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Another day of keeping tabs on River Cartwright, another dollar. She looked at the clock - two hours to go until the weekend and she was counting the minutes.
Despite her supposed banishment to Slough House, she still kept in contact with a few of her friends from training days who were in good standing at the Park, so she had a decent idea of the real work that she was missing out on. Samira, who’d gone through training with her and was her closest friend at the Park, was on a new file to foil a suspected plan by the IRGC targeting a British-Iranian newscaster. She had explained over coffee yesterday that they were already getting close to figuring out who the Iranian agent's handler was. Lucy, with her newly minted master’s in modern Arabic funded by the Park, had perfected a truly grating level of false modesty about her assignment to signals intelligence, monitoring online extremism. “I just stare at a computer screen all day! They’ll probably replace me with an algorithm eventually.”
Meanwhile, Sid's latest investigative relevation had occurred last week, when Roddy Ho had tripped and fallen down a full flight of stairs. It turned out that when Cartwright smiled - truly smiled, unbidden and genuine - he had dimples. She hadn't guessed. She also hadn't included it in her report to Second Desk. Just like she hadn't reported when she noticed the mole on his upper lip. Or the run of days when he had gotten lazy about shaving and the colour of his beard made her realize that he was as much ginger as blond, really.
She wanted to have something of use to report because she wanted to be useful. And she was aware that part of career advancement was also being seen to be useful. But the truth was, nothing ever happened at Slough House. And in the absence of substance, she was left with the minutiae.
She picked up her phone, hiding it behind a stack of crumbling files from the archives that she was supposed to be cross-referencing against historical defaults on council tax payments. She wasn't sure why she was making even a token effort to hide the fact that she wasn't doing her assigned work. Certainly, none of her coworkers were overly concerned with productivity. She would probably be more convincing as a fellow exile if she had her phone out in the open, feet up on her desk.
At least tonight she had something to look forward to. One of Anna's house parties. And a second date with someone new. It could be fun, she thought. Life on the dating apps was dire, she was discovering. But she'd had a nice coffee date last week. He was good looking - tall and fair. And the banter had been good so far. Maybe it really was time to get back out there.
"Still on for tonight?" She texted.
"Sure thing. 😉"
She was about to text "great, see you there" when another message popped up, a photo this time. She immediately sent a quick reply calling it off.
Was this the Slough House effect? That once you heaved open that door and walked through it, everything in your life became cursed?
"Ughhhhh." She let the phone slip out of her hand, landing with a muffled plop on the musty stack of files.
"Everything alright over there?" River inquired without turning away from his game of Minesweeper.
"What are you doing tonight?" That got his attention. He swiveled his chair to half face her.
"Why?"
"I'm going to a party. I'm supposed to be bringing someone but my Tinder date fell through."
"He cancelled on you?"
"He disqualified himself."
"What does that mean?" She brought up the not yet deleted close up photo of a - inexplicably - flaccid penis and held up her phone, arm outstretched toward River's desk. He immediately turned away, holding his hand up.
"Augh. Sorry I asked."
"So now I don't have anyone to go with me."
"And you don't want your friends to know how sad you really are?"
"I thought maybe you could relate. But I guess that would assume you have friends."
"Ouch. You're not really selling me on this." He narrowed his eyes. "Is this why you're in Slough House? You got kicked out of recruiting?"
"Haha," she retorted without humour. "The truth is, my boyfriend and I broke up and
I'm getting sick of the pitying looks and attempts to set me up."
He raised an eyebrow. "What's in for me?"
"Hmm, very mercenary. Other than the pleasure of my company?"
"I get that five days a week already."
"I'll bring you real coffee for a week instead of the toxic sludge you drink from that dump down the street." He considered for a moment.
"Deal."
"Okay, meet me there at 8:00. Give me your number and I'll text you the address."
—-
She put on a two piece set. Wide leg trousers and a sleeveless cropped top in an abstract print. Did her make-up. Looked in the mirror. No. River didn't know this person. It was too strange. She took it all off and put on a basic black dress with buttons down the front. Hair up in a ponytail. Mascara only. There she was, Slough House Sid. Except that wasn't what she wore to a late summer party. The whole point of bringing River along was to prove how resolutely undepressed she was. Dress off, hair down, co-ord set back on. Add some lip gloss. Try to fix her curls that had been mangled by the hair tie. Fuck, she was ridiculous. She grabbed her handbag and headed for the Tube.
