#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]

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

[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.

[noforkingclue]

The Heartford Arms (OC x River Cartwright x Reader)

It's here! Bisexual panic River is here!

Hope you guys like it!

Slow Horses tag list: @cillmequick

It was an accident that River found the pub in the first place. He was walking around, trying to clear his head from another shitty day in Slough House, when he ended up walking in a random direction and resisting the urge to throw himself in the Thames. The pub looked… nice? Small and down a cobblestoned alley. It clearly looked like the type that locals mainly used. No fancy overpriced cocktails or pub grub that was less pie and mash and more sous vide cuts of meat with pomme puree and micro veg.

All in all, it was the type of place that River wanted to go into. Drinking alone on a work night was never a good start but he needed this.

There were a couple of people already in the pub. Dark oak floors and counter with a hint of rich brass. The seat covers of the booths were a rich red but time had faded the fabric. It felt old. Not the false old of some of the newer pubs. This was a pub with History. The few people looked over when River came in but quickly absorbed themselves back into their pints. The only person who didn’t look away, and seemed out of place, was the bartender. His gaudily coloured shirt was an unpleasant bright spark in the otherwise comforting gloom of the pub.

River approached the bar and looked over the beers on tap. A few microbreweries (this bartender seemed like the type of knob to have them) but then there more usual, expected beers that River would expect a pub like this to have.

“What’ll be mate?”

River looked up and locked eyes with the bartender. Fuck, his eyes. Fuck, his face. Maybe that was why he wore that hideous shirt, to distract people from his impossibly handsome face. To River’s surprise, a pint was put down in front of him.

“But I-” River started but the bartender held up a hand

“Nah, mate I get it.”

Oh fuck. He spotted River staring.

“When I had to deal with Jackson Lamb all fucking day I had that same look on my face.

Wait? What?

*

If anyone asked River why he kept coming back to the Heartford Arms he’d said that it was because Robin gave him cheap pints and on a Slough House salary every little helped. Well, that was part of the truth but also there was another reason…

“River! Good to see you. Usual?”

And there was the second reason.

Beaming smile. Actually happy to see him. All round good person. Knew his order off by heart and would actually talk to him without sneering.

Fuck.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you into something new?”

You grinned at him and you poured his pint. Fuck, you could tempt him into hell and back but instead River shook his head.

“Just the usual, thanks.”

“Come on Riv, don’t you want to try something new?”

River jumped as Robin practically silently walked up behind him. Robin gave him a sympathetic look and when you’re back was turned whispered,

“Sorry, bad habits are hard to break.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You turned back and gave the two of them a beaming smile. You didn’t know about them being Service or Slough House and River wanted to keep it that way. River could sense Robin relaxing next to him and couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Robin got to work with you day in and day out. Robin ran a successful business. Was handsome, charming, funny and had the balls to leave Slough House. Everything that River didn’t have. Why would you looked anywhere other than at Robin?

“Cheers.” said River as he moved into his usual booth

You stared at him with worry etched across your face. You leant closer to Robin.

“Is he ok?” you asked

Robin sighed, knowing he couldn’t tell you the whole truth.

“He will be,” he said, “he just needs his head screwing on.”

*

It’s funny how quickly good things can come to an end.

River had popped out briefly for a cheeky lunchtime pint. Lamb was fuck knows where and Slough House was unusally quiet. Well, now River knew why.

“Hey River! Come join us!”

Min’s voice carried through the quiet pub and River groaned. He slowly approached the others and said,

“How the fuck do you know about this place.”

Louisa nodded towards Robin who was already pouring River his usual.

“Left before you joined,” she said, “did he keep that from you.”

“No. He just didn’t let me know that you guys came in as well.”

River sat down heavily and sighed,

“Well this place is fucking ruined.”

“Don’t say that,” said Min, “where else are you going to find a pint for less than a fiver in London?”

Well, that was true. Even the dirtiest Spoons was still expensive. Robin put down River’s pint and said,

“Don’t let Lamb catch you guys here.”

“We won’t.” said Min

“How many times have we been here and he hasn’t caught us.” said Louisa

“Why, you still afraid of him?” asked Min

“No.” Robin said, a little too quickly earning a smirk from the trio

“Does he even know about this place?” said River

“Oh yeah,” said Robin grimacing, “came in one time and stunk the place out. Fucking arsehole. One day I’m going to bar the cunt.”

“Good luck with that.” said Louisa

“I’d like to be in when that happens.” said Min

“No you don’t,” said Louisa, “you know he’ll just ban us from coming here.”

“What Lamb doesn’t know can’t hurt him.” protested Min

“He’ll find out,” said Robin, “he always has a way of finding these things out.”

Just at that moment the door to the pub opened and the four of them looked over nervously. Instead of the imposing figure of Lamb, a rather tense looking Catherine entered. She was clutching her bag tightly and looking nervous. Robin immediately hopped up and said,

“Catherine. It’s been too long.”

“Yes, well,” she said curtly, “you run a pub.”

“I do serve tea and coffee and soft drinks.”

“Well,” Catherine said, “still…”

Robin winced, realising he put his foot in it.

“Sorry.”

Catherine gave him a soft smile, knowing that he didn’t mean any harm. She turned her attention to the others.

“Jackson wants you three back in the office,” she said, “and for Robin to stop serving you at lunchtime.”

“He said that?” asked Robin with raised eyebrows

“Not quite those words.” admitted Catherine

“Seemed a bit too restrained for him,” said Robin, “but you guys should leave.”

Robin clapped River on the shoulder, causing River to blush and Min and Louisa to share a knowing look. Robin moved behind the bar where you were. River’s gaze drifted to you and you gave him a bright smile before looking back at Robin.  Robin smiled down at you and you laughed at something he said and got out a cocktail shaker.

“Thank fuck,” muttered Min, “she trying to teach him how to make a decent cocktail.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” asked Louisa

“It’s got to be better than the shit cocktails he serves us.”

The rest of the conversation was lost on River. He was too busy focusing on the way Robin touched you and the way you leant into his touch. You laughed at Robin’s attempts at making a cocktail.

“Cute couple.”

Now this snapped River out of his thoughts. He looked down at Catherine who was looking at you and Robin. River clenched his jaw briefly before downing his pint and slamming the glass on the table. He stormed out of the pub, earning a confused look from Catherine.

“What was that all about?” she asked

“River’s pinning.” Min said in a low voice

“Over who?” asked Catherine

“We don’t know,” said Louisa, “although my money’s on y/n.”

“Nah,” said Min as he double checked he had his bag and all his belongings, “it definitely Robin.”

Catherine watched them leave before slowly following. If Louisa or Min had bothered to ask her, she would’ve said that the answer was obvious.

It was both.

[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 🐕

[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]

Barrelling through the wall into your asks for a ficmas request! 🎄Please may I have:

💃 Office Christmas Party with River (and if you can find it in your heart for there to be smut I will be forever grateful 🤭)

Merry Christmas! xx

Christmas Sprit(s)

Ahhh Alex! I'm so happy to give you this 😄

For @cillmequick - shenanigans at the work Christmas party with River. F!Reader insert - no use of y/n, l/n, smut lies within. Squint and you might just see some Lamb/Standish as well 🤭

Can we all guess which motivational video enabled me to complete this today?!

Merry Christmas! 🎄

You hated organised ‘fun’. 

Mostly because it was about as far from fun as you could possibly get. 

Forced proximity, fake laughter, god-awful jokes… all made ten times worse at Christmas.

Why on earth couldn’t you just be on your sofa, with a bottle of Baileys and that new Netflix film that combined Christmas and Magic Mike.

Why did you have to be fraternising? 

You’ve made somewhat of an effort at least, you’d only be doing yourself a disservice if you didn’t crack out the glittery mini-skirt. It was a truly excellent skirt, it deserved to see the light of day at least a few times a year.

Roddy Ho had nearly tripped over his tongue when you walked in. 

