#river cartwright x oc

[lilacsnid]

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔, river cartwright

"𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶... 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨."

The name of her father always followed her wherever she went. 

Being the daughter of 'Bad Sam' Chapman came with a reputation she could never escape, even as she tried to forge her own path within the service. It was no different when she found herself assigned to Slough House, the very place that served as a dumping ground for dead-end spies.  Among the washed-up agents and misfits, Tilley Chapman felt like she had something to prove, not just to the service but to herself.

It's when she meets River Cartwright, another cast-off with his own set of frustrations, that Tilley tries not to let her guard down. 

At first, they clash—both too proud and too stubborn to admit their faults. 

Tilley starts to see that River's cynicism masks a deep sense of duty, and River begins to understand that Tilley's not just another burned-out spy—she's someone with the potential to surprise everyone, even herself.

They soon come to realise that maybe they have more in common than they once thought. 

COMING SOON ✔︎

[daydreamgoddess14]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 6

And what if I maybe decided that this isn't actually the last chapter?

Don't ask how my work week is going, I stupidly wrote this instead of the draft report I need to submit on Friday.... Incidentally, the report has a shorter wordcount than this chapter so technically, technically all I need is some actual ooomph to go ahead and write it!

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Masterlist

Tagging: @cillmequick & @thomasshelbyswife

Chapter 6

Weeks had passed since Seren had left. She made her way around the aisle of the supermarket with her new charge, not too fast and not too slow. Heaven forbid she get the speed wrong. 

“That jam there, on the middle shelf.” The elderly woman in the wheelchair said suddenly, pointing vaguely at approximately 80 jars of jam variations.

“This one?”

“No, down.”

“This?”

“No left a bit, the one that looks like cherries.”

“Cherry jam then?”

“No, the one next to it.” Seren resisted the urge to smash every jar on the floor. She held up another jar. “That’s the ticket, love. Now, eggs.”

“You don’t like eggs?” “I want you to make a cake. Coffee and walnut.” Seren hesitated, her last coffee and walnut cake had been demolished in the space of about four hours by David and River.

“How about a vicky sponge instead?” She suggested, scanning the shelves.

“Too sweet. Next to the eggs, there, the walnuts.”

“Coffee and walnut, my favourite.” Another voice chimed in.

“Mine too! She’s refusing to make it though.”

“I’m not refusing, I just-” Seren turned back to the lady, eggs and walnuts in hand. Alongside her stood River.

“Fine Mags, I’ll make coffee and walnut.” She dumped the stuff in the basket on Maggie’s lap. “Excuse me.” She said politely to River and went to push the wheelchair on. “Seren, wait, please?”

“Who’s this young man?” 

“River, nice to meet you.” He shook her hand, Maggie blushed.

“Seren, you told me you were single!”

“I am.”

“I think I’d remember if you’d told me about this fella. He’s very handsome,” she turned to River, “you’re very handsome.”

“That’s because I haven’t told you about him. There’s nothing to tell. This is an old… acquaintance, that’s all.” Maggie’s bark of laughter turned into a hacking cough.

“Old acquaintance. Do I look bloody daft?”

“Come on, we’ve got to get a move on. Senior swim time.” Seren turned the wheelchair away from River and started at speed down the rest of the aisle.

“Bet he’d love to see you in a cossie.”

“Margaret Monroe!” 

“I’m only saying, love. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.” As they rounded the next aisle, Maggie turned in her chair to Seren, “he’s still there.” She whispered loudly enough to be heard by the entirety of the store. “Corrr and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon.” 

“Give it a rest, Mags.” Seren could feel the heat in her cheeks.

“It’s rude to ignore people.” The older woman said sternly.

“It’s a long story. We’ve got to go otherwise you’ll miss swimming.” Maggie raised her hand and waved to River who caught them up easily with no wheelchair to manoeuvre around. 

“How do you know the lovely Seren then?”

“She looked after my grandfather.”

“Oh!” She said brightly, then her face fell a little, “did he die? I’m so sorry.”

“No, no. He’s… fine. He’s his usual self.” River confirmed, noting the relief that crossed Seren’s face.

“Why’d she leave then? Why’d you leave?” Maggie looked back and forth between them.

“I told you, it’s a long story. Do you want to go swimming or not?” Maggie huffed. 

“It was nice to meet you, love. We’re off to the leisure centre for a swim. She keeps telling me it’s good for me.”

“Sounds fun. It was nice to meet you Maggie, see you again.”

“No you won’t.” Seren interrupted.

“Can I call you?” He asked quickly, before the opportunity to ask had disappeared.

“No, please don’t.”

“You should! God knows this girl needs to smile more. Either that or she needs a proper good-”

“I smile loads.” Seren scowled, interrupting quickly to stop Maggie from saying something less appropriate. Maggie rolled her eyes. As she went to push the wheelchair through the checkout, River dropped Seren’s favourite chocolate bar into the basket.

“For after swimming.” He shrugged. “It’s really good to see you. Still wearing my hoodie though?” He smiled faintly. Seren nodded at the unexpected gesture and to her surprise, River was the one to walk away. As Seren watched him leave, Maggie chattered away next to her.

“Well you kept him quiet, what a lovely man Seren! Bet he’d show you a good time,” the older lady sniggered.

“Stop interfering, you old perv.” Seren teased her gently. “I’m going to stop getting you those smutty books from the library.” She threatened.

“Don’t you dare. I deserve to get my thrills from somewhere young lady.” Seren let her talk, her mind drifting to River. He’d done exactly as she’d asked and not contacted her in weeks. A week after the confrontation in the barn, she received a small box with her book, phone charger, chocolate and various other things she’d left behind at David’s house. It had been hand delivered to her house, she hadn’t sent a thank you message. As the weeks had gone on, she found her anger giving way to sadness. She still felt foolish for having trusted both River and David so completely, she began to feel more betrayed than angry. She’d fended off nosey questions from Maggie when she’d first started looking after her, her bruises still visible and her hand still tightly wrapped. She was so easily distracted by a tall flash of dirty blonde hair in the corner of her eye and now, with the unexpected meeting in the supermarket, she found herself wondering if she’d been right all along and he had really been there, she hadn’t imagined it or wished for it. With Maggie safely back at home, Seren poured herself a glass of wine and tried to settle with a book. A light tap at the door stirred her. River.

“I told you not to come here.” “You told me not to call.” She rolled her eyes, holding the door so it was clear he wasn’t going to be welcomed inside.

“I told you I didn’t want to see you again.”

“I know.”

“So? Why are you here?” She looked at him properly for the first time. Stubble longer than normal, a mournful look in his eyes and dark circles underneath. She knew she didn’t look much better, Maggie told her daily how sad her eyes were. Her resolution to not let him in was wavering. With a sigh, she pulled open the door fully. “Come in. 5 minutes, that’s all you get.” He slipped past her gratefully and she could smell the soap and aftershave he used, scents that had long deserted the hoodie she continued to wear.

“I wanted to apologise. Properly, I mean. I didn’t get a chance really that night, or when you came back to get your car. It was… fucked up. You should never have been caught up in it all.”

“You should have told me the truth.”

“How could I?” He asked, desperately. “I had to keep you safe.” 

“Safe?” She scoffed, closing the space between them and moving the neckline of her top to one side, “I still have the bruises!” Barely visible to the naked eye, River could see the faint marks which still littered her neck. Without thinking, he brought his hand up and traced the outline with his finger. He could make out her pulse, her heart pounded, and the movement of her nervous swallow. She took a step back, shaking her head, “don’t touch me.” She pleaded. His hand and his gaze dropped down to her hand where she still had a bandage.

“Still not healed?” He asked, his voice hoarse. He lifted it gently, holding it in both of his hands.

“They had to align the fracture. Two more weeks and I can take this off.” She felt a warm tear drop onto the exposed skin on the palm of her hand and looked up at him. 

“You got hurt because of me-” he started.

“I got hurt because I stupidly thought I could punch a grown man. I was an idiot, trying to protect David - who apparently can handle himself just fine.” 

“No, you were incredible. If you hadn’t been there… I wouldn’t have been there in time. They’d have done it, they’d have killed him.” She knew she should take another step back but the warmth of his body was intoxicating and she was struggling to hold onto her anger. He released her hand and wiped his eyes.

“How is he?”

“Pain in the arse. Hates everyone they send to look after him. He misses you.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t make me the guilty one.”

“I didn’t mean to, sorry. It’s just… he was better with you, I think.”

“He went through a crazy evening, finding out your old workplace wants you dead is a bit mental.”

“I was better with you.”

“River-”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry again.”

“Stop apologising, you’re doing my head in. You look like crap.” She muttered, wrapping her arms around him. 

“Yeah, so grandad keeps telling me.” He let his head drop into the crook of her neck and breathed her in.

“It’s just a hug, that’s all you get then you can fuck off.” She felt him nod against her and the soft huff of his breath on her skin. The proximity and familiarity made her heart flutter. She reluctantly released the hug, for her own sanity. He watched her intently, the conflict in her eyes clearly visible. He brought his hands up to cup her face and she leaned into his touch, a trembling sigh passing her lips as he met her in a soft, uncertain kiss. She pulled away first, placing a hand on his chest to push herself back. “No. No, I’m still so angry, River.” She paced back and forth in front of him. “I feel like such an idiot for trusting you so implicitly.” She told him, the accusatory tone to her voice gave away the anger rising in her again. She backed further away from him. “You should go now. I asked you not to come.” She marched past him and flung the door open wide. “Go now please, I can’t… I need to stop thinking about you, and the only way I can do that is to not be near you.” She trailed off weakly. He paused as he passed her. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you either.” He admitted cautiously. Seren reached for him first, her traitorous body overruling her mind and all sense of reason. She caught the edge of his jacket and pulled him down into a far less hesitant kiss than the previous one. He kicked the front door shut again and pressed her back against the wall. She led him down the short hallway, dropping his jacket and her (his) hoodie along the way. River pulled off the oversized t-shirt she wore, surprised to find nothing underneath and enveloped her in his arms. He walked her backwards through her open bedroom door, both of them tripping on her discarded shorts, his t-shirt. She pulled him with her onto the bed, hissing in pain as she realised she'd used the wrong hand. He slotted between her open thighs and turned her hand gently, kissing the slither of exposed skin between the thumb and index finger. Seren wanted to hold onto the anger she felt was justified, but she couldn't deny how much she wanted him. He stopped suddenly and she held her breath, waiting. She felt a kiss at the base of her throat and then at each ghost of a fingertip bruise on her neck, faint, but he found them all. She choked back a sob.

“I hate that I need you so badly.” Her whisper turned into a low moan as his long fingers teased a path through the thin layer of her underwear, already soaked with her need for him. She bucked against his hand, holding it in place tightly with her good hand. 

“Show me, Seren,” he demanded quietly, “show me what you need.” He slid the underwear down her legs. She covered his hand with her own and guided it to where she wanted him most. River thrust his fingers into her torturously slowly, building her orgasm from so deeply inside she could hardly breathe. "I've got you," he murmured through kisses, "I've got you." His thumb brushed against her clit and she rocked into him. She grasped at his shoulders as she got closer and closer to the edge. "I want this… want you, always." He kissed her hard as she came, swallowing her moans as she clenched around his fingers, his name on her lips. He worked her through the orgasm, watching her with a mix of pride and lust as she fell boneless into the mattress. 

“I’m not sure this is an appropriate way to earn forgiveness, River.” She whispered, a giggle bubbling in her chest for the first time in weeks.

“Thought I was never going to see you smile again,” he half joked.

“‘M not smiling.”

“Yeah you are.”

“It’s the endorphins. Totally out of my control.” She sat up to look at him, covering herself with her arm. “How do you still have clothes on?” She gestured to his jeans.

“I was more bothered about getting yours off,” he admitted. 

“Some things never change.”

“I’ve missed you so much, Seren.” His head dropped to his chest with a heavy sigh, the tension between them finally cracking. She moved her hand from where it covered her chest and brought it to cup his face, her fingertips running over the stubble. “Everytime I sleep, I see Duffy pointing that fucking gun at you.” He said hoarsely, laying bare his helplessness. Seren closed her eyes, trying to blink away the tears.

“Oh, love.” She sighed. Removing her hand from his face, she got off the bed and pulled on the closest item of clothing, his t-shirt. Then she set about closing the bedroom curtains and switching off the light in the hallway. He watched her from the edge of the bed until she stood directly in front of him. “C’mon, clothes off, we’re going to bed.” She nudged him. “I’ll be back in a sec.” She disappeared to what he assumed was the bathroom and came out a few minutes later in a t-shirt of her own. She put the one she’d taken off with the jeans he’d left by the bed and pulled back the covers of the bed. She folded her body around him, tucking her knees behind his and pressing her chest to his back. He could feel her warm breath on the back of his neck and her hand curled around onto his chest and for the first time in weeks they both fell asleep straight away. Seren woke on and off through the night to soft caresses and kisses until they succumbed to sleep again. In the early hours, fuelled by a restful night, she felt River curl around her, pressing hard into the soft flesh of her thighs. She rolled onto her back and pulled him to cover her body, pressing her heels into the back of his thighs to guide him into her. It was still so dark in her room that she could hardly see him. She let her hands guide her, trailing up his arms, over his broad back, down to squeeze his thigh, back up and into his hair. He matched with each roll of her hips, slowly and languidly. The darkness made everything quieter, his whispered affirmations, praise and moans were dizzying. Seren clung to him like she never wanted to let go, holding him to her as they both came. When she woke again, she was alone. If it hadn’t been for the ache between her thighs, it could have easily been a dream. 

*

River clattered up the stairs to Lamb’s office with more energy than he’d had in weeks, though his face did not share the same spirit.

“Blimey, you’re positively sprightly this morning. What’s wrong with your face?”

“It’s just my face. Ewelina has walked out on the old bastard.”

“Was she the Polish girl?”

“Yep, he insulted her cooking.”

“How many is that now?”

“He’s gone through eight, I think? He didn’t like Glenys-”

“No one fucking liked Glenys.”

“Or Debbie, Sarah, Pete-”

“What was wrong with Pete?” Lamb asked, incredulous.

“He couldn’t play chess. Shame, he left some decent IPA behind.”

“Is there anyone left?”

“Dunno, guess we’ll have to ask Taverner.” Lamb laughed,

“No, no Cartwright, you will have to ask Lady Di. Not me.”

“Go on Lamb, please? She’ll kill me.”

“While I would pay to see that, I’ll settle for watching you make the call.” He sniggered. With a heavy sigh, River took the outstretched phone.

“Umm, hi? It’s Cartwright? River Cartwright?” Lamb couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation to his disappointment. “Yep, another one. No, he just says they’re all shit. Great, thanks.” He hung up and passed back the phone. 

“Sending someone else?”

“So she says.”

“Y’know Cartwright, I’m quite enjoying the inconvenience all of this is causing for Lady Di. I feel like it’s a bit of vindication for us.” Lamb said decidedly.

The cause of the inconvenience tutted into his coffee, his mind wasn’t playing ball and the crossword was giving him more trouble than he deemed necessary. Outside, he heard a car far larger than River’s arrive, accompanied by a neat knock on his back door.

“David. Seems I have a reason to be here again?”

“Diana, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Well the pleasure is certainly not mine, I assure you.”

“Coffee?”

“Hmm,” Diana Taverner looked around David’s kitchen while he pottered around making her a cup of coffee. “You’ve declined another approved carer?” “They weren’t suitable.”

“None of them?” She scoffed. “I do find that hard to believe. You’re becoming a nuisance, David. I’m starting to regret not letting Duffy shoot you.”

“You don’t mean that,” he smiled.

“I actually do. I want this resolved, I want this off my desk, and the next time I hear your name, I want it to be when I find out that you died peacefully in your bed. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly.”

“So what is it you want?” David hesitated.

“I want Seren back.”

“The girl from the barn?” He nodded.

“I got on with her, she understood me. We had an agreement.” Taverner frowned.

“Cartwright, you know she’s not service approved. Our agreement was that you would have someone who was service approved.”

“So employ her? It’s not that difficult, surely?” She drank her coffee in silence. 

“Will it shut you up?”

“There’s a good chance of that, yes.” He held up a finger, “but I don’t want River to know, not until it’s done.”

“That’s making the very big assumption that I’m going to do this for you?”

“You want it off your desk. That’s how it goes.” 

“I don’t like being held over a barrel like this.”

“Should have shot me when you had the chance then.” Taverner laughed,

“Yes, well - touché. Very well. You won’t hear from me again.” She left her half drunk coffee on the table and David went back to his crossword.

*

Seren hadn’t heard from River at all. She sat with Maggie side by side in a brightly lit corridor, like naughty schoolgirls waiting to go to the office.

“I don’t like this.” Maggie grumbled.

“I know, but Daniel and Penny think it’s the right thing for you.”

“We’re coping perfectly fine, aren’t we?”

“Of course we are, but you’ll have a lot more friends here?” She held out a leaflet, “look, they go to senior swim as well? And trips to the cinema and Kew Gardens - you love Kew Gardens.” Maggie huffed.

“I like living in my own bloody house.” Seren didn’t respond. Maggie hadn’t taken the news of moving to a care home well at all. Her daughter and son-in-law were in the office finalising the details of her new ensuite room. “Will you visit me?”

“Of course I will, Mags. Try and stop me.” Seren took Maggie’s hand and kissed the back of it. 

“You’re a good girl, Seren. What will you do?” She shrugged.

“No idea. Maybe a holiday? It’s been a weird year so far.”

“Somewhere sunny. Get that swimming cossie out again.”

“I’m starting to think you’ve got a thing about my cossie, Mags.”

“Maybe in my younger days darling. Don’t tell Penny.” Seren smiled.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“Mum? Shall we take you to see your room?” Penny emerged from the office.

“I’ll go and have a look at the garden,” Seren told them and then dropped down to talk to Maggie, “be nice!” She warned her. She wandered around the extensive garden of the very exclusive - and expensive - care home. She wondered whether David had gotten the fence painted before the weather had turned, whether the plants they’d chosen were thriving. Her phone rang in her pocket and she pulled it out, the screen still cracked. She really needed to get that fixed. “Seren Harrison?”

“Ms Harrison, I have a call for you from Diana Taverner at Thames House. Can I connect you?”

“Uhh-” Seren’s response was a very undignified stutter and the call was connected before she could accept - or refuse - it. “Hello?”

“Ahh, hello. We weren’t introduced previously. I’m Diana Taverner, I hope you don’t mind my calling?” Seren stumbled over her words and formed some sort of non-committing answer. “Good. I was with David Cartwright a couple of weeks ago, has he been in touch?”

“No, why, what’s happened to him?”

“Nothing at all, more's the pity. He’s been getting through designated home assistance at quite a rate,” Seren couldn’t help but smile at the comment. “It’s becoming very frustrating. Apparently, he will only have you helping him.”

“Me?”

“You got along, did you not?” Seren recalled numerous plates and mugs she replaced but the memory was quickly overruled by ones of doing the crossword, drinking tea in the garden and learning how to play chess.

“We did,” she said softly.

“It seems the ties that bind you both mean a great deal to him. He would like me to make you an offer of employment.” Seren held her breath. “If that is acceptable to you?” Seren could almost hear David’s voice in her ear ‘don’t give in easily, make them work for it’. 

“Well, I’d need to know the terms of the contract, of course.” She stammered. Taverner sighed.

“Yes, yes. I’ll have someone send it over to you by courier. They will wait for an immediate return or dismissal though?”

“I’m sure that’ll be fine.”

“I certainly hope so. I do not want to have to deal with this any longer. I must go, I have a meeting with the Prime Minister shortly. I trust the contract will meet your approval, it’s likely you won’t hear from me again so you have both my admiration and commiserations for managing the Cartwright’s. You deserve a bloody damehood.” Seren nearly laughed at Taverner’s exasperated sigh.

“They’re definitely hard work.” She agreed.

“Indeed. Goodbye Ms Harrison, and thank you.” The call rang off before Seren could respond and from the conservatory, Maggie called and waved to her.

She parked in her usual spot. The revolving door of carers hadn’t bothered with the weeds on the driveway, she noted. She knocked and waited patiently, her hand had barely moved from the woodwork when the door flung open.

“Can I help you?” He asked impatiently. Seren sighed.

“Mr Cartwright, it’s Seren. I umm, well you see -” she tried to think of the best way to explain, the best way to re-introduce herself when she saw the corner of David’s mouth pulling into a smile. “You old git!” She scolded him with a grin.

“Couldn’t help myself my dear.” He beamed. “May I?” He held out his arms and she hugged him warmly. “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back. I take it you’ve been quite the troublemaker?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Seren dear. It’s been quite an ordeal, really.”

“Hmm. Why don’t you offer me a proper apology over tea? I brought cake.”

“Coffee and walnut?”

“Of course. Chess?”

“Naturally. Come on in.” Seren followed him into the house, the familiarity of it washing over her. Despite the break in, she felt safe and calm there. They caught up over cake. Seren found that she was no longer angry. Knowing that she was a fully paid up Park employee, David spoke more openly about his past. She knew there would always be things he would keep from her, but he was able to articulate fully what had happened when they’d been in the barn. He told her of his worries about River not sleeping properly, eating junk and his overall desolate attitude.

“I take it he doesn’t know I’m here?” She asked carefully. As he went to respond, the sound of a car turning on the driveway filtered through from the kitchen window.

“I suspect he does now.” He mused as River came to a stop quietly in the doorway.

Chapter 7

[annaelizabethhenry1]

Echoes from the Past - Chapter 2

Summary: River visits his grandfather post season 4 at the care home. The visits conjure memories of River’s childhood and teen years as he grapples with his grandfather’s declining mental health and how once he’s gone he’ll have no one left. Warning – spoilers for all four seasons.

A big thank you to my coven and our endless discussions about this fic and scenarios for Little River and the tough discussions around dementia. Writing may seem like a solitary endeavor, but its always a group effort - hugs and kisses to Alex @cillmequick and Dot @coffeeflavored <3

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter Two

As it was a long bank holiday weekend, River decided he’d stay at his grandfather’s house to make visiting him daily for the next few days simpler. The light was going down rapidly along the garden’s treeline and River hurried inside, clutching his bag of curry take-away. He flipped on the lights in the study and the kitchen. He also switched on the heating as it was freezing in the house. He missed the days when he would visit and the house was lit, warm with the fireplace crackling. Now the house was just an empty shell of its former self. It sat cold and dark, no life stirring from within it. 

As the radiators banged and hissed to life, River took out the curry, pulled a fork from a drawer and was about to sit down at the empty kitchen table and sighed. “God, how pathetic,” he muttered. Was this going to be his existence going forward, sad take away meals alone in a drafty house? He never realized how much he enjoyed his grandfather’s company until it had been taken from him. He took for granted the camaraderie they shared over the years. 

River walked back to the study with his curry and sat down in his usual chair as he couldn’t bring himself to sit in grandad’s as it would always be his even after he was gone. Mind you the chair River sat in used to belong to his Nan, but after she passed grandad told him it was his spot from now on which made it different. 

It was so quiet in the country compared to his noisy flat in London where there were always sirens, cars rushing by and people shouting. Just like when he first arrived here when he was almost seven, the silence made him feel lonely and isolated, like you’d survived some dystopian horror and only you were left. The silence hadn’t scared him for ages, but now it suddenly did because before even with the silence there was the chatter of his grandfather to fill the void and that was now missing.

River thought back to one of his first nights in the house. When everything seemed new and rather frightening. He’d never lived outside of London before nor had he ever stayed somewhere so fancy. It reminded him of how people on the telly lived. 

On the third night with his grandparents, River lay awake in his bed in what his grandparents called the guest room, but there was talk of making it more comfortable for him.  He wondered if that meant it would his room. He’d never had his own room before – usually he slept on a pull-out sofa or in a sleeping bag. He couldn’t fathom having a whole room that was just for him. Grabbing his bunny, he shuffled from under the cosy comforter and went to the window to look out.

River could not understand his grandparents yet. He always made a point to figure out how his mum’s latest boyfriend worked. What would upset them, what would make them happy or at least indifferent to him. With Nan especially, nothing seemed to trouble her. 

River whispered to Mr. Hoppinheimer, “I don’t get how they haven’t yelled at me yet. It’s been three whole days…I thought for sure when I spilled the milk today Nan would yell, but she didn’t.”

His grandparents were obviously older, but did this mean they yelled less or was it something else? An owl hooted in the tree near his window and River jumped. “What was that? A monster?”

The wind tossed the branches outside and one was close enough to scrap the house, scaring River further. He clutched his bunny while another sound echoed in the night sky and River shuddered as tears ran down his cheek.