It was unseasonably hot and her hair was sticking to the back of her neck by the time she surfaced at street level. He was already there when she turned the corner to Anna's place. She saw the moment that he noticed her approaching and then the moment a second later when he noticed it was her and schooled his expression. He was, inevitably, wearing a knit polo and a pair of khakis. Both the shirt and the pants were a lighter colour than the version he'd had on at the office earlier. Presumably, that was what qualified them as River's version of glad rags. His hair was darker than usual, still damp from the shower.
"Hey."
"Hey." She suppressed the urge to give a little wave in greeting.
"What do I need to know?"
"Not much. My last relationship ended recently. Most of my friends know me from school or uni so don't bother trying to act like you know me as well as they do. They all know my ex. I know you from work. I - we - work for the Department of Business and Trade. I'm in safety standards. We just started seeing each other. Use your real name."
"Okay, easy."
"Let's go."
—-
Anna found her and enveloped her in a hug almost as soon as they walked in. When
they pulled back, she took in the presence of River, standing slightly behind Sid.
“Ooh, you brought someone!”
"I said I was."
"Oh, I know, but lately you've been so....” She waved her hand vaguely. “You've cancelled a lot of plans. Anyway, you're here! And so is..."
"River."
"River!" Anna leaned in and graced him with an airy kiss on the cheek, which he clearly was not expecting. "Welcome!" She turned to Sid. “Sid, you didn’t tell me that your date was the bloke from work.”
“Oh, she’s mentioned me?”
“I told her how you steal all my pens and then chew the ends.”
“Ignore her.” Anna put a reassuring hand on his arm and ushered them further inside. “All good things, obviously.”
The flat was already humid from the accumulation of bodies in a small space. They'd spent some time circulating, saying hellos and getting drinks. River had eventually been drawn into a group conversation that was somehow about both football and Lord of the Rings, and he seemed to be holding his own on both fronts so she'd left him to it to go sit with some of the girls. Her glass was refilled as soon as her backside hit the sofa cushion.
"You need to catch up!"
There were several empty wine bottles on the coffee table already and the mood was loose. She gladly let herself be hugged and tutted over and lovingly admonished for what a ghost she’d been lately. A few weeks ago the idea of excavating herself from under her duvet to go be in the presence of actual living people, who might want her attention or energy, had seemed like torture. And worse, she’d been jumping at shadows, scared that someone might mention her ex’s name without warning. Especially worried that it would occur at an inopportune time and shatter the peace of one of those three minute long periods when she’d managed to temporarily blank out his existence instead of wondering where it all went wrong, exactly. (Through extensive forensic analysis, she’d triangulated the beginning of the end to somewhere between her one year anniversary as a permanent employee with the “Department of Business and Trade” and the opening night of his First Big Gallery Show. Not that it mattered now.)
But tonight, it actually felt good again to be in the presence of humans. Of friends, who knew her, and accepted her as she was, more or less. She knew that she could have been crying on their shoulders the whole time and they would have accepted that too. But it felt better to come back to the group now that she was starting to actually feel back to herself as well.
She kept half an eye on River across the room, aware that she probably shouldn’t abandon him entirely, given he was only here on her account. She’d had him pegged as an introvert but somewhere between the pavement and the top of the stairs it seemed he'd flipped a little switch somewhere inside himself. He didn't seem to be talking any more than usual but there was something subtle about the way he carried himself that seemed more confident, more open. Maybe it was something about being on an op, of sorts, no matter how profoundly inconsequential. Maybe it was just a relief to spend an evening as River Cartwright, handsomest man in the Department of Business and Trade's Safety Standards Division, instead of River Cartwright, the pillock who crashed Stanstead.
Julia, who was sitting next to her, followed her gaze over to the group where River was standing.
"Is that your date? Well done, Sidonie."
The currents of the party had rearranged the group’s composition and it was mixed company now. A blonde in a tiny skirt had taken the place of one of the boys next to River. She leaned in close to him, as if entranced by whatever he was on about, and ran a hand over his bicep.
"You'd better go get your man."
"I don't know if I'd say he's my man." The girl tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed. "He's also not that funny," she muttered.
“Up to you. But you know that girl is a kleptomaniac.” She sighed, but got up and walked over in way that she hoped projected casual rather than threatened and territorial.
“Lily. I see that you’ve met River.”
Lily dragged her attention away from River for a second to greet Sid in a theatrical proximation of female friendship. “Oh my God, Sid, how are you!?
