, you make us go so she won’t feel bad, knowing you,” he concluded, pointing a finger at her.

Robin giggled.

“Christ, Cormoran,” she said. “You sound like a conspiracy theorist. I think I can manage Lucy, thanks. Couldn’t be much harder than managing her brother, now, could it?” She flashed him a cheeky smile, and he made a face of annoyance, before grinning, too.

“Anyway,” Robin continued, “That’s us, basically.”

Strike nodded.

“Well, seems like fun. Good for you to have some time off,” he said, sincerely. Then, he narrowed his eyes. “Wait,” he started. “What sort of… activities have you guys planned again?”

Robin shrugged.

“The usual. Just meet the girls, chat, eat breakfast food, maybe a party game… Those kinds of things.”

He still looked suspicious.

“So there wouldn’t be, for instance, any… male entertainers?”

“Cormoran!” exclaimed Robin, laughing in surprise. “Of course not, it’s not a bloody hen party!”

“How would I know,” he shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve never been invited.”

She shook her head, grinning.

“Yeah, that’s the whole point. No men allowed on Galentine’s Day. Goes against the code.”

“The code.”

“Yep,” said Robin, nodding. “Leslie Knope’s code.” She pulled a serious face before continuing. “Hoes before bros. Uteruses before duderuses. Ovaries before brovaries.”

Strike stared at her, his eyebrows raised and a widening grin, before laughing heartily, looking absolutely delighted.

“Sounds like a pretty serious code,” he said.

“Indeed it is. I could, though,” Robin added, “make an exception for you. I’m positive you’d love it,” she said, winking at him.

“Maybe next time,” Strike said, grinning, and Robin chuckled.

“Well,” she said, getting up. “I’ve got to get going, surveillance shift.” She gave Strike a peck on the lips and turned, but he held her by her wrist.

“Wait,” he said, and she turned again, curious. “What about Valentine’s? Any ‘plans’ for that? And, most importantly, do these plans include this old bastard?”

Robin raised one eyebrow.

“I thought you said Valentine’s Day was invented by Hallmark to sell cards.”

He shrugged.

“I may have changed my mind.”

She smiled.

“I suppose I can spare you some time,” she said. “As long as you don’t plan on arriving pissed and having an argument with teenagers.”

Strike laughed.

“You’re never gonna let me live that one down, are you?”

“Keep you on your toes, shouldn’t I?” she said, winking, and, with a final goodbye kiss, directed herself to the door, pausing by it, however, and turning again with an amused expression.

“What?” asked Strike, a smile in the corner of his lips.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” She seemed to be trying to suppress giggles. “I can just picture it. You, sitting with the gals… the table filled with cute drinks and waffles with loads of whipped cream… Balloons all around... And a pink boa around your neck.”

Strike snorted.

“Seems to me,” he said, flashing her a smile. “If there was more food and fewer people, it would be a perfect party.”

Chapter Text

The next two weeks passed quickly, and Robin woke up on the morning of the 13th excited about her plans, and not without reason. She was delighted about having her own friends now, people she really cared about and that she knew care about her, too. Even if some of them had been introduced by Strike, she knew the friendship was sincere.

Unlike, she thought with a grimace, the ‘friendships’ she’d had to endure when she was with Matthew. She thought her last Valentine’s Day would likely fare as a pretty okay night compared to doing Galentine’s Day with the likes of Sarah Shadlock and co., cheating with her ex-husband notwithstanding.

But she had to admit that her enthusiasm at the moment had other motivations, too. She’d realized in the past few weeks that she was actually excited about Valentine’s, for the first time in several years. Even if neither she nor Cormoran were particularly into the holiday, it somehow felt different – not as if they were adhering to an imposed celebration, but like it was, in fact, something uniquely their own. 

This realization, along with the mood of the holiday, had given a quality of lightness about her ways for the last few weeks. In truth, Robin thought, a warm feeling in her chest, she was simply happy.

Therefore, she had set about organizing this day to celebrate this new moment in her life, and which better way than with her friends? Of course, she had her plans for the next day, too; but those could wait.

With a spring on her feet, she went about preparing food and decorations for when the girls arrived. She considered that this was probably the first time she actually felt happy about playing host, too, and this thought brought another smile to her face.