River’s door creaked opened and light from the hallway poured in as his grandfather appeared, smiling. River quickly wiped the tears away, his mum hated it when he cried.

“River are you all right, lad?”

He shook his head no because he was scared and confused. River worried what his grandfather would do next. Best case he’d ignore him, worst he’d yell.

“Well we can’t have that,” David said coming into the room and turning a little lamp on that cast a soft glow about the room. 

His grandfather sat down at the edge of the bed closest to River, “Come sit next to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

River looked at this grandfather who smiled and patted the spot next to him. River hesitated, but went over and sat down. Grandad wrapped an arm around him, “Are you scared?”

“Yes, but I promised mum I wouldn’t be any trouble…”

“Oh, River my boy being scared isn’t causing trouble. You don’t have to worry anymore because I’m here to protect you, so is your Nan. We want you to be happy and we can’t do that if you don’t tell us how you feel, all right?”

Grandad pulled River closer and kissed the top of his head.

River didn’t know what to do. He felt so different. Like for the first time someone didn’t mind him being there. It was almost like they were happy he was here with them, especially his Nan.

“It’s so quiet here…but when I hear things…they scare me,” As if on cue the owl hooted. “Like that!” River snuggled into his grandfather’s sweater hoping he wouldn’t mind.

“Oh, that’s an owl. Tomorrow we’ll go out and investigate the garden and I’ll show you where the owls live and maybe if we’re lucky enough we’ll see an owl in the daylight as they usually hunt at night.”

“What’s investigate mean?”

“Explore. There’s so much to see around here. I can take you down the road to where the neighbours keep their horses. You’d like to see that, right?”

River brightened up. Someone wanted to do something especially for him. He didn’t understand it but he was glad his mum left him here. Mind you, he didn’t trust it yet, but this felt so different than what he was used to. 

“I like it here even if it’s scary at night.”

“It won’t be scary for long. You’ll get used to the different sounds. But you can always come to us if you’re scared. You don’t have to stay here afraid.”

“Won’t you be cross if I wake you?” River asked afraid he pushed too far.

“Cross? No, never.”

Grandad soothed River, tucked him back in, bunny and all and shut the light, but left the door open so he wouldn’t feel alone.

River thought wistfully on that moment, it was the first time he felt truly safe and loved. He knew recapturing that now was impossible given his grandfather’s condition. It also made him wonder if his grandfather was afraid when he was lucid, that he knew he was slipping away and couldn’t do anything about it. What could River do to soothe him? He had to find a way to comfort him after everything he had done for him. River knew his grandfather was flawed – more than ever now after finding out who his father was and what lay behind it. But still he owed him and deep down he knew his grandad had done his best for River all those years ago. 

River started as his mobile rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw Catherine’s name appearing on the screen. He thought it odd she’d call this late. He hoped everything was all right. “Hi Catherine. Is everything okay?” 

“Oh, hi River, yes. Just wanted to check in with you. I knew you said you were visiting David this weekend. I wondered if you had gone down.”

“Yeah, I did. He wasn’t so good today…he wanted to go home and then later he didn’t know who I was…”

“Oh, River…I’m so sorry. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day. Why don’t you try bringing some photos over with you? Remember the article I sent you mentioned that often helps them as their minds often live in the past, so seeing photos of you when you’re younger might bring him around,” Catherine urged from the other end of the line.

“Right. I forgot about that. I’ll go find some when I finish my curry.”

“Take away again, honestly,” Catherine huffed.

River chuckled. “It’s not like I’m in the mood to cook.”

“My offer still stands.”

“I know. I’ll see how tomorrow goes,” River said.

Catherine Standish had offered to come by for the day and visit David as he was familiar with her from their “adventure” together after River left David with her when they perused by both the Park and an assassin.  

After River finished his curry and tidied the kitchen, he went upstairs to his grandparents’ room. The door creaked as it opened, turning the light on the room came to life. He looked around, everything was tidy. The bed made, the curtains closed, the furniture recently polished. He wished he could take credit for it, but right after he left his grandfather at the care home, Catherine came by to help organize things with River, which included a weekend of tidying-up the house as it was long overdue for some sprucing up. 

River opened the closet door, staring at the sparse contents as half of it was in the care home with his grandfather and the other space belonged to his Nan who’s clothes had been donated long ago. A box caught his eye on an upper shelf. It looked like a hat box that would’ve belong to his grandmother. Reaching up he removed it and was surprised by its weight. Placing it down on the bed, River opened the lid, “Oh, wow…” It contained cards, drawings and other ephemera River had made growing up. He had no idea his grandparents had saved these. They were bundled neatly unlike his own memory box. 

As he shifted the piles and removed them to the bed, he saw the weathered rocks he decorated for the garden when he seven or eight. Then there was the ‘Best Grandad’ pin River bought for him one Father’s Day. He held it for a moment remembering trying to pin it on his grandad’s sweater with his little fingers and being pricked by it. River smiled. Digging further he found a child sized watch with the face scratched. 

“He kept this?” River muttered feeling his face flush as he looked up at the ceiling blinking back tears. The battered watch held a special memory for River, it was the catalyst in his bonding early on with his grandad. 

River had been with his grandparents almost a month when they presented him with a very cool digital watch that had a special little button that made it light up in the dark. He’d only taken it off to have baths since he received it, but one Sunday evening he realized it was missing from his wrist. He was seized by panic - his grandparents would be so disappointed in him if he already lost the watch. 

While he was still trying to understand his grandparents, River knew this was definitely the type of thing that would lead to yelling – it had to. He lost far less precious things when he was with his mum and she got so cross, calling him careless. It was no wonder that she left him here. Now where would he go if his grandparents got tired of him losing things or being clumsy? But with no father, who would take him in next? River remembered watching Oliver on the telly a while ago and thought how horrible it would be to live on the streets being a thief. Would Fagan be nice to him? River doubted it as no one seemed to like him. He’d not be able to keep Mr. Hoppinheimer or his new bear Benjamin who had a very smart bowtie. 

“Wait! Maybe it’s in the bathroom!” River darted across the hallway into the loo. 

River looked on the floor, under the rugs, by the sink, and under the towels that were neatly stacked. It wasn’t anywhere. He was so crestfallen and slumped to sit on the cold, tile floor, scared to tell them he lost the watch. Near tears, River tried to take a breath, but could feel his chest tighten as he was near hyperventilating. He breathed in and out harder. He had to think, where had he gone today? The kitchen, dining room and study – oh the garden! 

Earlier before dinner he and his grandad went into the garden to check on the pots to see if anything sprouted up yet. Grandad even gave him gloves to put on that were too big for him. Maybe the watch fell off then.

Darting back across the hallway, River went into his room to put his shoes on and then realized how would he get out of the house without explaining to his grandparents why he was going outside? The house was very creaky, but he already knew which steps made the most noise as he liked playing a game where he avoided them hopping around.

Tip-toeing in the hall and down the stairs avoiding the creaky spots, River edged around the wall and poked his head into the study and spied his grandparents involved in their books while the fire crackled. Seeing they were occupied, he made a dash to the kitchen. River peered out the kitchen door noticing the light was fading fast. He went into what his Nan called the jumble drawer where random things like screwdrivers, tape measures and a small torch were kept. He slid it from the drawer noiselessly as possible. The doorhandle was an odd lever River hadn’t completely remembered how to use and it squeaked a little when he turned it the wrong way. His heart pounded as he froze. All he heard was ticking from the clock in the entry hall and a tiny throat clearing from his grandad. River sighed. He pulled the door open just enough for him to get out. He immediately dove out of sigh against the chilly stone wall. 

“Whew, okay that was close,” River mumbled as he turned the torch on and began his search around the clay pots.

Just as he looked between the last batch of flower pots with the torch he heard the kitchen door squeak shut. “NO!” River whispered turning quickly and arcing the torch beam into one of the windows. He hastily turned it off less to draw attention to the garden. River went on his hands and knees in the damp grass to hide when he noticed his missing watch in a tuft of high grass around one of the larger planters. 

River wrapped the watch around his wrist and proceeded to crawl back to the house to stay out of sight till he reached the back door. Slowly, he got up and peered through the metal and glass panes. The kitchen was dark, so no one was there. River turned the lever but met resistance. “It’s locked,” River whispered in a panic. Now what? He pushed on the door to see if it was stuck, but it didn’t budge. “Wait…the key under the yellow pot.” Nan told him about it in case he ever got locked out in the garden. He retrieved the key and ever so slowly turned it, hearing the click he breathed a sigh of relief and quickly returned the key under the pot and slinked back into the dark kitchen.

Just as he was about to make a dash to the stairs light flooded the room as his grandfather appeared from the pantry area, “River whatever have you been doing out in the garden in the dark?”

Grandad walked towards him and took the torch from a stunned River’s hand. “Well?”

This was it, he was done for, off to an orphanage for him or worse. “I…I…umm…” 

“David is everything all right, who are you talking to?” Nan shouted from the study.

“River, he came down for a glass of water,” Grandad coolly replied.

River was surprised his grandfather lied given he caught him sneaking around.

“River love, do you want a snack?”

“No, Nan, I’m not hungry, thanks!” River shouted back.

“So, what were you up to?”

River felt like he could trust being honest since his grandad just lied for him. “I lost my watch, Grandad. I went into the garden thinking it was there and it was,” River held up his wrist.

“Why didn’t you just ask? We would’ve looked with you, River.”

“Mum always said I was careless and I didn’t want you to be cross,” River said looking up at his grandad with those sad blue eyes. 

“My boy, we all lose stuff, wait till you’re my age, I misplace things all the time!”

Impulsively, River hugged his grandad around the waist, tight, which took David by surprise and he wrapped his arms around his grandson. “I have to say I’m impressed as I didn’t realize you left the house. I came to put my mug in the sink and noticed the door was open a little and closed it. Only when I saw the light did I realize you were outside. Always remember if you hear noise when sneaking about with a torch to turn it off immediately and then hide.”

River pulled away and looked up curiously at his grandfather, “What? You didn’t mind I did that then?”

“Well, best not tell your grandmother, she wouldn’t approve, but I see you’ve got potential,” he replied with a warm smile.

“What’s potential?” 

“Ah, in this case it means,” Grandad leaned in and whispered, “I think you could be a good spy one day.”

“Wow,” River managed.

“That’s between us, remember,” his grandad winked.

River tried to wink back but only achieved an awkward form a blinking which made his grandad chuckle.

The memory in retrospect was even more bittersweet than River liked to admit. The irony of him ending up in Slough House, being the biggest disappointment anyone could ever be to a grandfather who had been first desk. Maybe it was a good thing Grandad couldn’t remember things anymore, it saved him the embarrassment. 

**************************

David Cartwright shambled through the hallway that led back to his room. All the chatter from the dining room became too much for him. He was used to his home and the quiet, not constant yammering. Turning the knob to his room he heard his name called and twisted to find the small lady who always seemed happy coming at him. 

“Did you not want to play bingo?”

“Bingo’s for old people,” he responded turning back to his room and pushing the door open.

Orla chuckled. “Yes, of course and you’re clearly too young for that kind of thing. Would you like to play chess or checkers with me?”

David plunked down in the leather chair. “I hate all the noise, so no thank you.”

A lightbulb went off, he hated the dining room and rec room because it was too much for him. “We could play in here where it’s quiet. And maybe you’d like cup of tea, too?”

“Maybe…I used to play with River. I taught him to play chess. He never got very good at it, always was an impulsive player. Where is my boy?”

“He was here earlier at lunch, Mr. Cartwright.”

“I don’t remember. He hates me anyway. He only comes because of Rose.”

Orla was beginning to see the picture more clearly now. Not only was it just the dementia at play, but a family rift or misunderstanding. There wasn’t much time to repair this either given how quickly the dementia seemed to be progressing. “No, I spoke to him earlier, we had tea and cake together. He cares about you very much, I can tell. I think it’s hard for him to deal with his feelings. Let me get that chess set and come back, okay?” 

“Yes, whatever,” David mumbled.

Orla returned a short while later with a boxed chess set and Sylvie bearing a small tea tray. The two women set everything up near where David sat.

Finally sitting down across from David, Orla began to put the chess pieces on the board. “I’ve had a long day, it’s nice to sit down quietly here to be honest, I can see why you wanted to as well.” She knew that many dementia and Alzheimer’s patients became frazzled from too much stimulation depending on what stage their condition was in, but she did wonder about David as he seemed so sharp sometimes. She’d have to chat with River further about his thoughts as he was the best judge.

“Yes, well I’d rather be in my own quiet home.”

“Where would you be right now if you were home?”

“My study with my books and some whiskey.”

“Avid reader?”

“Yes.”

“I love Dickens. My favourite is the Pickwick Papers.” 

“That’s a terrible choice. Why not Bleak House or at least David Copperfield?

Orla smiled and continued to place the chess pieces down. “I like to be different. It’s his only truly humorous work and I do so love to laugh.”

David cracked a shadow of a smile. “I see you know how to set the board up. Let’s see how well you play.” 

“I’ wager you’ll route me in no time,” Orla said with a cheeky wink.

Orla knew she was far from a chess champion, but David Cartwright despite his age and mental health was still quite the chess player as within the hour she had been corned into checkmate. 

“Checkmate!” David said triumphantly.

“Ooo! Damn!” Orla said. “Sorry…”

“No, you’re within your right to swear. You weren’t paying attention to your bishop earlier hence you’re in this mess now. I always told River not underestimate the power of your bishops. Not that he ever listened either.”

“You love River very much, don’t you?”

“Of course, he’s my boy.”

Orla sat quiet for moment. She wanted to say that his grandson was his son in every way that truly mattered and I’m sure River felt he same way. She decided to push a little. “Yes, I can tell. You’re very proud of him I’m sure. Though I do wonder why you think he doesn’t care for you.”

David’s face changed, Orla saw it immediately. She lost him. Damn!

“Yes, well he left me here to die,” David said gruffly, pushing the little card table with the chess set towards Orla.

“He did that to keep you safe. I know it’s not easy to admit, but sometimes we need help.”

“Help? This is what you call this hotel hospital environment? We’ve all been left here to die because someone who loved us just can’t be bothered.” He crossed his arms and turned his face away.

Orla did hate to admit that she had seen many people left at care homes who had no visitors and it always broke her heart. But this wasn’t the case for David Cartwright. His grandson cared a great deal. “May I call you David?” he shrugged in response. “David, your grandson is a busy man with a career and no doubt a personal life and he just can’t quit his job and stay with you as you do really need constant support to ensure you don’t get hurt.”

“I’d rather die than be here.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. Maybe when River comes by tomorrow it’ll make you feel better about all of this. I’ll get Sylvie to help you to bed if you’re ready. Maybe you can watch some telly or I can get you a book from the library.”

“Just leave me alone!” He said much louder than he intended.

“Okay, have a goodnight and I’ll see you tomorrow,” Orla said with a sad smile and tiny wave.

Two steps forward and one step back she thought. Tomorrow was indeed another day and she’d make the most of it.

[moonmaiden1996]

Hiya,

Hope you're having a great day, just wanted to ask if you were okay w writing another River x Sid fic. I loooooved your last one but there aren't many for this pair even though they have sm chemistry.

Set after they get together and both back working at the park, jealous!River (BC I'm a sucker for possessive men) thinks one of their colleagues are a bit too close/friendly. Sid notices and thinks it's hilarious and adorable so she spends the day rieling him up as he alternates between silently fuming and interrupting them despite being busy busy busy w errands from 2nd desk ( Diana T) who (along w the rest of the office) think this is the most entertaining thing they'll see in a while so mik it for all they can

Ends w Sid reassuring (and teasing) him and everyone else at the Hub watch as puppy boy bounces back and they're all shaking their head in disbelief

It's probabs too specific so feel free to take liberties wherever (pls no smut tho)

IK THIS IS SO LONG BUT IM STARVED FOR CONTENT

But if you don't want to or no longer do this pair then pls tag me and lmk and sorry for rambling

Tysm ❤️❤️

I have been obsessed with this prompt. I don't really ship Sid and River as I see them more as friends but I cannot deny the chemistry. And I cannot turn down jealous or dark River requests.

@fic-adict

River Cartwright was not sulking.

Sure, his arms were crossed, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his gaze was laser-focused on the far corner of the Hub, but sulking? That was beneath him. Or so he told himself. And yet, River Cartwright’s patience was undeniably wearing thin.

From his cramped workspace in the corner of the MI5 Hub, he had an excellent view of Sidonie Baker standing by the coffee station. Normally, that view would brighten his otherwise dreary day, but today it was accompanied by a gnawing irritation. The source of his ire? One overly enthusiastic Tom Price, a fellow officer from the Political Monitoring Unit, who seemed far too interested in whatever Sid was saying.

River didn’t trust Tom’s too-bright smile or the way he leaned just a little too close. And he especially didn’t trust the way Sid was smiling back—relaxed, amused, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke.

"Cartwright," came Diana Taverner’s voice from behind him, sharp and clipped as ever. She dropped a thin file onto his desk with a decisive thwack. "This is for you. Urgent. I need it sorted before the close of play."

"Right," River muttered without enthusiasm, his gaze flicking briefly to the file before snapping back to Sid and Tom.

Taverner didn’t miss the glance. Her mouth quirked in a faint smirk. "Something distracting you, Cartwright?"

"No, ma’am," he replied quickly, sitting up straighter.

Her eyes lingered on him for a beat too long, assessing, before she turned and walked away, her heels clicking purposefully on the floor.

For most of the morning, River alternated between pretending to work and inventing increasingly flimsy excuses to wander closer to Sid. His first attempt involved a trip to the stationery cabinet, conveniently located near her and Tom. The second saw him carrying a stack of papers to the shredder—papers that could have waited, but River decided couldn’t.

Every time he passed, he caught snippets of their conversation. Every laugh from Sid made his chest tighten. Every friendly gesture from Tom made his blood simmer.

At one point, as River loitered near the water cooler, Louisa Guy appeared beside him, holding an empty mug. She followed his gaze, then smirked. "You know, glaring at Tom won’t make him burst into flames."

"I’m not glaring," River said defensively, his tone just a little too clipped.

"Right," Louisa said, filling her mug with deliberate slowness. "And I’m the Queen of Denmark." She gave him a knowing look before sauntering back to her desk.

River sighed, rubbing his temples. He could feel the amused gazes of his colleagues, most of whom were clearly enjoying his transparent attempts to shadow Sid. Even Taverner passed by again at one point, pausing just long enough to say, "Cartwright, if you’re done patrolling the Hub, perhaps you could do your actual job?"

"Yes, ma’am," River muttered, slinking back to his desk under the watchful eyes of the Second Desk—and everyone else.

Sid, of course, noticed River’s antics almost immediately.

She wasn’t blind to the way his jaw tightened every time Tom laughed too loudly or the way he seemed to materialize near her whenever Tom leaned in to speak. She probably should have reassured him outright, but instead, she found herself leaning into the absurdity of the situation.

When Tom complimented her on a report, she smiled brightly and thanked him, knowing full well River was within earshot. When Tom offered to grab her a coffee, she accepted, even though she’d just finished a cup. And when Tom mentioned an after-work drink, she hesitated just long enough to see River tense before declining.

By early afternoon, the rest of the office was in on the drama. Shirley Dander strolled past River’s desk with an exaggerated sniff. "Smells like jealousy," she said loudly, earning a ripple of laughter from the Hub.

Louisa rolled her eyes but added, "At least he’s entertaining. It’s been a while since we had a decent soap opera around here."

Even Roddy Ho, who rarely noticed anything outside his screens, leaned over and whispered, "Hey, is this, like, a love triangle? Or are you just bad at stealth?"

River ignored them all, but the tips of his ears turned a telling shade of red.

The tension finally broke around 3 p.m., when Sid took pity on River and intercepted him near the photocopier.

"River," she said, stepping into his path. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly, too quickly. His hands fumbled with a folder he didn’t actually need. "Just…work stuff."

Sid arched an eyebrow, folding her arms. "Really? Because it looks like you’ve been hovering around me and Tom all day."

"I wasn’t—" He stopped, sighed, and raked a hand through his hair. "Okay, maybe I was. But he’s—he’s way too…"

"Friendly?" Sid supplied, her tone amused.

"Exactly." River’s eyes searched hers, his voice quieter now. "Sid, you’re—" He hesitated, then said more firmly, "You’re mine. And I don’t like the way he looks at you."

Sid softened at his words, stepping closer. "River. Tom’s harmless. And even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t stand a chance. You know that, right?"

He looked at her, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Yeah, I know. It’s just…"

"Adorable," Sid finished, smiling. "You’re adorable when you’re jealous."

River groaned, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Don’t call me adorable."

"Fine," she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "How about possessive? Territorial? Puppy-like?"

River muttered something incomprehensible, but the flush on his face betrayed him.

When they returned to the Hub, Sid’s hand resting lightly on River’s arm, the entire office was watching as River practically totted behind her, looking every bit like a golden retriever, trailing its owner. Shirley gave a loud whistle. Louisa looked impressed. Even Taverner, who had been reviewing something on her tablet, glanced up and smirked faintly.

"Cartwright," she said as he passed her desk, "next time, try to keep the dramatics to a minimum. This is still an office, not a rom-com."

"Yes, ma’am," River mumbled, trying not to trip over himself as he tried to follow Sid towards the exit.

As they left, Roddy frowned and muttered to Shirley, "Wait, so they’re together? Why didn’t anyone tell me?"

Shirley burst out laughing. "Thank fuck Lamb isn’t here to see this. He’d rather set himself on fire than watch that."

And with that, the Hub dissolved into laughter, leaving River and Sid to their dramatic exit.

Soooooooooo... what do you think???? Pleaseeeeee send River requests, he is such a good boy 🐕

[noforkingclue]

Her Blood Soaked Hands Chapter 1 (River Cartwright x OC)

Summary :

Naomi Heart

MI5 assassin (although really that word is just so outdated). Taverner blackmailed her into joining The Service or face prison time for a crime that she may, or may not have, done. Naomi hates having to work under Taverner but has even less desire to go to prison. Really she can see only way for her to get back her life-

Somehow make it into Slough House.

And she knows just the person to help her achieve this.

Author's Note: I wanted to go along a different route and make an OC that's a bit more... stabby than my other girls. Hope you enjoy this :)

Warnings: cannon typical violence, death (lots of death...)

Slow Horses tag list: @cillmequick

There weren’t many things that Duffy despised. Oh there were plenty of things that he hated but to loathe with a burning passion (not that he used that word too often) was far, far rarer.

Cartwright definitely made that list. An over arrogant cunt who never should’ve been made a spy in the first place. He believed that he had earned his spot due to the talents of his grandfather and not the limited ones of his own.

Taverner was next. Far too devious and would probably happily stab her own family in the back if it meant she could become First Desk. Duffy knew that she also despised, and distrusted him, so at least the feeling was mutual. Still, Duffy wanted to keep his job and Taverner was probably already plotting a way to get rid of him.

Then there was the general public. Well, specifically the public who somehow managed to get mixed up The Park’s business one way or another. They’d seen something that they shouldn’t and become snivelling wrecks. Oh well, at least the woman he was interviewing now was attractive enough to make this worthwhile.

“Ok,” he said as he led her away from the civilian emergency services, “let’s go through this one last time.”

“But I’ve already been through it with the police.” she said, a fresh set of tears pouring down her face

“Yeah, well, I need to hear it.”

“O… ok,” she sniffed once more before taking a deep breath, “I was hired to do some house sitting for the Jones’. I arrived slightly early so they could let me in-”

She cut herself off. By now Duffy and her were a suitable distance from the rest of the civilians. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She looked down at the ground and swallowed thickly. For a moment Duffy thought she was going to throw up.

“And?” Duffy said

When she looked back up any grief in her eyes and gone. She smiled widely and said,

“Well then Nick, the next thing I did was to shoot them all in the head.”

And then there was Taverner’s pet psychopath. Duffy pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. She just continued to smile and he said,

“I thought you only had one target.”

“Well you know how it is…”

“No I don’t.”

“Don’t you?” her voice lowered, “It’s not like you haven’t killed people before.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It just is. You know I’m going to have to report this.”

“Oh good,” her smile widened which, although he would never say this, unnerved Duffy, “I do hope so.”

“Excuse me? Are you finished with your interview? We’re going to have to treat her for shock.”

Immediately the mask slipped back onto her face and she was led back towards the ambulance. Duffy shook his head as he watched her leave with the medics. They really had no idea who they were dealing with, did they?

Civilians.