“Great. You?”
"Oh, same. It's so great that you're here. We've barely seen you since things ended with you two."
“Mmmhmm. Well, you have to start moving on eventually.”
"It's just SUCH a shame, you were so good together."
"Okay, I'm actually here on a date." She gestured towards River, who seemed unphased.
"It's just hard to accept. You were *the* couple, you know?"
She must have been frowning because River put his arm around her, consolingly. Then he brushed a lock of her hair aside and whispered low in her ear.
"Don't worry about him. I can fuck you better than he did." For a second she wasn’t sure she’d processed that right. She could feel a blush spreading hot across her cheeks at the unexpected intimacy.
Anna stepped in and saved her, as she always did. "So you two know each other from work, right? What drew you together?"
A cocky grin spread across his face. "I have a big..."
"Ego", she cut him off.
The girls giggled. Traitors.
"Well, I was going to say office," He explained casually, but he was smirking. "So they put her desk in with me. Austerity, you know."
“So you’re in Safety Standards with Sid?” Julia asked. “Is it as horribly dull as she makes it out to be?”
“It’s not always glamorous. But I feel like I’m doing my part to keep Britain safe. I get a lot of satisfaction out of that.” She looked up at him to give him the evil eye and found him smiling, dimples in full effect.
"I'm just going to borrow River for a minute, if you all don't mind."
Anna waggled her eyebrows and just laughed when Sid mouthed "STOP" at her.
She led him down the hall, where it was a bit quieter, and pulled him into the first bedroom. Blessedly, it was empty. She shut the door behind them.
“What are you doing?”
“Having fun.”
“Too much fun.”
“It's a party. You should have a little more fun.”
“Could you take it down a notch? You’re going to blow this if you keep it up.” He fixed her with a sullen look that was familiar from the office and unfamiliar in that it was directed at her.
"Look, believe it or not, I'm actually good at creating a cover. I whispered in your ear and you flushed and looked all flustered and now everyone who was paying attention thinks you can't even remember the last guy's name because you're so swept up in whatever we're doing together. That's what you want, right? For everyone to think you've moved on?"
"So you're not just trying to wind me up?"
"Well. Not just."
"I also don't want my friends to think I'd date a complete prick."
"I'm supposed to be the rebound guy, right? You don't choose a rebound based on whether your mum will like them. You don't even have to like them. It's just about sex."
"Hmm."
"Also, for the record, your friends seem to like me. Relax. If anyone raises an eyebrow, just explain that you lost your head and had a fling but now you're back to dating accountants or whatever it is you're into."
"Accountants?" He grinned and shrugged.
"I don't judge." He did, clearly, but she let it go. “I need the loo. You alright by yourself for a minute?”
“Yeah, fine, they’re my friends, after all. Come find me when you’re done.”
Anna looked down her nose at her disapprovingly upon her return, despite the fact that she was two inches shorter than Sid.
"That didn't take long."
“We were just having a word. How long should it have taken?”
“More than five minutes, hopefully!”
“We haven’t made it that far yet. We were actually just talking.”
“Disappointing. What are you waiting for?”
“It’s only our second date. We work together, I don’t want to screw things up by moving too fast.”
“Baker, you know I love you, but you’re such a bore sometimes. I've seen the way he looks at you. Let that man take your mind off things. Take my room. You need this.”
“I don't know.”
“Go on, have a bit of fun for once.”
“I'm only just getting to know him," she prevaricated weakly.
“Sid.” Anna grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly. “He's delicious. Go shag him. Or I will.”
When River came back, she pulled him away for a conspicuously private chat. She positioned herself close enough so that only he could hear her, which required her to look up at him.
“My friend told me that I'm uptight and I need to get over myself and shag you or she will.” He refrained from saying I told you so but his grin did the talking for him.
“Which friend? The tall brunette? She's fit.”
“The curvy blonde.”
“She's alright too.”
“You're the worst.”
“Bit harsh”, he complained mildly. “We'd best get to it before your friends start to doubt our insane chemistry.”
“Well, wait, I”
“Breathe. I wasn’t suggesting that we start going at it right here.”
“Right. No.”
“Just… why am I here? You didn’t have to invite me out tonight.”
“I couldn’t stand to think of you drinking warm cans of Carlsberg alone in your bedsit or whatever you do at the weekend and I decided to take pity?”
“So you’re saying you think about me… that’s sweet.”
