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The late afternoon sun filtered through the grimy window and settled in golden pools on the dusty carpet, casting a soft amber glow over the dimly-lit office. The bustling sounds of Denmark Street had begun to quieten as the various businesses closed their doors for the day. The two partners had spent the afternoon sorting through boxes of paperwork, filing or shredding them as necessary. The following morning they, with the help of Barclay, Pat and Hutchins, would be moving out of their familiar office in Denmark Street and moving to their new location less than half a mile away. Despite their best efforts to organise the vast amount of documents over the past few weeks, the demands of the agency had stifled their progress and as a result the two partners were spending their Sunday ensconced in the office surrounded by teetering piles of ancient files and accounts.
Strike had been focusing on the outer office when he noticed the silence that appeared to have fallen over the partner’s room, where Robin had been diligently working through the cabinets for the past two hours. Heaving himself out of the chair, he stretched his aching shoulders and walked into the office which had become filled with shadows since he had last peered in.
Strike’s gaze swept over the dim room, his eyes adjusting to the slightly ethereal glow of the setting sun, and landed on his partner. Robin was standing in front of the largest window overlooking Denmark Street, her body silhouetted in the sunset and her strawberry blonde hair cascading down her back in a river of spun gold. For a fleeting moment Strike wondered what those smooth, flaxen strands would feel like between his fingers, before he pushed the thought swiftly from his mind and cleared his throat.
‘You alright?’ Strike asked, noticing just how still his partner was holding herself.
Robin half-turned towards him at the sound of his voice, her smile lighting up her face as it always did, but her eyes remained sombre.
‘Oh I’m fine.’ She shrugged slightly, turning back towards the window as Strike came to stand beside her. ‘I’m just going to miss this place. It’s a big step. Moving.’ She explained quietly, her blue- grey eyes cast downwards over the slowly-darkening street.
‘Don’t I know it.’ Strike grunted. ‘All this bloody packing.’
Robin rolled her eyes and smiled without taking her eyes off the scene below.
‘I don’t mean that. Denmark Street is the only place I’ve ever really felt…well the only place I’ve really felt like me, I suppose. My life changed so much that first day. It’s hard saying goodbye. Stupid. I know. I didn’t realise I was quite so sentimental.’ She laughed.
Strike watched her out of the corner of his eye; her pale skin glowed in the half-light and her full lips were slightly pursed with worry. Standing this close, Strike could see her long eyelashes flutter as she blinked, and the tiny thrum of her heartbeat pulsing softly beneath the porcelain skin of her neck.
‘Denmark Street didn’t change you Robin. You did that yourself.’ He spoke quietly into the silence, not taking his eyes off her, his voice deep and sincere. ‘But I know what you mean. If it helps I feel exactly the same. This is where it all began. If I hadn’t come here, I don’t think I’d even have a business now, let alone such a bloody successful one.’ He looked out of the window at the shop-owner opposite as he wheeled an overflowing wheelie bin outside and deposited it at the curb.
On instinct, and perhaps against his better judgement but unable to stop himself, Strike reached a long arm around Robin’s shoulder, gently pulling her into his side in one clumsy movement.
Robin felt a sudden bolt of electricity fizz through her body as she leant into her partner’s side, the musky scent of his warm body enveloping her and making her feel slightly light headed. Slowly leaning her head against him, she felt a deep sigh silently escape her and she briefly closed her eyes, temporarily allowing herself to enjoy this rare and precious moment. Physical contact between the partners was so rare as to be almost non-existent, partly, Robin suspected, due to Strike’s efforts to never encroach on her personal space. Whilst she was consistently grateful to her partner for respecting her so completely, there had been moments over the past few years where she had wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrap around her and hold her close; to feel his warm breath against her neck and his rough stubble graze her cheek. She always forced these thoughts immediately from her mind, determinedly focusing on something else. Anything else.
Yet as she inhaled the smoky, unique scent of her business partner and best friend, and felt his rough fingers gently brush against the bare skin of her arm, she found that she couldn’t force herself to focus on anything else. Her mind and her senses were full of Strike, and for the first time in all the years she had known him, she let the feeling overwhelm her. Unable and, for once, unwilling to resist it.
Strike felt Robin’s breathing stutter slightly as he curled his forearm more firmly around her, ensconcing her in the curve of his arm. It was the closest they had been since her wedding, a fact he was sure she was not unaware of. The pair stood in the ever-encroaching darkness, watching the few Londoners meandering down Denmark Street as the sun set on the Capital. When Strike spoke, his voice was a deeper, gravelly version of itself.
‘The next place will be good. Bigger, for starters. More space for all of us. We can expand, if we want to.’ As he stood there with her head resting gently against the side of his chest, Strike increasingly felt an overwhelming need to tug Robin even closer into him; to brush his lips against her golden head and breathe her in deeply, her perfume filling his senses entirely in a way he never allowed himself to even imagine.