You throw back the remains of your cocktail - hoping the tequila will kick in soon and save you from this misery.

Across the room, you spot River’s arrival. Even in the dimly lit room, you can see the way his shirt brings out the bright blue of his eyes. He claps Ho on the back in greeting and shakes JK’s hand, eyes scanning the room for the others. 

Catherine is apparently in a standoff with the head waiter about the table location.

Lamb is next to her, insisting he doesn’t give a shit where the table is, as long as there is one. You notice his hand on the small of her back as he leans into her slightly. The small gesture seems to work, she brushes off the waiter and turns back to give Lamb her attention.

“This is fucking miserable.” Louisa mutters as she shoves another Paloma into your hand. 

“Yep. Thank fuck for tequila.” You clink your glasses together.

At the bar, Shirley is very quick to put her drink on River’s tab. She wanders over to you, successfully brandishing a very blue cocktail, with River in tow. 

The expression on his face is unreadable. 

“What the hell are you drinking?” Louisa’s nose wrinkles in disgust. 

“Blue Hawaiian, wanna taste?” Shirley offers the straw and you take it in turns to give it a try.

Out of the corner of your eye, River is watching with amusement. You can feel his eyes on you, but you know it’s just in the hope that you’ll choke on the disgusting drink.

“Gross,” you declare, turning immediately back to your Paloma. 

“And yours isn't?” River asks.

You offer up the glass, salted around the rim. 

His tongue darts out to take a sip and you have to bite the inside of your cheek.

He keeps his eyes on you as he drinks.

“Nice. Tequila?” You nod, the power of speech is non-existent. There’s salt on his lower lip from the glass and if you weren’t in a room full of people, you’d lick it off yourself. Alas, he gets there first.

Who are you kidding? Of course you wouldn’t actually do that. 

You wanted to though.

But no one needed to know that. 

You kept your crush to the confines of your mind. 

And your bedroom when you’re alone.

If anything, you were remarkably proud that you’d kept your megacrush under wraps for so long. It was almost like a challenge to yourself at this point that you did have a real life secret you’d take to the grave. 

He looks even better than he did a few hours ago at the office, desire coils inside you and you instinctively draw your thighs together. It doesn’t help when he noticeably looks at your mouth, red lipstick is your ‘go to’ for a night out.

You’ve been in your brain a little too long, their conversation has moved on, and you haven’t been paying attention at all.

“... and then she went fucking ballistic that Ho had put mistletoe above her office door!” 

“Well if they weren’t sneaking around -” 

“Is it really sneaking if we all know about it?” 

“I didn’t know, did you know?” 

“Course I fucking did! And she does,” you manage to tune in just as the trio turn to you. 

“Yep. I knew,” you confirm. “What do I know?”

“Were you not listening?” Louisa chastises you. 

You hold the drink up.

“I was admiring Paloma.”

“We’re trying to work out who knows about Lamb and Standish.”

“Ohhh, that. Yeah I did know that,” you admit.

“How the hell did you know?” Shirley asks, outraged.

“I have eyes, Shirl.” 

“Are you seriously the only one who doesn’t know?” Louisa queries.

“Fucking looks like it,” she shorter woman grumbled. “I didn’t know he knew though,” she jabs a thumb in River’s direction.

“I have eyes, Shirl.” He repeats your explanation, looking at you over the edge of his glass as he takes a drink. “I’m very observant, actually.”

“Ha! Yeah, ok, dicksplash.” Shirley laughs.

“Oh yeah, super observant,” you can’t help but join in. He doesn’t say anything in response, but his eyebrows pinch together in a little frown. There’s movement in the room, Catherine is rallying everyone to the table. “Quick, let's get another drink before we have to sit down,” you step away from the group, making a mental note of the round.

Blue Hawaiian (gross).

Paloma (glorious).

Gin and tonic.

Rum and coke.

“I’ll give you a hand,” River follows. The restaurant has gotten busy. Plenty of other office groups with their own parties going on. 

A large man blocks your path on the way to the bar.

“Alright, love?” He asks loudly.

“Fine, thanks.”

“Buy you a drinky?”

“No, thanks.”

“Not even a dirty martini?” He leers, blatantly looking down the v-neck of your top.

“She said no, thanks.” River insists with his hand on your waist. With a little push, he guides you past the man. You’re half expecting a fight, but the man puts his hand on River’s shoulder.

“Fucking legs and tits on that, mate. You jammy bastard.” You hear him mutter, congratulatory. 

Your hand balls into a fist, ready to turn on the wedge heel of your shoes and throw a punch.

River’s hand slides down your arm and covers your fist, working open your fingers and intertwining them with his own.

“Come on, lets get to the bar before Catherine fucking kills us,” he tells you, pulling you along to the bar. His voice is low in your ear, and close enough to draw goosebumps.

It’s too busy to stand side by side at the bar, so he stands directly behind you. 

Even in the heels, he’s a head taller than you. 

You feel him lean down, his chest against your back as he puts his mouth to your ear.

“You look lovely.” He smells incredible. So good, you have to bite back a sigh.

“Thank you. Very observant of you,” you tease.

“If you only knew the things I’d noticed.” He declares, raising a hand to encourage the barman in your direction. You don’t grace him with an answer. Just a laugh and a shake of the head. “That colour suits you.” His head is close to yours again.

“Hi, double gin, double rum, a Paloma and a Blue Hawaiian please?” You ask the barman with a smile. “It’s a black top, River,” you roll your eyes, getting your credit card from your bag.

“I mean the bra.” He replies without lowering his voice. 

The drinks start lining up in front of you.

He traces a line down your shoulder blade alongside the strap of your bra, nudging it back into place from where it has escaped from beneath the strap of your top.

You dare not speak as you try and shake off the heat pooling in your belly from the touch of his hand. You wave your credit card at the machine, thank the barman and pick up two of the drinks. He picks up the other two and you follow him to the table.

Lamb is holding court at one end, with Catherine at his side. 

The others are scattered around and there are two seats left, side by side. 

While you’re busy handing Louisa and Shirley their drinks, he pulls out the chair for you. 

You’re about to thank him when Lamb stands up, demanding everyone's attention.

“Right then, gobshites. Merry fucking Christmas and all that, thank you for your efforts for another shitty year.” He raises his glass, “cheers.” 

You all join in the toast and the food starts arriving.

Catherine is the queen of organisation, a list readily available for anyone who’d forgotten what they’d pre-ordered. The wine flows far too freely and the table is soon sharing food, stories and laughter.

It doesn’t happen often at Slough House where the default tone is sarcasm and derision, so it’s actually nice to be nice to each other.

Everyone is very merry. Ho, JK and Shirley are playing a drinking game - rules unknown - but they appear to be spying on the other company parties going on around you. At the top of the table, Lamb has his arm around Standish who is nursing an orange juice. She leans against him with a soft smile. You’re contemplating a drink for the road with Louisa when you notice River watching you.

There’s that unreadable expression again. 

“I think I’m going to head off,” you tell Louisa.

“Nooo! Have another!” She pleads.

“My bed is calling,” you tell her with a giggle. 

“Paloma neeeeeds you,” she all but begs. She's not wrong. Tequila for the road makes sense, it's cold outside, the smooth agave would warm you up. 

“Go on then, twist my arm,” you bop her on the nose with a festive red-polished fingertip. 

“Gin?” She asks River, who nods and downs the last splash in his glass. 

The last drink is perfect, but you're on the drunker side of tipsy and ready for your warm bed. 

You frown at your phone like your granny does, and try to bring up the Uber app.

“I've got it,” he mutters quietly next to you. 

Chairs have moved around, tables pushed out of the way for the more social groups who want to dance, and his chair has ended up even closer to yours. You feel the muscles in his thigh as he leans into you to get to his opposite pocket. “10 minutes. Can go past yours on the way to mine?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you murmur. 

You should probably check whether anyone else needs to jump in as well. 