“Of course, now I’m regretting it.”
“Come off it.”
“Alright, okay.” She held her hands up. “I invited you out to help me dazzle everyone I know with how incredibly happy and moved on I am already.”
“So - crazy idea - maybe try acting happy?” He leaned his forearm on the wall next to her and fixed her with an uncomfortably searching look. She resisted the urge to squirm.
“Yeah. Alright. Fair Point.” She put some adoration into her gaze and a hand on his chest. He leaned in a fraction. To anyone watching, he appeared to be eating it up.
"Should I look like I'm falling in love with you or is a first date too soon for that?"
"This is our second date, actually. I forgot to mention that."
"Oh, really? I'm sorry I missed the first one. Have we slept together yet?"
"No, everyone knows that's the third date."
"Okay, but how many weeks have you been sneaking glances at me across the office while I toil heroically on the latest safety standards updates?"
"More like you kept sniffing around my desk like a sad puppy looking for a pat and you finally wore me down."
"Oh, is that how it happened?"
"Definitely."
He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound right. No one’s going to believe that.”
“No?”
“Nuh uh. Pretty sure you just couldn’t fight it any more.” She slipped two fingers through his belt loop and tugged lightly. His eyes flashed. “See, a bit of effort and you’ve got me half convinced already.”
She had to admit that he was right, this was kind of fun, because Sid loved winning.
He moved a curl out of her face and twined it around his finger before tucking it tenderly behind her ear. And she began to realize that River Cartwright hated losing.
They pushed farther as the night went on, each of them trying to see who’d blink first. She played with his collar. He touched the side of her neck, casual, sending electricity pinging down her spine, like he had no idea the effect it had on her. She threaded his fingers through hers, then let them fall away and gloated internally when he held on just a second too long. She utterly failed to convince him to dance with her but made him laugh in the process. He put his hand on her hip about a millimetre away from incontrovertibly touching her ass. In real life, none of this could have happened, but there was a freedom in the fact that it was all an act. When was the last time that she did something a bit reckless and unconsidered? She couldn’t remember. Even her internet browsing history was strictly self-policed since she joined the Service.
Someone came back from the corner shop with a box of ice lollies along with their bag of cans and she snagged one, making a whole ridiculous show of it, licking it bottom to tip to catch the already melting drip. It was so cliched she thought maybe he’d finally break character, but instead he was leaned back, watching her with open interest. Cartwright would have laughed or rolled his eyes, she thought, but this was a different persona. Or maybe just a different side of River. She wasn’t sure. She considered that there may, possibly, be some mission creep happening. She licked her sticky fingers. Did she imagine it, or did he just lick his lips?
“I’m going to wash my hands.” He just nods.
When she returned, more bodies had added themselves to the group on the sofa and there wasn’t enough room to squish herself in next to him again. She hesitated until he gave her a little wave over and she perched on his lap. He took her hand in his and traced idle patterns on her palm with his thumb, making her whole body sing like tuned crystal. It felt like a long time since anyone had touched her.
She was starting to think that instead of hiding alone under her duvet the last while, she should have forced herself to get out and put herself under someone's body instead.
"You're squirming." He let go of her hand and put his hands on her hips, settling her more firmly into his lap.
If they were alone, she could lean her head back against his shoulder and his hands would have full access to her body like this. The dress would have been a better choice after all because then he could have just run his hand up her thigh and
"Hmm, what?"
Julia clicked her fingers in front of her face.
"Don't freak out but you should know that he's here."
"He's here?" She repeated, uncomprehending.
"Tom." She tensed and River let go of her hips.
"What? Anna said he wasn't coming."
Julia shrugged. "He's here. I just didn't want you to be caught off guard." She pointed with her chin to a spot nearby where a few men were welcoming another with grins and one-armed hugs. "I guess he's back from the dead too."
She instinctively recognized the form before she saw his face. Then her conscious mind clicked in, checking off the details: brown hair curling over his collar, copper ring on his right hand, the familiar rumble of his voice as he greeted their friends.
She stood up abruptly, pulling River after her. Maybe she could leave now before he saw her. He was between her and the door but she could get River to create a distraction. Drop his drink maybe. Yes, that would work.
Before she could action her plan, Tom turned and caught her in his peripheral vision. He clapped his interlocutor on the shoulder and closed the gap to where she was standing by the coffee table. Her stomach tied itself in knots, which was stupid.
“Sid! I wasn't sure if you were going to be here.”
