Fic (Spooks), Fragile lives, NC-17, Ros/Lucas, written for spooky_doings Yuletide
Title: Fragile lives
Fandom: Spooks
Word Count: 3143
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Lucas/Ros
Spoilers: Set after 7x06
Summary: Just how close to the edge do they walk?
Disclaimer: Don't own Spooks, just playing in the sandpit. No money being made etc etc.
Author's Note: Written for the spooky_doings Yuletide exchange for pseudicide, who wanted An operation gone wrong, the aftermath, friendship, flashbacks. Hope this works for you, and pretend it was posted on time! Many many thanks to verdant_gt for the beta, and to fenna_girl who had to put up with me wrestling with this via IM.
“How is she?” Harry asked, walking over to where Malcolm was stationed, Lucas stood beside him. Malcolm was watching the screens carefully.
“She’s fine. Obviously fed up at having to babysit a journalist, given the amount of comments she’s making to him,” Lucas said, glancing at Harry. “She was the best for the job, though, though of course I’d rather that never got back to her.”
“Bring in doughnuts, and I’ll make sure she never finds out,” Malcolm commented.
“Ah, that’s why you wanted me back from Russia. No other reason than I bring in doughnuts,” Lucas teased.
“When you two are quite finished... is everything in place?” Harry asked.
“Yeah. The exchange will go ahead at two. We’ll make sure SO19 are in place. Ben’s liaising with them now.”
“Good,” Harry replied. “I want this to go as smoothly as possible, and get Ros back on the Grid. No offence, gentlemen, but the less conversation about doughnuts, the better.”
“It’ll be fine, Harry. She knows what she’s doing,” Lucas said, with a tiny smile for his mentor.
“I know. It’s the rest of them I worry about,” Harry said, heading back into his office.
Lucas surveyed the scene from the van. Jo, Ben and two other officers were in place. He hated having to use a civilian as a trap, especially a journalist like McCord. Too much could go wrong, and they’d be dragged through the tabloids if it did. He knew Ros felt the same way, but they were both realists. McCord had made the connection, and when all was said and done, it was the best chance of pulling Leinov into the open. The Russian mafia working in London was something they wanted to stamp down on sooner rather than later.
“Heads up,” he said, seeing a car with a familiar figure driving it. He’d recognise Ros anywhere. “Alpha One and Woodward are arriving. Call eyes as soon as you have them.” One by one the officers on the ground confirmed that yes, they could see the pair of them.
It was this part of operations that Lucas hated. Most of the time he had enough patience to put saints to shame, but this operation had him on edge. He supposed it was the fact that they were dealing with a Russian mafia family. He had to stay out of the way, or run the risk of Leinov recognising him from Moscow the way Asa Dahlek had. It was a risk too far, it had been decided. Intellectually Lucas agreed, but it didn’t make things easier for him to accept.
A sleek black Jaguar approached the park. “Target approaching,” he said. “Malcolm, did the bugs in the bins work?”
“I’m just about to patch you through. We’ve managed to get one close enough to where Ros intends the meet to happen.” Lucas smiled slightly. Who said men couldn’t multi-task? Several CCTV to watch, officers talking to him, sorting things out with Malcolm, listening to the conversation that Ros and the journalist were having... all in a day’s work.
“SO19 in place?” he asked.
“Confirm,” was the simple response.
“Hold back for now. Don’t want to spook them off too early,” Lucas warned. “Malcolm?”
“All set.” Lucas could imagine Malcolm on the Grid, Harry standing behind him. Now it was just down to Ros. Lucas watched the screens as Ros and McCord approached the Russians. Leinov’s two bodyguards kept their distance, but it was obvious that they were armed and ready to react.
“Eyes,” both Jo and Ben said, moving slightly closer. They were just a couple on a day out in the park.
“Don’t get too close,” Lucas warned. “Don’t scare them.”
“We’re fine,” Ben said quietly. “Trust us.”