*

Diana Taverner looked out of the glass wall of her office and surveyed her empire below her. She knew that technically it wasn’t fully hers just yet but that was just a formality. She liked it when The Park was like this. Only the night shift on duty, no major catastrophes to remedy or create. Only the quiet hush that-

Was interrupted by the drumming of fingers.

Diana looked in the reflection of the glass at the young woman lounging on the leather sofa. She glanced over at Diana and raised her eyebrows. Neither of them spoke, not wanting to be the first to shatter the peace. Eventually the younger woman sighed and said,

“Is this going to take much longer?”

Diana smirked. Another battle won. She didn’t immediately reply, continuing to observe those below her. The other woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I didn’t realise you had anywhere else to be.”

Her eyes snapped open and she glanced over at Diana.

“I do have a life outside of here.”

“Hmm.”

She narrowed her eyes at Diana’s response. Diana turned on her heel and walked towards her desk. She sat down and picked up Duffy’s report. She read through it again before looking at her over the top of it. She wondered how many times Duffy had to redraft and edit it in order to make it professionally suitable.

“How many this time, Heart?” she asked

“Why? Didn’t Duffy remember to include it in his report.”

“I want to hear your side of things.”

“Makes a change.”

“And you’d do well to remember who is in charge.”

“I remember. Dame Ingrid Tearney, right?”

Taverner’s gaze hardened for a second before a cold smile appeared on her face. She clicked her fingers and pointed to the seat opposite her. Heart didn’t move immediately but one pointed look for Taverner made her sigh and move. She collapsed into the chair and Taverner said,

“I gave you one target.”

“You did.”

“So tell me, Naomi, why are we dealing with three dead bodies.”

Naomi bit her lip and rocked back in her chair. She looked up at the ceiling and said,

“They were paedophiles?”

“Were they?”

“Would that make things better or worse if they were?” Naomi rocked forwards and rested her elbows on Taverner’s desk

“We could work with that.”

“Then no, they weren’t. They just,” she shrugged, “got in the way.”

“You know,” Taverner’s gaze flicked back to the report, “Duffy called you a liability.”

“Did he?” Naomi said in amusement

“Among other things. None of which are overly flattering.”

“Really? Did he put that down in his report?”

“He’s suggesting that you should be terminated.”

“Literally or figuratively?”

“That,” Taverner ignored Naomi’s comment, “you shouldn’t be here.”

“And what do you think.”

Naomi and Taverner locked gazes. Taverner put down the report and leant back in her seat. She steepled her fingers and said,

“That, for the meantime, you’re useful.”

“What a relief. I would hate to be a burden.”

A brief smile flashed across Taverner’s face. Naomi looked out of the window, doing the same as Taverner earlier. The Park really was at its best like this.

“So what’s going to happen now?” Naomi asked, “I’m assuming that there’ll be an investigation.”

“No need to waste time and resources on that.”

Naomi looked over at Taverner sharply. She raised her eyebrows at Naomi before turning her attention towards her computer.

“I thought-” Naomi started

“Yes?”

Taverner’s gaze locked with Noami’s and she felt her cheeks get hot under her stare.

“Nothing.”

“If you have something to say, please, feel free.”

Free.

Naomi was anything but free. Taverner had sunk her claws so deep into her that it was almost impossible for her to see a way out.

“No,” Naomi said quietly, “no comment.”

“Good.”

“I’ll be heading off then.”

“I’ll have some more work for you tomorrow.”

“It’s a Saturday,” Naomi said, “don’t I get time off?”

“Not this Saturday. Now don’t let me detain you from your very busy personal life.”

Naomi bit her tongue as she left Taverner’s office. She was used to having the upper hand in these types of situations. Diana Taverner did nothing but bring a sense of uneasiness with every conversation. She sighed as she made her way through The Park’s corridors. Hushed whispers followed her but by now she had become used to them. Her line of work was a lonely one. Others tended to avoid people like her. Even those in the same line of work didn’t talk much. Just the odd ‘hello’ here and there but apart from that, nothing.

Naomi sighed and rested against the railing as she looked down on the people below. She could feel the stares but continued to ignore them. Diana fucking Taverner. This was all her fault. Naomi had a good life before Lady Di pushed her way into it. A good job, a nice house, things that mattered. But now Taverner had her exactly where she wanted Naomi- at her beck and call.

It wasn’t as though Naomi hadn’t tried her damnedest to get out from under Taverner. Every little trick in the book she had tried and Taverner had always managed to find a way to drag her back. Really, Naomi should’ve been expecting something like this. You didn’t become Second Desk without being unhand. Maybe Taverner was grooming her to become some sort of replacement? Doubtful. Even the mere thought made Naomi wrinkle her nose.

Oh she had no desire to go to prison, not at all, but she didn’t want to be chained up here for the rest of her career.

“Did you hear about what happened the other day?”

Naomi perked up at the possibility of hearing some gossip. Gossip was a valuable form of currency at The Park. Rumours, true or not, could easily destroy someone. Always a useful weapon to have and Naomi was constantly looking for ways to upgrade her arsenal

“Was this about those fucking Slow Horses?” the second agent said as they passed by Naomi in a hurry

Well then, why didn’t she think about them earlier?

*

It had been another rough day for River. Then again, those days were becoming more and more frequent. The bad always outweighed the good in Slough House. Jackson Lamb had the uncanny ability to suck any joy out of someone's day. In the end it was just to give up.

“Excuse me, is this spot taken?” a woman said

River shook his head but didn’t bother looking over. After all, she was just going to be waiting for someone else. No one ever went looking for a Slow Horse. How long had it been since he had gone on a date? It was hard enough to get a date when working at The Park but being in Slough House just sucked every bit of energy from River. It was why he was spending his Friday night drinking alone in a bar. Always a good sign for his future.

“You’re River Cartwright.”

Now this caught River’s attention. River finally looked over at the woman who stood next to him at the bar. She smiled at him but there was a hint of… something behind it. He had seen that look before on Taverner and on Lamb. It didn’t suit someone so young and so attractive. River tried to take another sip of his pint but ended up missing his mouth and spilling part of it down his shirt.

Estuary accent. Nothing particularly remarkable although it sounded ever so slightly forced. He narrowed his eyes as he took another sip of his pint, this time the alcohol actually going into his mouth. 

“You’re in Slough House.”

So, she was definitely Service. He winced at her statement causing a flash of amusement to cross her face. It was an automatic reaction, one that he was trying (and failing) to break. Her smile widened as she edged closer. Fuck, when was the last time he had someone this close to him who wasn’t trying to kill him? However, the disarming smile and dangerous glint in her eyes was enough for River to second guess that latter bit.

“You are.” she said quietly, her breath fanning faintly across his cheek

“It’s not exactly a secret,” muttered River, “if you work where I think you work.”

She cocked her head to the side as she studied him intently.

“You want out of there.” she said bluntly

“Who doesn’t?”

River put his pint down, slightly harsher than intended. Some more of his overpriced pint sloshed out and he tried not to think about what a waste of money that was.

“Who the fuck are you and why do you give a fuck about Slough House.”

“You want out,” the mystery woman repeated, “and I want in. Maybe we can help each other out.”

[oneiric-thoughts]

String Theory - Opus 1

River Cartwright x Eliza Zhou (OC)

Preview: It didn’t get more Slough House than this, a babysitting gig for someone who meant bugger-all to River's career in the grand scheme of things. Yet staying indifferent to his principal—the violinist—was proving to be harder than he'd expected, especially when she turned up with proper coffee, fresh pastries, and a smile bright enough to light up half of London on a blackout day.

Piece played: Sarabande from Bach Violin Partita No. 2 in D Minor

Word count: 2,010

The first chapter is finally here! Giggling and kicking my feet while writing this and got carried away 😆 Let me know what you think!

River was nursing a migraine. 

From what, he didn't particularly know. His job hadn't been stressful lately—not that it ever was. Retyping surveillance notes or vetting outdated intel couldn’t exactly have him clocking seventy-hour weeks. Maybe it was the copious amount of bad coffee he puts in his system. Or just the general misery of working in this dump finally taking a physical toll. 

All River wanted was to turn off the lights, shut the blinds, and sneak a thirty-minute nap. So when Lamb’s thudding barrage pounded three times on the ceiling, it was as if the man himself had descended from his lair above, wielded a sledgehammer, and aimed straight at River’s skull. He mulled over his options: feign unconsciousness and let Louisa shoulder the fallout—paying the favour back with drinks as soon as his head didn’t feel like someone was jackhammering his eyeballs—or exert the last of his remaining energy to endure whatever delight Lamb had in store.

Another three well-aimed thumps. Right. Louisa wasn’t in, then.

River sighed, wishing for death as he lifted his head, pushed his chair back, and trudged upstairs. The moment he cracked open Lamb’s office door, his senses were immediately assaulted by the familiar stench of last week’s curry, Lamb’s signature odour, and something that was—if River let his mind wander dangerously close to specifics—vaguely reminiscent of stale garlic. 

“Took you long enough.” Lamb didn’t look up. “Thought you’d finally found the sense to fuck off for good.”

“Did you call me in just to take the piss, or is there actually a job involved?” River’s head throbbed as he spoke, but even debilitated by the migraine he felt compelled to lob something back at his boss.

Lamb just snorted. “Oh, you’re in luck, Cartwright. There’s a job. Security detail.”

He lazily flung a file across the desk, slim and pristine compared to the usual sludge. River flipped it open and found the face of a young woman staring back at him—dark hair, darker eyes, draped in a gown he suspected was worth more than the building’s annual upkeep. 

“This is…?”

“Eliza Zhou. Concert violinist. American. His Royal Pain in the Arse invited her for some fancy fiddling at his gala, then the Proms.” Lamb paused, his chair creaking as he shifted, and unleashed a long, unmistakably lethal fart. Biohazard, River thought, eyes watering. Lamb, impervious, continued, “She’s a treat for the moneyed lot.”

River held his breath, quickly skimming through her file: twenty-seven. Born in Xiamen. Current residence, New York. Graduate of The Juilliard School. No potential threats. “So what exactly is the palace worried about? Rogue cellists?”

“Not even that, really,” Lamb said, reaching for a cigarette and lighting it with all the flourish of a man doing a favour for the world by shortening his life expectancy. “Which is why it’s your job, see? Taverner doesn’t want the press saying some royal visitor got shivved or had her precious violin nicked on her watch, and she’s even less interested in using anyone important to prevent it. So, here we are.”

River flipped another page, barely glancing until a detail snagged his eye: Current instrument: Solomon ex-Lambert, 1729 Stradivarius. Estimated value: USD 2.1 million. On loan from the Nippon Music Foundation. He could feel his migraine getting worse. Was this the job? Playing bodyguard to a glorified antique worth more than his entire career? “Two million? For a fiddle?”

“Imagine the headlines,” Lamb drawled, lips curling as if savouring a private joke. “Royal guest has her priceless pluck box pinched on British soil. Taverner’s worst nightmare. And officially your problem.”

“Honoured to be of service,” River muttered, suppressing the urge to hurl the file back to Lamb’s face. It didn’t get more Slough House than this, a babysitting gig for someone who meant bugger-all to his career in the grand scheme of things. Not a diplomat, not one of the top brass of the Service, not their second cousin’s sister’s niece—not even the world-class violinist, by the looks of it, but her bloody instrument. It was as if Taverner had carved it in stone: Slough House, the bottom-feeders of Her Majesty’s Secret Service.

“Tomorrow morning,” Lamb added, looking immensely bored already, “you’re to make an appearance at Kensington Palace, 10 sharp, to meet her team. They’ll tell you where she’ll be, what to look out for, and where to stand when you’re looking out for it. Shouldn’t be difficult. Not even you can cock it up.” He leaned back in his chair, taking another drag on his cigarette. “Don’t prove me wrong, and wipe that sour look off your face—you’ll give the girl nightmares. What the fuck is wrong with you, anyway? Didn’t think I’d assigned you to sort through the bins today.”

River just sighed in response, the briefing sucking his willpower to stay upright, not having it in him to throw a comeback. He stuffed the folder under his arm and started for the door before Lamb could add more insights. 

But of course, he did. “And, Cartwright—try to keep your hands in your pockets. Don’t need you to start a diplomatic incident.”

“I’ll restrain myself.”

Lamb glanced at him with a smirk, beady eyes glinting with wicked amusement. “Good boy. Now piss off before I decide to show some affection and dock your pay.”

River finally headed out, wondering how long it’d take for the novelty of guarding Eliza Zhou to wear off. He gave it twenty minutes, thirty if she played something he recognized.

By morning, the migraine had eased up, leaving River in a state that almost passed for human. He dragged a dark blue suit from his pre-Slough House days out of the back of the wardrobe, actually bothered to shave, and made his way towards the car.

He spent most of the drive to Kensington Palace forming a mental picture of this supposed darling of the classical music circuit—daughter of pianist and conductor William Zhou, a titan on his own right. River concluded that she must look something like a Manhattan socialite crossed with a trust-fund dictator: perched in some opulent suite with a dozen cowering servants at her beck and call, fussing over an espresso like it was on trial for high treason. His assignment, no doubt, was to play the part of a security valet—somewhere between bodyguard and errand boy. Fetch her bags. Stand by the door while Miss Zhou ‘performed’ her artist act, which probably meant a lot of strumming and pouting for cameras. A Park Avenue heiress whose talent was as deficient as her character. 

But when he knocked on the door of her suite, the first surprise was that there was no entourage, no flock of assistants waiting on her feet. The “team” Lamb had referred to was one woman with the kind of bearing that suggested she was in charge of calling the shots at Pentagon, not taking care of a musician’s PR: tall, blonde, dressed in a sharp black blouse tucked into an even sharper pair of brown tailored trousers. “Morgan Knox,” she introduced herself briskly, sizing him up with a cold glance. “Eliza’s agent. You’re Cartwright?”

"That’s what it says on my badge," he replied. Knox didn’t seem amused. 

She wordlessly gestured for River to step inside. What greeted him was the sound of the violin—a piece he didn’t recognise—the melody simple, the pace deliberate. He followed the notes toward their source, turning left to see Eliza Zhou standing in front of the big glass window. She traced her bow across the strings, face scrunched with an expression that looked like concentration. 

No, not concentration, he realised. That look was closer to sorrow.

The melody slithered into the depths of River’s mind, unlocking a box containing memories he’d rather kept untouched. His nan’s funeral. Watching his granddad cry, for the first and last time. That cursed day he’d dropped him off at the home, David’s voice still ringing in his ears: You promised you wouldn’t do this to me, River!

He blinked a few times, struggling to resurface from the fragments threatening to pull him under. The violin hadn’t stopped; Eliza was still playing with that look on her face, minor keys and heartbreak spilling into the room.

The piece concluded with a quiet vibrato, the final note fading away on a downbow. Eliza exhaled, something like relief, and, as if catching the sense of someone else in her self-spun storm, glanced up toward him.

“Oh—hi. You must be River Cartwright.” And just like that, the clouds cleared, the skies returned to blue. She set down her violin and moved toward him, extending a hand. “Eliza. Nice to meet you.”

Her voice was warm, a far cry from the drawl he'd half expected. She was a head shorter than him, and what yesterday’s migraine had fogged over was the fact that she was beautiful: glass-like skin, high cheekbones, and hair dark enough to suck all the light out of the room—

River dropped that line of thought fast, right as Lamb’s voice pierced through the back of his mind: “Try keeping your hands in your pockets, lover boy.”

“Yeah, likewise,” he managed a reply, shaking her hand, feeling the rough brush of her calloused fingertips. She slipped her hand away, reached for a paper sitting atop a nearby table, and handed it over, flashing a smile.

“Thought you might need this.” Inside were two pastries, smelling fresher than anything he’d had in weeks, and a coffee. Black, from the looks of it—just how he took it. “You look like you need it more than me.”

He blinked. “Sorry, what?”

She took a sip from her tea, dark eyes glinting with amusement. “I don’t know who decided a violinist needed a security detail from MI5. A bit overkill, wouldn’t you say?”

“Here for the violin, actually.” River felt his own mouth twist into a smile he hadn’t seen in months. “The Palace would rather lose a corgi than have a relic stolen on their watch. Wouldn’t look good on the papers. You’re just collateral, I’m afraid.”

Eliza snorted, but then nodded with a resigned sigh, as if accepting the fact that her 300-year-old instrument was worth more than herself. “Well, still seems a bit of a downgrade for you, doesn’t it? I mean, what does MI5 do, exactly? Leaping out of helicopters and tearing down motorways in Aston Martins?” She had that tone—like she’s talking to some kindred spirit at a niche fan convention, not her assigned minder. 

But he wasn’t in the mood to entertain her with the reality of the Service, either—that it was more about putting out whatever fire the bigwigs had sparked this week than dodging bullets. Nor did he have the heart to let on that her “agent” was practically a case study in how to land oneself in the gutter of the Service.

“Mostly paperwork,” he replied, deadpan. “Not much glamour in intelligence work, sorry to say.”

Her eyes crinkled at that, though he knew she didn’t quite believe him. 

“Alright,” Eliza says, beaming at River so brightly it might have singed his eyebrows, “what’s the protocol here? Do you follow me around with an earpiece and sunglasses, or are we going for more of a ‘blending in’ vibe?”

River’s lips twitched. He couldn’t quite say she’d won him over, but tolerable was more than most got—so maybe this job wouldn’t be hell after all. “I’ll do my best not to ruin the atmosphere. But I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“Noted.” Eliza’s grin widened, and she pointed to the sofa in the living area. “Let’s get into it, then shall we? Morgan will run you through my schedule, and I assume you’ll enlighten me on security protocols?”

River nodded, trailing after her and reviewing the entire mental catalogue of snide retorts and reasons to despise the job. But here she was, looking up at him with a mixture of humour and genuine curiosity, and his list of complaints suddenly seemed flimsy.

Permission to tag @cillmequick @noforkingclue @daydreamgoddess14 @lilacsnid! Love your River fics so I thought I’d share mine with you guys ❤️

[amoromniaodium]

Slow Horses

Irina Agapov (OC x River Cartwright)

Irina Shayk as Irina Agapov

Jack Lowden as River Cartwright

Gary Oldman as Jackson Lamb

The rest of the cast as themselves

Introduction

When Irina was a young girl, too young to remember everything clearly, her mother brought home a British spy. It’s important to note that Irina did not know who he was until years later. He was very different from the usual men her mother brought around. For one, he wasn’t Russian. He was smaller than the typical Eastern European men, and when he spoke Russian, his accent made her giggle. Even at her young age, Irina could tell that he was dangerously charismatic. After his third visit, her father disappeared and was never found. Her babushka told her he had died for Mother Russia, but Irina knew, even as a child, that it was really the strangely charismatic man with the piercing glare—his eyes, blue like the deepest part of the ocean—that was responsible. That’s the only thing she truly remembered about him: the eyes.

Later, her mother and she left Germany for England to start a new life. However, at that time, England was not kind to Russian immigrants. It was there that Irina learned to build masks and switch between them quickly. She developed an ability to read situations and analyze human reactions—skills honed while running from bullies, but some would say they were passed down by her father and grandfathers, all men involved in the world of espionage. So it was no surprise that the same man who visited her mother when she was young continued to keep an eye on Irina—until she disappeared to America at the age of 16.

Jackson Lamb knew deep down that little Irina was going to be a problem. He just never realized what kind, until it was too late.

—-

Irina has worked worldwide for government agencies and private companies in need of her services. Her exploits, as terrifying as they are magnificent, are in high demand everywhere. However, when she learned that Jackson Lamb now works at Slough House—and has for years—she couldn’t resist visiting him. She had also heard that he had grown particularly attached to his group of misfits, especially one named Standish. Finding work in London wouldn’t be difficult for Irina, but the real issue was that this particular group of incompetents would somehow worm their way into her cold-blooded heart, especially one River Cartwright, whose grandfather she despises.

This is the story of how a little Russian girl became one of the most feared assassins, but if you were able to find a way into her cold heart, she would be willing to do anything for you.

This is the story of River Cartwright, a kind and gentle soul whose stupidity might outweigh his competence, but whose love will bring about great change.

This is the story of Jackson Lamb and the little Russian girl with big green eyes—whom he was never able to forget, but wishes he could.

This is the story of the Slow Horses, whose incompetence may make them the best agents in MI5—if only they had one superhuman addition.

This is the story of Lady Di, who will regret knowing Jackson Lamb for the rest of her life.

——

Preview:

"What happened to you? You used to be an extremely attractive man."

"And how would you know? You were only five years old."

“River Cartwright, you say? Cartwright, as in…?"

"Ah, yes, you know my grandfather?" River replied.

Irina couldn’t help but burst into laughter—not a soft, elegant laugh, but the kind you get when you realize that karma has delivered a perfect blow to your biggest enemy.

"Ah, perfect! The old bastard’s grandson in Slough House—this is better than anything I could have done to him. How did he react when you told him?"

River wasn’t sure how to respond.

"No, don’t tell me. I’ll let my imagination run wild for the next two months. Thank you, you’ve truly brought me joy," she said before brushing past him to go upstairs, shouting, "Lamb, Lamb! Please tell me you have a picture of the—"

River didn’t hear the rest, but he could guess where she was going. The only thing he managed to say, five minutes too late, was "You’re welcome."

He wasn’t sure if it was her confidence, perfect posture, perfume, or her face that made his brain slow down, but he knew one thing: her presence here was definitely not going to help his chances of getting back to the Park.

[burymeinwillow]

[Bonanza Fanart x OC Art, Heather/Joe]

Heather POV: Falling in love with the guy you strictly told you'd never be interested in EVER

The short snippet I wrote that inspired this doodle below the read more:

Heather pulled the neckerchief from her neck with a sigh before she bent down towards the stream, gently wetting the cloth in the running water. Droplets wetted her skirt as she lifted the now soaking neckerchief and placed it on the back of her neck underneath her dark red hair. The coolness from the water spread down her back and chest, like she had dipped her whole body into the stream and she would never forget that feeling of immense relief. She looked up to see the younger Cartwright doing the same thing on a rock in the middle of the river, closer to the bottom of the waterfall they were currently resting by. 

Hoss Cartwright was waiting further up the hill from the river by the wagon. The little stream and waterfall had been a nice rest point to stumble upon on a hot Nevada day.

She watched as Joe Cartwright stood up placing his own wet neckcloth to his neck and letting out a deep sigh. Why he had decided to stand on the little rock island in the middle of the river, Heather didn’t know. Probably to show off, she figured. There was a part of her that got annoyed by it and yet she didn’t take her eyes off him. He didn’t notice. 

And if you think, for one minute, that I will EVER fall for you and your pretty boy charm, you’re dead wrong! 

Her own words rang in her head from months ago. It had been one of her first interactions with Joe Cartwright after first meeting him at Doc Henderson’s office. He had turned his charm up to the highest level and approached, only to get snapped at in a way that had sent his head spinning. Heather had been adamant that she wouldn’t get involved with anyone, not even friendship. 

Yet something had worked. Something had changed. 

She watched him with expressionless eyes as he patted the back of his neck with the wet cloth, wringing the last water from it before draping the rolled up neckerchief around his neck. 

Green eyes met hers and he smiled at her. Heather didn’t smile back, but she slowly stood up, keeping her eyes on him. 

Joe stared at her in return, raising an eyebrow. Her expression was unreadable, her hazel eyes vibrant and focused on him. It felt like she was staring into his soul and poking at all his deepest secrets and fears that neither his Pa or brothers knew of. His smile faded. They stood there for what felt like an eternity just staring at each other, the sound of the waterfall and river surrounding them and the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. 

Joe’s heart skipped as Heather took a step forward onto a rock in the river. She took another step onto another rock and with graceful movement she walked onto the rock he was standing on. She was barefoot and he felt her toes bump into his boot as there was barely space for the two of them to stand there together. 

Joe’s green eyes were wide as he stared down at her, feeling her brush up against him. The fabric of her shirt covering her bustle brushing against his shirt. He felt her breath on his collar bones. Her eyes kept his gaze like she had bewitched him. Joe felt his heartbeat pound in his head. 

The wind rustling around them made Heather’s hair flow gracefully around her face as if it was dancing and trying to tell him her thoughts. With every breath she took, her chest expanded and brushed against his. It made his head spin and yet his eyes wouldn’t leave hers. 

Heather’s hand touched his as they were hanging loosely by their sides. Her index finger lingering on his and even the smallest touch sent sparks up his arm. Her lips parted ever so lightly, her head tilted further towards him. Joe had never breathed so hard or felt so disconnected from his surroundings than he did in that moment. Something in her eyes changed and a tinge of hope touched her eyebrows ever so lightly. Her finger had fully wrapped around his. 