“Tom. I was told you wouldn't be.”
"Yeah, well, Iain convinced me to come out. And I was hoping to see you. You wouldn't return my calls."
"After what happened? Obviously I didn't." River draped an arm protectively over her and pulled her close to him, her back to his chest. He took a nonchalant sip of his beer with his other hand. Tom took in the scene while River stared him down coolly.
“Who's this, Sid?” River asked.
“This is Tom. An old friend.”
River hummed but made no move to introduce himself.
After a beat, Tom took the initiative. “Nice to meet you. And you are?”
“River.”
“Ahh.” A quiet dark laugh escaped him. “River.”
“Sorry mate, do I know you?”
“Nah. I've heard your name though.”
“Oh yeah?” The transition in the tone of River’s voice from surprised to smug was lightning quick. “Never heard yours.” She could see Tom revving up to say something - to River or to her, she wasn’t sure. "Okay, great to meet you, Tom." River turned her away, as if Tom had now ceased to exist. "Let's get you a refill."
She let herself be tugged lightly by the hand in the direction of the kitchen but not before she saw Tom give his head a shake. Well, he had it coming.
"You okay?"
"Fine."
River searched her face. "Okay, if you say so." He took her hand and intertwined their fingers. "She's watching. Anna. Be a pro."
She took a peripheral glance to confirm and then looked up at him through her lashes and nodded. "Kiss me." His eyebrows shot up.
“Really?”
“If Anna sees it, everyone will know it happened.”
She pulled back enough to look him in the eye. “You can't tell anyone at work about this.”
“What's there to tell?”
“Right.” She nodded. “Okay, kiss me.”
He did, without hesitation, as if he'd been waiting for the opportunity all night. He started slow and sweet. Respectful. He took her by the waist and gently pulled her to him. He bit her lip lightly as he pulled back and then kissed her again, deeper this time, more urgent. At first all she could taste was the hoppy beer he’d been drinking all night but after a minute it was just him.
He backed her up against the fridge, where, she realized, everyone in the living room could see them.
Her lips parted and for a second they were just breathing each other's air. This time she kissed him. He swept his tongue langorously along hers and she felt her insides flip. When she'd asked River to do this thing she hadn't been thinking about his warm hands on the bare skin of her waist and his tongue in her mouth. But now there they were and she felt like her blood had been replaced with champagne, fizzing and sweet. When he finally pulled back, she realized her hands were fisted in the front of his shirt and forced herself to relax her grip. He ran his tongue over his lower lip.
"Now they're all watching."
“Follow me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Bedroom.” She turned and started moving without waiting to see if he’d follow.
When she looked back, she noted a hint of swagger in his walk that she'd never seen before.
He'd taken a step back after the door closed but he was still close enough that she could feel the heat of his body. The thought crossed her mind that he'd be like a furnace in bed at night and she did her best to banish that line of thinking immediately.
“Okay, so now what? Do you want to jump on the bed for a few minutes to add some realism?”
“Yeah, sure.” She laughed. “Or.” He cocked his head. Don’t say it, she commanded herself as she wondered at the same time whether everything else with him would be as good as that kiss. “Or we could actually....”
“Actually... oh. You mean…” his eyes flicked to the bed and back to her.
“Yeah. I thought.” She'd thought she knew the way he looked at her sometimes and what that meant. Her body had been telling her all night that she was right, it was true. But there was always a chance she'd got it wrong. He’d said it himself, he was good at undercover. God, that would be embarrassing. Forget Slough House, she’d have to banish herself to Antarctica. “But if you don't want to. I mean, we don't have to, obviously.”
“No, no, I want to”, he hurriedly confirmed. “It's just... you only just broke up with that guy.” He furrowed his brow. “Or did he break up with you?” She narrowed her eyes.
“Right, no, doesn't matter.”
“It doesn't have to mean anything, right? Like you said, just a rebound.”
“Right," he agreed easily.
Neither of them moved. The bass of the music and the rumble of conversation from the other side of the wall was dampened and fuzzy. It was quieter here, with the door closed, and she could feel the silence start to seep between them.
"You seemed more confident about this when you were whispering in my ear earlier."
She’d expected a smart remark in return to cut the tension but she’d miscalculated. He lifted his chin and stepped back toward her, invading her personal space, herding her up against the door. He loomed over her, hands on either side of her head, breath hot on her face.