“We're going to the cluuuuub!” Shirley sings loudly from the centre of a Louisa and Ho sandwich. 

“Enjoy -”

“You're coming too!”

“No, I'm not.”

“But you have to,” she insists with a pout.

“Nah, I'm too pissed -” this time it's Louisa who cuts you off.

“Fuck that, if she's making me go to a club then you're coming as well. River, cancel the Uber.” 

“But -”

“Cancel. The. Uber.” Louisa told him through gritted teeth. 

“Yep, done.”

“River,” Catherine appeared anxiously beside him. “You will make sure the girls get back safely?”

“Course he will, Standish. He knows I'll have his balls if he doesn't,” Lamb holds her coat out. “C’mon, I'll buy you a bag of chips on the way home. I'm still starvin’ after that poncy rubbish.”

“They'll be fine, I promise. I might even persuade them to drink some water.” River assures her.

“Fat fuckin’ chance, pal,” Shirley barks a loud laugh as she shoves your coat into your hands. “Get ya coat, you've pulled.” She winks with a subtle nod towards River. 

*

The bar she takes you all to is even busier. 

“More drinks!” Louisa shouts over the noise and points at the bar. 

You form a single file conga line. Linked hands and fingers hooked on belt loops holding you all together. 

River's hand is attached to your hip, simultaneously pushing you just enough to keep you close to Shirley in front, but also pulling you closer to him. 

At the bar, you crush up against each other. 

With the crowd, it's impossible for anyone else to see how low his hand has slipped on the small of your back. 

You chance a look up at him while he's looking past you to Shirley. He continues talking to her while you take in his profile. 

Stubble just long enough to be called a beard, angular nose. 

Those blue eyes. 

Your social battery is just about on its arse but once someone - Ho, obviously - passes you a fortifying shot of something disgusting, you and that sequined mini skirt are up and dancing. 

You can feel River's eyes on you but you’d rather keep your back to him and try and carry on as casually as you can, the drink tells you that if you turn around, you know you won’t be able to stop staring. 

At least with your back to him, you can't see him. Plus you know your arse looks great in this skirt, it was literally the sole reason for buying it in the first place.

He's taking the chaperone duty seriously, not wanting to get on Catherine's bad side. 

Roddy has managed to grab a couple of seats at the bar so you leave Louisa and Shirley on the dance floor and squeeze in between them. You take a sip of River's drink, yours is long finished. 

“Help yourself.” He smirks, his hand moving to your hip again, hidden by the darkness of the bar. You put a hand on his thigh and lean in slightly, taking some of the pressure off your feet. You’re close enough that he can see your breath hitch as his thumb finds a patch of exposed skin at the waistband of your skirt. 

You glance across at Ho, but he's distracted by a party of girls in tiny elf costumes. 

“He's not looking, don't worry,” River says into your ear. His nose nudges your hair aside, his lips brush your earlobe and your knees buckle. 

The hand you have on his thigh grips a little tighter, leaving crescent moon nail indents in his jeans. 

Your breath trembles as you exhale.

You turn your head slightly, feeling his stubble graze your cheek.

The tiniest of whimpers escapes your mouth. Impossible to hear over the noise of the bar.

The gentle kiss on the pulse point under your ear tells you he heard it anyway. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” You ask quickly, pushing your nerves down. He nods, pulling back from you a little, and finishes most of his drink. He offers the last of it to you.

“Need to try and get them out of here,” he looked across at Shirley and Louisa who were doubled over laughing. “I promised Catherine.”

“I'll get them,” the pressure of your hand on his thigh lightens as you stand wholly on your own feet again, wincing a little. 

It takes longer than you'd like. Apparently Shirley is very into nostalgic Christmas party songs so she's currently moshing around the dance floor to Slade. 

Finally, you drag them both with you, one in each hand like naughty toddlers. 

“I don't wanna go!” Shirley stamps her foot. Literally stamps her foot. Ho thinks it's hilarious. 

“I do, I'm fucking knackered. I want to sit on my kitchen floor and eat a ham salad sandwich.” Louisa muses.

“Oh,” Shirley looks at her in wonder. “That does sound… sooo good, actually. Yeah let's go,” she holds onto River's arm, unsteadily letting go with one hand to pull on her coat, and swapping to the other hand. “Thanks, Riv,” she pats his cheek. 

“It's a bit unsettling having you be nice to me, Shirley,” he grins at her. 

“Back on form tomorrow, tosser.” She promises with a lopsided, tired smile. She lets him put an arm around her shoulder, his other hand reaches behind to take yours, while you make sure you have Louisa. Poor Roddy tears himself away from the sexy elves and brings up the rear.

Outside, the booze hits you. 

Fuck. 

Had you seriously just propositioned River Cartwright?

He was clearly just going to push you into the next taxi and go home, like any sensible person would. 

“Right then, Lou and Shirl, time to go, go, Ho,”

“With you?” Shirley squints. 

You're cuddled up to Louisa, keeping warm and upright. 

“That's right, Roddy Ho is hot to go and you ladies are coming with me.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you if you don't stop rhyming Ho and go,” Louisa tells him tiredly. She sounds somewhat sober.

“Yeah, alright,” he deflates a little. 

Louisa presses a warm kiss to your cheek and tilts her head to whisper in your ear. 

“Be careful,” she says urgently. “Do not be afraid to say no. He's not going to think badly of you if you do.” 

You blush, ashamed that you’ve been so obvious.

Bloody tequila.

“Come on then, let’s go. If I stay out here any longer I’ll need to pee.” Shirley bounces on the balls of her feet. They pile into a cab with Roddy reeling off the addresses one by one.

“Be a good girl!” Ho shouts to you as they drive off. 

Bloody tequila.

While you’re admonishing the tequila, River has summoned a cab. He holds the door open for you to slide across the back seat. You give the driver your address and River does the same.

The driver is speeding through traffic before you even have a chance to search for a seatbelt. You haven’t moved quite far enough along the seat, so as he rounds each corner, you're pushed further into River.

“Sorry,” you mumble as another corner is taken at a higher speed than necessary. It smushes you into River’s side again. “Jesus, is this guy ready to finish or something.” 

He puts a hand on your thigh, “you ok?”

“Yeah fine.” The heat of his hand lights up your skin. 

You both look at his hand on your leg, and then back to each other. 

The streetlights illuminate you both and then send you into darkness again. 

You don’t know if it was an unconscious move or deliberate, but his thumb brushes gently in small circles on your bare skin. 

You’re sure he must be able to see your heart pounding through your top. 

As he leans into you, his hand moves up another inch and as you gasp at the sensation, he lightly kisses you.

“Here we are, then.” The taxi driver interrupts. 

River reaches for his wallet but you hand over twenty quid before he can get there. 

He steps out of the car and extends a hand to help you out.

“You coming back in, fella?” the driver asks. 

River looks down at your hand to find he’s still holding it.

“No thanks, mate.” 

You’ve barely got the front door closed behind you before he’s pushing you up against it and kissing you with a fierceness you were desperate for. 

Your hands worked fast, pushing his jacket down his arms and onto the floor with a thud, and pulling him back to you by his t-shirt. 

He’s got one hand up in your hair and the other is on your leg, halfway up the skirt while he kisses your jawline. 

His body presses against you and you can feel him, hard through his jeans.

You bring up the leg he’s got a hand on and he hooks it over his hip, it tilts your lower body further into his and he is so close to where you need him it sends you dizzy. 

It's impossible to disguise the neediness of your moans and the hand that he has up your skirt is moving further up to grip the fleshy soft spot between your hip and thigh. 

"God, River -," you whine, your hips canting towards his.

"Sure you want this?" 

You nod against his shoulder. 

"Talk to me, babe," he asks. 

A reasonable request given that your blood probably has an 80% tequila content.

"Yes, yeah I'm sure," you're pulling at his t-shirt, dragging it over his head.

When he mutters "good girl," against your collarbone, you're certain you could come there and then. 

