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It was a rainy evening in London when Mary Crawley first stepped into the office of Detective Richard Ellis, tall and thin with eyes which could cut right through him- could probably cut right through anyone. She was immaculately dressed in a tailored suit, hat pulled just so over her hair, so that he could tell immediately she came from great wealth. He sat up a bit and leaned forward against his desk as she settled herself in the chair across from him.
“Detective Ellis,” she greeted. “I’m afraid I have a case for you, and it isn’t one I’m happy to bring.” Richard’s eyes narrowed slightly, his brows drawing together as he focused on what she was saying. She seemed worried, more anxious than she was letting on, and his mind started working before she had even explained a thing. “This is my son, George Crawley,” she said, producing a picture of a young boy from her bag. He looked to be a kind lad, with big round eyes and perfectly styled hair- no doubt a sign of the wealth he’d been born into. “He’s been missing since this morning, but the police say it’s too early to declare him truly missing .”
Well, that sounded about right, and Richard couldn’t quite hold back a bitter chuckle. “I’m not surprised,” he told her. “You’d think with it being a child they’d get right on it- especially the child of one of the wealthiest families in England.”
Something tugged at the corner of her lips, a small smirk of agreement perhaps which added to the mask of nonchalance she wore. “I agree,” she said. “Children don’t just get up and walk away, not the same as adults are prone to do. And anyway, George had nannies around him as well as staff and his family in the house at all times. I can’t understand where he might have gotten off to that none of them would know a thing.”
“Probably because someone in your house does know something,” he figured. “If your son is George Crawley, I suspect that makes you Mary Crawley, am I correct?”
“You are,” she answered.
Richard hummed. “I’ll be in Downton village by late tonight, and I’ll see what I can dig up about your missing son.”
Relief flickered over her face, more subtle than the shadows of the raindrops from the moonlight hitting his window, but it painted enough of a picture that Richard already had some ideas forming about her. She was a worried mother, more worried than her wealth and status would allow her to show in their world, but it seeped through if one knew what they were looking for. Fortunately, he did.
He caught the last train out from London that was offered that evening and made it to Downton at about eleven, taking his luggage and walking up to the ticket booth when he arrived. Mary had left the picture of her son with him, in hopes that it might somehow be of use, and Richard had been determined that it would be before he returned it to her. If all went well, he’d be able to return it along with the boy himself.
The man in the ticket booth offered Richard a kind smile as he approached, and was prompted by his setting his luggage down to ask him, “What can I do for you, sir?”
“I was wondering if you might have seen this child come through here,” he stated, passing the picture to the other man. “Can you recall perhaps selling a ticket to a person who had him in tow?”
The salesman picked up the picture in his weathered hands, bushy eyebrows knitting together as he concentrated on trying to recall. “I’m afraid I can’t,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “It’s possible, as many people as come through here every day, but I don’t believe he’s come through here.”
Richard smiled tightly and thanked him for his time as he retrieved the picture, and then he started the walk up to the Grantham Arms, where he’d been put up for the night by Mary. In the morning, he’d come up to Downton Abbey as a guest, where he’d be allowed to begin conducting his investigation without raising any flags to warn those who might have been involved. It was a good enough plan, he thought, and should at least get him started in the right direction.
As he approached the aforementioned public house, he noticed a tall figure leaning against the wall, hat pulled down over his eyes and watching him walk up. He didn’t seem overly imposing, although he very well could have done, but he lifted his head a bit to show Richard that he had been seen. The first thing that caught Richard’s attention about this man was the shock of his icy blue eyes, and how they contrasted against his hair which was just about as dark as the night sky above them. Add to that his fair skin, and the smirk pulling at his red lips, and Richard was beginning to think he cut a rather imposing figure after all. If nothing else, he was the sort of man who spelled out Richard’s favorite kind of trouble.
Deciding to play the game, Richard walked right up to Thomas Barrow with a similar smirk on his own lips, and he sat his luggage down on the pavement beside him. “Do you normally wait out here to watch strangers, or is this something new you’re trying out?” he asked.
“Only watch the handsome ones,” Thomas replied, and shot a wink in Richard’s direction. “You staying tonight?”
Richard chuckled a bit and answered, “Just tonight. Did you have something in mind?”
“Depends,” he said. “How do you feel about some company?”
This earned him another chuckle, as Richard tilted his head just slightly to the side while he considered the offer. “I’ll buy you a drink,” he eventually decided, and the grin on the other man’s lips felt like a trap he was willingly walking straight into.