Interrogation techniques practicum day 4, she thought. Establish dominance, overwhelm the subject, make them feel like the only way out is through you. She’s been taught how to resist, of course. She’s been hooded and disoriented, kept awake for over 48 hours straight, humiliated, denied food and water, and she never said a word other than her code name. All of those tests though, never involved the scent of River Cartwright’s fresh sweat mingled with his woodsy cologne. It never involved his eyes, marine blue in the low light, locked with hers. It’s an oversight, she realizes now, that they’re never actually trained to resist a honey trap. But of course, the truth was that all the training in the world is useless if you want to betray yourself.
This time there was no starting slow. They picked up right where they’d left off in the kitchen. His tongue was back in her mouth, teasing and exploring. She had her hands under his shirt, tracing the broad planes of his back. His hand was tangled in her hair. She was practically panting already, rubbing her herself in small circles on his leg between hers. She forced herself to break the kiss before she was completely beyond rational thought.
“Do you have a condom?”
“No. I wasn't expecting…” he gestured between them.
“Right. No. Okay, check the drawers.” There was frantic rummaging on both sides of the bedroom as she fumbled through the bedside tables and he ransacked the chest of drawers.
"Found them!" He held up a small box in triumph, several t-shirts and pairs of underpants that he’d tipped out of the drawer strewn around his feet.
"Yes! Wait. Check the expiry. Anna and Ben have been together for ages."
River checked the fine print. "Fuck." He tossed the packet away and flopped back on the bed next to her. He sat up, elbows on his knees and looked up at her through his fringe. "Could you go ask around?"
"What, me?"
"Well, I'm hardly going to go out there and ask Tom and his best mate Iain, am I?" He pulled her into his arms, dragged his lips up her neck and kissed just below her ear. "Or we could just...."
"No." She shook her head.
"No. Okay." He sighed but didn't move away.
This was a sign from the universe. She'd been given a clear-cut chance to rethink this whole thing and say something sensible like "maybe this isn't such a good idea after all". She could draw a line under it right now and maintain the status quo, more or less. She could plausibly write off everything that had happened so far this evening as a mistake fueled by loneliness and one drink too many. Instead she said "There's a corner shop a few doors down."
"I'll be right back. Don't move." He made a stay put gesture to emphasize his point and then swiftly departed.
When Taverner had instructed her to keep a close eye on Cartwright, Sid reflected, she probably hadn't meant quite this close. She’d spent the whole evening acting like someone whose biggest job-related consequences for fraternizing with a colleague was a bit of a talking to from HR. On the one hand, it was ludicrous and paranoid to think that Taverner would ever get wind of any of this whatsoever. But on the other hand, the Park knew what the Park wanted to know. That was kind of the whole gig.
Then there was the fact that this was probably unethical. Definitely unethical. He didn't know that she was conducting surveillance on him. She’d read an article once in The Guardian about this kind of thing and the Met and it was a whole scandal. But it wasn't as if she was lying about who she was. He knew her real name. He knew that she worked for Five. He knew that she liked her tea milky even though Standish thought it was blasphemy. And now he knew how her breath got ragged when a man kissed her until she could feel herself getting wet. That all had to count for something, surely.
She wished she'd worn better underwear.
River, for his part, strode back into the room a few minutes later with the air of a man not overly burdened by sober second thought and held up a small box. “Right, where were we?”
Her bra, tossed aside after his shirt, almost takes out the delicate looking bedside lamp but she’s too busy working on his belt buckle to care. He was fitter than she'd expected. Clearly, he hadn't given up on physical training just because he'd been chained to a desk.
He tugged at her trousers, which remained firmly in place, then fumbled at the waistband.
"Fuck, how do I get these off?"
"There's a zipper on the side. Here." The zip was small and fiddly and he tugged at it ineffectually.
"Take them off." She did, wiggling out of them and he immediately followed by practically ripping her knickers off.
He kissed up her inner thigh and the friction of his stubble sent sparks dancing in her belly. He paused at the top, breathing in her scent. A firm hand on each thigh spread her wider and then he buried his face in her cunt. He licked up through her folds and she grasped the sheets tightly, like she was afraid of falling. When he turned his attention to her clit, she let go and dug her hands into his hair instead.
"Mmm. Lower. Yeah, and... yeah."
"Like that?"