“Hey you two! We’re about ready to head out!” 

Hoss's voice calling broke their gaze in a second and before Joe could even gather himself Heather was gone off the rock and onto the other side of the river and heading towards Hoss and the wagons. 

“We’re coming!” He heard her voice call and Joe remained on the rock by the waterfall. He watched her walk up the hill and she didn’t even look back once. 

“Hey Lil’ Joe, you comin?” Hoss's voice asked gently and Joe swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“Yeah, Yeah, I’m comin’”

He stepped off the rock and onto solid land. Hoss gave him a concerned look which Joe waved off and began walking up the hill to their wagons with what felt like a hollow chest. 

[daydreamgoddess14]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 7 - The End

Time to say goodbye to this story. I've had the most fun writing it, I've loved Seren 🥰. I really, truly hope you've liked it too - hugest thank yous to everyone who's read it 😘. Always feel free to comment or message me or drop me an ask - literally I need no excuse whatsoever to go feral over Jack Lowden!

I am terrified about how emotionally traumatic Episode 5 is going to be so I distracted myself by finishing this off.

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6

Masterlist

Tagging: @cillmequick & @thomasshelbyswife

Chapter 7

“Hi.” Seren said quietly, a small smile on her lips. River nodded, his mouth pinched in a tight line. He turned and went straight back into the kitchen. David gave her a push of encouragement towards the door and she followed him. His hands held the edge of the countertop with a white knuckle grip, she could see his back was tense and feared the worst. Confused, she spoke quickly. “You… you don’t want me here.” She concluded. “And I stupidly assumed you knew about this, I’m sorry.” She shook her head and held up her hands. “I’ll go and he can explain to you, we can figure out a rota or something.”

“He gets forgiven and I don't?” He asked quietly. She stopped in her tracks. 

“I haven't seen or spoken to you? Let's not forget who left me in the middle of the night and no word since?” 

“You didn't want me there.”

“Yeah, at first. I'm pretty sure that changed when-” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “when I let you into my bed! Or did you get what you wanted and that's that?” She hissed. His face fell. 

“Seren, you know that's not it. I left because I didn't want you to think that you had to forgive me. I wanted you to want to.” Seren took a deep breath and rubbed her temples.

“Look this is… I don't know how we've gone wrong here, I'm pretty sure we're agreeing but,” she shrugged, “this has all got fucked up somewhere.”

“Why would you think I don't want you here?”

“I dunno, this is your world, this MI5 bullshit and now I'm here and involved… what if that's what messes everything up?” She asked. 

“No, no, it's not.” He assured her. She could see the hurt in his eyes. She stepped towards him and covered his hand with her own, matching finger to finger. 

“No more cast?” 

“All healed. Well, I need to be careful but, y'know.”

“You're back to throwing fake punches, then?”

“Ahh, no. I gave up on that.” She traced his fingers with her own. 

“Oh?”

“I do spin class now instead.”

“The one on the bike?” She nodded in reply as he turned his hand around so they were palm to palm, and interlocked their fingers. He pulled a face. “Sounds grim.” 

“I needed the distraction.” She mused. “I know you were doing your job.” 

“Yeah.”

“And that job comes with a level of secrecy.”

“Yeah.” She squeezed his hand lightly and let go.

“Ok.”

“Ok?” He looked confused. 

“Ok. I get it.”

“... And?” She smiled at the hopeful look in his eyes, rolling her own in exasperation. 

“Do I need to spell it out?” He shrugged, a smile pulling at his mouth. “You're forgiven.” She told him solemnly. He smiled widely until she held up a hand and it faltered. “But-”

“But?”

“But I have let the entire secret service into my life - they have looked into everything I've ever done. They found out about when I got three speeding tickets in the space of a week fifteen years ago. They know every job I've ever had - including the Anne Summers Saturday job I had when I was seventeen. They know I broke my ankle when I was twenty one, they know how much Netflix I watch. They know more about my life than I can even remember, River. That's… a lot.”

“It is a lot, Seren dear, and I'm eternally grateful to you.” David ambled through, not paying any attention to their proximity. “It's rather a big commitment to make to two men who've mostly pissed you off. What was it you told me before?” He wondered, “Ah yes, we sounded desperate.” 

“You did.” She remembered with a smile. “You still do - I should fill up this fridge. Poor bugger, you've been living on microwave meals.” 

“He brought that on himself.” River pointed out, purposely nudging her. 

“How ever did the Cartwright men survive?” She wondered. 

“We didn't. That's why you're here.” David declared. 

“Hmmm, yes, and I expect you both to grovel for as long as I say so,” she called after him as he went back to the sitting room. She felt River behind her, his warm breath by her ear. 

“On my knees. Every day. If that's what it takes.” He murmured, placing a large palm on her stomach and pulling her body flush with his. She trembled against him as he leaned in to bite her earlobe, unable to stifle the low moan. She quickly clamped her hand over her mouth.

“Seren? Put the kettle on, would you?” David called. River gently pulled her hand from her mouth. 

“Better answer him. He might come looking for you.” 

“You knob,” she scowled. “It's on David, I'll come and get the pot in a minute.”

“Righto,” he said cheerfully, she vaguely heard the rustle of the newspaper over the pounding of her heart. The hand River had on her stomach had slipped under her t-shirt and drew loose patterns on her skin. The front of her thighs pressed against the table and she had visions of being bent over it, lifting her hips to meet his while her fingers gripped the varnished wood and he pounded into her. The thought had her keening against him as his hand moved up to cup her breast over her bra. 

“Something you need?” He asked, his voice low in her ear. She didn't trust herself to speak, instead she arched her back and pushed herself back against his hard cock. He growled against her neck, “I could just bend you over this table?” She whimpered in agreement. “But not now.” Seren twisted in his arms and moved her legs to let him rest between them. She moaned into his mouth as his tongue slid against hers. 

“River-” She whispered as he bit along her jawline. 

“Not here. I want to hear you next time.” He looked at her intently, his eyes bright blue and dancing with mischief. Seren whined in frustration. “I want to see how many times I can get you to make that sound,” he kissed her again. “I want to hear you every time you say my name, and,” he kissed the tip of her nose, “I want to not wake up to an empty bed this time.”

“You and me both,” she breathed. 

“Are we OK?”

“I mean, aside from this still probably completely inappropriate -”

“At least I'm not the one paying you anymore.”

“Fair point, yes, we're OK.” He leaned in to kiss her again, “but-” Seren held up a finger to his lips which he promptly drew into his mouth, making her whimper. “We really should figure out what this is, because I don't want to make my working here awkward or confusing for David.” He released her finger and nodded. 

“You're the boss.” He said with a smirk.

“Not you anymore, is it?” She teased, “no more calling you ‘sir’.”

“Makes sense, I'm the one supposed to be grovelling.” 

“On your knees wasn't it?” She asked curiously, looping her arms around his neck. 

“You got it.”

“My place later?” 

“Fuck yes.” 

“Seren?” David called from the living room. Her head dropped to River's shoulder.

“Later.” He promised. 

“On my way,” she called back to David, pushing River back so she could stand up away from the table. She went to collect the teapot and check what he needed while River put the kettle on. 

*

Seren left the Cartwright’s late afternoon, saying goodbye to both of them. Only a couple of hours later, River knocked on her door. She let him in and had barely closed the door behind her before River had her backed up against it. 

“All day,” he muttered against her collarbone, “been thinking about this all fucking day.” 

“Oh god, River-” She panted as he grasped the soft flesh of her thighs. “Wait, wait, wait, I’ve just come from the gym, I’m disgusting.” She pointed out. He leaned back to look at her, hair piled into a bun on the top of her head wearing a crop top and lycra leggings.

“Don’t care,” he muttered, licking a path down her neck.

“Fuck me,” she gasped as he bit her bare shoulder.

“Yep, that’s what I -” he broke off, listening, “what’s that noise?”

“The shower. I told you, I’ve just got back from the gym.” He took her hand and led her to the bathroom where steam billowed out from the still running shower. He reached out to unzip the front of her crop top and threw it in the vague direction of her washing basket, he pulled off his own t-shirt and added it to the pile. “What are you up to?” She wondered aloud, taking off the rest of her gym kit and stepping into the hot shower. He stepped in behind her and poured vanilla scented body wash into his hands until it frothed. He stood closely behind her so she could lean against him, and rubbed the soapy water from her hands, up to her shoulders and across the other side. He held her against him as he gently washed her stomach, over her breasts and the rest of her body. She sighed contentedly.

“This ok?” He asked, his hands running over and between her thighs. She nodded and reached up to pull the hair tie from her bun. River guided them further under the water stream, his height over her giving him a direct line of sight down her body. Seren took the shampoo from the shelf and he took it from her, gently washing her hair. He took his time, she relaxed against him, his eyes were drawn to the path the droplets of water took over her skin, like memories of where his mouth had been.

“Why’re you doing this?” She questioned as his fingers kneaded through her hair. She moaned at the slight pull, he kissed her neck, acknowledging that he’d heard her response.

“You look after everyone.” He explained simply. He replaced the shampoo and picked up the conditioner, repeating the same process until Seren was dizzy with her need for him. 

They lay nose to nose in Seren’s bed, close to sleep.

“We should be careful, David put himself out there by demanding Taverner employed me. I don’t want to break his trust.”

“I know. This doesn’t have to be complicated, maybe we should just enjoy the distraction. Keep it simple.” He rolled onto his back and pulled her with him. He felt her nod in agreement.

“Yeah. Keep it simple.”

“I want you to be able to walk away from this one day. You don’t want MI5 in your life forever.” He reasoned, half asleep. Seren stayed quiet. His breathing evened out and the hand that brushed up and down her bare back fell still.

“What if I do?” She whispered to the darkness.

*

Seren was on her way to David's when the phone rang through the car. 

“Ms Harrison?” Her stomach dropped to her feet, it didn't sound like Taverner fortunately, so her mind immediately went to the next worst case scenario - Mags in the care home. 

“Yes, that's me?”

“I'm calling from Medway hospital, we have David Cartwright here - you're listed as one of his emergency contacts?”

“David? Oh, god. Yes, yes I'm his home help, I'm on my way there now, what's happened?” She came to a set of lights and did a u-turn.

“You're not live in?”

“No, we didn't think he needed that just yet.”

“It's not too serious, he's had a fall and managed to get to his panic button. The ambulance brought him in about half an hour ago.”

“Ok, have you called his other emergency contact?”

“Not yet -”

“I will. I'll do it. I'll be there in five minutes.” Seren hung up and flicked her eyes to her dash display to select River's name.

“I was just thinking about you,” he answered before she could get a word in. 

“He's had a fall. I'm on my way to the hospital,” she interrupted quickly. 

“Shit, ok, I'm on my way.”

“They said it wasn't serious but-” her voice cracked. 

“It’s going to be fine, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“I'll call you when I know more.” He hung up first, she could hear muttered swearing as the handset moved from his ear so he could end the call. After hastily abandoning her car in the first space she saw, she raced to the reception desk. “David Cartwright, please? Came in an ambulance, I was just speaking with someone?” The computer keyboard clicked as the receptionist tapped her manicured fingers on the keys.

“Ahh yes, he's on the Acute Medical unit, Lister Ward, follow signs for Red 3. You're going behind me, turn left and up the stairs.”

“Thanks!” Seren ran toward the stairs to the next reception desk where she repeated who she was. A nurse led her down the brightly lit corridor to a small ward of 4 beds. In the far corner by the window was David. She rushed for the bed, managing to stop and slow down as she reached the end of the bed. “David,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. She went to his bedside and took his hand carefully, taking note of the cannula in the back. She followed the tubes up to an IV bag. His hand felt small and weightless in hers, the skin paper thin and cool to touch. 

“You've cold hands, dear girl.” He said hoarsely. She closed her eyes in relief at the sound of his voice. 

“Cold hands, warm heart.” She told him, reaching her other hand out to brush his hair from his eyes. “What have you been up to? Silly man.”

“Thought I'd get the kettle on for us, came a cropper on the stairs.” She tsked him lightly with click of her tongue. 

“Shit, I need to tell River you're OK, he's bombing down the motorway,” she picked up her phone and found his number. “He's OK, awake and talking to me. I just need to find a nurse for an update. Lister ward, Red zone 3.” She told him quietly. River arrived as the nurse did. They all listened patiently as she explained that aside from some bruises from the fall, he was perfectly fine but they did want to keep him in for a few days as a precaution. Once the nurse had left, River was able to reach to embrace David. He could only watch Seren but he could see she was itching to be closer to him. 

“You allowed a coffee old man?”

“I bloody better be, I shall discharge myself if not.” He declared. 

“Seren?”

“Yeah, I'll pop to the bathroom and help you bring them back. Won't be long, no causing trouble,” she warned David. In the safety of the corridor, away from the doorway to the ward, River pulled Seren into his arms. 

“You ok?”

“Silly bugger scared the shit out of me, I think I got flashed I got here so fast.” She grumbled, taking a deep inhale of the soap from her bathroom mixed with his own scent. He kissed the top of her head and then lifted her chin to kiss her properly, more intimately than she'd expected in public. The nurse who'd spoken to them blushed as she manned the reception desk. 

“C'mon, let's get his coffee, I only got you out here so I could kiss you.” He reluctantly let her go and went to push coins into the machine.

“You don't have to stick around here all day, you know?” David told her, “someone else is babysitting, go and enjoy yourself.” Seren looked torn. 

“I mean it. And you, shouldn't you be back in London? I certainly don't need both of you here.” He turned his attention to River. 

“I could go and visit Maggie,” Seren wondered aloud.

“Go,” David smiled. “Do go, dear girl. I'm fine, really.” River watched the guilt gnawing at her, that she hadn't been there early enough in the morning to have prevented the fall. Despite what the nurse had said, the worry was still etched in her face. 

“You should go, I'll stay here.”

“No you won't, I already told you, back to work.” River grimaced. “Go on, off you go.”

“Ok, if you insist?” Seren stood up and helped him get more comfortable in the bed, smoothing out the blanket, pouring more water for him and getting the newspaper from her bag along with a pen. “I'll be back later this evening, call me if you want me to bring anything else?” River watched, awed by their bond, the shorthand in their conversation and Seren's clear love for his grandfather. She kissed his forehead and gave him a winning smile, disguising the worry. “Be good for the nurses.” 

“I'll walk out with you, if you're sure grandad?”

“I am indeed, leave me in peace with my crossword.” River gave his hand a squeeze and gestured for Seren to go ahead of him. She turned at the door to wave at David. 

“So… going to work?” She asked once they were in the corridor. 

“No way, I'm going wherever you're going.”

“Oh you are, are you? To visit Maggie then?”

“Lead the way. We can drop your car off at the house and I'll drive?”

“Something wrong with my car?”

“Apart from the music choices?” She arched an eyebrow, 

“Tread carefully, Cartwright.”

“3 speeding tickets in one week, you got flashed this morning, it sounds like the wheels are about to drop off… anything else? Is your engine light on this week?” She scowled. 

“Not this week, no. I did do a probably illegal u-turn this morning though.” 

“Probably illegal?” He teased, slinging an arm around her as they left the hospital. 

*

“Seren, darling!” Mags called across the sunroom of the care home the second she came into view. Seren let the older woman pull her into a bear hug deceptively strong for someone in their eighties. 

“Hello Mags. God, I've missed you.” Seren squeezed tighter until Maggie clocked River standing further back. 

“Oh! You've brought your handsome man with you!”

“My friend, Mags. River is my friend.” 

“Well friendship suits you dearie, you certainly never looked this happy when you were my friend.” Maggie said slyly. 

“What's all this ‘was’ your friend, I am your friend you daft old bat.” 

“Cheeky, I can have you kicked out. Leave the man behind though.”

“No chance. How've you been?”

“Sit, sit, both of you. Are the girls getting some tea? I'm not too bad,” she flapped. “Service could be better,” she grumbled, looking around for a member of staff. 

“I'm fine, really good. You look well?” River sat down next to Seren but held back as the women talked, only being drawn when Maggie insisted. Seren's relationship with Maggie was similar to the one she had with David, she loved them and cared for them as if they were her own grandparents. He found himself lost in a near future where David wasn't around any longer. Found himself wondering and then what? It hadn't occurred to him that one day, his only relationship with someone outside of work would no longer be there. He would essentially be alone. He missed what Seren said as she stood up and brushed his shoulder as she left the room, but Maggie soon dragged him back into the conversation. 

“You're very quiet darling. I'm sure he'll be just fine.” River frowned. “Your grandfather? Seren said you've both come from the hospital this morning?”

“Sorry, yes. Yeah I'm sure he'll be OK.”

“But you're not?” She mused. “Out with it, before she gets back?”

“He's all I've got. It just occurred to me that he's all I've got apart from a few colleagues I'm not sure I'd call friends.” His brow furrowed again. 

“You've got her,” she nodded over at Seren who was laughing with one of the staff members. Her smile was radiant. He shook his head. 

“We decided to keep it simple, nothing serious.” Maggie's chuckle turned into a cough. 

“If you say so, love.” Seren came back over and Maggie fell silent.

“Apparently they're about to take you through for afternoon tea, so we'll head out.”

“Wonderful to see you. Bring cake next time, theirs is shite.” 

“Love you, Mags. Be good.” Seren gave her a hug and once she was released, Maggie ordered River over. 

“Don't be a fool, young man,” she muttered quietly. “Lovely to see you both, off you pop now.” As they left the room with Maggie watching, Seren slipped her hand into his and squeezed. 

“Everything alright?” She asked, her voice laced with concern. He nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah fine.” She didn't look entirely convinced, but let it go. “I, uhh, I'm going to head back to London if you don't mind?” Seren shook her head slowly.

“Sure, ok. I'll get my car and go back to the hospital for an hour.” They drove back to David's in near silence with Seren trying to understand what had happened over the previous couple of hours to have caused River to retreat into himself so much. “I'll call you later?” She asked, confused and a little hurt.

“Yeah, let me know if he needs anything. Otherwise I'll be back in a couple of days when he's ready to be discharged.” Seren nodded, her smile tight. She got straight into her car and decided to head straight to the hospital, not wanting to be alone. 

River made it one junction up the motorway back to London before turning around and going to Seren's house. She arrived home to find him sitting on the doorstep. She stopped suddenly, almost falling over him. 

“Oh shit!” She yelped, “you scared me half to death. What are you doing here, I thought you were going home?” He got to his feet and moved aside so she could unlock the door. She pushed it open and let him through first. “River? I thought you were going home?”

“I did. I am.” He said softly. Seren frowned a little, unsure of his meaning. 

“Ok,” she said gently, “ok. Let's get some food, you must be freezing.” He followed her to the kitchen where he sat at the table while she pottered around cooking. “David's doing fine, I think they'll probably let him out tomorrow. There's no reason to keep him in and they need the bed space.” She chatted to him, filling the silence. “I know you must be worried, but he's honestly alright. I'm sure the nurses are sick of him already. He was struggling to remember who I was, but I think it's the unfamiliar surroundings. I spent two hours with him telling me about his wonderful grandson, and then as I was getting ready to leave, he recognised me.” He moved to stand behind her, his chin on her shoulder and arms looped around her waist. She turned a little to offer him a spoonful of the rich tomato sauce she'd made. He nodded his approval and kissed her lightly, feeling her relax in his arms. His silence had made her tense, he realised. “You know you can talk to me about anything?” She hesitated, not wanting to overstep. 

“Yeah.” She didn't push any further but handed him a plate of pasta. “I always thought he was invincible.” He admitted sadly. She held her breath, waiting for him to go on. “Having you here, he was doing so much better. I thought he'd be here forever.”

“He's still here,” she reminded him, taking his hand. 

“And when he's not? Then what?” She shook her head.

“I don't know,” she confessed. She pushed the food around her plate, her appetite gone. “He talks about you constantly,” she started. “All the bloody time, even when he's lost in the past. He loves you so much, River.” 

“I can count on one hand the number of times he’s said it.” He mumbled, trying to recall the last time he heard it from anyone. His grandmother, Rose, before she'd died most likely. When he looked up from the table to see Seren watching him, he expected to see pity in her eyes, but there was none. 

“Earlier,” she took a deep breath, “when I said I thought you were going home? You said you are.” She paused, halfway between wanting and not wanting an answer to the question hanging in the air. “What did you mean?” 

“I love you.” He said softly, realising that he hadn't said the words since his grandmother had died, let alone heard them. “I've spent all day wondering what will happen when he's gone, when I'm alone, where home is. But I shouldn't have, because I'm not alone.” She shook her head, the movement spilling tears down her cheeks.

“No, you're not.” She moved from her seat at the table and onto his lap, holding his face in her hands. “You're not alone, I love you.” She kissed him, her hands leaving his face to run through his hair. “God, you're such a fucking moron.” He laughed into her neck. 

“When I saw how much you care for him, and for Maggie… She told me. She said I'd got you too. I know I said we should just be able to walk away, no hard feelings, but I don't want that.”

“You've always had me, I'm not going anywhere.” She sighed, heavy with relief and finally relaxing into him. “We do need to work out what to tell him though?” He kissed her shoulder. 

“Mmm. Give me tonight, that's tomorrow's problem.”

*

“Watch your step,” Seren warned, holding David's elbow as he lifted himself out of River’s car. River came round from the driver’s side to take his other arm but was swiftly batted away. Seren bit her lip to disguise the smile.

“Watch my bloody step,” he grumbled. “You watch out, I can still tell Taverner I’ve had enough of you too.”

“Ahh but then she’ll send back Pete who can’t play chess.” River told him.

“Is he the one who drank IPA? Disgusting stuff. I couldn’t even get him to fetch me a decent bottle of scotch. Over my dead body will he be back.” David complained.

“I’m sure he wasn’t that bad.” Seren reasoned as River went ahead of them to unlock the door.

“He was.” They stepped over the threshold together, “and he couldn’t make coffee and walnut cake.” David beamed at the sight of the cake in the centre of the table.

“God, what a crime. Looks like you did the right thing getting me back.” Seren guided him to the sitting room. “Are you feeling ok?”

“I’m not breakable, dear. I’m fine. They let me out didn’t they?”

“Yeah cos they were sick of you.” River muttered under his breath so only Seren could hear, disguising her laugh with a cough.

“I heard that young man. Seren, would you cut that cake please?”

“No problem, tea?”

“Excellent.” He settled back in his armchair, making himself comfortable. In the kitchen, Seren set a tray with cake plates and mugs. She drifted towards River as he came in.

“S’good to have him back here.” She smiled. He took her hand and pulled her away from the tray and into his arms. 

“Yeah it is. Means I shouldn’t be kissing you in the kitchen anymore though,” he grumbled. She leaned up on tiptoes and grazed her lips against his.

“As if that stopped you before.” She challenged. 

“Put her down River, goodness me I may as well look after myself if you’re going to distract her constantly.” David chided from the doorway. Seren sprung from River’s arms, blushing furiously.

“Shit, David, I’m so sorry. I-”

“No need to be sorry, dear. Did you really think I didn’t know? I may be losing my mind but I’m certain my eyesight is perfectly fine. I did tell you, he was bound to have his head turned by a pretty girl. I’m just glad it’s you.” Seren’s mouth formed a perfect O shape. “Just getting a pen for the crossword, I’ll leave you both to it.” He wandered back to the sitting room. “Wouldn’t say no to that cake, though?” He shouted.

FIN

[daydreamgoddess14]

Here she is! ���

Ella Cole - the only reject at Slough House to view her banishment as a fresh start and a chance to change her life for the better. Ella never again wants to draw attention to herself the way she did at the Park, but the past has a nasty habit of catching up with even the most cautious of people, and Ella is about to find out that keeping herself distanced from everyone is no guarantee she can keep them safe.

Taglist: @theskytraveler @moonmaiden1996 @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

Masterlist

Warnings: *I want to be super clear on warnings so this might give away a handful of spoilers* Mentions & depictions of DV (not graphic or laboured), minor mentions of SV (not dubcon or rape, more like coercion and 'feeling obligated'), stalking, impact of all of this shit on a child, OFC is a single mother so there are depictions of motherhood. My inbox is open if you have any questions or want to talk 😘

The Escape Artist - Chapter 1

Six months. For Ella Cole, it had been six months of living hand to mouth, trying to pay for flats, bedsits or house shares with mould on the walls and mushrooms growing out of the carpet. Drug dealers on the stairs, unlicensed dogs barking night after night, bits of kids more than half her age with flick knives and vapes. She didn't bother them, and they didn't bother her. She knew this world and understood the ecosystem and flashpoints. She leaned against the front door and wiggled the key, the only way to get it to lock properly. It was still early, quiet in the stairwell bar one other person who kept his hood up and his hands deep in his pockets. 