Robin had ordered pastries and petit fours from the local bakery, and set about making tea, eggs, and, of course, waffles, to be served with loads of whipped cream. She didn’t go overboard with decorations, since it wasn’t really her style; still she had bought some balloons, a few scented candles and cute thematic napkins.

She had barely finished the last touches when the guests started to arrive, some greetings more enthusiastic than others (Lucy never failed to squash her in a hug these days; while Michelle, who she saw almost every day, barely giving her an air kiss) and soon they were chatting and eating around the table.

To Robin’s total lack of surprise, the first subject after the usual pleasantries was, of course, her relationship with Cormoran.

“So, Robin,” Vanessa had asked, scrutinizing her over her glass. “How’s things with Strike?” and immediately all eyes turned to Robin.

“Things are… good,” Robin said, a little uncomfortable in the spotlight. But there seemed to be such genuine interest in her friends’ faces that she let herself relax. “Well, to be honest, things are great, actually. I was a little afraid about how everything would go with the agency, but it’s been so easy and natural…” She said, looking from one to the other, and smiling. “I’m really happy, to be honest, and – Oh, Ilsa, sod off.”

“What?” Ilsa asked, pressing her lips together to suppress a grin.

Robin rolled her eyes.

“That smug face. Just stop it,” Robin said, but she found herself laughing.

“Well, I suppose you know what I’m going to say?” Ilsa replied.

Robin shot her an annoyed look.

“Is it ‘I told you so’ ?”

Ilsa shook her head.

“I’m not gonna say ‘I told you so’,” she responded, “Even though I did. On several occasions. Some of which, I orchestrated, specifically to tell you so.”

Robin snorted.

“Yeah, and ended up scaring the hell of both of us in the process, so you can sod right off.” Robin crossed her arms to feign seriousness, even though she was clearly trying not to laugh.

“Well, I said I was not going to say ‘I told you so’.”

Robin chuckled.

“Fine. What were you going to say?”

Ilsa smiled earnestly.

“That I’m really, really happy for you guys.”

Robin smiled too, and at that, all the women piped up to agree with Ilsa.

“Oh, you have no idea how happy I am, Robin,” said Lucy, placing a hand on her chest. “Seriously, I thought my brother was a lost cause, at this point.”

“Way to encourage her, girl,” said Michelle, and the table laughed.

“No, what I mean is,” continued Lucy, “I had lost hope of him finding someone who’d stick with him, you know?”

“You mean someone nuts enough to have your brother?” asked Vanessa, amused.

“Darling, you’re not helping, I’m afraid,” said Pat, smiling and patting Lucy’s hand.

“Well, we can all agree that Corm can be a stubborn arse, so Lucy has a point, I guess,” Ilsa chimed in.

Robin watched this exchange with amusement, if a little discomfort.

Lucy sighed, frustrated.

“No, you’re not getting it,” she said, and then she turned to Robin. “Look, Robin, what I’m saying is, I always knew Stick would only commit to someone he was completely, one hundred percent sure was right for him. We watched him come and go with Charlotte for 16 bloody years, and even if none of us liked her, he seemed to see something good enough to endure all of that -- and yet, that wasn’t enough, you see?” She raised her eyebrows to emphasize her point. “He’s stubborn; wouldn’t settle and give up his freedom for anything less.”

Lucy paused for a moment, searching for the right words.

“And, you know, I criticized him a lot for it; but truth is, I’m glad, now, that he didn’t—because, honestly, you two are perfect for each other. And this is not a snark,” she added, shooting a glare at Vanessa who was about to say something. “I mean it in the best way possible. Stick may be difficult, but he is a good man who looked out for me a lot, growing up. I’m just really happy he found you, is all.”

There was a collective “Awww” at the table.

“Yeah, knowing Corm the longest, after you, Lucy,” Ilsa said, “I have to say I agree. He’s a wonderful man, but like I said, stubborn. Of course it had to take a beautiful tropical fish like Robin to make him settle,” she concluded, winking at Robin.

Everyone laughed, but Robin merely smiled, still feeling a little emotional about Lucy’s words.

“Thank you, Lucy,” she said, reaching for Lucy’s hand. “That really means a lot, you know,” and Lucy smiled. “Well,” Robin continued, eager to change the subject. “What are you guys planning for Valentine’s?”