In an effort to distract himself, he found himself mumbling about the various positives of their new office location, his voice filling the silent room.
‘Leaving Denmark Street isn’t an end Ellacott. It’s a beginning.’ He finished quietly, gently squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.
Robin lifted her head from where it rested warmly against him, her eyes finding his gaze in the dark office. The street lamps had just flickered into life, casting an artificial orange glow through the window and over his stubbled face. The planes of his cheekbones appeared even more defined than usual and Robin resisted the urge to reach up and run her fingers along their sharp contours. Strike’s green eyes shone darkly, almost black in the glow of the street lamps, and Robin could feel their gaze focused intently on her. Her heart thudded wildly in her chest as they stood closer than they had in years, the rhythmic beating so loud she was sure he would hear it.
‘Robin.’ Strike began quietly. ‘I…’ but the usually articulate Strike found he couldn’t finish his sentence. It was too monumental, too powerful, yet he knew whatever he said would not be enough. Instead, he let his eyes rove over her face, willing her to give him a definitive sign that they were on the same page. That he wasn’t going to ruin everything that was good between them.
As though the pure intensity of Strike’s gaze might burn her, Robin felt her own eyes briefly drift closed as she tried to make sense of what was happening. She felt a warm, dry hand gently cup the side of her face and heard herself gasp slightly at the contact. Opening her eyes and swallowing nervously, Robin felt a bolt of pure pleasure swoop through her body as she took in the look in her partner’s eyes; a combination of fierce passion and something far softer and gentler. Tilting her face towards his, she felt her insides begin to melt as his soft lips found hers in the darkness. Her mouth moulded perfectly against his as he wrapped his arms around her completely, holding her as though he would never let go. Sliding her own arms up, she gently wrapped them behind his neck, her fingers gently stroking the curls above his collar, eliciting a soft groan from her partner.
Strike ran his large hands up her back and into her hair, bunching it gently in his hand before letting it tumble softly through his fingers. He continued kissing her as though he had been waiting his whole life to do exactly that; his lips gently yet firmly caressing hers and his stubble grazing deliciously against her soft skin. He felt an explosion akin to fireworks fill his chest as he felt the woman he had dreamt about for the last five years curve her body against his and show him that she felt the same way he did. That she wanted this too.
A few moments later, he felt Robin pull back slightly and reluctantly he relaxed his arms around her. Robin dropped her arms from where they had been clasped around his neck, instead placing them on his chest as she caught her breath. Studying her face as he tried to calm his own breathing, Strike searched for what might be going through her mind. Regret? Elation? Confusion?
‘That was…’ Robin began, casting her eyes over Strike’s face and quickly away again.
’Incredible.’ Strike finished her sentence, sliding a finger under her chin and tilting her face upwards so that she could not help but look at him. Robin couldn’t stop a grin spreading across her face and gave a small chuckle.
‘Yes.’ She replied nervously. ‘It was.’
‘Thank Christ for that.’ He breathed out nervously. ‘ Ellacott, you have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.’ Strike decided that the truth was the only way forward now, there was little point not being completely honest with her after that kiss.
’Really?’ Unbelievably to Strike, she still sounded unsure.
’Really.’ He replied firmly, curling his arms around her once more and bringing his mouth down to hers to place a feather light kiss first on her lips and then her forehead. Robin felt her mind go pleasingly blank as she sank deeper into his embrace; her bones felt as though they had turned to liquid as his mouth began to slowly explore her neck, his warm breath blooming over her sensitive skin.
‘I have wanted this…you, us…for so bloody long.’ Strike spoke quietly in her ear in between kisses and Robin shivered at both his words and the pure feeling of desire spreading through her body. She felt Strike’s lips become still just below her earlobe and there was an infinitesimal pause before he spoke again. ‘It’s only fair that i tell you this now, before this goes any further.’ Robin felt Strike swallow, his breath tickling the sensitive skin behind her ear. ‘I’m in love with you Ellacott.’
Speechless, Robin ran her hand over his face and gently lifted it so his dark eyes were level with hers. ‘You’re…in love with me?’ She asked, unsure whether she had heard him correctly.
‘I am.’ He replied, his voice more sincere than she had ever heard it. ‘Sorry if that wasn’t what you were expecting to hear.’ He gave a short, nervous laugh and Robin’s eyes pricked with tears. It was a moment before she could reply, and Strike’s eyes remained focused on her, awaiting her response.
’Well, the feeling’s mutual.’ She smiled up at him, trying desperately to quell the tears that were so inconveniently mounting up.
The smile that Strike gave her in reply was so dazzling Robin knew it would be imprinted in her memory forever. Pulling her even more tightly against him, Strike brushed his lips against hers once more and the two partners became lost in one another again, swallowed up by the inky darkness of Denmark Street.