He traces the seam of your knickers with his fingers, feeling just how wet you are for him, "jesus," he murmurs against your lips. 

He slips his fingers inside you and presses his thumb to your clit. 

Your knees buckle and he presses you harder into the door. 

The foot you still have on the ground is on tiptoes but you can tell he’s got you. 

He seems to know exactly what you need, and just when you're at the brink, grasping for the release that's just out of reach, he kisses you again. 

It's hot and rough and sends you right over the edge. 

“Fuck, River,” you moan against him, “fucking hell -”

He gives you a minute, a slightly softer kiss, and takes back his fingers from your still clenched thighs. 

When he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean, you quickly realise you don’t need a minute, you only need him. 

Your shaking hands fumble with the button of his jeans until he takes over and does it himself, he's dug out a condom from his wallet. You're still fully clothed, still wearing the wedge ankle boots that, with his help, have you at exactly the right height for him to push into you. 

It's everything. 

Everything you've fantasised about since the day you were introduced.

He thrusts into you using your hips as leverage, your heel grazing the back of his thigh. 

Your hands hold fast to the back of his neck and his shoulder, 

"River, fuck, you feel so good," your name is reverent on his lips as he comes but he doesn’t stop until you’re there too. 

His pace slows as his hips stutter, and your head rests in the crook of his neck while you catch your breath. 

All at once, he's gentle again, carefully bringing your leg back down and making sure you're steady on your feet. 

He looks a little sheepish as he steps back away from you, taking your hands to help you stand up away from the back of the door.

"You ok?" He asks, still breathless. 

You pull your skirt back down into place, his eyes on your legs as you do so. 

"Yeah, yeah fine. You?"

"Yeah, course." 

He looks like he can’t get out of there fast enough, his hesitation and unease rub off on you. "I should go though -"

"Yeah, no I figured as much."

Partly true, but there is still an element of surprise.

"It's just been a fucking long day, y'know?" He explains, tidying himself up and looking around for his t-shirt and jacket.

"Yeah, I hate Christmas parties." You agree. 

He must have seen the brief look of hurt that crossed your face, "not that it was a mistake… but maybe, probably shouldn't have happened? Fuck, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a fucking dick. We’ve both had a lot to drink -"

"I get it, River. It was fun, but it didn't mean anything." 

It didn't mean anything. 

Probably the biggest lie you've ever told, and it's out of your mouth like you knew it had to be said all along. 

“Right…” He looks confused, almost as if he expected tantrums and anger. “So we’re -”

“We’re fine,” you insist. “G’night.”

*

“... I…” Louisa frowns, holds up a finger to prevent you from interrupting, and tries again. “I… didn’t picture him just… leaving.” You pass her the biscuits and wrap your hands back around your mug of tea. 

“Well, he did.” Another email pings in from Catherine two floors above your head. “Probably for the best. We drank so much -”

“Bullshit, we all had. You said yes, didn’t you? Like it was totally clear that you wanted to…” she raises her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh yeah, he knew I wanted to. Look, it’s fine, it’s out of our system now. We wanted to know, and now we do, end of story.”

“Hmmm.”

“Don’t hmmm me.”

“Is that why you’re hiding?”

“I’m not hiding, this is my office.”

“Which you’ve barely left.”

“Terribly sorry, I have work to do. You know how it is,” you brush her off with a grin and open Catherine’s email.

You’re halfway through her list of fraudulent bank transfers when you notice how dark it has gotten outside. 

Louisa said goodbye at least an hour ago, you were only going to do a couple more and then leave right after her, but time had drifted. 

You’re only lit by the computer monitor so you don’t notice River until he’s standing right by your desk making you jump.

“Fuck me, River! Why didn’t you put a light on?!”

“I came in to turn your screen off, I didn’t know you were even here!” 

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Gone, it’s nearly 7pm.”

“Oh. I didn’t realise the time.” You’re cursing not leaving when Louisa did. 

Work has been fine in the few days since the Christmas night out, but it’s easier with a buffer. 

Without someone else filling the gaps, the lapses in conversation feel huge. “Trying to get this done before we break up.”

“Yeah. I’ve hardly seen you since…” he trails off, unsure how to finish the sentence he started.

“Since the other night,” you finish for him.

You feel your heart rate speed up as he looks at you.

There’s something in his gaze again, as there had been at the party, but it’s dark and you’re sure you’re just imagining it.

“Since then,” he agrees quietly. 

There’s a moment of silence that should really be filled, but you're damned if you know what to say.

You stand up so he’s not completely towering over you.

It doesn’t help.

Your mind is consumed by the memories of that night.

You can still feel the slight burn where his beard had rubbed against your skin.

The fingertip bruises on your hips from his tight hold.

The tension in your belly that you can’t seem to quell - no matter how much you draw on the memories of that night.

The heat coils tighter again as you struggle to ignore it. 

“Are you sure we’re ok?” He asks suddenly. 

There’s a hint of vulnerability in his question. 

He’s genuinely concerned about your feelings.

You hesitate, unsure how to respond. 

You know you should brush it off as a drunken encounter, but the intensity had taken you entirely by surprise.

The way your body had responded, the empty ache afterwards.

You hadn’t anticipated the effect he’d have on you in such a short time.

The thought of what you were missing out on both terrifies and excites you.

“I’m sure, River,” you reassure him. “I don’t regret it, I knew what I was doing.”

He looks visibly relieved, even in the dim light.

“No regrets. Huh,” he murmurs, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

You can’t seem to stop looking at it. 

“That’s good,” you hear him add. 

“How about you?” 

The question is out of your mouth before you can stop to think.

You really don’t need to know the answer.

“No. Not about that night.”

“Good,” you whisper. “That’s good too.”

“Well, possibly one, actually.”

Your heart sinks as you brace yourself for the inevitable. 

“Oh?” you manage to squeak, your voice betraying your anxiety.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have rushed off?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

You can feel his gaze on you, studying your face. 

His eyes land on your lips and linger there, as if he can’t help himself.

“That skirt was…” he huffs a little laugh, a shake of his head. “You looked incredible.”

The compliment catches you off guard, especially today when you’re wearing the biggest, warmest jumper you can find. 

“Bit of a contrast to today,” you point out with a small smile. “But this is much warmer.”

River laughs, “I can see that.” He takes a step closer, his eyes raking over your body. “You’re swimming in that thing.”

Your heart is thundering in your chest. 

There’s no alcohol to dull the senses this time, everything feels electrified.

You could go up in flames with just one look.

Your thighs press together desperately, clenching on nothing.

“I should have had a better look when I had the chance,” he says quietly. Hesitantly. 

His words send a shiver down your spine.

“Another regret,” you tell him. 

He smiles, satisfied that he hasn’t overstepped.

“Exactly,” he agrees, brushing your hair from your eyes.

He’s standing so close to you now that you can feel the heat from his body.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, you feel his fingers at the bottom of your jumper, toying with the knit. 

His breath ghosts across your cheek and you lean into it.

“Yes?”

He weighs his words carefully. 

“Did you want me to leave?”

You shake your head slightly, “no,” you whisper.

He lets out a small breath, his hands bunching in the thick jumper as they move to your waist.

“That’s good,” he mirrors his earlier response.

Your gaze is locked on his mouth as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

As he leans down to kiss you, you feel the edge of the desk press into the backs of your thighs.

The kiss is insistent and demanding, somehow more confident without alcohol.

He pulls you closer, his tongue parting your lips as he deepens the kiss. Your hands reach up to grip his shoulders.

The kiss turns more urgent, his tongue tangling with your own while one of his hands wanders underneath the oversized jumper to touch your warm skin. 

The evidence of his desire is hard against your groin and he shifts to push his thigh between your legs.

You can’t help the soft sigh that escapes as the pressure against your core sends a wave of heat through you. 

River kisses down your neck, biting gently at your pulse.