“Ooh,” said Vanessa. “It’s your first together, isn’t it Robin? What are you planning?”

Robin sighed, displeased that her attempt to change the subject hadn’t worked.

“Well, that’s a surprise, actually. Don’t want anybody spilling the beans.”

There were multiple protests, but Robin was adamant.

“I’ll just warn you something, then,” said Ilsa. “It better be good.”

Robin turned to her, surprised.

“Ilsa,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Are you implying you know what Cormoran is planning?”

Ilsa shrugged, and there was a collective gasp.

Robin stared at her dumbfounded.

“I can’t believe he would tell you,” she said.

“Neither can I!” said Lucy, in a high pitch. “The sheer luck!”

Ilsa shook her head.

“Oh, that’s not luck, dear, it’s talent,” she said, and everybody frowned. Ilsa grinned. “I pestered him so much about it he ended up blurting it out.”

Robin snorted.

“What the hell did you do? Kept repeating ‘Tell me, Corm. Corm, tell me. Tell me. Tell me, Corm.’ ad infinitum?”

Ilsa shot her an outrageous look.

“I’m a little more skilled than that, Robin, aren’t I? Besides, what are you implying, that I’m a Leslie Knope-type A?”

Robin stared at her.

“Um, not implying. You are, Ils, everybody knows it.”

Ilsa looked at everyone else, who were either shrugging or nodding their heads.

“I’m no such thing!”

Robin chuckled.

“Have you not heard your own words about meddling between me and Corm? You’re definitely a Type A steamroller.”

Ilsa shook her head.

“I’m definitely not. I’m super chill all the time.”

There was a roar of laughter.

“Sure, Ils,” continued Robin. “Honestly. You made me watch 5 seasons of Law and Order when I was staying at your place. I don’t even like Law and Order.”

“That’s ridiculous, you love Law and Order! You watched 5 seasons of it!”

Robin stared at her with her eyebrows raised, and Ilsa sighed, defeated.

“Fine. I guess I can be a bit of a steamroller. But, just like Leslie Knope, I get things done in the end, don’t I?”

Robin smiled.

“You do. And we love you for it.”

Ilsa smiled and opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Michelle.

“Besides,” she said to Ilsa, “It’s kinda cute. Matches up well with Strike as Ron Swanson.”

Everyone turned to her, with an “oooh” of dawning realization.

“Oh my God,” said Robin, frowning. “Cormoran is a bit like Ron Swanson.”

“Totally!” said Vanessa. “Big man…”

“Grumpy,” said Pat.

“Crazy ex,” chimed in Ilsa.

“But with a heart of gold,” added Lucy, eliciting another round of “awws”.

“Not to mention the diet,” said Robin. “You’d think you’d have a grasp on just how much steak Cormoran can have… and you’d be wrong.” There were some giggles.

“Same office policy, too,” added Michelle, and all eyes turned to her again. “I’m pretty sure he broke the teapot and let us argue over who had done it.”

Pat let out a gasp. “I knew it had to have been him!”

“Oh, c’mon,” said Robin, laughing. “I’m sure he did not. And if he did, he didn’t even notice you were arguing about it.”

The women still looked suspicious.

“So that makes Robin Xena the warrior princess?” asked Vanessa. “I like it. You go, girl.”

“No, actually,” Ilsa said, narrowing her eyes, “Robin is also a bit like Leslie Knope at the office, I bet.”

Robin stared at her.

“Um, how, exactly?”

Ilsa grinned, clearly happy for having her revenge.

“Tell me you have never looked at case files, in your bed, while listening to Spice Girls.”

“I don’t… ” Robin started, outraged. “Really listen to Spice Girls…”

There were collective giggles.

“Well, Strike is definitely not like Ron Swanson in that regard, I have to say,” said Michelle.

“Yeah, the man is just as into his work as Robin here,” said Pat, smiling at her.

“One more reason they’re perfect together, isn't it?” said Ilsa. 

“Well, I like my work,” Robin said, smiling. “But you know the rule. Waffles, friends and work. Work comes third.”

Seeing as Ilsa had narrowed her eyes, she continued, “I literally skipped work today to see you and eat waffles,” which was really a difficult argument to contest.

“By the way,” Robin added, looking from one to the other of her friends. “I’d like to say how much I appreciate this. Having you here today and just, having you guys, you know. It had been a long time since I felt like I had real, sincere friends, and just… it’s made all the difference for me, so thank you. I’m really grateful to have your friendship,” she concluded with a smile.