The two sat down together inside and spoke for some time, learning each other’s names and where they each were from- in addition to many other things. But eventually Richard began to stretch, and he looked over at Thomas, who was watching him carefully through the haze of smoke that came from his cigarette. “How about it, then?” he asked. “Are you ready to go up?”
Thomas chuckled and put his cigarette out in the ashtray in the center of the table, giving the impression that he was ready to do so, before he said, “Not tonight, I don’t think. Can’t make it too easy for you after all, can I? There’s not enough fun in that.”
“Not enough fun?” Richard repeated curiously. “So there is some, you think?”
“Handsome bloke like you?” Thomas pointed out, glancing over him as he spoke. “There’d be quite a lot of fun- but I think there’s more fun in making you play the game.” He winked again, and walked out, leaving a slightly incredulous Richard in his wake.
Richard went up to his room- regrettably alone- and settled in for the night, pulling out the picture of little George Crawley and looking it over once again. No, there wasn’t much left to be done that night, but he still thought it a good idea to at least consider what he knew so far. A missing heir and a house full of staff who could have taken him- a house full of family, too, as he wasn’t going to be too quick to rule that out. Anyone who had access to that boy was a suspect; he just had the task of sorting through them all until he found the culprit.
The next morning saw Richard rising bright and early to make the trek up to Downton Abbey itself, his mind set and focused on the task ahead of him. Well… when it didn’t wander to a certain handsome stranger from the night before.
One could imagine his surprise when he knocked on the door, and none other than said handsome stranger opened it. He looked different now, with the sun reflecting off his face as opposed to the moonlight, and wearing a butler’s livery as opposed to his day suit from the night before. Still just as handsome, but less seductive and more endearing with the way his eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock, before he quickly schooled his expression back to that of a servant.
“You’re Lady Mary’s guest, I take it, Mr. Ellis?” he asked, and Richard smiled as he nodded and stepped into the house.
“That I am,” he confirmed. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Thomas- or, I suppose I should call you Mr. Barrow now, shouldn’t I, if you’re the butler?”
Thomas glanced quickly around them to be sure the space was empty before he gave Richard a conspiratorial smirk and answered, “Only when there’s people around. You can call me whatever you like when we’re alone.” Ah, so the teasing wasn’t to stop then, Richard noted. He couldn’t find it in himself to be disappointed.
They started in toward the staircase which led up to the gallery so Thomas could lead Richard to the room he’d be staying in, but the pair were interrupted by Mary herself descending, and she smiled just a touch when she saw Richard. He noticed that it was the same sort of guarded smile she’d allowed herself when in his office before. So… she couldn’t even be open in her own home? How interesting.
“Ah, Mr. Ellis,” she greeted when they met on the middle landing. “I’m happy to see you’ve arrived safely. I trust your accommodations last night were to your liking? If you hadn’t been coming in so late, I’d have asked you to come straight on, but I didn’t want to wake the staff in the middle of the night.”
“Of course, I understand,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “I rather enjoyed the stop off, actually. I don’t often get to have a night off to sit and have a drink and a chat, but I managed both last night, and enjoyed them in equal measure.” He could just see Thomas bite back a smirk at the implications only they were privy to.
“How intriguing,” Mary commented. “Well, please don’t let me stop you from getting settled in- we’ll have tea in the library once you’re ready.” She turned to Thomas and gave him a polite nod. “Barrow,” she said, and then went on her way.
Once they were in Richard’s room, Thomas shut the door and smirked at him, leaning slightly back against it. “I have to admit, this was a very pleasant turn of events,” he said. “Thought you’d be settling in somewhere in the village, and it’d be a while before I saw you again.”
Richard lifted a curious brow and asked him, “How’d you know I wasn’t moving on after last night?”
“Suitcase isn’t big enough for a very long trip,” he explained, “but not small enough to think it wasn’t for travel. Took my chances on if you were just a town over, or staying here.”
His quick thinking was rather impressive to Richard, who lifted his brows curiously at the analysis. “Well, it looks like your risk has been rewarded,” he said. “The game is set to continue.”
Thomas grinned at him, and chuckled. “Good luck then, Mr. Ellis, though I’m not too sure you’ll need it.” Then, just as he had the night before, Thomas winked and walked out.
Richard chuckled and shook his head in an amused sort of way as he watched the door shut. Thomas Barrow was trouble alright, but luckily for both of them, Richard rather liked getting into trouble.