His hand under your jumper reaches further up to cup your breast over your bra. His touch is gentle and light at first but he soon grips you more firmly, one hand on your hip keeping your body flush with his.

He mumbles something against your skin, his breath ragged and uneven as he continues placing hot kisses on your neck. He brings his hand out of your jumper and cups your chin, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip.

“Want you now,” he insists, his voice rough. “But not here.”

He pulls away, his forehead resting against yours. 

“Roddy’s probably got cameras,” he explains on seeing your disappointed pout. “Besides, this time I want to be patient enough to at least take your clothes off first.”

“Let’s go then,” you push him away from the desk so you can stand properly. “You’ve got a present to unwrap.”

[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

[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]

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

[daydreamgoddess14]

The Escape Artist - Chapter 8

Thank youuuuuu for all the love on the last chapter!

What a rollercoaster that was! And now, we're racing towards the ending - but it's not quite over yet, of course. There's still plenty to resolve!

Masterlist

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5 | CH 6 | CH 7

Tag list: @moonmaiden1996 @theskytraveler @acrackintheteacup @succulentthief

He hadn’t been asleep.

Of course, at that point he couldn’t exactly let Ella know that.

He’d stirred at the sound of Clover’s excited little voice in the room but they’d all been so distracted with Lamb taking her to the vending machine that they hadn’t noticed him squinting at the fluorescent lights. 

He’d closed his eyes against the glare of them but Ella clearly hadn’t realised and once she’d started talking, he couldn’t admit that he was awake. 

She’d have bolted from the room and never returned. 

So he’d stayed quiet and stayed still until Clover and Lamb returned with armfuls of sweets and chocolate. 

Clover had been over the moon to see him awake, Ella had to stop her from scrambling up onto the bed. She bounced happily on the balls of her feet as close to him as she could get, and then had left him with strict instructions not to eat the chocolate she’d just brought. 

Ella had stood away from him after her confession, as if she’d scared herself.

Since then he’d been awake for each - sometimes twice daily - visit. And now he wasn’t sure how to admit that he’d heard everything she’d said.

He was looking forward to this visit more so than the others. 

He was exhausted but it had been worth it. The reward would be worth it.

She’d told him on her way out the previous night that she wouldn’t be there until the following evening. Lamb needed her at the office so she’d enlisted Shirley to collect Clover from school so she could squeeze in an hour to visit him. 

Clover was less than impressed at being left behind.

Being confined to bed for nearly a week was giving him cabin fever, but his test results had been sketchy so the nurses had barely let him move. The doctor had finally given him the ok to get up and out of bed, so he’d spent all day walking unsteadily to and from the bathroom so he could surprise Ella.

His door had been left ajar by the nurses so he heard her before he saw her. Chatting away to the staff at the desk as if she hadn’t had the week from hell.

“Are you decent?” She asked as she approached the door. Seeing him standing for the first time in nearly a week, she dropped the bag of snacks and books and rushed to his side. “Shit, you’re up. Are you ok? Are you supposed to be standing up?” She demanded sternly. She slipped an arm around his waist and tried to guide him carefully back to the bed.

“I’m fine, just went to the loo.”

“But you’re not supposed to be out of bed?!”

“Doctor said it’s fine.” She looked sceptical. “Promise I’m not lying.”

“Which is exactly what a liar would say,” she muttered, unsurely removing herself from his side.

He moved slowly back to the bed.

“You scared me, are you sure you’re ok to be up?”

“Definitely sure, I am fully topped up with blood and all of my tests are coming back ok, at last.” 

She dropped into the visitor chair with a heavy sigh. He eyed her closely, she looked much better than the first day she’d visited with Clover. 

Gaunt with dark circles under her eyes, she’d looked as bad as he’d felt. 

“Are you sleeping?” He asked worriedly.

“Hmm, so so. I get a couple of hours.”

“Nightmares?” She nodded. “What about?”

“All sorts. What if you hadn’t gotten to Clover in time, what if I hadn’t gotten to you -”

“You did. It all worked out.”

“You’re still in a hospital bed, River.” She rolled her eyes.

“Only for another couple of days.”

“That’s not the point, you could have died. Fucking reckless idiot.” He could see she was still too angry with herself to accept his reasoning so he changed the subject.

“No Clover?”

“She’s got gymnastics club at school. Shirl’s bringing her here in a bit.”

Happy he’d still see her later, he took the opportunity to talk about her. She’d made sure Ella brought her every time so far, so they hadn’t had a chance to talk alone about how the events had affected her.

“How'd she take the news?” 

Ella shrugged. She kicked off her trainers and leaned back in the visitor chair, putting her feet up on the bed.

“She says she's OK, she was more worried about you to be honest. JK is still with her at school, they both didn’t seem to want to give that up too quickly. Which suits, because we still have Flyte’s boys outside the house.”

“Has she said whether he hurt her?”

“Apparently not. He only took her there to figure out what to do next, he didn’t have much of a plan. She told me he kept going on about how he gave me - gave us - everything we ever wanted. Money, jewellery, whatever… she said -” Ella paused, her eyes fixed on the sheets of the bed. “She said that she told him ‘mummy doesn’t care about that, she just wants you not to hurt her’.” She sniffed and shook her head. “She shouldn’t know stuff like that, River.” she said weakly, her eyes filled with tears.

“She’s right though.”

“I’m going to get her set up with a therapist. The school recommended someone and they can fit her in next week.”

“That’ll be good for her. And you?”

“Me? Therapy? I don’t do talking about stuff,” she smiled. “Took me six months to talk to you.” She nudged his leg with her toe.

“True. Who painted those?” Ella’s toes were painted sloppily in pink glitter polish.

“Who do you think? I can get her to do yours as well if you’re interested? She’d love that.”

“Nah, not if she’s gonna do a shit job like that,” he teased. Ella feigned outrage.

“Don’t be rude about my kid, judgy.” She reached for the grapes on the table and launched one at him which he surprisingly caught in his mouth. They both stared open mouthed in shock.

“Did you see that?!” He grinned. “I would never be rude about Clo. Pretty sure she’s the only kid I like.” “She’s the only kid you’ve ever met,” Ella pointed out, throwing another grape which missed. 

“She’s got us all wrapped around her little finger.” He admitted. “What’d Lamb need you for anyway?”

“You will never, ever guess.” She looked worried. “Taverner wanted to see me.”

“She knows?”

“We don’t think so, not yet anyway.” She took her feet from the bed and leaned forward to put her elbows up instead so she could recount the visit in full.

*

Diana Taverner looked wildly out of place in Slough House. Perched on a rickety chair in the kitchen while Ho stared at her with a dropped jaw.

“Close your mouth. You look like a fish.” He immediately did as he was told, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed his tongue back into his mouth. She tapped perfectly manicured nails against her bag. “Where is he?” She asked, pinning her gaze onto Ella.

“Who?”

“Your husband, of course?” Across the kitchen, Catherine dropped the teaspoon loudly into the cleanest mug she could find.

“I… I don’t know?”

“Are you sure about that? Because we’ve lost track of him and -”

“Lost track of him? Look, I don’t know where he is. He managed to get bail and they released him over the weekend. My solicitor didn’t even know.”

“He hasn’t come to find you? Or the girl?”

“You’d know, surely? With Flyte’s dogs parked outside the safe house that you authorised reporting back to you?”

“With shared duties,” she looked suspiciously at Louisa and Lamb, “I don’t have all of the information.”

“I’ve offered it, Tav.” She baulked at the nickname Lamb used. “You said you didn’t have the resource or the inclination to fully staff Cole’s little family drama.”

“If I find out something has happened -”

“You’ll what? Go on, I’m sure she’d love to know the truth?” He gestured at Ella who looked bemused.

“What truth? What the fuck is going on?”

“I really don’t have time for this,” Taverner stood abruptly.

“Don’t even think about leaving -” Ella crossed to block the door.

“Cole, please do remember who you’re speaking to.” The older woman demanded.