“Lend us a tenner, El?” 

“I'm skint Dozzer, sorry.”

“Just till tomorrow?”

“No, Doz. Get down the clinic when they open, they can get you something to get you through the day.”

“Ain't allowed in there this week. ‘Ad a row with the security gaffer.” He sniffed.

“They'll kick you out for good if you keep that shit up. I've got to go, ask Mike.”

“Thanks anyway, bab.” She didn't see anyone else on the way out. The girls would still be sleeping, false lashes caked in mascara and lipstick stains bleeding into the soft lines around their mouths. She had to get out of this block, she'd only accepted it out of desperation. The black mould on the walls of the last place stank and it was wreaking havoc with her lungs. Putting her foot on a mushroom growing out of the carpet was the last straw, but after two months she'd also had enough of bumping into addicts and sex workers in the corridors, and she was sick of the girls pimp trying to enlist her. The fellas would love ya, you could make a killin’ babe he told her. Despite the early hour, the smell of weed in the building entrance was overwhelming. 

“Ugh.” A small voice next to her complained. She'd stayed quiet so far. She wasn't always keen on Dozzer, even less so when he was after money. 

“I know, baby, it's gross.” Ella wrapped her arm around her daughter's shoulders and guided her out into the street. “It's cold, zip your coat up.” If there was ever a reason to get out of their current accommodation situation, she was it. 

“Can we go to the cafe?”

“Not today, you're in breakfast club.” They navigated the street, avoiding puddles from the never-ending rain and bags of uncollected rubbish. Ella checked her watch, late again. She only had half an hour to get to the school and then on to Slough House. Lamb never said anything if she was late, just an arched eyebrow and withering stare. She still had no idea how much he knew - or didn't know - about her. She'd certainly not told him anything. She hadn't told any of them, six months of polite-ish conversation and pointed silence. Grabbing the girl's hand, Ella dashed out onto the pedestrian crossing outside the school. An approaching car slammed on its brakes and sounded the horn. Ella spun around to face the driver.

“It's a fucking crossing, you twat!” She yelled. The driver glared at her. The driver she recognised glared at her, and then quickly realised that they knew her. “Fucking hell, Cartwright, you trying to kill us?” She raised her middle finger and continued across the road and into the school gates. She waited at reception for the breakfast club staff and said her goodbyes. As she walked back towards the road, she saw his car parked up across from the school. He beeped the horn once and gestured for her to get in. 

“Sorry, I was miles away.” He said as she got into the passenger seat. 

“My own fault. I shouldn't have rushed us out.” She muttered. “We were running late.” He didn't say anything. He merged with the traffic and drove in silence to Slough House. “I didn't mean to call you a twat,” she said as he went to open his door once he'd parked up. 

“Yeah you did. You gave me the finger after you'd recognised me.”

“Yeah I did,” she replied sheepishly. “Can you umm… can you not tell anyone?”

“About giving me the finger?”

“About her.” 

“Sure.” He shrugged. “Does she… does she have a name? Am I allowed to know?”

“Thanks for the lift.” She ignored the question and slammed the car door, trudging up the death stairs of Slough House. 

“Oh, on time I see? Just about.” Lamb sneered. He perched on the edge of Ho's desk. 

“Just about is still on time,” she told him on her way past. 

“Fucking hell, a Cartwright on time as well. You pair are spoiling me today, am I dying?” He jeered as River shoved the heavy door open. 

“God I hope so.” River muttered, dragging himself up the stairs behind Ella. By the time he'd stopped off to see Louisa, Ella had made a cup of tea for herself only, and pulled on noise cancelling headphones. “Make my own then, shall I?” He dropped into his wobbly, missing-a-wheel office chair and got stuck into the files Catherine had left on his desk. An hour later, Ella looked up from her files to fingers clicking in her face. She frowned and pulled off the headphones. 

“Yes?”

“You haven't said anything for like, an hour.”

“I'm working?”

“Well, yeah but -”

“Did you want something?”

“Can I ask a question?” She didn't reply so he went ahead. “What's her name? How old is she?”

“That's two questions.” He waited, expectantly. “She's eight.” Ella sighed. 

“And?”

“You'll take the piss out of her name so I'm not telling you.”

“You really think I'm in a position to take the piss out of someone's name?” She pursed her lips to hide the small smile. 

“Her name is Clover.” She braced for laughter, or a derogatory sneer which didn't come. 

“It's nice.”

“Nice?”

“Yeah, cute. Very hippy, I don’t envy teenage Clover. Did you choose it?”

“I did. I thought… I hoped she'd bring me luck.”

“Is that why you're here? Bad luck?” She shook her head slightly and put the headphones back on. End of conversation. “Right. Good chat, at least twenty more words than usual so that's progress.” Her head had dipped again, back to the files. 

“Are you talking to yourself?” Shirley asked from the doorway. 

“No, I'm talking to… her,” he trailed off miserably when it was clear Ella wasn't listening at all. 

“Twat. Lamb wants you.”

“Two twats in one day. I am a lucky boy,” he sighed, leaving Ella alone. 

*

As much as Ella appreciated Clover's preference for the sex workers over the drug addicts in the small block of flats, it made it somewhat trickier to explain why she wasn't allowed to pop and show them her freshly painted nails - which they always loved to see - or why she couldn't hang out at their flat for any longer than it took to say hello in the corridor.

“Why do they always have visitors?” She grumbled, admiring the purple glitter polish Ella had let her have on for the weekend. 

“Because that's their job lovey, their visitors pay to come and… play games together.”

“Like monopoly?”

“Something like that.” Ella mumbled, head halfway in the oven which wouldn't light. She idly wondered how long the gas would take to kill her, then she remembered she hadn't paid the bill. “Shit.”

“What's up?”

“McDonald's for tea. Get your shoes on.” Ella sat back on the kitchen floor, stained with god knows what, and always sticky no matter what miracle cleaning products she brought. It had to get better than this. Surely it had to get better than this. She gritted her teeth, breathing in short huffs to try and keep the tears at bay. She'd felt a pang of terror after giving away Clover's name to Cartwright. For six months she'd been so careful, not daring to speak about her to anyone just in case, just in case, it somehow reached other ears. She had no way of knowing who Cartwright was in with. He appeared above board, but didn't they all? In sleep deprived delirium, she'd even researched how to change Clover's name via deed poll. She hadn't slept properly for nearly a week, hadn't paid the gas bill, but she had a fiver in her pocket and a handful of change - enough for a kids meal and maybe something for herself if she was lucky. She leaned into the door and wiggled the key, and led Clover out, passed the congregation of kids on the stairs and straight into the girl's pimp.

“Alright, El? Still got a job for you if you want it?”

“No thank you Pav, payday on Monday. I'm sure I'll get by til then.”

“A loan then? You don't even have to pay me back in cash,” Pawel Wójcik leered at Ella, a rolled cigarette caught between his teeth. 

“Nope.”

“They love a milf ya know? Could get you forty quid a go?” Forty quid sounded like a lottery win but Ella stood fast. She held Clover's hand tightly.

“Bye, Pav.” She kept it polite, always kept it polite. He wasn't a man she wanted to upset or demean, she didn't have to work for him, he still had the ability to make her life miserable. She hadn't realised how much of a sliding scale ‘miserable’ was. She'd been miserable before but at least they'd been warm and well fed. She hadn't had pimps offering her work or addicts asking for cash. Bills were paid, and Clover had her own room. It wasn't going to be for long, she soothed. She was fighting hand over fist to get back the security deposit from the flat before. The letting company were trying to lay the blame for the mould on her and were holding onto the deposit to pay for the flat to be cleaned. Another call on Monday to get them to pay up and once they did she'd be back on her feet again. Assuming she made it to Monday. They huddled in bed together, even with the lack of sleep Ella finally felt peace. Her baby in her arms, too old really to be sleeping in her mother’s bed but when there was only one bed the options were limited. Ella thought it funny how Clo proclaimed to be a big girl who wanted her own room back, her own bed back, but who suddenly became so small again when it came to bedtime. Her stomach rumbled, the small burger she’d managed to scrape together the change for wasn’t really enough. She hoped the girls down the hall would be up in the morning, they usually had plenty of bread for toast. Pawel wouldn’t allow them to go hungry, it was bad for business when the sounds of hunger got in the way of the blow jobs. 

“Fuck me, you look like shit.” Sofia told her the next morning through a cloud of cigarette smoke.

“Can we borrow some bread til tomorrow?”

“Sofia, look at my nails!”

“Oh Clo, they look beautiful! Why don’t you ladies come in for a cuppa.”

“You don’t have any visitors?”

“Nah, we’re free til lunchtime. Don't expect to see Lulu though, she's sleeping off a big night.” Clo raced through the flat to the plush pink velvet sofa and flicked on the TV. Sofia put a gentle hand on Ella’s arm. “Rough week?”

“Awful. I need to call that letting agent again tomorrow, if I had that money back we’d have a safety net. I wouldn’t be hunting for fucking change to take to McDonalds.”

“Can you even pay cash there anymore?” Sofia put a huge mug of tea down on the table. Ella cleared her throat, nodding over at the draining board which was laden with dildos. “Sorry, washing up. I’ll hide these.”

“Please don’t make me explain to an eight year old what a dildo is.” Ella grimaced. With the dildos away, a plate piled high with buttered toast made its way to the table. Ella ate until she felt sick.

“Better?”

“Thank you. I’m sorry we had to come to you.”

“Don’t be. I’d rather look after you two than a fifty year old on viagra,” she shuddered. “Heart attack waiting to happen - and my first aid at work is not up to date.”

“You haven’t heard anything?”

“If he’s out, everyone’s keeping it quiet. I’ll tell you if I hear otherwise.” As Ella left, Sofia pushed a twenty pound note into her hand. 

“I can't take -”

“You can, you will.”

“I'll pay you back.”

“You won't. I've been there babe, I promise it'll be worth it.”

*

“Cole, with me.” Lamb ordered as lunchtime drew near on Monday. Ella's face fell, she'd planned a Subway payday treat before her wages were swallowed by bills and school clubs. She glanced over at River who shrugged and then followed Lamb outside, down the stairs and round the corner into the Chinese restaurant. His usual order was on the table already. “Whatever the girl wants.” He told the staff.

“Oh, no I'm fine.”

“You ain't paying, I know you’re broke.” Ella blushed. “Saw you nicking biscuits from Ho's desk for breakfast last week.” 

“Chow mein please.” She mumbled, eyes tracing the red gingham tablecloth.

“Get her some other bits as well, will ya? Put it on my tab. Now, what I'm trying to work out is why you're so broke. It's not the old fizzy lifting powder, you're not as twitchy as Dander. Longridge is the resident gambler -”

“Just had a few big bills this month.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why are you asking me? You could just find out from the Park. Or Ho.”

“I'm asking you,” he said sternly. After a few sloppy bites of noodles, he softened. “Look, you don't seem as brain dead as the rest of the idiots upstairs. You've done everything I've asked for six months, and stuff I haven't asked for, you haven't complained, you've had your head down and got it done. Some people far more stupid than me might actually think you were enjoying it.”

“Believe it or not, I am.”

“But why?” She pushed the chow mein around her plate. 

“I was married. I am married, actually. He's a big deal in organised crime, moves things around, makes things disappear. Money, drugs, people, gold, you name it. The Park were watching the gang, he made me doctor some images and change some tracking details to throw them off. Taverner found out it was me.”

“Did they get him?”

“Only on a lesser charge. A few of the lads went down for him on the big stuff.”

“He’s a bully then. Must be if he got his underlings to go down for him?” Ella swallowed thickly. 

“Yeah. He doesn't like… disobedience.” 

“Where is he now?”

“Serving a year, but he might be out by now.”

“And Taverner sent you to me. Why didn't she have you charged?”

“My dad is a copper. Between them they made it go away.”

“Bet daddy dearest was happy about that.”

“I wouldn't know, I haven't seen him for years.”

“Disowned and yet he still saved you from the clink, eh?”

“Something like that.”

“What a pickle you're in. A fallen woman, pushed from a life of luxury into squalor. You should write a book. Make sure there's lots of pictures though, otherwise Cartwright won't be able to read it.” He laughed loudly at his own joke and followed it up with a belch. “C'mon eat up. Will he come after you?” 

“I've been staying low, I know a few people who are listening out for me,” Ella thought of Sofia and Lulu, teasing any snippets of information from clients they knew of who had links to him. Lamb nodded, seemingly happy enough with her response. 

“We'll see, shall we? And the money?”

“I ran away with nothing. I've had to get deposits and advance rent together, it's just been a bit hard that's all.”

“Let's call this your six month probationary review, eh? Congratulations, you've passed and it comes with a payrise effective right now.” He pulled a battered wallet from his pocket and handed her a wad of notes.

“No, that's not right -”

“You're on less than the others, even Dander and she's only about twelve. Someone fucked up on payroll. Accept it and say thank you, Lamb.”

“Thank you, Lamb.”

“You're welcome, now this ain't a fucking charity so that's your lot. Sort your shit out and don't bring it to my door.” Ella hesitated, feeling like she should acknowledge Clover somehow. 

“Just so you know, if everything did go to shit -”

“Oh fuck off, Standish can keep your fucking cat if the ex offs you.”

“I have a daughter.” Lamb stared. 

“What do you want? A medal?” His cutlery clattered onto the empty plate. “Alright. Say no more.”

“Thank you.” 

“Don't get all fucking weepy, you're better than that. Pull yourself together and get back to work.” Ella nodded and got up from the table, leaving Lamb alone with the leftovers and his thoughts. 

*

Feeling  buoyed by her conversation with Lamb, Ella took advantage of Cartwright going to get a coffee and called the letting agent. She was halfway through giving them an earful when he returned. She knew he was eavesdropping, the page he was reading hadn't turned despite only having a handful of text on it. Unless Lamb had been right and he couldn't read. 

“Look, you owe me that money, that flat was not fit to be lived in. I have photos from the day I moved in, I have my hospital records which show I had three successive chest infections caused by black mould and I have a solicitor who specialises in getting deposits back from fraudulent landlords. I will put those pictures on every single platform I can and tell everyone that you're putting children at risk.” She kept her voice low but it dripped with anger. The monotonous voice on the end of the phone barely registered her threats. Ella balled her hand into a fist and bit down on it to keep from shouting. She didn't notice River get up from his desk until he was leaning over hers to pluck the phone from her ear. 

“Pay her the fucking money back or I'll be down your office in an hour with the police.” Ella stared, River listened to the response. “I don't give a shit how long it's supposed to take, it's taken long enough.” There was silence again while he waited, tapping his long fingers on her desk. She watched his hand, not daring to look up at him. “Thank you.” He handed her the phone. “Check your account,” he left the call connected while Ella opened her banking app. Her jaw dropped, confirming the payment had been received. He took the phone back again, “That's come through. See how easy it was? Don't let it happen again.” When he passed her the phone again, she flinched. “Sorry, I shouldn't have interfered.”

“It's fine. Thank you.”

“You should go and get the cash out, hang on to it.” Ella frowned. Her new cash is king world was still taking some adjustment. She'd been so used to waving a platinum credit card, her phone, her watch, at a pin machine. She was amazed at how quickly she'd become frugal. The watch and her latest model phone - traded in for a basic handset - had been sold to buy a bed.

“Yeah, you're probably right.” She sighed heavily, an odd feeling settling in her chest that she couldn't quite place. Relief. For the first time in months she felt relieved. 

 

She didn't abandon her vigilance entirely, but between telling Lamb and Cartwright - a duo she never envisaged being remotely trustworthy - the bare minimum, she relaxed enough to be able to sleep at night. She ensured that her private life remained completely private. No one but Lamb knew of her ex, and no one else other than Lamb and Cartwright knew about Clover, and she intended to keep it that way. But she found herself drawn to swapping book recommendations with Catherine, and even the constant arguments between Marcus and Shirley occasionally raised a smile. And then of course, there was Lamb. 

“Turnock’s fucking teacakes?”

“They were out of jaffa cakes.”

“And you see me eatin’ marshmallow do ya?”

“Don’t turn your nose up. What’s the suitable alternative?”

“I dunno Cole, use your brain. Knew I shouldn't have told you you had half an extra brain cell than the others.”

“Hobnobs. Shall I get you some hobnobs?”

“Fucking hobnobs,” Lamb grumbled, pouring a scotch from the fresh bottle he pulled out from the bag. “Least you got the scotch.”

“As if I'd leave you hanging there.” Ella put her hand on the box of teacakes, intent on taking them back downstairs to have one with a cup of tea.

“Leave the teacakes.” He eyed her though the bottom of the glass.

“Thought so.”

“Jaffa cakes tomorrow or you’re out of here. Got it?”

“Jaffa cakes tomorrow.” She agreed. He ripped open the box.

“Oi here y’are.” She caught the airborne red and silver wrapped teacake he threw at her and beamed.

“Cheers, Lamb.”

“Off you fuck, work to do.” Ella slipped through his office door and gave Catherine a wave on her way down the stairs. She managed to find two reasonably clean mugs and made tea, popping one on the desk next to hers and one on her own desk. Headphones on, she unwrapped the chocolate covered marshmallow and took a bite.

“Bit early isn’t it?” 

“Cartwright, there is no early when chocolate is involved.” She dragged off the headset and let it hang around her neck.

“Did you get me one?” 

“Nope.” 

“So that’s how it is?”

“I made you tea.” She popped the last bite into her mouth and nodded at his desk. Next to the mug of tea was a packet of hobnobs. He smiled, small, but a smile nonetheless.

“Thanks, Cole. Still sucking up to Lamb?”

“It’s not sucking up, he actually likes me. You’ll never know what that feels like.” She put her hand to her heart and pouted. “Sucks to be you.”

“See all you've done there is lure yourself into a false sense of security,” he opened the packet and snapped a biscuit in half, dunking it in the tea, “he doesn’t like anyone.” Catherine made her way through the maze of offices with a pile of files. 

“Morning you two. Thank you for the book, Ella, very enjoyable. These are tax returns from the early 90s relating to the Havilland job.”

“Love a dodgy tax return,” Ella gratefully received her half. “I'll bring you the next in the series if you like?”

“Lovely, I've passed the first one onto Louisa.”

“That's great, I told her she'd love it.” Ella smiled. River frowned. 

“Since when is anyone actually nice to each other around here?” He muttered holding the second half of his biscuit in the tea for a fraction too long. It broke off with a solemn plop into the liquid. “Bollocks.” Since Lamb had taken a chance, Ella thought to herself. Since she'd allowed herself to feel the tiniest modicum of joy that she'd managed to escape from hell and had survived. It was far better than the self-flagellation she'd gone for originally, there might be a mountain to climb but she had to celebrate the achievement of making it to base camp. That evening, come 5pm, there was a mass exodus from Slough House and after six shit months and one less shit, almost verging on normal month, Ella felt able to actually smile at her colleagues as they departed. She walked down the slippery stairs with River, into the evening rain. 

“See you Monday,” she said, opening her umbrella. He was looking past her at the bus stop. “Oi, dickhead, see you Monday?”

“Yeah, Monday.” His brow furrowed as he looked not quite at her, his attention still on the bus stop.

“Cartwright?”

“Do you need a lift to the school? It's pissing down.”

“No thanks, I'll live. You're going to the pub with Louisa anyway.”

“You should come next time.” He said, finally looking directly at her. 

“We'll see. I should go.” 

“Have a good one.”

“You too.” He watched her leave, walking in the opposite direction of the bus stop where the figure he'd been watching had vanished. 

Chapter 2

[daydreamgoddess14]

Taglist: @theskytraveler @moonmaiden1996 @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Warnings: *I want to be super clear on warnings so this might give away a handful of spoilers* Mentions & depictions of DV (not graphic or laboured), minor mentions of SV (not dubcon or rape, more like coercion and 'feeling obligated'), stalking, impact of all of this shit on a child, OFC is a single mother so there are depictions of motherhood. My inbox is open if you have any questions or want to talk 😘

Thank you so much for all the love so far! I had a feeling before the finale that this could be a great companion to Season 4, and I was right! Really, really hope you're enjoying it - I'd love to hear from you if you are!

The Escape Artist - Chapter 2

River Cartwright had reached the end of an equally challenging six months. Louisa placed a beer bottle down on the table in front of him and clinked the neck of hers against it. 

“You're drinking less.” 

“Hmm. Yeah, trying to.”

“Good. Catherine was one more bottle away from a full intervention.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” he claimed weakly.

“Yeah Riv, you were.” She told him sadly. He didn’t meet her eyes, though at least the pity in them had lessened over the last few months.

“Cole seems to be coming out of her shell a bit.”

“Lamb’s taken a shine to her.”

“He’s a softy really.” River scoffed at Louisa’s comment. “He is. He was worried about you.”

“Right, course he was.”

“Fine, don’t believe me.” She shrugged. “It’s not until the shit hits the fan that we realise that we do actually like each other. If only a little bit.”

“Speak for yourself,” he knew she was right. He’d seen it himself when Lamb had summoned him to the pub. Underneath the biting remarks and veil of sarcasm was the backbone of Slough House. The reason none of them, despite their claims otherwise, actually tried or wanted to leave. Unless it was in a box. They all remained unwaveringly at his side. His treatment of Ella was a little more revealing though, similar in a lot of ways to his high regard of Louisa. Above all, regardless of their flaws - and there were many, many flaws - Lamb protected his Joe’s and though he’d never admit it, he cared for them.

“Want to know what I think?” She demanded, leaning forward on her arms to get in his face.

“I think you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“I am. You’re angry, I get it,” he rolled his eyes and tried to move back in his seat away from her fixed gaze. “I do. I’m angry too, every fucking day. But River, you have to live. You have to allow yourself to have a life and friends - even if it’s just the dickheads we work with. Otherwise, what’s the fucking point?” She sighed, her shoulders dropping. “Just… just stop sodding drowning in this anger and loneliness and let us in. It doesn't matter who your father is, or what your mum did. It matters how you were raised, that's why you feel so guilty for putting him in a home.” Her voice cracked and he finally looked back up. “I won’t let you do this to yourself. He's OK, he's safe there and he will forgive you, got it?” He nodded silently and she slumped back in her seat. “Good. God, you’re such a knob.”

“Thanks.” He picked at the label on his bottle, “what do you make of Cole then?”

“She’s good, very good. Whatever happened at the Park must’ve been big to get her sent to Lamb.”

“I think someone’s following her.” He said quietly. Louisa frowned and leaned in again.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.” River had lost track of the number of times he’d seen the figure at the bus stop. A cold shudder ran down his back as he recalled Jed and his bus stop watching ways. London was packed to the hilt with commuters, the man could be anyone he’d reasoned initially. But then, he couldn’t help but notice him every single time.

“Shit. Have you told her?”

“And say what? ‘Don’t want to freak you out, but I think you’ve got a stalker’?”

“Could be someone from the Park? You need to find out more about her.”

“Me? He baulked, “why not you?”

“You share an office with her. Be friendly.”

“I am friendly,” he grumbled into his beer bottle. 

“Be nicer. Give her those big eyes and cute smile. You never know, it might be a cure for loneliness.”

“Thanks for that,” he responded, mildly offended.

“I do mean it though, if you’ve noticed someone then we should keep an eye out.”

“Yeah, yeah we should. Think we should tell Lamb?”

“Probably better telling Cole first?” Louisa reasoned, sinking her beer.

*

“Earth to Cartwright?” He tore himself from the window to see Ella with her arms above her head trying to get a box of files down from the high shelf he’d put them on. “Any danger of you actually helping?” She’d leaned her whole body into the filing cabinets to stop the box from falling on her head, her voice muffled from leaning on her arms.

“Fuck, yes,” he dashed forward and reached from behind her to grab the box, squashing her further into the cabinet as he did so.

“Ouch, thanks?”

“Sorry, sorry.” He dumped the box on her desk.

“Cheers. Right, I need a coffee before I get started on that lot. Want one?” He dug around in his pocket and handed her a tenner, “I’ve got these,” she told him, pulling on a jacket.

“No, go on.”

“Cartwright, it’s fine, really.” She glared at him, ignoring the money. She had seemed better recently, he thought as he heard Shirley reeling off an order from the next room. As he heard the bottom door slam, he took up his spot by the window again and watched as the man at the bus stop started to follow Ella down the street. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her yet, he’d pointed the man out to Louisa though, who was also on alert. His phone pinged in his pocket, a message from Louisa who was clearly also wasting time at the window.