The women looked at Robin with fondness.

“Oh, no, Robin,” said Ilsa, “We’re lucky to have you in our lives. You don’t know how angry it makes me that you didn’t have that before, when you deserve it so much.”

“I agree,” said Vanessa. “You’re a really, really great friend, Robin.”

“Not to mention boss,” added Michelle, and Pat nodded in agreement, before adding, “It takes patience and grace to keep things running smoothly, and you have plenty”.

“And I think it’s no secret just how happy I am to see you with my brother,” said Lucy, smiling.

Robin looked at them, smiling and welling up with gratitude.

“Oh, thank you so much, guys,” she said, reaching for Ilsa and Vanessa’s hands, since they were closest. “I love you all, and I’m so grateful to have you in my life, too.” She wiped a couple of tears. “Well, let’s make a toast, shall we?”

They clinked their glasses loudly and took a sip. After swallowing, Lucy spoke.

“Now Ilsa, you’ve seriously gotta tell me how you made Stick blurt out what his gift was.”

Ilsa looked at them with a smug face.

“I actually guessed what it was, if you must know. Kept asking him about it, and he admitted he was doing it for Valentine’s.”

“What is it, then?” asked Vanessa, curious.

“Oh, I’m hardly gonna tell you and spoil the surprise, am I?” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just gonna say… that I bet Robin will love it. And that it’s sort of a big deal.” She turned to Robin, studying her reaction. Robin’s mouth had fallen slightly aghast.

“Ils…” Robin started, but was interrupted by Lucy.

“Oh my God!” she said. “Is he going to propose?” she said, finishing in a whisper, and there was another, louder, collective gasp. All eyes moved to Ilsa, then to Robin, and back.

“I didn’t say anything about that,” said Ilsa.

Vanessa turned to Robin.

“Is there a chance he’s going to propose?”

Robin felt overwhelmed and a little confused.

“I mean,” she started. “I certainly don’t think so? At least from what we’ve talked about…” she turned to Ilsa, trying to obtain some more information.

“Listen, Robin, relax,” Ilsa said. “Corm knows you, and I’m sure you are on the same page.” 

Resigned that they wouldn’t be getting any more information from Ilsa, the women finally moved the subject away from Robin and Strike, and into each of their plans for Valentine’s day and Vanessa’s approaching wedding.

Robin, however, felt a little zoned out for the remainder of the conversation, thinking about what Strike could possibly be planning for the next day.

Chapter Text

When Robin arrived at the office on the morning of the 14th, she found only Pat, as she had expected. Strike was on surveillance the whole day, and they wouldn’t meet until the evening.

She greeted Pat, and they chatted a bit about the previous morning, before Robin went into the inner office. When she opened the door, she saw that Strike had left something for her there.

On top of her desk, there was a box of chocolates and of her favorite biscuits, and a card. Next to her desk, she could see a balloon, red and heart-shaped, this time, in which words had been printed:

Not fucking flowers

Laughing, she opened up the card.

Dear Robin,

Did I get it right?

The real gift you’ll get tonight.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Love,

Strike

She pulled up her phone to message Strike, grinning.

Do you really think that because you’ve got me, you’re now allowed to be cheeky? x R

The answer came in a few moments.

I got you with my charm and good looks. Now, I gotta add a little humor to the mix. x C

She smiled.

It’s perfect. Thank you.

She hit send, then wrote another message.

I’m quite curious about this other gift. Ilsa said you told her.

The response this time took a little while longer.

Bloody Ilsa and her mouth. Well, I guess you’ll see tonight. Pick you up at 8? Reservations for 8:30.

Robin’s fingers hovered over the phone for a moment.

Actually, I’ll pick you up, if it’s okay with you. 7pm. I have a surprise of my own.

Unconventional, but I guess that’s us. Count me curious.

She smiled.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Cormoran. xx R

May it be the first of many. xx C

With a lightness in her chest, she went about her work for the day.

***

At just about 7 p.m., Robin maneuvered the Land Rover onto Denmark Street.  Strike was already waiting on the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette. He smiled at her as he opened the door and climbed inside.

“Hi,” she said, smiling too.