Ella stood her ground.

“I might have known you’d be involved, why else would you be here? I’ve had a lot on my plate recently - as you can imagine - so I hadn’t really thought about how Lamb got you on board with helping me. But there’ve been a few things here and there which just don’t add up.” Ella paced in front of Taverner while Lamb watched from the doorway. “A safe house? Very kind, even in the most extreme circumstances. Dogs posted outside the house all night? Blimey… I was honoured. Whatever did I do to deserve such special treatment?”

“You tell me,” Taverner rolled her eyes.

“I led you to him.” Ella sighed. “Didn’t I? And you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t slip away again. Except now, you’ve lost him.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Ten years.”

“Christ, I’m surprised he didn’t marry you the day you turned eighteen.”

“So was I. He waited til he’d knocked me up instead.”

“I suppose he thought you getting a job at the Park would be a boon for him?”

“That was his thinking, yes. I’m guessing you were thinking the same thing?”

“Background checks come in handy, occasionally. When we found out your link to him, we prioritised your training to get you into the Park sooner. Where we could keep an eye on him.”

“Why not move on him earlier?”

“Some of his work was actually useful to us. Then he began giving us rather more trouble, so it was time to let you think his downfall was imminent.”

“I take it you also wanted him back out of prison pretty quickly?”

“Oh, of course. I only wanted to reign him in a little. A shame he couldn’t control his temper. Then I thought we’d help him out this time by ensuring he was bailed nice and quickly.” She shook her head, the disappointment written all over her face. “But he’s cleared off. No activity on his bank accounts or car… And yet you claim to know nothing?”

“Why send me here?”

“To keep you around until I needed you again. Which I do now, to find him.”

“So keep fucking looking, because I don’t know where he is.” Ella spat bitterly.

“Where’s Cartwright?” She asked curiously. Ella was amazed she didn’t already know. She realised in that moment just how close Lamb kept his cards to his chest. Nothing got out unless he wanted it to.

“Flu. Coughing up a lung in his flat, don’t want him infecting us.” Taverner frowned slightly, debating whether to push Lamb further, catch him in a lie.

“You should get the vaccine,” she said dryly. “It’s included in the benefits package.”

“Benefit my arse. Shouldn’t you be leaving now?” And with cavalier dismissal, Lamb successfully kicked Diana Taverner out of Slough House.

*

“She knows.” River declared once Ella had finished.

“Nah, she’d have said something?”

“Would she? Or would she wait until it was useful?” Ella slumped back in the chair.

“Shit. What am I gonna do?”

“Wait it out. See what happens.” He advised as thunderous footsteps pounded in the corridor outside.

“You’re sitting up!” Clover squealed happily.

“I’ve been out of bed,” he told her proudly. Her eyes widened.

“No? Really? Can you get out soon?”

“Soon, I hope.” Before Ella could stop her, Clover had climbed onto the other end of the bed, pushed River’s legs out of the way and sat down cross legged in front of him.

“Will you play scrabble with me?” She asked, pulling the small travel game out of her backpack before pushing the bag over to Ella. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as she listened to their game, listened as Clover and Shirley accused River of cheating followed by his strenuous denials. 

He watched her sleep, conscious that Shirley was also there.

“Got my eye on you,” she told him quietly.

“I know, I know.” He tore his eyes from Ella and turned to apologise to Shirley who grinned.

“Just pulling your pisser. You’re alright, I suppose.”

“Thanks Shirl.”

“Fuck her up though and I’ll fuck you up.” She warned, chancing a glance at Clover who was engrossed in making a word from her pile of letters. “Because it’s not just Ella.”

“No, it’s not.” He looked at the little girl, accepting the weight of Shirley’s words.

“I’ve had a few too many temporary stepdads, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” He thought of his mother’s inconsistent role in his life, knowing Shirley was right. “Anyway,” she reached out and kicked Ella’s foot. “Time for us to go, sleeping beauty. Fuck only knows how you’re managing to sleep in that chair but you can’t sleep in your own sodding bed.”

“Yep, ok.” She muttered, her voice thick with sleep. She stretched her arms up, yawning widely. “C’mon Clo, say bye to River.” She toed her trainers back on without undoing the laces and moved around the room to gather up the stuff Clover had strewn all over the place. 

“Who’s on the rota tomorrow?” He asked.

“Catherine’s coming tomorrow. She’s bringing you some more clothes,” Shirley wrinkled her nose, “and Louisa as well.”

“And then hopefully I’ll be allowed out.”

“We’re coming too!” Clover grinned. 

“Are we?” Ella asked. 

“Yeah, you’re the one who said it’s not the same when you don’t see -”

“Ok, time to go,” Ella blushed, swiftly interrupting Clover. “See you tomorrow.” She gave him a small wave and he watched them all hustle from the room, Shirley turning back to him to mime gagging in disgust. He gave her the finger and looked down at the scrabble board Clover had left behind. 

*

He was sick of being treated like an invalid. It had been nearly two months since the night at the storage unit. 

Eddie’s body still hadn’t been given up by the Thames, though with Taverner’s calls to Lamb becoming a regular occurrence, it seemed she’d long given up on him turning up alive. 

She hadn’t outright stated that she believed him to be dead, but her demand for answers was growing.

He finished the file he’d been working on and dumped it in the top of the nearest box before standing to get the roll of tape from Ella’s desk. 

She snatched it from his reach.

“Ella,”

“River,” she whinged.

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You bloody do. Step away from the box,” she ordered. “Please.” She brushed past him and folded the top of the box over and taped it up.

“I’m capable of taping up a box and moving it?”

“I never said you weren’t.”

“You kinda did, with the whole doing it for me, thing?” He looked away as the tightly held box pulled the neckline of her top down.

“Stop whinging. If you want to do something, make a brew.” She told him, taking the box through to the bulging archive room. 

“I’ve been given the all clear, picture of health,” he complained, hunting for more teabags.

“So you tell me.”

“And it’s healing really well,” he told her, petulantly lifting up the edge of his t-shirt to show her the pink, puckered scar.

“So I see,” she peered at it sympathetically. “Right, that’s me done. Time for parents evening.” She pulled a face as she packed her things.

“What about the tea?”

“Give it to Shirl, I only got you to make it to keep you busy for a minute.”

“Oh great, thanks. Like I’m a bloody irritating child?”

“More like a puppy. You and Eugene - interchangeable at this point.” She grinned. “Ugh, this is going to be painful,” she moaned, thinking back to parents' evening.

“It’s hardly going to be bad news, is it?”

“No, but I hate all the judgey grown ups. I might as well waltz in there with a neon sign over my head. Everyone come look at the terrible mother, the worst woman who ever lived…” She called across the hallway to Shirley and Louisa who were huddled around Shirley’s computer. “See you guys tomorrow?”

“Bye El,” Louisa waved. Shirley didn’t look away from the screen.

River watched as Ella headed towards the stairs. 

He hesitated before gathering his courage.

“Hey, wait,” he called out, taking a few strides towards her.

“What’s up?”

“I just…” He paused, nerves kicking in. “Don’t listen to them, ok? Clo is an amazing kid because of you. You’re a fucking brilliant mum. You and Clo are perfect. In one ear, and out the other - don’t listen to a word they say.” Ella looked up at him, eyes wide.

“I… I’m not -”

“Just say thank you, River.”

“Thank you, River. Really, thank you.” She smiled shyly, still taken aback by his words.

“Have you got a minute longer?”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna be late. I really have to go. Talk tomorrow?”

River’s heart sank a little as he saw her anticipation to leave, to not be the parent who shows up late.

“Yeah, sure. Talk tomorrow.” She grinned and hurried down the stairs. He turned back to the office to see Shirley and Louisa staring at him. “What?” he asked coolly, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks.

“Oh my god, were you finally going to say something?” Louisa asked.

“No, I wasn’t going to say anything.” He said, nonchalantly.