He’s followed her to the shop, we have to tell her.

Ella came back twenty minutes later with a cardboard tray of four coffees and a bag of doughnuts.

“My fucking hero.” Shirley cooed. Ella nudged hers and River's door open with her hip.

“Everything ok?” He asked as soon as she was in the room.

“Thanks for the coffee, Ella?” She filled in for him.

“Thank you. Is everything ok?” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” She frowned, sliding the tray onto his desk.

“Just… anything weird going on?”

“Apart from you?” He huffed. “No, Cartwright. I went five minutes down the road, ordered four coffees and a bag of doughnuts and then I came back. Nothing weird. Why?”

“I think someone’s following you.” He spat out quickly. Her eyes widened and the coffees nearly went flying as she rushed to the window.

“What makes you say that?” She asked, the fear in her voice evident. He watched her frantically glancing at the street below, taking in the faces of everyone milling around. Louisa had followed Ella and remained in the doorway. She scowled at River,

“Ever heard of tact, Cartwright?”

“You told me to tell her,” he said defensively and then turned back to Ella. “I thought I saw someone as you went to the coffee shop.”

“Are they down there now?” She demanded. When she realised he was nowhere near the window she stalked back across the room to him and pulled him by the wrist. “Look, are they down there? How long have you both known?”

“Cole, what’s going on?” Louisa asked carefully, making her way to the window.

“One of you tell me now, is he there?” she hadn’t let go of River’s wrist. “Please?” He scanned the street, the usual bus stop, Louisa peered over Ella’s shoulder to take a look as well.

“No. No they’re not there now. It must have just been a coincidence.” He tried to sound reassuring.

“I can’t see anyone either.” Louisa confirmed.

“You’re fucking spies? Cartwright, if you think you saw someone then you saw someone, right?” She dropped his hand and brought her own up to her mouth and heaved. “Fuck, I’m gonna -” she bolted through the door to the bathroom. 

“I don’t do puke, I’ll leave you to it. Since you’re doing so well at all of this,” Louisa waved a hand around disdainfully. 

“Thanks a lot, real helpful.” He muttered. He left Ella alone until the sounds of her retching had passed, then knocked gently on the door. 

“Got you some water?” The door unlocked and opened enough for him to hand her the bottle. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m ok. Thank you for the water,” her voice trembled.

“Is there anything I can do? I can get Louisa back?”

“No. No, there’s nothing either of you can do.” He took a seat with his back against the wall and waited, the door still closed between them. “You can go now,” she told him in a small voice. He didn’t move. When she finally opened the door, she nearly tripped over him. “Thought I told you to leave me?” She muttered furiously, a small hiccup giving away the fact that she’d been crying. She pushed past him to her desk where she retrieved a packet of chewing gum and shoved a couple of pieces into her mouth.

“Wanted to make sure. You know, you can let me know if -”

“Where the fuck are dumb and dumber?” Lamb’s bellow filled the corridors.

“Wonder who he means?” River asked aloud.

“Cartwright, I mean you and Cole. Arses up here now.”

“Now you know,” she shrugged. “You're dumber, by the way.” She pushed open Lamb’s door timidly and he looked at her for a long minute without a word. She brushed her hands over her cheeks, self consciously getting rid of any tears still visible. It took River clearing his throat for him to shift his attention.

“I want the pair of you to take these files to Molly.” He pointed to two wheeled boxes by his door. “Cartwright, get them downstairs. Cole, sit.” Once River had moved the boxes to the top of the stairs, he turned back to Ella. “Alright?” River heard him ask. 

“Yeah, think so.”

“Think? Don’t do too much of that. You’ll get an aneurysm.”

“I can only dream of such a happy ending,” she muttered.

“I’m serious, you’re not bringing shit to my door are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Good, now fuck off before Cartwright gets lost on the stairs.”

“You give him too much credit.” Ella smiled at Lamb’s booming laugh as she left.

“How do you make him laugh?” River asked dismally.

“Told you, he likes me.” Between them, they got the boxes to the entry door and then onwards down the metal stairs and into the street. Neither of them acknowledged that they were both on high alert looking out for whoever River had seen. She felt him tense next to her and startled at the faintest graze of his hand in the small of her back.

“3 o’clock,” he muttered. She looked left. “That’s 9. Do you need a watch?”

“Do you need a slap?” She looked right instead.

“Green cap, blue jacket.” She didn’t acknowledge him. “Well?”

“No idea.”

“No idea what? Do you see him?”

“Is that who you -”

“What do you mean no idea?” He demanded.

“I mean I have no idea who he is. Is that who you’ve seen?” He nodded brusquely. “I don’t know him.” She confirmed confidently. Ella spotted a bus pulling up ahead and for the second time that day grabbed River’s wrist and pulled him with her. “C’mon, I’m not walking for an hour.” They wedged onto the packed bus, just about finding two seats together with enough space to squeeze the boxes in front of them. Their knees bumped together in motion with the bus all the way to Waterloo. With his thigh pressed against hers and his arm around the back of her seat to give them both some extra space, River felt Ella relax. He tried not to think about how comforting it felt to have another person leaning into him. He especially tried not to think about the twinkle he’d only recently started to see in her eyes. At Waterloo, he made her get off the bus and walk the rest of the way, across the bridge and down Millbank to the imposing Thames House building. Molly welcomed them quite literally with open arms.

“Ella Cole! My god, you look…”

“Terrible?”

“I do have some manners,” she scolded Ella. “But you are looking a little on the pasty side. How are you?”

“Doing better, thank you.” Ella glanced briefly at River who pretended to not be listening. Molly’s eyes twinkled in understanding.

“Good. It’s good to see you.”

“You too. How’s the lair?”

“Just call me batman, darling.” She swiftly turned her attention to River. “And you're looking better since I last saw you.” 

“Yeah. Molly, I wanted to apologise -”

“Don't you dare. It's not your place to apologise on behalf of that man, you did nothing wrong.”

“Lamb told you?” He guessed. 

“They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had, and add some extra, just for you,” she quoted. River stared after her as she turned her chair in the direction of the stacks. “Come on then you two.” She gave very strict instructions on which files to put where, putting them to good use. “Be a dear, Cartwright, and take these down to the last aisle please?” He blanched at the request but gathered up the files and took them to the furthest end of the room. “He’s a good lad really.”

“He’s not so bad.” Ella mused, putting her own files into much closer aisles. 

“Come back soon,” she ordered them as they stepped back into the lift to leave.

“Bye Mol, see you again.” River offered her a genuine smile which she returned. “She seems to like you. They all do.” He said to Ella as the lift closed. 

“I’m nice, not grumpy all the time.” 

“Are you… you barely said a word for six months? Are you for real?” He stared in disbelief.

“I just needed to settle in.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, and now I can’t get you to shut up.”

“Why do you have to be such a dickhead?” She nudged him with her shoulder, a smile pulling at her mouth.

“C’mon, I’ll get you a coffee to make up for the one you didn’t get to drink earlier.” They queued up at a coffee van at the side of the Thames. Ella, to River’s disgust emptied two sachets of sugar into hers.

“I need some sugar,” she explained as her phone rang in her pocket. “Back in a sec.” She moved away, over to the railings, and paced while she spoke on the phone. River watched the tension in her shoulders increase by the second. She seemed to close in on herself before his eyes and as she made her way back to the bench, she looked like an entirely different person.

“What is it?” She ignored him, picking up her coffee which shook in her hands. “Ella?” He asked quietly. She sighed at the sound of her first name falling from his mouth.

“It’s nothing.”

“Liar.” She glanced around the people nearby and then back at him.

“Apparently the bloke in the green cap is someone I should know.” 

“How’d you mean?” River frowned. He watched her shutdown, her good humour and the twinkle in her eye disappear.

“I can’t,” she looked around furtively. Almost fearfully. “I can’t explain. It’s complicated.” He recognised the walls immediately, identical to the ones he’d built. She got up from the bench and hovered impatiently, waiting for him. “Can we go now?” He followed her diligently as she marched back across the bridge to Waterloo and straight onto a waiting bus. She was more closed in on the journey back, he could see her recoiling away from him. She held her body taut so her leg didn’t brush against his. Outside Slough House, green cap, blue jacket stepped across them.

“Mrs Cole. I’m Danny, can I talk to you for a moment please?” He looked River up and down, “alone.” He added. 

“He said he'd sent you.” She said wearily, correcting her posture and standing straight.

“He called you. I'm glad he did. But this isn’t a conversation for your friend to hear,” he must have noted the fear in Ella’s eyes. “You’re perfectly safe Mrs Cole. He’d never want any harm to come to you.” She nodded once and turned to River.

“It’s ok Cartwright, I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She told him firmly, he went to protest but she gave a tiny shake of her head. He did as she asked and turned to leave. Green cap, blue jacket took her elbow firmly and half dragged her into the nearest cafe. River waited out of sight in the doorway of the Chinese where he had a direct view of Ella in between the menus and posters stuck to the window. He had no intention of leaving, as she’d requested. She had her head in her hands and when she looked up at the man, he could tell she’d been crying. She shook her head, clearly responding ‘no’ to something she’d been asked but the longer River watched, the more hesitant she appeared. As the conversation looked to be wrapping up, River went to wait at the bottom of the stairs. When Ella rounded the corner and spotted him, she sighed. “What are you doing?”

“Thought I should stick around, in case you were in trouble?” He told her earnestly.

“I don’t need protecting, Cartwright.”

“Want to explain why some bloke who’s been stalking you just wanted a quick chat then?”

“Not really.”

“C’mon, Cole. Something’s going on. You’re married, for one? And the phone call?” She brushed past him and headed up the stairs, leaving him to follow behind. She was scrambling around her desk, throwing her notebook, phone and anything else she needed into her bag like a woman possessed. “Cole, just stop a minute -” she went to dart past him between his desk and the filing cabinets when his hand came down on top, blocking her path. She flinched immediately, almost cowering from him, and suddenly it all clicked into place. He recalled every time she'd curled inward at raised voices in the office, the way she startled and jumped every time he - or anyone - was in her personal space, the eggshells she constantly seemed to be treading on. “Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't know -”

“You don't know anything. Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong.”

“Am I? Then why do you look so scared?” He moved his arm, clearing her escape route. “Ella,” he said softly, “I'm not going to hurt you. I never would.” She looked up from her feet, he could see the shame and embarrassment blooming on her cheeks. “Talk to me?” She shook her head adamantly. 

“I can't. I can't, I have to keep Clo safe. You don't understand,”

“Help me, then?” She closed her eyes, he imagined her weighing up in her mind the pros and cons of telling him. “Please, Ella? I’ve been fucking shit around here for six months, I’ve been the shittest person to share an office with and I know, I know you have no reason to trust me or believe me. But I want to help you?” He pleaded.

“He's the reason I'm here,” she whispered, tearfully.

“Green cap?” 

“No, he’s just an… associate. He was sent by my ex, Clover’s dad.”

“What happened?” 

“I covered for him. Got the Park off him when they started looking into him.”

“Fuck, El,” he dragged a hand over his face. 

“Don't, don't be nice to me. I don't deserve it. I chose to be part of it, I fucked up and Taverner found out. She sent me here.”

“They didn't arrest you?” She dropped into his office chair, unprepared for the missing wheel, and nearly tipped the whole thing over. River steadied her quickly and sank onto his knees before her. 

“Dad's a copper. They made it go away, sent me here. I haven't seen him for years, he's never even met Clo. I didn't know Taverner had contacted him til they were kicking me out.” Ella put her head in her hands and sighed. “I met him when I was seventeen. Ran away with him, he was older - in his late twenties. He covered up his work for years, I didn't know about any of it. I got a low level job at the Park and he told me to go for it because he knew in the long run it would benefit him in some way. Then he got more and more controlling and involved me in his work, and by then it was too late to get out. I was pregnant with Clo, I had nowhere to go.” Her voice shook, “he'd have killed me. So I just carried on playing the dutiful gangland wife until he got caught and there was only so much of his shit I could hide.” 

“Fuck me. How'd you get out?”

“They got him on a minor charge, something really stupid, and he went to prison. I got away as soon as he went down. But it's not enough,” she rolled her eyes, “he was always going to find me. I just hoped I'd have longer to come up with a plan.” 

“Is that what green cap wanted?”

“To tell me he's out tomorrow and wants to see me,” she nodded. “No doubt wants us back together. He won't let Clo go without a fight, he told me he'd call social services and tell them I drink and take coke around her. If he can't have her, he won't let me.” She rubbed her forearm absentmindedly and River noticed a small scar. She saw him looking and pulled her sleeves down, he hadn't noticed how close they were, she'd leaned towards him on her elbows and he'd raised up on his knees to maintain eye contact with her. She looked away, blushing. “Sorry, I shouldn't have dragged you into this.” He cleared his throat and sat back on his heels.

“I'm glad you told me,” he said sincerely. “What can I do?” 

“Nothing. I’m serious, you can’t do anything about this. I just need you to keep it quiet. The best I can do is try not to bring any shit to Lamb’s door.”

“He knows?” He thought back to the conversation he’d overheard earlier.

“He knows some stuff, same as you.”

“Will he hurt you?” He asked quietly through gritted teeth. Ella hesitated, refusing to meet his eyes. “He will, won't he?”

“Nah,” she tried to sound convincing. “He'll be fine. He'll understand why I left.” She assured him. When she looked at him again, the walls were firmly back in place and she was back on her guard. 

“Ella -” she waved a hand to interrupt him. 

“It's going to be fine, really. Thank you, River.” 

“That's the first time you've called me River.”

“I'm sure it's not,” she brushed off. 

“It is. It definitely is.”

“First and last time then,” she said with a small smile. 

“Hopefully not.” He got to his feet, his ankle clicking painfully as he did. “Ow, fuck.”

“Must be all that running you're so good at.”

“Funny, very funny.”

“I need to go.” 

“Will you be back?” He asked curiously. 

“Course I will,” she nodded firmly. “Slow horses couldn’t keep me away,” she told him, rolling her eyes. He wasn’t sure he believed her.

*

Unsurprisingly, Lamb was already in the pub. Fresh from a marginally less stressful visit to the home, River slid onto the barstool next to him, as had become their routine over the last seven months.

“Old bastard still alive?”

“For another day at least. I did get a bit less shit from him this time though.”

“Maybe he’s starting to enjoy those sponge baths.” Lamb teased. River grimaced into his glass.

“Gross, please don’t say shit like that.”

“Molly alright?”

“You told her about Frank?”

“I tell her a lot of stuff. She’s one of the good ones.” River hummed in agreement.

“I’ve found some things out today,” he started, keeping his intentions vague. “Some things I think you also know? About Cole.”

“Ahh yes. Our little gangland belle. She told you, did she?”

“We met an associate of her ex. Apparently he’s getting out tomorrow, he wants to see her.”

“I’m sure he does. He’ll want to know what she’s been up to while he’s been inside.”

“What can we do?”

“Nothing, Cartwright. We can’t do anything unless she asks us to.” They drank in silence, River raised his hand to request another round. ”Keep an eye on her though, eh?” Lamb added, River nodded.

“Will do.”

Chapter 3

[annaelizabethhenry1]

Spy Royale

Summary: River Cartwright finally may have found a way out of Slough House when a minor member of the Royal Family is hit with death threats and needs protection. The posh socialite Lady Alice Highgrove is niece to the King and isn’t keen on having some government lacky tagging along after her all day, crimping her style. However, when it becomes very apparent someone is indeed trying to off her, she and River are left untangling a web of deceit that goes back to a very unsuspecting place. Question is will they be able to figure it out before it’s too late for both of them?

Warnings: Violence similar to the show/books and cursing and bodily functions from Jackson Lamb ;-) River Cartwright x OC. As to spoilers I’m trying to stick to the end of season one as the pick-up point of this story so more people can enjoy it.

Word Count: 2,481

Chapter One

River Cartwright huffed up the creaky staircase of Slough House balancing a case of copy paper that had just been delivered.

“Catherine! Where do you want the paper to go? Copy room or your office?”

River started when she soundlessly appeared in front of him from the opposite end of the hall.

“Oh, River – thank you!” she said smiling, almost shyly. “My office. Last time I left it in the copy room half of it disappeared in less than a week. Some people have no qualms about stealing supplies from MI5.”

River pursed his lips and said, “Yeah, what cheap arseholes we work with.” Including himself as guilt washed over him.

“Cartwright!”

River dropped the case of paper at the sound of Lamb’s voice. He knew he should’ve waited till Lamb popped out for lunch next door to bring this upstairs, but River hated how nervous Catherine would get if he left it near the entrance – heaven forbid someone fell in an emergency she always said.

“River do be careful – it almost landed on my foot.”

“So, sorry Catherine,” he said.

River sighed, his shoulders drooping at the thought of dealing with Lamb. He shuffled across the hall to Lamb’s office – entering a thick cloud of cigarette smoke tinged with the rotting remnants of pad Thai in the rubbish bin from the night before.

“You screamed?”

“Is that a question? You’re so daft you don’t recognize my voice?”

River bit his lower lip, forcing himself to not respond to the jab.

“Just making sure.”

“Yeah, well thankfully we don’t have any other rejects from your gene pool cluttering up the office. Good thing your mum quit while she was ahead and stopped at you.”

What an insufferable twat, River thought.

Lamb descended into a coughing fit that shook his whole body. River wondered how he passed his medical every year sounding like a tuberculosis patient.

“Anyway, Lady Di has a task for you – seems you were chosen especially since you’ll relate well to the environment among other things.”

“Oh?” River was curious, but worried given how the Park liked to screw Slough House at every turn.

“Yeah – protection duty.”

River’s face perked up as he imagined some high ranking government official in need of his services. “I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

Lamb grabbed the file nearest him and waved it towards River. River reached over to grab it. “Yeah, don’t thank me yet.” Lamb released the folder and leaned back in his chair as it groaned under the strain of his grith.

River opened the file and frowned. “Why does she need protection if she’s never had it before?”

“Death threats – the Royal Family has been getting a slew since the coronation.”

“Isn’t this detail usually handled by the Met?”

Propping his sock encased feet up on the desk, he leaned back further, hands now resting on his rotund belly. “Yep, not enough resources to babysit a spoiled rich girl.”

“She’s only the niece of the King – they must feel it’s credible to give her protection, no?”

“Seems so. Personally I hate the lot of them. That pomp shite – huge waste of taxpayer money. Anointed by divine right my ass. You wouldn’t catch me bowing to someone who shits just like everyone else.”

Right on cue Lamb ripped a loud fart. River backed away to avoid the oncoming stench.

River flipped through the file, skimming over the threat assessment report and his assignment’s fact sheet. Lady Alice Highgrove, age 28 went to Cambridge University, job socialite. What? That’s not a job. Sure he’d seen her splashed across the gossip pages pictured at glitzy events Royals attended, but he didn’t realize that was all she did. River had a bad feeling about this duty.

“Umm, maybe Louisa would be better suited for this as she’s a woman.” Not that Louisa would get on with a spoiled Royal socialite, but at least she’d maybe vibe with the girly crap he dreaded.

Lamb belly laughed, his greasy hair shaking on his head. “She’d murder her inside of 24 hours.”

“One of the dogs?”

“Nope. Lady Di said her Royalness wanted someone at least somewhat attractive.”

River quirked a half grin.

“Yeah, don’t let that go to your head. You’re not being chosen for your skills, but for your pretty boy looks. Her father the Duke demanded she get government protection – you know him right – Duke of Windemere?”

“Ah, yes – the sketchy one with ties to Middle Eastern sheiks and princes and whispers about underage girls.”

“Yeah, that’s the one – don’t get mixed up in anything dodgy. Trot off to the Park for your gun and a stipend. They’re expecting you.”

“What?” River lit up – they were entrusting him with a gun? Maybe this was his ticket back into the Park.

“God, you look like an excited golden retriever. Don’t fuck this up Cartwright – or else they’ll stuff you in the Tower of London and throw away the key.”

“River,” Catherine chirped at him as he neared the staircase.

He stopped and smiled at her, “Yeah?”

“I had seen the file – I’m so proud you got the detail. I think you have a chance of finally getting out of here. You’re grandfather will be chuffed – protecting a Royal.”

“God, I hope so. And she’s a minor Royal,” River said attempting to down play the importance of the protection detail. He didn’t want to give his hopes up, especially since he didn’t know what Lady Alice was like when she wasn’t smiling in a fashionable ensemble.

“Nonsense! She attends Christmas at Sandringham and Royal Ascot. This is so exciting.”

River chuckled. “I think maybe you’d like the detail more than I would. I’ll text you if I need any insight – which I might.”

Catherine looked down and then focused upwards again on River. “That’s kind you’d think I’d be able to help you.”

River didn’t want to point out the obvious – namely her stack of Royal Life and Hello, arranged neatly in chronological order coupled with a Golden Jubilee mug she had on her desk as dead give aways that she certainly knew more about the world he was about to enter.

River arrived at Regents Park about 30 minutes later, file clutched in his hand with a spring in his step. Security let him through seamlessly as he was on the visitor list for a change and he didn’t even need an escort this time. Things were looking up.

Pushing his way through the maze of corridors, he spotted Spider up ahead holding a cup of coffee in one hand and an iPad in the other. River contemplated jogging to catch-up to him, but stopped himself from gloating about the protection detail. Did he need to brag and tempt the fates? No, absolutely not. He had had so little luck since crashing Stanstead that it wasn’t worth the momentary charge it would give him and risk the wrath of karma.

River knocked at an inconspicuous door that required a card swipe which he did not have – yet. He heard shuffling on the other side and the lock disengage. Duffy appeared in the doorway and eyeballed River with a blank look on his face.

“It’s the prodigal nepobaby. I assume you’re here for your service weapon and stipend?”

“Nice to see you too, Duffy. And yes I am,” River said entering the drab windowless office.

“Better you than me. Hope you enjoy garden parties and horse shows and all that posh crap,” Duffy said while unlocking a large metal cabinet. It was the gun safe. He pulled a simple handgun out, checked the tag, jotted down the number onto a form and continued, “Try not to shoot yourself in the foot or worse her with it. You’ll need to sign the form. Let me grab some bullets.”

River signed the release form. Duffy returned with bullets and a small back holster for the weapon. “Oh, and this,” he added, pulling out a credit card from a drawer in his desk. “Remember any charges will require back-up proof of the work necessity for the purchase.”

“Of course, I’ll keep a log. Thanks, Duffy.”

“You need to report to her flat at Kennington Palace at six this evening. She’s attending a fundraiser at the National Portrait Gallery. Look like you belong there – suit, tie – got it?” Duffy said.

“I know how to dress,” River said suppressing an eye roll. No bad karma. He had to stay charming, polite and lose his frustrated attitude about his work.

River arrived early at the Palace to ensure he wouldn’t upset his charge. An actual real life butler answered the door and let him into a foyer more grand than luxury hotels. To the right was a semi-spiral staircase to the left a checkerboard black and white marble floor that led to an archway where he heard a commotion.

A small ball of fur darted out in a blur of brown and white with flying floppy ears. All energy and shrill barking. River took a step back as it charged at him, excited paws scratching on his trouser leg.

“Whoa! Down boy or girl!” River tried backing up more and more till he bumped a plantstand.

“Sir! Have a care, please!” the butler said as he rushed over to steady a large crystal bowl of fresh flowers.

“So sorry,” River responded, feeling his cheeks warm.

In the chaos River hadn’t seen the young woman who he recognized as Lady Alice Highgrove enter. She wore a smirk as she bent down to pick up the energetic dog. “Naughty, naughty Mr. Darcy, you scared mummy’s new friend.” She nuzzled the dog to her cheek while batting her eyes at River.

“Pleased to meet you ma’am,” River extended his hand which she didn’t take and continued, “I’m River Cartwright.”

Lady Alice gave him the once over. “You’ll do, but you are bit more scruffy than I expected. I thought protection detail had to be clean shaven. Oh, and it’s Lady Alice, not ma’am. God, I’m not that old yet,” she said in a very posh RP accent.

She wandered past the archway into another room while River stood there wondering what he was supposed to do. “Well, aren’t you coming? Are you daft or something?”

“Uh, no, I didn’t want to seem impertinent,” River mumbled.

River took a deep breath. He was so out of his league with this detail. He hadn’t had time to find a protocol sheet on what to call her and all that other nonsense etiquette rubbish. He’d text Catherine later for some pointers.

Following Lady Alice into what he assumed you’d call a sitting room, unless it was a drawing room – he had no idea what the difference was to be honest. He watched her drop down on a very overstuffed toile patterned sofa and put her dog down next to her. The dog wasn’t sitting for more than five seconds before he made a bee-line for River again, barking and anxiously scratching all over his leg again.