Tea was rather revealing to Richard, and it didn’t take him long at all to decide none of the family had been involved in taking little George. They were all genuinely concerned, and genuinely irritated with the police for not taking up the search sooner, which wouldn’t have been the case if they’d been involved at all. So, that left the staff, and Richard found himself grateful for the excuse of going down to see Thomas to keep them from wondering why he was down there.
He quickly ruled out the cook, Mrs. Patmore, and all her staff, as well as Mrs. Hughes, the head housekeeper. The Bateses were clean, as well, which really just left Mrs. O’Brien- Lady Grantham’s maid- a few others on staff who didn’t seem to be the type. Well, and there was Thomas, but he didn’t seem to be the type either.
That fact made it quite a shock when O’Brien pulled Richard aside to hastily whisper to him, “I overheard Lady Mary and her Ladyship talking about how you were going to come in and try to find Master Crawley, so I think it’s important you know Mr. Barrow took a trip up to London the same morning the boy disappeared, and we haven’t seen him since.”
Richard’s eyes clouded a bit as he grew troubled. “Thank you, Mrs. O’Brien,” he said. “I’ll look into it.”
He wandered back upstairs after that, and went to find Mary, already forming a plan in his head as to how he wanted to handle this. “I’d like to take your butler, Mr. Barrow, back to London with me,” he told her. “We met last night at the Grantham Arms by chance and have gotten on rather well since, and I think it’d be helpful on this case to have someone with me who knows your son but wouldn’t be recognisable to just anyone as such.”
Mary’s eyes widened a bit at this, and she blinked a few times. “You need Barrow to help you on this case?” she asked him. “I suppose it makes sense, that George would be quicker to trust him than you, if that’s what you’re thinking… But still, it does seem odd.”
“I’m sure it does,” Richard confirmed, “but it’d still be quite a help to me- just in case we find him and I haven’t got time to send for someone he’ll trust without tipping anyone off.”
“Very well,” Mary agreed. “I’ll send him along with you, then.”
So Richard soon found himself on the train platform with Thomas, both of them packed up for a trip back to London, going to the ticket booth to buy their tickets. When they walked up, Richard knew he’d be dropping a bit of a bomb on Thomas by asking this, but he still had to do it. “Did you sell this man a ticket out of Downton village yesterday morning?” Thomas looked at him, seeming to feel a bit betrayed, and Richard smiled apologetically at him. “Just have to cover all my bases,” he explained.
“I don’t recall having done so,” the man behind the counter said. “What would the name have been?”
“Thomas Barrow,” Richard supplied.
They both watched as the man flipped through his book, and eventually he hummed, and nodded. “Yeah, one ticket for London to a Mr. Thomas Barrow right here, sold yesterday at eight-thirty in the morning.”
“What?” Thomas demanded, his eyes going wide. “I didn’t leave Downton yesterday at all- much less take George to London!” Something in the shock and outrage pleaded with Richard to believe him, and he frowned a bit at the new information.
He ignored Thomas for a moment to tell the ticket seller, “Alright, sell him another one and one for myself as well- name’s Richard Ellis. Thanks.” The sale was quickly completed, and the two went to board the train at once. It was only then that Thomas brought up what had happened at the ticket booth.
“You really thought I might have taken George?” he questioned, and Richard shook his head.
“Not really,” he said. “O’Brien tipped me off and I wanted you to come with me anyway, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to check up on it. Says a lot to me that he sold to you, but not to you .”
Thomas’s eyes widened with realisation. “Someone used my name,” he said, and Richard nodded.
“Exactly,” he confirmed. “Now, I won’t lie to you- I am trying to find George Crawley, and right now, O’Brien’s just jumped up on my suspect list for trying to paint you in a bad light. Is there anything you know that might be of some help?”
Thomas swallowed, and Richard watched him shift uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah,” he confessed. “Yeah, I think I might.”
Thus, the two men found themselves in a rather seedy establishment, which Richard realised rather quickly Thomas knew his way around well. In fact, Richard was rather surprised when Thomas put a hand on his back to keep him close and guide him through the crowd. He eventually brought Richard up to a man with a thin moustache and dark hair, leaning against the bar and sipping on a drink as he spoke to the bartender- Guy Dexter, who Richard knew to be one of the more influential men in London society. When he saw Thomas, he grinned.