“You were going to ask her out, weren’t you?!” Shirley said gleefully.

River’s face flushed, he knew there was no point in denying it.

“I… yeah, I was thinking about it. But it’s no big deal, seriously.”

“As if she’s going to turn you down, especially after going on about what a great mum she is.” Louisa nudged Shirley. 

River looked up, raising an eyebrow sceptically. 

“What makes you so sure about that?”

“Girls talk.” Louisa shrugged. 

River’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“Wait, you’ve been talking about me?” He didn’t miss Shirley’s eyeroll.

“Alright, Romeo, relax. You did get shot saving her daughter, maybe it’ll just be a gratitude shag.” Shirley grinned, clearly enjoying teasing him. 

River frowned at the nickname.

“Nothing is going on, I’m not sure it ever will.” He told them firmly, returning to his desk. 

They followed him.

“Please,” Louisa scoffed, “What are you waiting for?”

“She’s been through so much, how do I know it’s the right time?”

“Maybe there is no perfect time, dickhead. She’s a grown woman, she knows her own mind.”

“Don’t underestimate her,” Louisa added.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I just don’t want to fuck it up.”

“One step at a time.”

“And don’t wait forever.”

“And don’t tell Ho.”

“Or Lamb.”

“Especially Lamb, he’d kill you with his bare hands.”

*

He clock watched till the end of the day, preoccupied with everything Shirley and Louisa had said.

Lost in thought, he found himself standing on Ella’s doorstep, a bag of takeout in hand. 

He felt momentarily bewildered by how he’d even gotten there. 

As if he’d left work on autopilot and wound up at his usual destination.

He knocked and heard Clover shouting in response that it was for her.

He chuckled, hearing her excited voice and wondered how him turning up had already been anticipated.

She flung open the door with a beaming smile.

“Oh. It’s you!”

“Not who you expected?”

“I’m waiting for Lucy,” she grinned, “I’ve got a sleepover!”

“Ahh, nice! You won’t want this then, I brought you guys some food?”

“Well I’m making pizza with Lucy,” she peeked at the bag, “unless it’s something good?”

“No, no. You’re having pizza,” he teased, holding the bag out of reach. She stuck her tongue out.

“Muuuum! River’s here.” As Clover called out for Ella, River felt a flutter of nerves.

“Don’t be daft, River’s not coming over tonight -, oh. What’re you doing here?”

River smiled at Ella’s surprise. Her words of protest caught in her throat. 

“Surprise,” he said with a half-smile, holding up the bag of takeout. “I brought food.”

“That's… thank you. That’s great. Clo’s just on her way out, though?”

He nodded, glancing at Clover who still hovered nearby.

“Yeah, I heard. Sleepover, right?”

“Her first one,” Ella grimaced.

“You don’t sound thrilled?” He smiled sympathetically.

“Mum’s being a baby.” Clover filled in.

“That’s understandable, it’ll be weird without you.” He looked at Ella, his gaze lingering on her a bit longer than necessary.

“S’pose so.” The girl shrugged. “She’s got Gene though, hasn’t she?” She took the puppy’s face in her hands and squished it. “Genie’s gonna look after mum,” she told the dog.

River felt someone approach from behind, he realised he was blocking the doorway and turned to see who it was. 

Lucy had arrived, Clover left Eugene excitedly yapping and the two girls shrieks of excitement jumbled together with the dog’s as they hugged. 

River stepped aside, away from the doorway, to let Clover usher Lucy inside.

“Get your stuff then, Clo.” Ella told her daughter.

“Already got it!” Clover said eagerly, grabbing her backpack from the sofa in one hand, and Lucy’s hand with the other.

“Wow, you’re keen,” Ella smiled apologetically at Lucy’s dad. “Something tells me you’re in for a long night.” She leaned down to hug Clover. “Call me if you need me,” she told her, trying to put on a brave face.

“I will,” Clover rolled her eyes. “But don’t worry, mum, I’ll be fine!” She promised, peeling herself away. 

Ella smiled, trying not to show her nerves.

“I know you will. Have fun, ok? You deserve it.” Clover turned back quickly and gave Ella a fiercely tight hug.

“Bye mum,” she whispered with a final squeeze. Bounding out of the door with Lucy, she only turned back again to wave. 

As River pushed the door closed, shutting out the sounds of the girls’ laughter, Ella sagged visibly.

“Parents’ evening went ok then?” He asked.

“We bumped into Lucy’s parents and the girls were relentless in asking to stay over.” She explained.

“She’ll be ok, you know?” He said softly, observing her sad smile.

“Yeah… I know,” Ella’s voice cracked slightly. “It’s just… she’s growing up so fast. One day, she’s not going to need me anymore.”

“She'll always need you,” he assured her. 

"You really think so?" Ella looked at him with a hint of hope in her eyes, as if she desperately needed to believe his words.

"I do," he said sincerely. "But you're allowed to have a life as well. You hungry?”

"I suppose you're right," she conceded, her shoulders relaxing a bit. "And yes, please, I'm starving.”

As they ate and gossiped, River noticed a change in Ella. Her shoulders gradually untensed, and her laughter became more genuine. Her worry over Clover seemed to fade into the background - possibly for the first time ever.

"So, tell me about parents' evening?" He asked.

"Ahh I'm so proud! They said she's doing so well - despite everything. They do want to know how long JK will be sitting in class, though. Apparently he helps one of the reading groups, the kids love him.”

“Can you imagine if they knew who he really was?”

“I'm pretty sure they'd employ him to take out a few of the more annoying parents. Betsy's dad is a fucking knob, JK, teach him a lesson.” She laughed. “Anyway, I'm going to get this stuff cleaned up, do you want a beer?" She asked River.

He glanced at the empty food containers scattered around them and nodded. "Sure, I'll take a beer. Thanks." He started to help clean up the mess on the coffee table. "What are your plans for your night of freedom, then?" He asked.

"Hmm, not much." Ella carried the empty containers to the kitchen, returning a moment later with two cold beers in hand. "Maybe watch some mindless TV, eat ice cream, and try not to think too much.”

"Want some company?" he asked boldly. From his bed, Eugene managed to look offended.

Ella paused, looking surprised by his offer. A mix of emotions played across her face - surprise, uncertainty, and dare he hope, a hint of anticipation? 

"You… you want to stay a bit?" she asked tentatively, her voice wavering slightly.

"Can't leave you here all by yourself, can I?”

Ella's lips curved into a small smile. 

"No, I guess not," she replied, a touch of playfulness in her voice. "I suppose having company wouldn't be so bad. Gene’s not exactly chatty.”

"So bad?" he mimicked with a chuckle. "It wasn't too long ago where you'd barely give me the time of day. Forty words in one day, that's the most I heard you say," he teased

"Oh, shush," she retorted, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. "I did not give you the silent treatment that often!”

"You did. Hiding away from everyone."

"I was scared, I didn't want you all involved in my mess. I couldn't put you in danger."

"Haven't you heard? We laugh in the face of danger. Well, Shirley does, the rest of us fuck off to the pub." He joked.

Ella rolled her eyes, trying to maintain her feigned indignation, but a small laugh escaped her lips. 

"Oh, well, I guess I should have known better than to underestimate your courage when there's gin involved," she teased.

"Ahh I was only brave for Clo, really," he smiled. "And you.”

Ella's eyes softened at his words. 

"I know," she said softly. "And I'm grateful. For both me and Clover.”

He leaned toward her, noting how her tongue nervously darted out and across her lower lip.

River's eyes followed the path of her tongue as it moved, his heart rate quickening at the sight. He leaned closer to her, drawn in by some invisible force that seemed to pull them together.

River's touch was gentle but firm as he cupped her face. 

His fingers threaded through her hair, sending a shiver down her spine. 

He pushed a few wayward strands out of her face, his eyes roaming over her face, drinking in every detail. 