“He likes you! That’s a good sign. You can pet him, maybe he’ll stop pestering.”

River supressed a sigh. Bending, he patted the fluffy cavalier spaniel’s head and smiled. “Hi there fella.” The dog snarled, snapped a little and River recoiled.

“Mr. Darcy! Stop that!”

“It’s okay, ma – I mean Lady Alice.”

“Is this your first day on the job?” she asked giving side long glance to her butler.

“No, I’m an experienced agent. I assure you.” Just not used to yipping dogs and Royal protocol he felt like adding. River also noticed she wasn’t dressed appropriately for a fundraiser at a museum more like a night out. He glanced at his watch, it was already quarter past five.

“You have somewhere to be?” Lady Alice asked, brow arched, head cocked, not unlike her dog as she too had brown hair and warm, but cunning hazel eyes.

“No, but don’t you? I was told you’re attending an event at the National Portrait Gallery tonight at six.”

“Oh, that’s what I told my parents. No, we’re actually going to Sketch to meet up with a friend of mine for drinks and then maybe a club afterwards.”

River scowled. There was no place more difficult to keep a potential target safe than a bar or nightclub. The noise, the crush of people, the lights, the alcohol and drug use made it a nightmare. Not to mention he couldn’t shadow her into the ladies toilets.

“Do you always look like that or do you have indigestion?” Lady Alice asked, stroking Mr. Darcy’s head.

Taking a deep breath and trying to make his face as neutral as possible, River said, “No. I’m just concerned about the challenge of keeping you safe in a bar or a club.”

“You said you’re experienced. Plus, I can’t believe someone would want to hurt me. I’m like 18th in line or something. I’ve lost track, too many cousins with babies ahead of me.”

He forced a smile. “Yes, I am. Certain venues are just not ideal, especially since I already mapped all the exits out for the National Portrait Gallery and various routes away from the venue just in case.”

Lady Alice hopped off the sofa and strode towards River and patted his cheek nonchalantly, “Aww, how cute, you like to be prepared. James Bond improvises all the time quite well. I suspect you can, too.” 

River felt his cheeks burn and bit his lower lip to stifle himself. “With all do respect this isn’t a film and that’s not what MI-5 is like ma’am.” He called her that on purpose – two could play at this game.

“The Sketch is only on the other side of the park and isn’t far from the National Portrait Gallery, so don’t worry, it’s the same escape route back to this heap. Come on, Cartwright, I’ll even let you drive my car,” she said with a wink as she made her way to the foyer.  “Wilson, do you have my coat and bag ready?”

River had no choice but to follow after the spoiled Royal. The butler apparently named Wilson helped her into her coat and then handed her the handbag seemingly out of thin air. She clicked open the purse, dropped her phone in and pulled out a set of keys. Wilson opened the door and she exited, River trotted after her with the dog zooming through his legs, almost tripping River. Regaining his composure, he noticed the butler followed them out and saw his minor mishap – not of his doing. However, that didn’t stop Wilson from giving him glaring side-eye.

“You think maybe the dog needs a leash or some training?” River said to no one in particular as he just couldn’t help himself at the sheer frustration. No one paid his comment any mind and he muttered, “Fuck me – I’m screwed.”

[daydreamgoddess14]

The Ties that Bind - Chapter 5

Anyone fancy a bit of Monday heartbreak? 😢

So I'm fairly certain this is the penultimate chapter, I've got an insane week at work this week so I wanted to get this posted so I could start fresh once I recover from real life 😅

Enjoy, let me know your thoughts!

Tagging: @thomasshelbyswife @cillmequick

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4

Masterlist

Chapter 5

What appeared as twilight from the safety of the kitchen, was more like the depths of night outside. The air was cool and they’d both left the house in only the clothes they were wearing. Seren still had sneakers on, but David was in slippers. They ran into the nearest field, the grasses were as high as Seren’s shoulders in places and the ground uneven. The crops slapped her face and neck as she ran, feet pounding into the soft ground. Deep in the field, David pulled her down.

“I need to get hold of First Desk. Do you have your phone, did you call him?” He asked. Seren felt her pocket, her face ashen in the moonlight.

“Shit. Shit, it’s gone. Oh god, what the hell do they want? What the hell is First Desk?” She hissed. 

“They want me. I’m afraid River and I haven’t been entirely honest with you. But there’s no time for that, we need to keep going. You know the furthest barn?” Seren nodded. “Get there, don’t wait, just go.”

“I’m not leaving you behind.”

“You will if I damn well tell you to.” David instructed.

“I will not and you can’t make me. Let’s go.” Seren gripped the iron poker tighter in her hand and rose to her feet. They both moved off as fast as they could, the barn a few hundred meters away. As they ran further and deeper into the field, David struggled. His feet slipped inside his slippers and the ground got more boggy. She took his hand and pulled him with her. “Come on, come on,” she begged. “I've got you.” She could hear voices behind them, keeping their distance on the edges of the field. 

“You must go, get the First Desk and tell them we're compromised. Tell them to send that new chap, Lamb, I've heard he's handy in a sticky spot.” Seren's heart fell as she realised she'd lost him to the confines of his mind. 

“We can get there together,” she cringed as she attempted to play along, “First Desk are way out of my league.”

“True enough. You don't have clearance anyway.” Clearance? Her mind ran, desperately unable to keep up with wherever David was and their actual situation. “We need dogs here as soon as they can, and likely a clean up team.” Seren felt her breathing shallow and her eyes filled with tears. She swallowed and tried to regain control, tried to inhale fully and steady herself. She could feel the creeping terror of a panic attack trying to edge its way into her mind but was determined to keep it at bay. 

“Let's keep going, we're nearly at the barn.” She half dragged him the last hundred metres and pulled at the door. The barn was filled with hay bales at various heights, Seren breathed a sigh of relief that there were no unruly farm animals. They pulled the door closed together and she tucked David safely behind a stack a few rows in. She went to check how closely they'd been followed. She hoped the thieves hadn't bothered giving chase, a ransacked house was one thing but she wasn't sure how she'd explain to River if David was injured - or worse. As she rounded the corner to see if there was a way to barricade the door, it swung open. Seren hid behind the nearest hay bale and held her breath. The man whistled as he entered, casually peering around the large barn as if he had all the time in the world. Seren held the poker tightly in her hands and she moved silently deeper into the barn. The man started to lunge around corners, trying to catch her out, make her jump. 

“No point dragging this out, get out here and bring the old bastard with you.” He taunted. Seren's blood ran cold. She could hear him closing in on the stack she hid behind and felt a desperate need to get him further away from David, as far away as she could. As he rounded the corner, she aimed the poker at his midsection, swinging it like a bat. The impact sent vibrations through her hands and up her arms. The poker dropped to the floor alongside the man who dropped to his knees. Seren ran for the door. If she could lead him out and away, she could keep David safe. Or safer. She flew past him, feet pounding on the dusty floor, he wasn't far behind though and as she reached the wide space in front of the open doors, he grabbed her ankle and she hit the ground face first. Winded by the fall, she groaned into the dirt. She rolled onto her back and scrambled to her feet, balling her hand into a fist, she threw a punch to his jaw. She quickly realised her error as pain shot through her hand and the thumb she'd captured between her palm and fingers. He shook off her punch and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her high enough that her tiptoes scraped the floor looking for purchase. Black started to creep into the edges of her vision as his hand tightened and her breathing was more constricted. She could feel her consciousness slipping away, and then she heard a female voice. 

“Oh for god's sake Duffy, put the girl down. I thought we were going for low key?” The man brought her down a fraction.

“Put her down now!” David bellowed, hitting the man on the back of the head with the handle of his pistol. Seren tumbled to the floor, the man dropping her as he clutched at the back of his head. The woman spoke up again. 

“Gun down please, David.” She said sternly. Seren clutched her throat, still unable to drag enough air into her lungs. The panic attack and hyperventilating she'd managed to stave off were beginning to take hold. Somewhere in her semi consciousness she heard more voices and an overhead light came on. She hid her face in her hands, blinking away the bright light. 

“Isn't this all a bit much Di?” 

“Fuck off, Lamb, we had this under control.”

“Grandad, please put the gun down.” 

“Don't make me laugh, you can't control your own bowel movements, Duffy. Diana, this is an overreaction and you know it.”

“Can you both stop bickering, I do not have the energy for this.” Nestled amongst the raised voices and arguing which she could barely hear over the sound of her ragged breathing and the blood rushing in her ears, Seren heard a familiar voice. A body crouched down next to her, lifting her to sit more upright. 

“Come on darling girl, sit up.” She saw two David's in her eyeline and shook her head.

“Two of you,” she croaked, her breathing still not under control. 

“That'll be the lack of oxygen, can you breathe more deeply?” David placed his hands on her upper arms and tried to encourage her to slow down. In the corner of her eye, she saw the man who'd choked her with a gun pointed at David. 

“No, no,” she tried to shout. She shuffled to her feet and tried to put herself between the gun and David. 

“Fucks sake, can we decide what the fuck we're doing here?” The man growled, the gun firmly aimed at Seren. 

“What the fuck, Duffy? Put the fucking gun down.” Seren soon had River's body between her and the gun and found herself looking at the rough pattern of his jacket. He had an arm pushed out behind him, keeping her hidden by his body. She swayed on the spot and felt David gently guide her back to the floor. With her eyes adjusted to the light and her breathing steadily becoming more even, Seren started to pay more attention. River still had his back to her, David sat by her side. 

“Let's put the dog back in his cage eh, Di? Seems the old bastard has his faculties for now so shall we try and talk like grown ups?” A bedraggled looking man standing near River spoke up. 

“Suddenly the voice of reason, Lamb?” The man they called Duffy sneered. 

“Well yeah, actually, I'm bloody hungry. A man's gotta eat.” 

“Shut up both of you.” The woman said sharply. She was dressed impeccably, despite their location. She looked around the standing bodies to David. “Are you with us, Cartwright?”

“I am currently, Diana, yes. Though I can't guarantee for how long. I assume you're here to kill me?” David patted Seren reassuringly on the shoulder and got to his feet. The woman hummed. 

“It was my intention, yes. It's becoming increasingly apparent that you don't have the mental capacity to keep certain things quiet any longer.”

“It's true, my mind is not what it once was. But I've given nothing away, the girl is evidence of that. She's completely in the dark.”

“Until now.”

“Yes, well, blame your dogs for that. Watching us for months, putting us on edge.” They fell silent. 

“Where do we go from here then?” The scruffy man asked, lighting a cigarette. “Would you like us to shoot you once you've had it, Di?”

“No I bloody would not.”

“Bit of a dick move expecting the old bastard to get it then? And I don't even like him.”

“Your opinion is noted, Lamb.”

“Ma'am, may I-” River started.

“Fucking hell Cartwright, we were just getting somewhere.” Lamb interrupted. 

“Let him speak, River has my power of attorney, I trust him to speak for me.” David said wearily. The woman rolled her eyes and gestured for River to continue. 

“He's right, he's not given up any information even on his worst days. Please,” he pleaded, “please don't kill him. Can we have a service approved carer? Regular reviews, anything?”

“Lamb?”

“Don't look at me, I want fuck all to do with this.”

“But you agree with the suggestion?”

“If you kill him, you're setting a precedent for how you or I will be treated when we lose our marbles. I for one want to die drunk in bed covered in Chinese takeaway, not shot by this moron.” He pointed at Duffy. The woman looked at her watch impatiently.

“Fine. But if anything goes wrong, it comes back on you, Cartwright, and he,” she pointed at David, “won't be able to save you this time.” River nodded obediently. 

“Yes ma'am, understood.”

“I think we're done here. Clean up the fallout Cartwright.”

“No more dogs?” Lamb asked. The woman hesitated and he looked pointedly at her. 

“No more dogs, you have my word.”

“Glad we're all in agreement, now fuck off Duffy.” Lamb clapped his hands and shooed the other man toward the door. The woman and Duffy left, leaving Seren with the two Cartwrights and Lamb. 

“The girl needs hospital.” Lamb told River. 

“‘m fine,” she shook her head, making it ache again. He knelt down in front of her, Seren could see his sallow skin and greasy, lank hair. He looked at her neck, mottled with purple bruises, and her hand, swollen and misshapen. River watched over them, he still hadn't spoken to or approached Seren himself. 

“You need x-rays. Your thumb is broken and you need your wrist strapping up. Go alone,”

“She's not going alone.” River stated.

“Want to be arrested for beating up your girlfriend?” Lamb asked, “cos that's what they'll think.” He turned back to Seren, “you go alone. Tell them you were mugged and a police liaison officer will be taking a statement tomorrow. Then get yourself off home, plenty of painkillers and some sleep. Cold water for your throat.” He stood back up. “We, gentlemen, have got some shit to work out.” 

“Can I at least take her to the hospital?” River asked. Seren could feel the anger bubbling up, sick of being called ‘girl’ and ‘her’.

“Drop her at the door, you'd better come back with food.” 

“I'm not going anywhere until someone explains what the fuck just happened?” Seren said as loudly as she could manage. The men fell silent. “River?” He looked between Seren and Lamb, loyalties torn. “This is ridiculous,” she turned to David who looked exhausted. Despite her anger, she couldn't help but want to help him. “Come on, let's get you home.” She took his arm with her good hand and led him slowly outside. River's car was abandoned outside with the doors wide open and the engine running. She helped David into the front seat and sat in the back waiting for the others. It was a matter of seconds back to the house along the gravel track. With River trying to catch her eye in the mirror, Seren wished she'd put David in the car and walked. She needed time to process what she'd heard and seen, but her anger was too great to ignore and she had too many questions to walk away. In the house, Seren assessed the damage. The back door had been kicked in and the route from the back door to the front door looked like the path of a tornado. Lamb started opening cupboards. “There's food in the fridge.” She told him, sinking into the armchair in the kitchen. She was freezing, so she pulled her hoodie (River's hoodie) from the back of the chair and slipped her arms into it, pulling it around her. David came in from the sitting room with the whiskey decanter while River followed with glasses. He handed her a tumbler with a few generous fingers of single malt in the bottom but she couldn't bring herself to look at him. She stayed in the armchair, legs pulled up like a shield while the others sat around the table. Lamb tucked into the pie she'd made earlier. 

“So, what do you want to know?” David asked. 

“Everything. How long have you been lying to me?” Her throat hurt, her voice was low and husky. David shook his head.

“It wasn't a lie,” he stressed. 

“We're MI5.” River told her. Across the table Lamb leaned back in his chair and threw up his hands. 

“So much for anonymity.” River ignored him. 

“This is my… boss.”

“The woman? And the thug?” 

“Everyone's boss. She's interim head of MI5. He is actually just a thug, we call them dogs. They're usually carrying out her dirty work.” Seren stared at him. 

“The dogs? You brushed me off when I told you what David said-”

“I know. I was wrong.”

“Fucking hell, Cartwright, it must be love if you're admitting you were wrong about something.”

“Love?” David queried. 

“Do you mind?” Seren snapped at Lamb. “I think we've more important things to discuss.”

“I like this one, she's feisty.”

“Fuck you.” She glared. 

“Got a bit of heartburn, better not.” 

“So what, why was she here?”

“They thought it easier if I were dead. I once had Diana Taverner's job. I have a lot of information, a lot of secrets that they don't want escaping as I deteriorate.”

“That's true? They came to kill you?” She was incredulous, it sounded too far-fetched to be true. “And you knew? You knew we were in danger?” She turned to River. He went to speak but she got there first. “So what the fuck was I? Collateral damage?”

“No! God, no. Seren I didn't mean for you to be in any danger-” Seren stood up abruptly and downed her drink. Already unsteady on her feet, the alcohol didn't help. “Wait, you can't drive, let me take you?”

“I'm fine.”

“Seren, please?”

“I'd listen to him. I don't tend to, but I can't see you making it to the hospital on your own steam.” Lamb pointed out. Her shoulders dropped, she knew he was right. “Get back here sharpish. No dawdling.” He warned River. 

*

In the car, Seren sat as close to the door as she could get and stared out of the window. River watched her carefully, only taking his eyes off her when the road demanded his attention. 

“I'm sorry,” he said quietly, grateful that they were finally alone and he could speak freely. She didn't respond. She cradled her bad wrist in her good hand, she was shivering so he turned up the heat. As she turned slightly to acknowledge the extra warmth, he could see the tears in her eyes. She swallowed thickly, trying not to let them fall, but the pain in her throat made her grimace. They pulled up at the hospital, the bright lights of the A&E department bursting through the darkness. He reached out to place a hand on her thigh and when she flinched, his heart sank. “I'll pick you up when you're done?”

“I don't have my phone-”

“Here, take mine,” he scrambled in his pocket. 

“I don't want your phone, or a lift, or anything to do with you.” She finally turned to look at him. “Don't contact me.” She looked completely betrayed.

“If that's what you want-” the car door slammed and he watched her slowly make her way to the entrance. He dragged his hands over his face and up into his hair, trying to shake off the desperate heartache of watching her walk out of his life. He sniffed and nodded firmly to himself. Time to clean up the fallout, like he'd been told. At the house, neither Lamb nor the elder Cartwright had made any attempt to straighten out the mess Duffy had made. Under duress, David had agreed to a service approved and chosen carer who would report weekly to Lamb and Taverner and daily to River. He would no longer be assessed by his own GP, but by a private MI5 doctor and he would undergo rigorous bi-monthly tests to track his health more closely. By the time Lamb left, River wasn't sure David had an ounce of privacy left - something he knew Seren would have advocated for. He wondered if he'd given up David's freedom too easily but decided, in the absence of Seren's guidance, that it was either this or give up David's life. He knew which he preferred.

“I'm proud of you my boy.” David told him as River helped him into bed. 

“I didn't do anything.” 

“You came when we needed you. How's Seren?” River shrugged. 

“She doesn't want anything to do with me. With us.”

“She'll come around.” 

“I don't think she will.”

“You like her?” River looked away, “I may be old but I'm not stupid. I heard two people climb the stairs a few weeks ago. And I heard that bloody car of hers leave at some ungodly hour. The way you look at her, I used to look at Rose like that.”

“Sorry grandad,” River sighed.

“I'm not angry. She's good for you. For both of us.”

“Yeah well, not anymore. We start again with someone new.” David frowned. 

“We'll see about that. Get some rest.”

“You too old man. G'night.” River closed the door quietly and set about clearing up the mess. He wedged the back door closed as best he could, swept up broken glass and righted everything that had been knocked over. He found Seren's phone in the front porch, her bag in the kitchen, her book in the sitting room. She was scattered around the house, hair ties by the kitchen sink, a notepad on the coffee table, her favourite chocolate in the fridge. He left everything where it was, apart from the phone which he put by her bag, then he fell into a dreamless sleep on the sofa. He was woken by shuffling sounds from the kitchen and hushed voices. Bleary eyed, he wandered in to see Seren handing a taxi driver a tenner from her purse. The man thanked her and left, raising his hand in a wave to River as he did. Seren spun around to face him.

“Thought you'd be asleep.”

“How are you?”

“Sprained wrist, broken thumb, bruises.” 

“Your body combat teacher will be chuffed.”

“I dick around in a dark room pretending to punch stuff. I've never actually hit anyone before.” She muttered. 

“You look tired.”

“Thanks, you look like shit too.”

“Why don't you get some sleep in my room?”  Seren raised an eyebrow, “alone, I mean.” She shook her head. 

“I need to go,” she took her bag and keys from the table, shoving her battered phone in her pocket. “Tell him I said goodbye.” Her voice cracked and he reached for her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. 

“Seren-” he said softly. By the time she turned back to him, she'd regained her composure though the tears she'd tried to hide rolled down her cheeks.

“Don't say my name like that. Don't speak to me like I mean anything to you. You've made me a fool. I knew I shouldn't have let you win me over, I knew I should have stayed out of your way. I don’t want to see you again, goodbye River.” She pulled her arm out of his grasp and left him on the kitchen doorstep as her car spluttered to life and roared down the drive.

Chapter 6

[daydreamgoddess14]

The Escape Artist - Chapter 6

Well... it's been a long time coming! You might know that this chapter was dragged from me kicking and screaming 😅 It wasn't until spin class on Monday that it really started to come together, and then today I really cracked on so I could avoid doom scrolling all day... so silver linings and all that.

To that end, I really, really hope you enjoy this one - let me know your thoughts! Comments, as always, are love, and I do truly love to hear from you 💜

Masterlist

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Tag list: @moonmaiden1996 @theskytraveler @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

He watched Clover in the garden running rings around the dog who was clearly over the moon to see her. He'd wondered on the way over if he should have called beforehand. 

He'd secured the dog the evening before, Eugene had gone to River with no fuss. Sensing zero danger, he’d sat patiently on the passenger seat next to him, staring at him like they were new best friends. The puppy yapped excitedly when it caught the scent of one of Clover’s headbands left in the car. It had been far too late to show up at Ella's, so they'd sat together on River's sofa watching a late night film. He'd put out a bed and a couple of toys but Eugene had followed him from room to room as he switched off lights, locked up and brushed his teeth, then the dog had slept on the end of River's bed and snored all night. 

It was worth sharing his space for the look on Clover's face when he'd knocked the door. She peeked out of the barely open crack in the door, shot a wary look across the road at the Range Rover with two of Flyte’s men inside, and then looked directly at River holding the wriggling puppy, then back to the car, doing a perfect double take.

She was rolling around on the floor with Eugene before he could even say hello. 

And then Ella had appeared on the stairs, skidding to a halt on wet feet. Soap suds still clung to her bare legs and he'd followed their path upwards to where the two sides of the towel didn't quite overlap. 

His mouth had gone dry as she'd fidgeted with the end, trying to pull it down, her blush crept down her throat and beyond where her arm was desperately pining the towel against her chest. 

“You -” she started, the disbelief written all over her face, River fought against the smirk of victory at catching her completely unaware. “You got the dog?”

She gently batted the dog away from nipping her ankles, demanding her attention but she struggled to tear her eyes from River until Clover had begged to go outside.

“How'd you get the dog?” Her voice was full of wonder, something he hadn’t heard before. There was an underlying wariness and he got the feeling she’d been baited and trapped like this before.

Her dripping hair had left fat drops of water on the floor and Eugene until River had suggested that she get dressed. Mainly for his own sanity.

Dried and dressed, Ella made her way across the kitchen to stand next to him at the window to watch as Eugene tripped over his ears again. 

He felt her look over at him, her eyes narrowed.

“Please tell me?”

“I’m not going to tell you.”

“You didn’t break in?”

“I promise I did not break in. And I promise this isn’t some kind of trap or test.” She softened with relief.

“I don't know what to say,” hearing the wobble in her voice, he turned to watch her watching Clover in the garden. “Thank you doesn't even begin to cover -”

“Thank you is fine,” he said firmly. 

“But you're here so early as well, what are you even going to do?”

“Whatever you need me to. Blow up balloons, string up some banners,” he paused at the wide smile on her face, “what?”

She shook her head, grinning. “Nothing. I just… nothing has ever been this easy before,” she said quietly. “None of this has ever come without some kind of conditions or expectations attached to it.”

“No clauses, no ulterior motives. This is what actual people who are friends do for each other. So I’m told.”

 “So you’re told,” she sniggered. “Ok. Let's get you to work then, if you insist?”

“Do your worst, Cole.” He shrugged.

“Oh, now you're talking -”

“Alright, alright. Don't forget the thing with the dog, ok? I put up with him snoring all night.” 

At that, she looked up sharply. 

“Wait, what? You looked after him all night? At your place? In your bed?”

“On my bed, not in. I'm very particular about who's sharing my bed.”

“I… you…” She stumbled over her words briefly, before choosing to glare at him instead. “Sandwiches. You can help me make sandwiches.”

So they stood side by side making sandwiches. 

She sighed, adding more cheese to an already full slice of bread. 

“Thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome. Again.” He looked over purely to see the small smile and shake of her head. She cut her sandwich into precise triangles and put them alongside his slightly wonkier ones.

“I just… I just want to know why.”

“Why what?”

“I’m not sure we… I’m not sure I deserve any of this. Clover, sure, she’s just a kid. Though god knows how she’ll turn out after all of this. What if she’s like him?” He could hear the fear in her voice, her hands had slowed their rhythmic work.

“I told you, it’s what friends do, and she won’t. She’s got you.”

“Yeah, but what if it’s not enough?”

“I found out who my father was,” he started slowly, “Not long before you started. I'd never known before. My mum hasn't really been around, and she lied whenever I asked before.” Ella carried on with the sandwiches, but he could tell she was listening intently. “He's not a good man, he's about as far from good as you can get. And she… she left me. I reminded her too much of the life she wanted with him. Got in her way.”