“Hi.” He kissed her, then looked at her for a moment. “You look gorgeous.”

She blushed slightly, still not quite used to Strike complimenting her on her appearance. And what with the weather, she wasn’t even wearing what she’d discovered was his favorite outfit – her blue dress --, but rather a cream jumper under her coat.

“You, too,” she said. “Bit of a turn down, though. I was expecting the suit.” He was dressed more formally than usual, but not quite to the levels of her last birthday, in a crisp black shirt under his coat.

He grinned.

“Well, I didn’t know what kind of adventure you were bringing me in. Had to dress a little more versatile.”

Robin smiled.

“Glad to see you’re curious. Shall we?”

Strike nodded.

“Just, first,” he said. “I’ve got a mixtape.”

Robin raised her eyebrows.

“You’ve what? Strike, this thing is old, but it doesn’t have a cassette player. Nor a CD player, for that matter.”

“Way ahead of you,” he grinned, waving his phone at her. “Stopify. Pretty useful.”

Robin laughed.

“Spotify, you mean.”

He shrugged.

“So,” he said, pressing play. “How did Galentine’s Day go?”

As he spoke, the music started playing and Robin was confused for a moment, staring at him with her eyebrows furrowed. Then, as realization dawned, linking his words with the energetic banjo music, she fell into a roar of laughter.

“Strike,” she said, still laughing. “I can’t believe this, it’s so romantic.”

“I’m a romantic guy,” he said, with a rueful grin.

“God,” she finally said, wiping tears. “That could have been useful a few months ago.”

“Well, tell me it won’t be useful during surveillance.” He raised one eyebrow, and she bit her lip not to laugh again.

“Yes, I suppose it will,” she said, then paused, looking at him with fondness. “I can’t believe you watched the show. Did you like it, then?”

“I did, surprisingly. Well, surprisingly for me,” he added, looking at her face. “I may even have found some inspiration.”

“Inspiration?” she asked, curious.

He grinned mischievously and shrugged.

“I’ll definitely be saying I’m a second generation vegan from now on.” Robin laughed, but still looked at him suspiciously. “C’mon now,” he said, tapping on the car panel. “Busy night ahead, apparently.”

Robin smiled and turned on the engine. As she pulled away from the curb, the song changed and Al Green’s “Let’s stay together” started playing.

She turned to him for a moment, surprised.

“Told you,” he said simply. “Romantic.”

***

They drove for about 20 minutes, before reaching a calm street where Robin maneuvered the car into parking space. Strike was clearly quite curious.

“At least it’s not an abandoned warehouse,” he said, unfastening his seat belt. “I was getting nervous.”

They left the car, and, taking Strike’s hand, Robin guided him for a few steps before stopping in front of a two-story building. It was apparently old, from the construction style, but well maintained. She looked up at him, and saw he was studying her.

“What’s this, Robin?”

She took out a key ring from her purse, and nodded her head in the direction of the building.

“Let’s have a look.”

She unlocked the door and they entered into an empty room, with clear walls and wooden floors, not too large but more spacious than the agency’s reception.

“Surprisingly, no estate agents were available on Valentine’s Day,” Robin said, smiling at him. “But I explained, and they lent me the keys to show you tonight.”

Robin proceeded to show him the small kitchen, the reasonably big bathroom, and led him through a door to another room, about the same size as the first. He observed the spaces as carefully as he did her. Finally, they returned to the first room.

Strike kept looking at Robin for a long moment; she didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“So. Any deductions?” she finally asked, smiling and looking up at him.

“Think so,” he said. “Would like for you to explain it, though.”

She nodded, biting her lip.

“Well,” she started. “We know our lease is ending, and that it likely won’t be renewed.” Strike nodded. “I know that… that you aren’t looking forward to that. Otherwise, you would have taken on this already.” She paused, and continued in a quieter voice. “I know how you feel about the office. I feel that way, too. I could see the process of looking for a new place… that it might not be so easy.”

Strike nodded again, swallowing.