"Unh. Do the thing again." He looked up, eyes questioning, without taking his mouth away. "No, the other... Yes, just like that. Yeah, yeah, yeah." She could feel her thighs quivering. He pulled back for just long enough to slide a finger into her and then his tongue was back on her clit as he fingered her. He had nice hands. This felt like a moment when she could finally admit to herself that she'd noticed. She tilted her hips up, moving against his hand, looking for more. One finger was replaced by two and soon the wave she had been riding finally crested and crashed. For several moments she felt like she was under water, breathless. She resurfaced as River put his fingers in his mouth and sucked them clean, destroying in a moment what she now realized was the somewhat naive fantasy that after tonight she was never going to think of this again.
He crawled up the bed and kissed her again. His was face wet with her arousal and she could taste herself musky and sweet in his mouth. His cock was hot and heavy against her thigh.
"Fuck, I need..."
"Yeah. Yes."
She eased him out of his boxer briefs and he kicked then the rest of the way off. He
grabbed a condom from the box on the bedside table and fumbled with the wrapper for a second before tearing it open with his teeth.
It hadn’t really been that long since she’d had sex but when he pushes into her the stretch is so sweet she feels like it’s the first time in almost forever. He sets a rhythm that’s slower than she expected from the way he just practically tore her clothes off. The way he’s fucking her, deliberate and deep, is too much. It’s uncomfortably close to making love. She’s lost track of the rules of the game but that, surely, is a violation. She’s vaguely aware of herself moaning like an animal in heat. She pushes at his shoulder.
“On your back.”
He rolls over without question, bringing her with him so that she’s sitting up, straddling him. She gathers her hair in her hands, sweeping it out of her face, and she watches him watch her. She lets her hair drop - her curls will do whatever they want, anyway - and takes him in hand, lining him up so that she can sink down on him. She sets her hands on his chest. From this position it’s easy to see the emotions play out on his face. She could come again like this, she thinks, his hands on her breasts and his cock grazing her g-spot every time she drops down on it. It doesn’t take long until she can tell that he’s getting close. He grabs her hips and meets her thrusts with his own, fucking up into her, and she’s moaning again, she can hear herself but can’t be bothered to put a lid on it, it’s too good.
“Fuck! Shit.” His face contorts as his hips snap up and she grinds down on him, riding him through it as his movements slow and then stop. He scrubs a hand over his face. She collapses on him, finally, face buried in his neck. “Fuck,” he says again, quieter this time.
She rolls off him, eventually, and he moves away slightly to deal with the condom. She was skeptical that his lazy toss had made it into the wastepaper basket in the corner of the room but they could deal with that later. He settled back down and pulled her close again. She settled with her head on his shoulder and one leg slung over his thigh. He covered the hand that was resting on his chest with her own.
"Well," she half whispered.
"Mmm."
Instead of pursuing that train of thought, she listened while his breathing evened out.
"I guess we should get up," he said eventually. His voice was hazy. "I'm dozing off."
"Right." What was she waiting for? To memorize his face while he slept?
They’re tacky with sweat where her skin has been touching his and there’s a moment of resistance before their bodies separate. She starts searching for her bra and he sits up, brushing his sweat-dampened hair out of his face.
—-
She found Anna on the way out. “Thanks for having us.”
“You don’t need to hurry away. Tom left already.”
“Oh, did he?”
“Said it was a bit too loud for him.”
River quirked his lips. “Shame, we were just getting to know each other.” She stamped on his foot. He made a noise of complaint but the smirk on his face didn't budge.
“It’s late. I’m tired.” She offered up the excuses apologetically.
Anna enveloped her in a hug. “I’m glad you came. Don’t turn into a ghost again, okay? I missed you.”
—-
“This is me.” They had shared a taxi, which was the normal thing to do, but he knew where she lived now, which seemed bad for some reason, although she couldn't exactly formulate why. She leaned in impulsively and kissed him, messy. Then she got out and forced herself not to look back until the door of the cab was closed.
That last kiss was the part she regretted, immediately and when she woke up the next day and again on Monday morning when she stepped out of the shower and looked in the mirror. Nothing different except for three small purple bruises in a line across her hip. Fingerprints. Sloppy. She was never sloppy. Second Desk didn't hand pick sloppy agents for undercover ops, even when the field of operation was Slough House. She was losing her touch.
—-
“Cartwright.” She produced the takeaway cup and set it down on his desk with a little flourish.
“Baker. You didn’t have to, you know.”
“Of course, I did. A deal’s a deal.”
“Right. Thanks.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile and he raised the takeaway cup in a little toast.