“God, River, that’s awful -”

“My grandparents brought me up,” he continued. “All of this with you, with Clover, it’s made me think a lot about how we’re raised. I could have had a different life, I had brothers I didn’t know existed. He brought them up as these fucking cult assassins, kidnapping women from all over Europe, getting them pregnant and then keeping the kids for himself. That could have been me, easily. My mum was… brainwashed by him.”

“How did you get out?”

“I didn’t, I wasn’t even born. My grandad swapped my mother for cash, passports, weapons - anything he could. He found out she was pregnant with me once he'd gotten her back, but she didn’t want to be here,” he said bitterly. “She didn’t want me.” Ella’s hand reached out to cover his own. “That’s why I know Clover is going to be fine, El. You wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her.” He took his hand back to brush roughly over his cheek, taking a deep breath and regaining his composure. “Once I was with my grandparents, things were… different. Mostly better. I think my grandfather still resents where I come from, and he’s never forgiven my mother.”

“But you were loved?”

“I wasn’t unloved,” he shrugged. “Clover will be nothing like her father -” 

“And you’re nothing like yours,” she added. “God, what a fuck up.”

She slipped an arm up and over his and pulled him into an unsuspected hug. He let his head drop into the crook of her neck and the scent of her shampoo overwhelm him. She sighed, her voice muffled from pressing herself against him. “How are any of us supposed to know how to do this?”

“Do what?”

“Life,” she let go of him and raised her hands, palms to the sky. 

“There must be some people out there with a regular life,” he laughed a little. 

“Not us, though.”

“Not us.”

“Do you ever worry that everything that happened, where you really come from, is going to infect everything around you?” She asked.

“Every day. I was a total fucking mess before you started with us. Louisa and Catherine… they’ve been helping me see that it’s not true. It doesn’t have to be family who saves you.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start with mine. I couldn’t have done any of this without all of you,” she said openly. “I still don’t know how I’m supposed to show Clover what real love looks like when I don’t know myself. I feel like I haven’t been myself since before I met Eddie, and I was a kid then, what if I’m not a good enough person?”

He stood behind her, took hold of her shoulders and turned her to face the window. Clover was sitting in the too long grass with Eugene in her lap hugging him fiercely.

“She says otherwise,” he said softly into her ear. She nodded and turned back to him.

“C’mon, back to work, slacker. I’ve got a cake to ice.”

They got back to work, River finishing sandwiches and Ella on the cake. 

“Does she know what’s going on today?” He asked after Clover had appeared for the third time to steal food he was preparing.

“She knows a few people are coming over. I mean, that’s all that’s happening. I doubt anyone from work will show up, except maybe Louisa and that’s only because I promised cake.” She’d pulled her hair up and out of the way so she could lean over the cake, piping bag in hand. River finished his prep and made his way over to watch as she carefully piped Clover’s name onto the top of the cake.

“Why’s it say Blower?” He asked from over her shoulder.

“It says Clover, you dick.” She laughed, digging an elbow into his ribs.

“How does that say Clover?”

“There’s the C -”

“Looks like a B.”

“Piss off. That’s the V -”

“That’s not a V.” She stood up straight quicker than he’d anticipated and turned to him with the piping bag still in hand. As she turned, she left a line of icing on his t-shirt. She glanced up at him, a flash of fear crossing her face. He was quick to put her at ease with a snigger of incredulity, the fear dissolving before it had set in. Her tightly pursed lips hid her smile as she swiped a finger over it and brought the finger to her mouth to lick off the luminous pink icing. 

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. 

Eugene and Clover clattered through the back door and the spell was broken. 

“Mum! Can I get changed for the party?” Clover bubbled excitedly.

“Course you can babe, let’s wipe Gene’s muddy feet before he goes upstairs though.” Clover and Eugene ran off to the small bathroom next to the kitchen.

“You did that on purpose,” River said with a wry smile.

“If you say so. But that,” she challenged, “is definitely a V.” 

“Oh Eugene, don’t do that!” 

“Oh look, I think that’s my cue,” Ella grinned with a ‘what can you do, eh?’ shrug upon hearing Clover’s giggles in the bathroom.

“I’ll get you back,” he warned, trying to clean the pink line of sugar.

“You can try, Cartwright.” Her singsong voice faded as she wandered to the bathroom to assess the chaos caused by Eugene. 

He surveyed the room, noted the small pile of banners and balloons waiting to liven up the space and got back to work. 

*

“Is it straight?” He asked, standing on a slightly creaky chair with one end of the last banner in hand. Ella looked over from the other side of the room.

“Not remotely.”

“Maybe some suggestions then?”

“Your side needs to go up a bit.”

“Up? How?” He asked incredulously, arms fully stretched up above his head.

“How’re you so tall?” She muttered. “Nah, I’m joking. It needs to come down a bit,” she giggled. He moved the banner down a bit and she eyed the banner critically. “Little more.” He moved it again. “That’s it.” 

As he stepped down, the doorbell rang, sending Eugene wild. Clover ran to open the door to Louisa and Catherine. By the time Ho and Shirley arrived with Coe not far behind, as well as Lulu and Sofia, River could see how overwhelmed Ella was with the turnout.

“You ok?” He asked as she passed him to go to the kitchen. He got up to follow her.

“Yeah, just… I didn’t expect them to actually show up. I thought it would be just me and Clo dancing around the living room, eating an entire cake and crashing in front of the TV.”

“I don’t think we’re done yet,” he said knowingly.

“I think we probably are.” She smiled. The doorbell went again and Ella peered around the kitchen door to see who Clover was greeting. Jackson Lamb stood on her doorstep with an unwrapped gift.

“Happy birthday, kiddo.” 

“Barbie! Thank you! We’re having cake, are you coming in?”

“I’d prefer a whisky.” He muttered unhappily. Catherine moved up the sofa to make a space for him and nodded her approval that he’d turned up.

“No. Way.” Ella whispered, nudging River.

“Looks like there is something in his chest other than cigarette smoke and a swinging rock.”

“Who’d have thought it?” She wondered, reaching behind River for the whisky bottle. He passed her a glass and she poured a generous measure.

In the living room, Ho was having trouble keeping his eyes off Lulu and Sofia who were typically decked out in the full glam hair and nails befitting a 9 year old’s birthday party.

“Oh babe! You’re cracking open the good stuff?” Sofia cooed on seeing the whisky glass.

“You want a real drink?” Ella asked.

“Depends, how appropriate is it to get shitfaced at a kid’s birthday party?” Lulu asked.

“It isn’t appropriate, Lu.” Sofia chastised and cuddled up to the birthday girl in question, leaving a lipstick kiss on her forehead.

“I beg to differ.” Lamb muttered.

“If it means someone will dance and do karaoke with me then you’re allowed?” Clover suggested, holding up the small karaoke speaker and microphone she’d opened from Louisa and Shirley. 

Lulu held out her mug to Ella.

“Fill her up, kid. I’m about to break out my best Whitney,” she declared. 

“Cake first. Then you can get pissed.” Ella reasoned. She took the mug anyway and disappeared to the kitchen. From the doorway, lit cake in hand, she gestured for River to switch off the lights. Catherine got the hint first and led the Happy Birthday chorus. River watched as Ella approached Clover with the cake, the candlelight catching in both of their eyes. He pulled out his phone and took a batch of photos while trying to keep Eugene from jumping in to attack the cake. With the candles blown out, he swiftly took the cake from Ella who looked surprised, but grateful. With her hands free, she enveloped the girl into a hug, peppering kisses into her hair. “Happy birthday, my baby girl.”

“Muuuuum!”

“She’s not a baby anymore, El.” Sofia smiled. “She’s wise beyond her years, aren’t you my darling?”

“It’s her job to embarrass you,” Louisa told Clover who huffed in response.

“And at least she’s a cool mum. Mine is so cringe.” Shirley supplied.

“It’s a fine balance between cool and cringe, I expect.”

“It’s a tightrope.” Ella grimaced.

“You make an excellent acrobat.” Louisa laughed.

“Nah, I’m not having that unless I see physical proof that she can get her legs behind her head.” Ho chimed in.

“Gross, Ho.”

“You’ll never know what my legs can do, Roddy. It’ll have to stay in that limited imagination of yours.” Ella flicked his forehead.

“Ow! My imagination is far from limited, actually.”

“A real renaissance man.”

“Would the renaissance man care for some cake?”

“Go on then, Cole. Since you’re offering some sugar.”

“Now that’s cringe,” Ella pointed out as she left Shirley to mercilessly tease Ho. 

*

She was carefully cutting the cake into generous slices which Louisa and River were distributing throughout the room. Lulu and Clover had set up the speaker and were loudly taking it in turns to perform both the Whitney Houston and the Taylor Swift back catalogues.

“Do you think they take requests?” Louisa asked as Lulu strived for, and failed to hit a high note.

“Depends, how badly do you want your favourite song murdered?” Ella asked. “Personally, I wouldn’t risk it.”

“Great tip. That’s the last piece, by the way. My excuses for not watching the show have now run out, unless there’s anything else I can do?”

“Lou, you don’t have to stay, but no - nothing else to do other than watch terrible karaoke performed by a tone deaf child and an ageing sex worker. Enjoy.”

“Sad as it is to admit, watching a 9 year old kid having the time of her life is the best my weekend is going to get. Plus, this is an excellent cake.”

“I feel like you’re right on both counts there. Though actually, River succeeding in burglary is probably another highlight.”

“Who said I was on the rob?” He asked.

“You said you didn’t break in, but you must have dognapped? That is stealing, no matter how much charm you throw at it.”

“How else did you get the dog?” Louisa asked.

“Yeah River, exactly, how else did you get the dog?”

“I think you should probably just tell her, she looks like she’s about to fight you.” Louisa warned him with a shrug, taking a slice of cake on the way back to the living room. 

“It’s really not that big a deal,” he assured her.

“You don’t know the people I know. If any of his dickhead minions finds out -”

“His brother left the house unlocked.” Ella stopped still, a forkful of cake halfway to her mouth.

“What?”

“I got the address off Ho, went for a look around to see whether I could just, y'know, hop over the gate and take the dog, and his brother was there. He was asleep on the sofa - absolutely steaming drunk. I could see him through the window.”

“So you just let yourself in?”

“I tried the door, it opened. It’s really not my fault that Eugene just wandered over to me. He basically followed me to my car.” He shrugged.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I do have some skills, you know? It’s not just about good looks.” He teased.

“Who said anything about good looks? That bloody dog is just a softy.” She countered. He moved towards her, ignoring the question.

“Now you’re the one with icing,” his hand moved of its own accord, the pad of his thumb brushing icing from her bottom lip.

He felt her cool breath shudder over his hand. With the short distance between them, he caught the faint scent of sugar and vanilla on her breath, he could see every freckle dusting her nose and cheeks.

The two that were so close they’d blended into one heart shape between the outer corner of her eye and the top of her cheekbone, the three in a line which looked like they belonged in a wider constellation.

He wanted a closer look. He needed a closer look. The memory of Ella drunkenly pressing herself against him, her soft mouth against his, played on his mind.

“Ella, you're up!” Sofia’s voice carried through to the kitchen. His hand fell limply to his side. 

“Be right there,” she called back, standing perfectly still. 

“You were drunk,” he said as she finally went to move away, a light hand on her wrist. 

“Pardon?”

“Before, when I drove you home. You were too drunk to know what you were doing. I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you.”

“I knew what I was doing.” She murmured.

“You did?” he asked, unsure.

Ella nodded, though she was clearly wary of confessing anything, her expression was adamant.

“Yes. But I get why you didn’t want to kiss me back. Or don’t want to, whichever. I’ve made such a fuck up of everything, look at the state of me. Living in a fucking safe house, covered in bruises.” She said quietly. She shrugged, “least I’ve got Clo, eh? And the dog.” 

“Ella,” his hand kept her from leaving. “Is that what you think?” 

River's voice was low, filled with a restraint he didn't know he possessed, his gaze never leaving hers. "You think I don't want to kiss you because what?”

“I’m damaged goods, River,” she said, as if it were a totally obvious observation. He could practically hear her add the “duhhh” to the end of her sentence.

"Damaged goods," he echoed, his tone taking on a hint of disbelief. "Is that really what you see? What you think I see?"

River's hand on her wrist didn't loosen, his thumb gently brushed over her pulse point.

Ella forced a smile, an easy shake of the head.

"How can you not? It's fine, really.”

She pulled her wrist back from his grip and headed back to the party. He held back for a minute, he’d been certain that she hadn’t even remembered the kiss at all. 

That she’d been so drunk, half of the evening had been lost to gin. 

But she had remembered it, and that changed everything.

As he watched her go, he couldn't help thinking about the way she had spoken about herself – like she was broken, no longer wanted. The way she saw herself was so different from the way he saw her. 

He leaned into the doorframe between the kitchen and the party. Catherine and Lamb were deep in conversation, and she was actually smiling.

Shirley was fidgeting with her phone, half out of the door when Ella told her to go and have fun. She bolted with a haphazard wave. Ella had been dragged onto Clover’s makeshift dance floor and was spinning and twirling with the puppy in her arms and Clover holding one hand, her previous melancholy had been replaced by a big smile.

She looked wild and happy, and though he knew it wasn't entirely true, she put on a decent facade for Clover. 

“The timing for this is wank, Cartwright.” Louisa stood next to him, reading his mind. She followed his gaze to Ella.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“The good thing about that though,” she told him, “is that times change. All of this -” she gestured around the safe house, “the dogs outside, it will all come to an end. Her ex will rot in a prison cell, and one day, she’ll be ready.” She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“And until then, the timing is wank.” He added.

“You got it.”

*

He had three missed calls from Coe. For a man who rarely spoke, River assumed something big must have happened. He tapped the desk impatiently waiting for the call to connect. In the room across the hall, Ella was pacing, also on the phone. He wasn’t sure to whom, but when Coe finally picked up, it confirmed to him that they weren’t waiting on the same call.

“She’s gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“He came, fuck knows how. He’s got her.”

“What about you?”

“Ugh,” He heard Coe spit on the ground before he returned to the call, “banged me up pretty good.”

“I'm on my way.”

Waiting the handful of seconds for Ella's call to finish was like waiting a lifetime.

“He’s got bail. Over the weekend, he’s out and my solicitor didn’t even know! Can you fucking believe that?” She looked furious, her hand balled tightly around her phone as she stalked back into their office.

“El, something -”

“The incompetence is off the charts,” she ranted, not noticing him with his keys in hand, waiting to leave.

“Ella, stop.” Her mouth clamped shut as she looked at him, frowning. “I know he’s out. He’s got Clover.”

“No -” Her face paled as the anger was replaced by sheer terror.

“I’m going now to get Coe, we’re going to find her and -”

“I’m coming too.” 

“The fuck you are. I’m getting Coe, you’re staying here with Shirley.”

“River! No, I need to come with you -” she argued, hustling him towards the door. He stopped, his body filling the doorway and blocking her path. She pushed against him but he held fast.

“Ella, you need to stay here,” her hands came up to his chest as she rained fairly useless and ineffectual punches onto his chest to try and make him move. He took hold of her wrists lightly.

“No, I can’t. I can’t stay here! Let me fucking go, River. Let me go!”

“C’mon, El, you can beat the shit out of me if you want,” Shirley said from behind River. “You need to let him go and get Clover.” Ella gave a final, furious push. River leaned down to look her in the eye.

“Ella, babe, I’m going to bring her back to you. I’m going to get her.” 

Her hands fell limply into his, her eyes filled with tears of betrayal and hurt. 

He brought a hand to her cheek, “I’ll be back soon.” He kissed her forehead and turned to run down the stairs, taking them two at a time. 

As the bottom door slammed, he faintly heard Ella’s heartbreaking wail of anguish.

He didn’t wait for Coe to shut the passenger door before he moved off, the car weaved in and out of traffic.

“You know where we’re going?” Coe asked, holding his ribs. 

River nodded. He hadn’t known as he’d left Slough House, but during his impromptu career change to common burglar, he had riffled through a stack of paperwork which all mentioned a storage yard in Eddie’s name. 

He hadn’t told Ella that’d he’d managed a decent look around the house while her brother-in-law slept only feet away from him. 

River had filled the information into the recesses of his mind, his eidetic memory only kicking in after Coe’s initial call.

“Ella��s fucking raging that I didn’t let her come,” he muttered as he swerved into oncoming traffic to go around a slow moving bus. The cars coming towards him braked sharply, horns blaring.

“She’s scared.”

“I know -”

“Of losing you.” Coe added. 

“Fuck,” River hit up at the roof of the car. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

*

They approached the storage unit as dusk fell. River’s heart raced as he and Coe approached the dimly lit building. Shadows stretched across the spaces between buildings. He could still hear Ella’s distraught cries in his ear, could still see the betrayal in her eyes as he left her behind. 

He scanned their surroundings, neither he nor Coe had a weapon. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He knew had to put Ella to the back of his mind, he couldn’t afford to be distracted by fear or doubt. 

They reached the entrance to the storage unit and paused, his ears strained for any sound coming from within. The silence felt oppressive, he could hear only the sounds of their breathing. Coe pointed towards the first door they came to and gripped the handle. 

A faint noise broke the silence - a soft, shuffling coming from somewhere inside. River felt his body tense as Coe slowly turned the handle. Another shuffling sound came from within the unit, and then a low, gruff voice he recognised as Eddie’s muttered something unintelligible. 

River’s heart clenched, he knew he had to trust that Coe would get Clover out, he wanted to take care of Eddie himself. He wanted to remove him from Ella’s life completely. 

The door opened with a metallic click, revealing the dark interior. Dim light spilled into the unit and River let his eyes adjust. They cautiously stepped inside, avoiding crates and boxes, and scanned for any movement. 

Further into the unit, he could still hear Eddie. They moved forward more quickly, staying close to the walls of the unit. A light from deeper within crept towards them. Getting closer, River could see Clover huddled in a corner, visibly distressed. 

River’s heart tore at the sight of her, her school uniform covered with dirt and dust from the floor and the terror in her eyes. In front of her, Eddie paced back and forth.

“- your fucking mother? I’ve given her everything, angel. I’ve given you both everything.”

“Daddy -” Clover whimpered, it pained River to see her so scared. 

He knew it would never be the same, but he felt a brief sliver of how Ella must have felt over the last 9 years. He suddenly realised why she’d endured everything she had for so long, why she was so fixated on keeping Clover safe. 

He felt it himself, a gut-wrenching urge to scorch the earth as long as it meant Clover’s safety. 

As Eddie continued to rant, Clover looked into the shadows, her gaze landing firstly on him and then on Coe. He watched her carefully as her eyes widened with a mix of fear and hope. 

He held his breath, half expecting her to call out to him, but to her credit she stayed perfectly still and tried not to draw her dad’s attention. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and thumbs up.

She sighed with relief. As she did so, Eddie seemed to realise that her attention was elsewhere. River froze, his heart hammering in his chest. 

Eddie stopped in his tracks, the silence was deafening as he followed Clover’s eyeline towards River and Coe. Even in the dim light, they could see his eyes darken in rage.

“I might have known she’d send the fucking cavalry.” He growled, his voice low and menacing. “Couldn't do her own dirty work, eh? Hateful bitch.”

River and Coe stood firmly. Before River could respond, Coe answered.

“Give us the girl.” He warned steadily.

“My daughter? You dickheads think I’m going to let you walk out of here with my girl?” He scoffed. “Fuck right off!” He turned sharply and stalked towards them. “Didn’t take you long to cozy up to my fucking wife, did it?” He sneered at River.

River’s jaw clenched, his expression hardening.

“Leave Ella out of this,” he spat. “Let Clover go, she’s terrified.”

Eddie scoffed derisively, not impressed by River’s response. He looked over at Clover who watched them silently, fear writ large on her pale face.

“Angel, c’mere.” 

Clover hesitated, looking back and forth between Eddie and River. Her hostility towards her father was clear, but so was her fear of him. She was clearly scared of what he might do if she dared refuse him.

River saw her internal struggle, wanting to say something to reassure her that it would be ok but also not wanting to set Eddie off on a rampage.

Eddie’s patience wore thin, he slammed his fist on the nearest crate, making Clover flinch in fear.

“Come. Fucking. Here.” He barked loudly. River tensed, ready to intervene. He sensed Coe doing the same thing.

Clover visibly shook as her father’s anger escalated.

“It's ok, Clo.” River said softly, the nickname falling from his lips for the first time, as though he'd named her himself. He no longer cared about tiptoeing around Eddie, his only concern was getting Clover out quickly and safely. 

Eddie's face contorted with rage as he heard River use Clover's nickname. He looked stunned.

“The fuck did you just call her?” He growled. 

“Her name,” River said firmly. 

“River -” Clover pleaded, her voice wobbling. 

“It's ok, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere.” He assured her. 

Eddie sneered at River's response, his hands balling into fists at his sides. 

“You've got some fucking nerve talking to my daughter like that. First my wife, then you take my kid?”

“I'm just trying to protect her. Take your anger out on me, not her.” 

Eddie scoffed at River's words. 

"You think you're some kind of hero, standing up to me like that? Trying to protect my kid?" he spat out. "She's my child, not yours. You don't get to tell me what to do with her."

“And what? You're going to treat her like you do Ella?”

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie snapped, his voice rising. "You think you know anything about me and my daughter?"

He took a step closer to River, his eyes narrowing further. River stood his ground, his jaw clenched tightly. In his periphery, he could see Coe moving cautiously towards Clover, his hand outstretched. 

"I mean, you've been beating Ella for years, it's only a matter of time before you move on to Clover.”

Eddie bristled at River's blunt words, a dangerous glint in his eye.

"Watch your fucking mouth," he warned. Eddie's focus shifted to Clover. He turned towards her, his eyes cold and calculating. 

He saw her reaching for Coe and his expression darkened further. 

In a burst of rage, he lashed out, grabbing Clover's arm roughly and yanking her closer to him. She squealed in terror, tears swimming in her eyes. 

River felt his chest tighten at the sound and, unable to stop himself, he lunged forward, aiming straight for Eddie with every ounce of strength he had.

Eddie dropped Clover's arm, grunting as he pivoted to meet River's charge. He raised his fists, ready to defend himself against the attack.

"Coe -"

"On it," Coe read River's mind and scooped Clover up and out of the way. He moved fast, quickly heading towards the exit with Clover in his arms.

“You've got nothing left, dickhead,” River said, unable to hide his smirk.

Eddie glared at River.

"You think you're tough, huh?" he sneered. "You don't know who you're messing with.” He reached into the waistband of his jeans and pulled out a gun. He held the gun steadily, aiming it at River.

"What do you have to say now, eh?"

River tensed up as he saw the gun in Eddie's hand, his heart pounding in his chest.

"You're really gonna use that, huh?" he asks, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. "Go on then," he taunted, pressing his forehead onto the barrel of the gun.

Eddie's eyes narrowed as he heard River's derision.

"You asked for it," he growled, pressing the gun harder against River's forehead. 

The trigger clicked once under Eddie's finger and River twisted on the spot as the shot rang out, hitting a crate a few feet behind him.

Just missing its intended target, River took advantage of Eddie's momentary distraction and spun around, trying to gain the upper hand.

As he went to duck behind the next crate, another shot pinged, and this time he heard the unmistakable sound of the bullet tearing through flesh.

River cried out in pain as the bullet hit him, the impact jolting through his body. He stumbled and fell, clutching at his side. 

The pain was sharp and intense, and he could feel the warm, sticky blood staining his clothes and fingers. He tried to push himself up, but the impact of the bullet had left him weak and disoriented.

"Come on then, pretty boy," Eddie jeered.

"Over my dead body," a new voice called. River opened his mouth but no sound came out. Ella.

He felt his breathing shallow. His eyes widened in horror as he heard Ella's voice and saw her throw herself at Eddie.

"No," he gasped, trying to get up to stop her. As River struggled to get up, his vision going blurry from the pain and the loss of blood, he saw Ella standing defiantly in front of Eddie, shielding him with her body.

Eddie's anger seemed to reach new heights as he saw Ella standing up to him.

"You little bitch -" he started, ready to lunge at her.

Eddie's hand clenched tightly around the gun, an expression of pure rage on his face.

"You'll pay for this, all of you," he snarled. As blackness crept into his vision, the last thing River saw was Eddie raising the handle of the gun to Ella. 

just two dumb dumbs off to save a kiddo 😊

Happy reading!

Chapter 7 - coming soon!