Lucas bit down a retort. Ben was right. The two of them were solid officers, perfectly capable of doing their jobs, and well. He smiled to himself at being overprotective, then turned his attention back to the screens. “Malcolm. I should be hearing something by now, shouldn’t I?” he asked, frowning slightly.
“The feed isn’t working,” Malcolm said. Lucas could hear a hint of worry in his voice... or frustration. It was never easy to tell with Malcolm.
“Are they jamming us, or just got lucky?” Lucas demanded.
There was a pause. Lucas could imagine Malcolm working. “Most likely the bug failed and they have been lucky, though it could be jamming. It’s impossible to tell without testing it.”
“Jo. Ben. Keep close on eye on them,” Lucas snapped out. “We’re completely blind in here.”
Lucas saw the gun being raised and opened the van door, hitting the ground running. “Go, go, go!” he yelled, running towards the small group. Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of Ben and Jo moving in, guns raised and pointed at the bodyguards. Ros had placed herself between them and McCord, Lucas noticed. “Drop the weapons,” he heard Ben saying, holding his ground.
McCord was twitchy. This wasn’t good. Suddenly, everything was a mess of people shouting, jostling each other, and Lucas was too far away to do anything. McCord was trying to run away, one of the bodyguards holding onto him.
A single shot rang out, and Lucas watched as Ben cried out in pain, clutching at his shoulder.
Lucas drove silently, the roads in London relatively quiet. Ros sat in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window. “You didn’t have to do this,” she said eventually.
“I didn’t think you’d want to go back to the Grid, or to hospital looking like that,” Lucas said, not looking at her. “Scare the natives. They don’t like seeing blood.”
“Are you saying that I might look less than my stellar best?” Ros asked, amused despite her tiredness. “Be careful how you answer. A woman might get offended by that.”
Lucas glanced over, smirking ever so slightly. “Would I dare say that?” he asked. “I was more concerned with your comfort.”
Ros gave a low laugh, then went silent for a few minutes. “Ben...”
“Jo said she’d ring as soon as she knew anything,” Lucas replied. “He wasn’t badly hurt. He’ll be back in no time.”
It didn’t take Lucas long to finish the drive to Ros’ flat. “Want me to stay in the car?” he asked, looking over at her after he’d parked and turned off the engine.
“No, it’s fine,” Ros replied. Lucas raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Much as he did, Ros kept herself very much to herself, avoiding the mix of work and what little homelife they had. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think I wasn’t a generous host.”
Lucas gave a small smile before the pair of them got out of the car, slowly walking towards her flat. As he entered, he was struck by how much of a reflection of her it was - no frills, no fuss, yet the furnishings were obviously not from Ikea. There was hardly any signs of personal taste - only a couple of pictures, unlike his taste in Blake paintings that was obvious in his own abode. A few novels, some in Arabic - matching his taste in occasional Russian novels. No ornaments, no sign of photos - much like Lucas, merely a place to sleep.
Ros was watching him carefully, knowing that she would have done the same. “Kitchen is over there, make a coffee while I go clean up?” she asked.
Lucas nodded. “I’ll ring Jo as well,” he said, turning away from her, to head to the kitchen. It didn’t take him long to work out where everything was, and he soon had coffee made, sitting on the counter waiting for Ros to reappear.
It was odd how their friendship went at times. Both had been through traumatic times lately - Ros with Meynall, Lucas with the whole Dean Mitchell experience. And yet, they were both survivors. He knew Jo and Ben couldn’t figure her out at all, but it made sense to him. They were too alike, both brittle people in a dangerous job.
Lucas frowned as he glanced at the clock. Ros had been there for over twenty minutes. He knew enough about her to guess that that was unusual for her, especially with someone else in her flat. He didn’t disturb her though, figuring she needed the space. She came out ten minutes later, looking very much as normal. However, Lucas recognised a certain tightness in her face. Controlling carefully.
“Back to the Grid?” Lucas said, determined not to make a fuss.