“Ah, Mr. Barrow,” he greeted. “Coming to join me for another drink? Or who’s this you’ve brought with you? Surely you’re not replacing me already?”
Thomas chuckled, and Richard noticed how he slipped back into that suave confidence from the night before, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t replace,” he said. “I either move on, or I don’t, you know that- and you know I’ve moved on anyway. But this is Mr. Richard Ellis. Richard- this is-”
“Hang on, you mean Detective Richard Ellis?” Guy interrupted. “What are you getting into, Barrow?” Thomas sighed.
“We think O’Brien’s gone too far this time,” he said, the facade beginning to slip slightly. “Lady Mary’s son has gone missing, and she’s tried to pin it on me.”
“You wouldn’t have done it though,” Guy said, his brows creasing.
Richard interjected, “Which is why we suspect O’Brien- aside from the fact Thomas doesn’t think it’s out of her character.”
Guy hummed a little, knocking back the rest of his drink to give himself time to consider this information. His eyes followed a young couple as they laughed and squeezed past the three of them. “I haven’t heard anything,” he said. “But you know the right places to check, I couldn’t tell you anything better.”
Thomas gave a bit of a frustrated huff. “She’ll have that place locked up tight before we could get out, if we try to go in searching for anything,” he grumbled.
“Not if you get a warrant,” Guy pointed out, and Thomas’s eyes widened a little.
“You know who all that brings down if we go in with a warrant,” he said. “You really think that’s a good idea?”
Guy shrugged. “Maybe not,” he said, “but if it gets the kid back…” He pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote something out with a pen he had in his pocket, which he then signed and slid over to Thomas. “Take this to my secretary and she’ll get you one,” he instructed. “I shouldn’t be doing this, since we don’t have any sort of probable cause other than a character witness and a lie, but I don’t think you’re going after her with no cause.”
“We’re not,” Thomas confirmed, and Guy nodded.
“Good luck to you then,” he said. “Both of you. And make sure you have the right plan in place when you use that thing.”
“We will,” Richard promised. “Thank you.”
With the written order for a warrant, Thomas and Richard left to start plotting. “I’ll tell you, I don’t think O’Brien will know I’m actually helping you just yet,” he pointed out. “I could get in while you get the warrant done, and then if I find anything I’ll call and tell you to come with help?”
Richard frowned a bit. “That puts you at risk of being picked up in a raid,” he countered. “Absolutely not.”
“If it means we find George, then that’s okay,” he replied. “And if it goes south, Guy knows the right strings to pull- I wouldn’t be the first man he gets out of jail.”
“And I don’t want you to be the next,” Richard insisted.
Though Thomas didn’t fight it any further, he didn’t agree to anything either, so by the time they got to Guy’s office no plan had been derived except that they’d turn that warrant over to someone who could get O’Brien’s London flat searched, and hope something turned up. They walked into the building and a little bell rang overhead to announce their presence, which brought out a pretty woman with dark hair held up in a bun, her brown eyes warm and sweet.
“Thomas Barrow,” Phyllis greeted happily, walking around the counter to meet him. “I haven’t seen you in a long while- I hope you’re not in trouble again?”
“Steering clear of it as always, Ms. Baxter,” he replied with a grin, and kissed her cheek when she came to embrace him. “But I think it’s found me this time.”
Richard chuckled and smiled in an amused sort of way, shaking his head fondly. “More like I’m keeping you out of trouble,” he said. When Phyllis turned her attention to him, he offered his hand and introduced himself. “Richard Ellis.”
“Phyllis Baxter,” she replied, and shook it. “What can I do for the two of you?”
“Mr. Dexter sent us to have you draw this up for us,” Thomas explained, handing her the order for the search warrant. “Think you can help us out?”
Phyllis looked over the paper and chuckled. “Another forged warrant, hmm?” she said. “He asks for more of these… Let me see what I can do.” She disappeared into the back of the office, at which point Richard began to look around some of the various knick knacks and decorations scattered about. His attention was quite well captured by this, and so it took him a moment to look when the bell over the door rang again, just as Phyllis returned. “Oh, I’d have liked to have said goodbye to him,” she fretted, and Richard’s eyes widened as he realised what that had meant.
“Oh God, he’s already left,” he grumbled. Richard quickly took the forged warrant, which passed even to his trained eyes, and nodded. “Yes, this is perfect, thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to find him before he does get in trouble.”
