Work Text:
“Miss Scarlet, a moment, please.”
She is halfway out the door, a potential new lead for the case beckoning her feet to move quicker, her mind to sprint several steps ahead. The answer is close, so close she can almost taste it.
But that all grinds to a halt when the Inspector’s voice loops around her waist, effectively anchoring her in place.
Detective Willows, who has been here less than a fortnight but has already become well versed in the complex relationship between his superior and the Lady Detective, gives her a sideways look with raised eyebrows and just for good measure, shoots her a someone is in trouble grin. Eliza rolls her eyes at the upstart young officer that she has become absurdly fond of in what has to be a record-breaking amount of time. She still misses Oliver dearly, but his replacement could not have been better cast.
She bites her lip, grimacing slightly as she turns slowly on the ball of her foot to face the Inspector. He is still sitting at his desk, ostensibly reading through Willow’s report on the investigation, but his shoulders are a little too stiff and his eyes a little too still.
Eliza takes a few steps toward her chair in front of his desk, the click of her heels against the floor almost deafening in the silence.
“Shut the door on your way out, Willows.”
“Yes, sir.” The young detective nods his head in deference and backs out of the room, softly closing the door behind him.
It’s just the two of them now, but Alexander still hasn’t looked up from the report yet. Eliza rolls her eyes again, this time at his dramatics. His silent technique may be effective against unsuspecting criminals but not against the likes of her!
She leisurely makes her way towards her chair before plopping down into it with a dramatic sigh, as though he were the one keeping her from valuable investigative time. Mostly because he is, in fact…
“Ivy doesn’t know yet.”
His rapid-fire words startle her from her mental rant, and she blinks. She turns to face him, only to find his stormy blue eyes fixed intently on her, and she has to resist the sudden urge to squirm.
All she manages is a rather inelegant, “Ah.” Right, whoops.
When she doesn’t expound, Alexander shifts in his chair irritably. “I almost informed her myself by accident this morning. She was remarking that she hadn’t seen you quite so happy in years, and I almost agreed before I realized she thought it was because of the case we were working together.”
“Right, well…” she trails off, biting her lip under Alexander’s intense scrutiny. It is rather inexcusable, it would seem, but then again… “We have been extremely busy with the case.”
Alexander cocks his head slightly and pins her with a look that says she won’t be let off the hook that easily. “You live with her, and I know there have been several occasions since where I haven’t kept you away all night.”
His eyes darken and dance across her face, before flickering lower, and Eliza takes an unsteady breath, her mouth parting slightly. She can feel his gaze tracing over her lips like it’s one of his warm, talented fingers, the calluses gently catching on soft skin.
“Not that I haven’t been tempted.” He murmurs, his voice distant, his eyes a bit hazy.
Now, it is Eliza’s turn to shift in her seat as a flush stains her cheeks and neck. She glances around the room nervously, her eyes darting to the door she knows is still firmly shut. She leans slightly forward, and he tracks her movements like a hunter would its prey. “Alexander!” She hisses. “Are you sure you want to discuss this here?”
“Hmm, no.” He hums, leaning back in his chair, tapping the armrest restlessly with the tip of his finger. “Normally, I prefer to keep my private life separate from work, but that was before I realized that I would be required to compete with casework for your attention. Here seemed like the best place to do that.”
“We have spent quite a lot of time together this week!” Eliza blusters. “Even if most of it wasn’t exactly spent speaking…”
A grin curls the corner of his lips that is so satisfied, it’s almost sinful. “Perhaps you are right. That does seem to be an extremely effective method of negotiating with you.”
He pushes away from the desk, standing suddenly, and circling around to settle on the edge of it next to her chair. Eliza’s mouth falls open. “Alexander, I simply meant…”
His hand cups her jaw, one of his long fingers curling around her cheek to press into the soft hollow below her ear, and he tips her face upward towards his. Eliza’s breathing stutters, and she abandons her attempt at forming words altogether. Alexander inches closer until she can feel his breath fan across her face and the tip of his nose nudges her own. Her eyes fall closed of their own volition.
“Why haven’t you told Ivy yet?” His words are a pin drop in a silent room.
Reluctantly, her eyes crack open. There is hardly any space between them now, but for some reason Alexander has stopped moving, suspending them in this sweet but torturous form of waiting. And Eliza has never been one for patience. So, she reaches for him, her hands fisting the starched white cotton covering his biceps. But when she tries to lean closer, he pulls back at the same rate. When Eliza stops, he stops, leaving the exact same cavernous distance separating them.
Eliza tries again, but history just repeats itself. She growls quietly in frustration, and Alexander has the audacity to chuckle softly.
