Chapter Text
Ian wouldn't have remembered there was anything culturally significant happening if it hadn't been for Alex's complaints about how insufferable Tom was now that he had a girlfriend. The boy was not half as upset as he made it sound, and Jack stirred the breakfast chat towards the unfair fact that the so-called holiday should be paid time off—so that ones could pay attention to their partner or partners, and others could rest from the pink-tinted, heart-patterned madness going on around them.
Ian half-smiled through their exchange of jokes. He couldn't say much, but no one expected him to. No one had questioned his single status since Alex was eight.
The work was a delight, as always. Blunt was late—something with the car—and already mad when he finally came in, making everyone hastily pretend they weren't drinking coffee and chatting instead of tending to their researches and reports.
Ian did his best to look like the wall behind him, and didn't look up once as Blunt asked them questions to see if anyone had too much free time on their hands. His computer was already started; he unlocked the top drawer where he kept a notebook he used to figure out low-priority tasks—
And blinked.
It was there, along with his favourite pen and other neatly accessories, except he didn't recall leaving a sticky note on top of it. It was plain white, and it read n a handwriting that would look similar to his own to anyone else, Tonight?
Ian took the notebook out with a steady hand, opened it like there was nothing unusual about it, and flipped to the last bunch of notes with a sign. The same was going on around him, everybody more or less unhappy about another load of paperwork. Not that they'd rather chase international terrorists through the winter-chilled streets, but— One way to put it would be, everybody was already looking forward to lunchtime.
Ian was no exception—he was already noting he should make a call during that time. Privately, though, the call had nothing to do with work, and his sigh was quite happy, anticipation already bubbling in him like sparkling wine.
He had no idea what was going to happen, but knowing Yassen, it was going to be worth every moment of waiting.