“After coffee. Priorities, Lucas.”
4am, and Lucas couldn’t sleep. Nothing new, so he decided to do something useful and go into the Grid. There was a pile of reports for him to work through, he could get a head start, ready for the next day, just in case.
There was a coffee shop around the corner from Thames House that sensibly opened twenty-four hours a day. He parked, and headed there, picking up a simple black coffee, and on a whim a second. It proved to be a wise move when he entered the Grid and saw the familiar blonde hair of Ros already at her desk. He smiled slightly as he put it in front of her. “I thought I was the only one who had trouble sleeping,” he said.
“I visited Ben late, couldn’t sleep,” Ros said. “The upcoming state visit needs a lot of preparation.”
“Please don’t dump me with hotel duty again,” Lucas said, suddenly grinning at Ros. “I’ve had enough of that lately.”
“Well, at least you managed to get away from Denizet. That worked out well,” Ros said flippantly.
Lucas froze. His guarding of Dean Mitchell had been going so well, right up to the last minute. His mother had accepted the need to go to Spain, to build a new life, why hadn’t Dean? Instead, Lucas hadn’t been able to run quick enough to stop Sands from killing him. He abruptly turned away from Ros, heading back to his station.
Ros swore under her breath. “You got through to him, it was obvious from the way he talked to you, the way he watched you. He just didn’t want to believe you that Spain was the only option,” she said, catching him by the arm, making him stop.
“We’ll never know,” Lucas said in a rough voice. “I could have done him, persuaded him it was for the best.”
“Not quickly enough. We’ve been through so much this year...” Lucas frowned slightly. This was the most open he’d ever seen Ros.
Looking back, neither of them could have said who made the first move. All Lucas knew was that one moment they were watching each other carefully, the next they were kissing each other, coffee and argument forgotten as he found himself pushed back against the wall, Ros tugging urgently at his shirt.
He came to his senses enough to realise that the corridor was perhaps not the best place for this. If they weren’t sleeping, the odds were high that others weren’t either, and they could be interrupted at any moment. He broke away from her long enough to grab her arm, and start pulling her towards the meeting room.
Ros made an annoyed noise against his lips, but she complied, following him. She slammed the door shut with her foot, continuing to unbutton his shirt. Lucas turned around, picking her up and sat her on the table, hitching her skirt up, running a hand up her leg. She made another tiny sound, this time of triumph as she undid the last shirt button, pushing the fabric down, running her hands over his tattoos before reaching for his belt, unfastening it and pushing fabric down far enough to free him.
Lucas gave a low growl as she stroked him. How long had it been since someone had touched him? She had far too many clothes on. Her skirt was moved up around her hips, her blouse - an expensive one, he noticed - was tugged off, and she raised her hips as soon as he removed her panties. He wasn’t moving fast enough for her.
Ros had had the presence of mind to reach into Lucas’ back pocket and pull out his wallet before she had pushed his jeans down. Clichéd as it was to keep a condom there, it was something Lucas had done automatically since his return from Russia. He grabbed the wallet from her, pulling out the foil wrapper, deftly opening it and slipping the condom on.
He paused for a moment, breaking the kiss he’d been pulled into in order to look at her. This was a situation he never thought he’d find himself in, and he wanted to be sure, wanted both of them to be sure. He got the confirmation he needed when she suddenly pulled him closer, his cock brushing against her entrance.
“Do it, Lucas,” she demanded. Lucas bit down an inappropriate laugh - so like her to try and run things, however, he was determined she wasn’t going to get things all her own way. He pushed into her, slowly, deliberately holding back, teasing. “Bastard,” she said in a low voice, before pulling him down for another kiss.