“So,” continued Robin, looking around; Strike’s lack of a reaction clearly making her nervous. “I set out about looking. Took me a while, but finally found this place – the space matches our needs, the location is pretty okay, and it’s surprisingly within our budget.” She paused, still not looking at him. “There is one caveat, though – I know you said it would be hard to find a place with a space for you to live in, and – well, you were right. I kind of thought I’d be able to, but quite honestly, this is the best I could find. At least there’re flats at reasonable rates not too far, I’ve checked it. It might be easier to search for one place, than two, though, right?” Strike was still silent. Robin was aware she was rambling at this point, but still continued. “Well, that’s it, basically. It’s not that I wanted to do it without you, you know, it’s just—what I said -- I didn’t mind it, so thought I’d spare you…” she trailed off. 

Strike looked at her for a long moment before finally speaking.

“Robin, look at me,” he said, and she did. “This is…” He took a look around. “Bloody perfect. I can’t even believe that you were able to pull this off, by yourself…” she opened her mouth to speak, but he continued, reaching for her hands. “Thank you,” he said, and she was surprised to notice he seemed a little emotional. “You were right about it. I tried to hide, but you know me well enough at this point to see it. So for that, too… Thank you.” He swallowed again. Robin wiped a rogue tear off the corner of her eyes, and smiled.

“You really like it?”

“Hell, yeah,” he said. “What’s not to like? You’ve bloody done, as you always do.” He smiled widely, then paused, his hand hovering over his coat pocket. “Well,” he said. “I was going to give you this at dinner, but—“ he looked around. “This is perfect, actually.”

He took from his pocket a small wooden box. Robin’s eyes widened instantly.

“What’s this, Cormoran?” she asked, nervous.

He smiled.

“Your Valentine’s gift.” He handed it to her. “Open it.”

She took it, but still looked at him with a nervous, if not scared, expression.

“Christ’s sake, relax,” he said, laughing. “I’m not on my knees, am I?” That made Robin even more nervous, and he grinned. “Yeah, I know, that doesn’t say a lot. Well, I’m not. Not even metaphorically.” He gestured for her to continue. “Just open it.”

Placated at last, Robin turned her eyes to the box and opened it slowly.

“I couldn’t carry the real one around, so it’s a replica, just as a… memento for us to keep. The real one will be in the office on Monday – or maybe we might just skip that, given your surprise…”

Robin stared speechless at the box. It contained a small metal plaque, in which ‘Strike and Ellacott Detective Agency’  had been engraved.

“Strike,” she said, emotional. She looked at him, her eyes welling up. “Are you serious?”

“Are you kidding?” he responded. “That’s long past overdue, isn’t it?”

Robin smiled brightly at him, radiant.

“There’s some papers to go with it, too, if you want,” he continued, and she frowned. “Equal partnership. Equally as overdue.”

Robin’s mouth fell open.

“Oh God, Cormoran,” she said. “I mean, I do have that money from the apartment, and honestly—”

“You do realize the agency owes you a shitload of money, right? From overtime, not to mention you should have been paid a lot more all this time?” Seeing her expression, he continued, before she could open her mouth to protest. “Look, we can sort this later, yeah? Just… what do you say? Is this a yes?”

She laughed, incredulous.

“Don’t be silly,” Robin said, taking a step in his direction and hugging him tightly. He hugged her back. “Of course it’s a yes. There’s nothing, nothing I’d like more.” He smiled.

“Do you really like this place?” she asked, into his chest. “Are you really not bothered that you won’t be able to live as close to the office?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Told you, it’s perfect.” She smiled against his chest. He rubbed her back for a moment. “Besides,” he continued. “I’m kinda glad you didn’t find a place for me to live. Now, we could look together… if you want.”

Robin stepped back a little, to look at him.

“What are you saying, Cormoran?”

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes dancing, then shrugged.

“We’re doing the big changes,” he said. “Why not go all in?”

“Do you really mean moving in together?” she asked, and he nodded. She looked at him for a moment. “That’s a big commitment, though. Are you sure you won’t get tired of me?”

He laughed.

“I’m positive,” he said. “D’you know why?”

She shook her head.

“Because I love you…” he said, kissing the top of her forehead. “And I like you.” He lowered his head to kiss her.

“Me, too,” she said, when they parted, beaming at him. “You know, most guys would have gone with that first, for Valentine’s.”

He smiled, putting a lock of hair behind her ear.

“I know,” he said simply. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Robin.”

She just smiled at him for a moment, wanting to take it all in, to register everything about it. She needed to remember every little thing about how perfect her life was right then.

Then she stepped forward to him again, hugging him tightly. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”