She wished him luck and watched as he ran out the door, but lost sight of him quickly as he made a straight path to the nearest precinct. If he was fast enough, maybe they could scope the place out before Thomas got there. After all, it wouldn’t do any good if he got there before Thomas without the police. He’d blow it all, then.
It wasn’t difficult to find an officer who knew him who’d accept the warrant and get a group together, fortunately, and so Richard soon had enough officers to be able to do the search justice once they reached the flat. Fortunately, they made good time, but as soon as they got there Richard got a bad feeling. It seemed far too empty, too silent, and if that was so then where was Thomas? That feeling got worse and his stomach sank when the officers knocked on the door, and Thomas himself answered, holding little George Crawley on his hip. Thomas, no… he wanted to sigh.
“He’s got the kid!” one of the officers shouted, and then Richard was shoved aside when he tried to get through so they could pry a now crying George off of Thomas. As soon as they had him in hand, they started the process of arresting Thomas. No one heeded Richard’s protests when he tried to tell them what had really happened, and instead, Thomas was marched off as the officer who now held George- still screeching for “Mistew Bawwow”- turned back to Richard. “Thanks for your help again, Ellis,” he said. “Judge Carson won’t let him off easy for that one, I assure you- his wife works for the Crawleys, you know that?”
Just over that, he could barely hear Thomas shouting out, “-Barrow!” And then, it was over. Barrow? Richard wondered. Why would he just shout his surname at me? Regardless of the reason, Richard knew he needed to get help. Charles Carson was the toughest judge in the system, and if Thomas stood before him there was next to no chance he was getting out of it. Maybe he should go back to that Guy Dexter and see if there were some other papers he could forge to help, or maybe he could just… go and bust him out himself somehow. No, there’d still be the arrest documentation, and he’d be a fugitive, so that was no good.
As Richard walked by the train station on his way back to his own office, he chanced a glance up at the train times, wondering how soon it’d be before George was on his way home. He did a double take, and suddenly laughed, earning the attention of all those around him. “Oh my God, you genius ,” he said, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit he ran from the station and down to the CPS law offices.
He hadn’t dealt with this man very frequently, but everyone in this sort of field knew exactly who he was. One of the toughest lawyers in the city, it had been his origin he’d heard Thomas shouting out, trying to send Richard to him. It didn’t come as any surprise that Philip Villiers, who had come from Crowborough , appeared shocked at the sight of a very dishevelled detective standing in his office, trying to catch his breath. “...Can I help you?” he finally asked.
“Yes,” Richard panted. “I need your help to get a man out of jail- he doesn’t deserve to be there and he’s going to trial under Carson, who I know won’t let him out, and-”
Philip chuckled and held up a hand to try and stop Richard’s rambling. “Slow down,” he said. “You do realise I’m not for the defense, don’t you? If you want him out, you’ll need to talk to his lawyer, I can’t do anything for him, Mr. Ellis, and I think you know that.”
“Then why did he tell me to find you?” Richard questioned.
Philip sighed as he took a seat in his chair behind his desk. “I have no way of knowing,” he replied, “but you need to get a defense attorney, not me, if you want your friend to walk. And you’d better get a good one if you’re up against Charles Carson.”
“I don’t normally advocate to get men out of jail, but I know for a fact this one’s innocent. I’ll even tell you who committed the crime if you’ll find a way to help, and you can bring her in yourself if you’d like. I’ll take you straight to her door, I just need you to help.”
“Look, even if I did want to help you- which I don’t particularly see any reason to, and so I don’t want to- there isn’t anything I could do, anyway. I don’t know what the crime is, but I suggest you prepare your friend to deal with whatever the maximum penalty is for whatever he did. That’s what Carson will hit him with.”
Richard swallowed hard, gritting his teeth. “He doesn’t deserve this,” he said. “He’s going to jail for supposedly kidnapping a kid he helped me find and rescue. How does that seem fair to you? Is justice not a good enough reason to want to help? He sent me to you specifically, and I don’t know why Thomas had such faith in you, but-”
“Wait, Thomas?” Philip interrupted. “You don’t mean Thomas Barrow, do you?”
“Yes?” Richard replied, blinking.
Philip groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Finally gets arrested and not even for something he did,” he muttered. “Alright, I’ll get my coat and we’ll go get his arrest papers, and I’ll just burn them up so they have no reason to hold him.”