All too soon it was over, Ros climaxing first, with Lucas following seconds behind her. For a moment or two, both of them just stayed where they were, breathing heavily, staring at each other. Ros moved first, reaching out to find her blouse first of all, tugging it on, covering herself up. Moment over, Lucas coughed slightly before pulling out of her gently, very aware that the nature of their friendship had changed. Neither spoke as they dressed, nor did Ros look at him as she left the meeting room. Lucas closed his eyes once she’d left, wondering just what the hell had happened.
At the end of the day, Lucas went home relatively early. As expected, Ros had acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It was a tedious day of the Grid, with all of them focussed on their own work - the preparation for the state visit, recording conversations with assets, wading through anything interesting from GCHQ. It seemed odd to be going home at what most people would consider a reasonable time.
He wandered around the kitchen area of his flat, debating if he could actually be bothered to cook, order in, or just ignore food altogether, when there was a sudden knock on the door. Lucas glanced at the clock - 8pm. Far too late for anyone to be visiting him. He opened a drawer, pulling his gun out, which he held just behind his leg as he opened it.
Ros. Holding what appeared to be a takeaway.
He raised an eyebrow, not speaking as she entered his flat. “I figured you hadn’t actually got anything in to cook,” she said eventually, moving a book off of the small coffee table and sitting the food down there. “Given the amount of time you’ve been in the office lately.
Lucas shook his head slightly. Okay, if that’s how she wanted to play it... fine by him. Bemused, yes, but when he thought about it, somewhat typical Ros behaviour, pretending nothing had happened earlier. “Er, not much, no.” He didn’t eat at work as much as Malcolm did, but he certainly ate out a fair amount.
“Good,” she said, pulling out cartons of Chinese food. Lucas watched her for a moment, then went to the kitchen, finding plates, glasses and a bottle of red wine. He took them through, placing them on the table before sitting down.
Lucas had shared many meals with Ros over the last few months, but none so bizarre as this one. Ros didn’t appear to be overly bothered by things, but Lucas felt awkward. He wouldn’t have ever catagorised himself as a one night - or day - stand kind of person. You only had to look at his relationship with Elizabeta for that. In some ways he was very much his father’s son. His moral code had always been strong.
Their banter was very much as normal. Comments about colleagues, gentle in nature, nothing too gossipy. Thoughts about politicians, about life in general. Lucas was starting to think of the whole situation earlier as an aberration - something that occasionally happened between friends, nothing serious, never to be repeated.
Never mind how good it had felt at the time.
Not something he could afford to dwell on. Instead, he focussed on placing the whole thing in its proper place in his mind, allowing him to carry on with work, and with their relationship as colleagues as normal. It took him till the end of the meal till he managed it.
Just as suddenly as the meal began, it was over. Plates and glasses were meticulously cleaned and put away. Evening over.
“I can’t stop seeing his face,” Ros said suddenly. She had been putting the plates back in a cupboard, and was facing away from Lucas, but he could read her body language. She was hunched over slightly, her shoulders tight. When she turned to look at him her face was impassive. Lucas watched her for a moment, silently, before nodding.
“He’ll be okay,” he said, giving a small smile - the one designed to reassure, keep people calm. “Ben’s a fighter.”
Ros took in a deep breath. “Not Ben,” she said, eventually.
Lucas frowned. If not Ben, then... “Adam.” He’d seen her expression when he’d given the news that Adam had been killed. She’d tried so hard to keep control of her emotions in that moment, but it had slipped, just a little. Just enough for Lucas to put two and two together. “You and he were lovers.” Possibly more than that. He got the impression that Adam had managed to get through that tough exterior, to the real Ros underneath.
Ros looked directly at Lucas, refusing to back down. “Yes, we were. But he’s dead now.”
There was so much Lucas could say, or he could make sympathetic noises, but at the end of the day, this was him and Ros. They didn’t do sympathy, not with each other. It’s what helped them work well together. But it explained her reaction. Chances were high that he was the first person she’d slept with, other than Meynall - and let’s face it, the financier hardly counted - since Adam. “Fine,” he said eventually, carrying on his tidying up.
“Lucas...”
“Ros, it’s fine. