Work Text:
“Ooh, can we dive into the market?” Robin asked, glimpsing the stalls as they approached Chalk Farm Road. “Sorry, were you in a hurry?”
“Not really,” Strike said, and he meant it. They had all the photographs of the building that they needed and had taken note of where all the CCTV cameras were, and were now strolling back towards the Tube. It was too late in the day to bother starting anything new; his thoughts were vaguely drifting towards a curry and a beer before turning in for the night. It was a relief to have no evening work planned for once.
“Great, thanks,” Robin said. “It’s just it’s Vanessa’s birthday soon, and I have no idea what to get her. I just need something little and not boring. I’m sure I can get some inspiration here.”
She hesitated and glanced up at him. “You can go on back if you want,” she said. “You don’t have to come.”
Normally nothing would have induced Strike to go shopping with a woman when a curry and a pint were a feasible alternative. But Robin wasn’t just any woman. For a start, he suspected she’d not be one to take ages dithering over choices. And... well, he’d have happily followed her anywhere.
“I don’t mind,” he said. “I’ve got nowhere I need to be.”
They entered Camden Market, and Robin was captivated by all the stalls on offer. She moved up and down the rows, running her eyes over the wares, smiling at the stallholders. What would Vanessa like? Strike ambled after her, hoping this wasn’t going to take long but at the same time in no hurry to have the day over and be saying goodnight to her.
“How is Vanessa?” he asked, mostly to make conversation.
“Yeah, good.” Robin picked up a woven bracelet in primary colours, turned it over in her fingers and put it down again, then wandered towards a stall selling novelty mugs. “Still single since she split up with that last guy, but she’s got her eye on someone at work.” She couldn’t see any mugs that looked like Vanessa’s kind of thing, and moved on. She wanted something quirky and fun.
“Does he know she’s got her eye on him?” Strike asked. Privately he thought that the man in question couldn’t fail to know. Vanessa wasn’t exactly backward in coming forward. He vaguely wondered what it would be like to date the fiery policewoman. She wasn’t his type - he’d never fancied little women - but he imagined she wouldn’t be boring to spend time with.
“She thinks so, but he’s not making a move.”
Strike huffed a little. “Why does he have to make the move?”
“He doesn’t really, but she said she’s tired of taking the initiative. She wants a guy who’s got the balls to ask her, she said.” Robin chuckled fondly, remembering the conversation. Vanessa had been quite adamant. And pretty sure that she’d been clear about her interest.
“Perhaps he’s waiting for the right moment.”
Robin paused, wondering which way to head next. They’d stopped by a stall selling gemstone jewellery. A tiger’s eye necklace caught her attention, and a jade bangle. She moved along a little to look at the earrings, then glanced around to see what other stalls she could see.
“I can’t think why he’d need to wait,” she remarked absently. “I mean, how hard can it be? They’re working a case together at the moment. He’s only got to wait till they have a free spell, the end of the day, and say, ‘D’you fancy going for a drink after this?’ It’s quite simple.”
Strike picked up a bracelet set with little stones the colour of Robin’s eyes, and wondered what they were called. It’s quite simple.
“D’you fancy going for a drink after this?” he asked.
There was a silence. Had he spoken that out loud? It had been a moment of madness. He was frozen, the stones of the bracelet cold in his fingers, their colour icy suddenly. He couldn’t quite believe he’d actually said it.
Robin wasn’t saying anything. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Fuck, fuck, he’d screwed it all up. She was horrified. He’d overstepped the mark.
Think of something, take it back, fix it, you idiot.
He put the bracelet down, took a deep, shaky breath, and turned to her. “Robin—”
She wasn’t there.
Nonplussed, Strike looked around dumbly. She’d vanished. No, she hadn’t. She was over there, looking at bags and purses. She turned to him, a big grin on her face, a navy blue purse with a red fox on it in her hand.
“Found it!” She waved it at him triumphantly. Feeling a little weak at the knees, Strike walked over to her.
“I remember Vanessa telling me how much she liked to see the foxes when she was out at night or on stakeouts. Her gran loved them, apparently. This is perfect.” She was hunting in her bag now for her own purse to pay.
Strike stood back, taking a few steadying breaths while Robin completed her transaction. Bullet dodged. He was going to have to keep a much more careful check on his mouth in future if he was going to start blurting things out like that.
Robin thanked the stallholder, tucked the little paper bag containing the purse into her handbag, and smiled happily. “Mission accomplished,” she said. “Sorry, did you say something before? I wandered off mid-conversation, sorry.”
Strike shook his head. “Nothing important.”
Robin regarded him with her head tilted for a moment, then nodded. They made their way out of the market and strolled on to the Tube station.