“Why?” She demands.
“Why, indeed.” He agrees, nudging her nose again with his own. “She would want to know.”
“Yes, I know,” Eliza harrumphs impatiently. “That’s not it.”
He is quiet for a moment, studying her as though her expression were another mystery to solve. From this distance, she can trace the darker blue starburst radiating from his pupil as it dilates further, consuming more of his limpid blue iris into a wanting black. “You are worried that telling her would make it real.” He surmises after a relative eternity.
“What?” This close, he cannot disguise the hurt in his eyes. And that is the last thing she ever wants to be responsible for. “No, Alexander! I assure you, that is not the reason. I very much want this to be real.”
So, he waits, not pulling away but also not coming any closer. Eliza sighs and squeezes her eyes shut. If she is going to drag her shameful fears into the light, kicking and screaming, then she can’t do it when he is looking at her like that.
“I am afraid that it will change everything.”
Alexander releases the breath he was holding. “Some things will change,” he says gently.
“Yes, I know that but…” She chews on her lip again, a bad habit years in the making. He pulls it free with the pad of his thumb, and she sighs again. “We have such a good thing going here. We work well together… Ivy, Clarence, Moses, Willows, even Phelps! You and I, we have finally earned their trust and respect, and we — us — this will change it all.”
“Things will be different but that will not change. They will not think any less of either of us or treat you any differently.”
“You can’t know that!” Eliza groans.
“Perhaps not,” he concedes with a small smile. “But they are your friends.”
“Some more reluctant than others,” Eliza grumbles.
“Perhaps,” Alexander chuckles, “But only because they are just as stubborn as you.”
She glowers at him, but there is no heat in the gesture. He smirks and presses his lips to the corner of hers. She whines in protest when he pulls away again.
“Now, shall we tell her tonight? Together?”
Eliza finds herself nodding. She is still anxious; that is, perhaps, unavoidable, but she knows they’ll be alright as long as they are together. “Yes. Tonight.”
Alexander nods, satisfied. “Good.” Then without warning, his lips are covering hers.
She quietly groans into the kiss, releasing his biceps in favor of burying one hand into his soft auburn curls and grasping his hand with the other. The kiss is sweet with longing at first, but it only takes a few moments for Eliza to deepen it, parting her lips and darting her tongue out to taste his. Alexander groans deeply in his chest and pulls her impossibly closer. Eliza can’t help but smile against his lips because he likes it, she knows he does because this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. Not even the first time in this office, though they try to behave while at the Yard.
It’s a heady privilege, one she never thought she’d have, discovering all the hidden corners, all the cracks and facets of Alexander Blake.
She almost doesn’t notice, she’ll give him that. She is too focused on the sensation of his warm tongue caressing her bottom lip and the gentle nip that follows to pay attention to his hand. But those dexterous fingers do eventually capture her attention when they tangle with her own, not in a blind passion but with intent.
He has robbed her before she can protest.
She pulls away, gasping for air, but he just directs his attention to her jaw, pressing kisses along it and down her throat. “Alexander!” She admonishes, breathlessly, but he just curls his fingers around his pilfered treasure before tucking it into his waistcoat.
“You will get it back,” he assures her, words whispered against her skin. He presses one final long and drugging kiss to her neck, causing her to gasp and squirm before he pulls away.
His stormy eyes level with hers, and this is always her favorite way to see Alexander, his normally impeccable facade undone by her own hands. His hair is a little mussed, strands sticking up in too many directions for it to be deliberate, and his lips are a deeper shade of bee-stung scarlet.
Her eyes dart down to her pale hands, now free from any glint of gold. She knows her mother’s wedding ring is safe, tucked away in Alexander’s pocket, but it’s a strange feeling to not have the comfort of it around her finger.
“In the meantime, I believe there is another ring for you to wear.”
Eliza flushes as she remembers Alexander kneeling before her, unmistakable joy and tears in his eyes, sliding a gold and diamond band onto her finger. The same ring that has been waiting for her at home, squirreled away in her jewelry box.
“Perhaps I want to see you on your knees again first.” Eliza teases.
Alexander’s eyes darken into endless pools of want. “Soon, my dear Eliza,” he vows and her cheeks warm to an even more brilliant shade. “But I’ll have both rings on your hand first.”
That evening they break out the champagne, she and Alexander and Ivy and Mr. Potts (Barnabas, Ivy reminds her yet again) and Sophia, with a glass of sparkling cider.
Alexander holds her close, and she lays her head and hand on his chest, a brilliant diamond sparkling in the glow of the candles.
Things change. Others don’t. But they’ll face whatever comes next.
Together.