Surprisingly, or perhaps not so surprisingly, it wasn’t difficult for the pair of them to get ahold of those papers once they’d gotten to the jail. Philip casually asked after a copy of them for Richard’s records, having been the investigating detective that made it possible for them to even arrest Thomas in the first place, and was happy to hear it confirmed that he had the only copy of the papers. He sent Richard home that night and promised the papers would be burned, instructing him to go back in the morning so it’d be different staff on duty who wouldn’t remember the papers existing in the first place. That was exactly what Richard did.
Their reunion was brief, as Richard really wanted to get Thomas back to Downton Abbey, so he wouldn’t be in the forefront of the investigation any longer. He was hoping almost desperately that this would work, because as much as Thomas’s grin when he’d realised what was happening had made this all worth it… he still wanted to know the other man was safe.
When they returned to Downton village, Richard swung through and grabbed Sergeant Willis, telling him that they knew for a fact what had happened to George Crawley, and if he’d just come up to Downton Abbey with them, they would say. Fortunately, he acquiesced. Mary was the one who let them into the house, and George nearly knocked Thomas off balance with the way he hurtled into him to hug his legs. This made Thomas grin and simply lift the boy up, holding him on his hip again as they went into the house.
“Lady Mary, could you call all the staff into the library?” Richard requested. “I know what happened to George, and I’m ready to wrap this up.
“Certainly,” she replied, and soon enough they were all standing around as he’d requested, with himself situated between Mary and Thomas- the latter of whom still had little George- with Sergeant Willis beside Mary.
Richard smirked a bit as he looked over the staff before him. This was always the most satisfying part, seeing justice play out. Being a detective, and a well known one at that, had its perks, the most notable of which included the fact Sergeant Willis moved the moment he said, “Arrest Sarah O’Brien for the abduction of George Crawley, if you would, Sergeant.” As was predictable, she immediately began trying to protest at which point Richard said, “Thomas, would you be so kind as to tell us what you found in her flat in London? Aside from Master George himself, of course.”
“A drafted ransom note,” Thomas said. “Along with various things required to keep a child alive, which she must have had someone coming in to use for him.”
“She told me herself that Thomas had been to London the day George went missing,” Richard added, “but when I went to check this fact, I learned someone else had used his name to purchase a ticket, in an attempt to frame him for this crime. Fortunately, I believe we’ve wiped out anything connected to that, however.” It didn’t hurt to briefly explain away why they might have found anything connecting Thomas to the abduction. “If you call London and have her flat searched, I think you’ll find all the evidence you need to convict. Which… should make this case closed.”
“Not quite,” O’Brien snapped. “I’d like to know why Mr. Barrow here turned on me, after everything I’ve done for him.”
Before Richard could say or do anything, Thomas was answering her in a calm, collected, overall smooth voice, “Easy. He’s the only person I’ve ever known who really believed I was good .” The two shared a small smile, and Thomas reiterated, “Take her away, Sergeant. We’ll all be happier for it.”
Sergeant Willis did as he was instructed, and Thomas handed George back over to Mary so she could take him up for a nap while the staff filed out, leaving him and Richard alone in the library. Richard smiled at him and took a few steps toward him. “I always like it when a case wraps up neatly like this,” he confessed. “No loose ends left.”
“You must be proud of yourself,” Thomas said.
“And of you.” Thomas’s eyes widened a bit, so Richard elaborated. “You were right. I do believe you’re good,” he explained. “Then again… I do have one complaint about you.”
Thomas lifted a brow. “And what’s that?” he questioned.
“This bloody game of yours,” Richard answered with a chuckle, and Thomas laughed, though he sobered again as Richard stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his waist. “You haven’t got to play it with me,” he said. “You are good, and you cared enough for that child to risk yourself. No more hiding behind that game with me, alright? Think you can live with that?”
Thomas smiled as his arms snaked around Richard’s shoulders, and he gave a soft chuckle. “I think I can live with that,” he confirmed, and Richard grinned before leaning down to finally kiss him. Perfect, just as he had imagined it would be.
When Richard had first seen Thomas standing at the door of a pub, beneath the glow of the moon, he’d had his attention captured immediately. He’d never seen someone whose skin looked so right with the moonlight reflecting off it, even with a shadow cast across his face from the hat he’d worn. But meeting him that night, even if they’d met because Richard had a case to solve, so far seemed to have changed his life for the better. They clicked well as partners, just as he’d told Mary, and Richard suspected that sort of click would spread through to other things as well. At the very least, it was something to explore, and with any luck…
Maybe they’d find a bit of the best kind of trouble along the way.