River's lips brushed against hers tentatively at first, as if testing the waters. But as her eyes fluttered shut, a wave of desire washed over him, and he moved closer, deepening the kiss.

River sensed her initial hesitation, but he encouraged her closer to him, his lips moving against hers with growing fervour. He could feel her starting to respond, her body melting against his.

His hands moved from her face to her waist, and pulled her to straddle his lap, her knees pushing into the sofa cushions either side of him.

As she settled onto his lap, River's hands moved up from her waist, tracing the line of her spine, savouring the feeling of her body pressed against his. 

She shivered against him as his fingertips traced down her back. 

"River," she sighed against his mouth.

The sound of his name on her lips sent goosebumps down his spine, his mind briefly clouded by the longing in her voice. His hands trailing lower down her back, their bodies almost completely flush. 

Involuntarily, Ella's hips rolled against him, chasing more pressure, more of his touch. 

"Ella," he murmured, his voice ragged with growing need. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," he murmured against her collarbone.

His words were a stark contrast to the growing tension between them. His lips moved down her throat, tasting her skin, while his hands continued to explore the curves of her body.

"I want this," he whispered, his voice half-muffled against her skin. "But I don't want to pressure you into anything.”

"I'm not sure I'm any good at this," she sighed, a note of worry in her voice. 

River paused, pulling back from her, he could see the doubt in her eyes. 

His fingers moved to caress her cheek tenderly. Her eyes were darker than he'd seen them before, blown with lust. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, she looked beautiful. 

It angered him that Eddie hadn't seen Ella the way he did. That he'd filled her mind with so much doubt and fear. 

“It's embarrassing, River, I should know my own body, my own mind, but I feel like a stranger to myself.”

"You're overthinking it. El, that part of your life is over," he said, his fingers trailing up her thigh, tracing lazy patterns on her legs. “You don't have to carry the weight of anyone's expectations anymore.”

River's words hung in the air, each syllable striking a chord in her heart. He seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear.

His touch was gentle but firm, as if he was trying to reassure her not just with his words but with his presence.

"No expectations," he repeated, his fingers still tracing slow, soothing patterns on her leg. "Just you and me. If that’s what you want?”

She reached for him first, putting her fears to one side. He wanted her to feel worshipped, he wanted her to know how much he wanted her, but more than anything else, he wanted her to trust him. 

The look in her eyes, the touch of her fingers on his skin – it all told him that she wanted this just as much as he did. 

He responded to her eagerness, pulling her closer again, his hands roaming over her body with a mix of tenderness and fervour. Lust washed over him, drowning out all rational thought.

His hand trailed up Ella’s ribs to cup her breast over her thin top, she leaned into his hand and jerked against him.

River groaned at her reaction, his hand gripping her breast more firmly. Her movements, the way she rocked against him, were driving him crazy.

His other hand moved to her hip, his fingers digging into her skin as he guided her movements, increasing the friction between them. He wanted her closer, needed to feel her skin against his.

"Please, River," she whined as he dragged the pad of his thumb over her pebbled nipple.

The sound of her plea made him tremble, awakening a primal sense of need within him. His touch grew bolder, his fingers teasing her through the thin material of her top.

"Please, what?" he asked, his voice a low growl. His eyes were darkened with desire as he looked up at her, enjoying watching her squirm from his touch.

"I need you, I need you to show me -" her hips bucked against his as she ground down on his hard cock.

River's grip on her hip tightened as she pushed against him, his lips curving into a smirk at her needy tone. 

"I'll show you everything," he murmured, his voice deep. He pushed the edge of her top up, exposing more of her skin. His hands roamed over her flesh, exploring every contour.

River wasted no time, his lips eagerly seeking out the newly exposed skin on her chest and neck, trailing a path of kisses down her collarbone, his hands splayed on the expanse of her back, pulling her close against him, the feeling of her bare skin against him sending a thrill through his entire body.

He took her nipple into his mouth, his tongue laved her through the lace of her bra, the fabric providing a maddening friction against her sensitive skin. She arched her back, pressing against him, her breaths coming in needy gasps as desire rippled through her body.

His hands moved to her hips, holding her in place as his mouth continued its assault on her breasts, his teeth grazing the lace and the skin beneath.

His hands kneaded into her ass, holding her tightly to him as she threw her head back, her own hands raking through his hair. He lifted her without warning and twisted them both. As River laid her down on the sofa, she whimpered at the absence of his body against hers. She reached out, pulling him down, needing the contact. 

"Fuck, Ella, I need to show you how much I want you.”

His words sent a flush of heat through her, her hands tracing the planes of his back as she looked up at him. "God," she breathed, her voice trembling with need. “I need you, River.”

Her words, so earnest and vulnerable, sent a primal rush of desire through him. He leaned closer, his body pressing against hers, his hands trailing over her skin, as he whispered, "You have me. I'm right here."

His mouth found her neck, his lips seeking the sensitive skin beneath her ear as he murmured against her flesh, "I'm going to show you just how wanted you are.”

She pushed his top up and over his head and he settled between her thighs, his body covering hers. Her hands trailed up his back and around to his stomach. Her fingertips lightly brushed over his sensitive scar.

“We need to be careful,” she murmured, her eyebrows pinching together with worry.

With her body beneath his, he paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of her, her eyes dark with desire, her skin faintly flushed. His fingers traced the curves of her hips, drawing lazy patterns on her skin.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he told her, his hand dipped beneath the waistband of her leggings, his fingers tracing the soft curve of her hip before trailing lower, the thin material doing little to diminish the heat from her core.

He could feel her shiver beneath his touch, his lips sought out the sensitive skin of her neck, sucking gently at her pulse point. 

As her hips lifted to meet his hand, River felt his touch growing more urgent. He nipped at her collarbone, his teeth grazing her skin, as his fingers continued their slow descent down.

As his fingers reached the edge of her underwear, River paused, his gaze moving to meet hers, seeking permission to go further. 

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice a raspy whisper.

She nodded, and then, as if needing him to hear the words added, "Yes. River, god please -”

Her nod and the sound of her broken plea sent a shot of heat through him, his restraint faltering. 

His fingertips tracing the sensitive skin at the edge of her underwear. River's heart clenched as she whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut in response to his touch. His hand stopped, his fingers still resting against the edge of her underwear, as he softly requested,

"Look at me."

His voice, though gentle, held an underlying urgency, as he wanted – needed – to see her reaction, to watch her fall apart for him.

River's breath caught in his chest, his own heart stuttering at the sight of her as his fingers found her soaking wet - for him. The low moan that escaped her lips, it was like nothing he'd ever heard before.

He continued to push two long fingers into her, his gaze never leaving her face, wanting to memorise every little reaction, every expression of pleasure. He pumped his fingers into her, stretching her open for him. His thumb found the hooded pearl of her clit and circled it, making her gasp. 

“River -” she begged.

The sound of his name, so raw and needy on her lips, urged him on, his fingers curled to brush against her g-spot with every stroke.

He leaned down, his body pressing against hers, his lips skimming her ear. "I'll show you," he murmured against her skin, his voice a rough, gravelly promise. "I'll show you how it's supposed to be.”

River's mouth covered hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure as his tongue tangled with hers.

He worked her through her orgasm, his touch both tender and demanding, as he continued to kiss her, his lips and tongue moving down her neck and collarbone, tasting her skin as she writhed beneath him. 

"Oh god," she breathed shakily, coming down from the high.

River smiled against her skin, feeling the tremors racking her body, peppering soft kisses along her jawline and collarbone as he whispered, "I’m going to need to see you fall apart like that again.”

He looked down at her, watching as she slowly regained her composure, taking in the flush of her skin and the sparkle in her eyes.

"More?" she requested with a sly grin, pulling him back down on top of her. she rolled her hips, feeling his hard cock constrained through his jeans. The feeling of her body underneath his, her grin teasing him almost mercilessly, fueled the aching need that coursed through him.

"More," he echoed, with a ragged laugh.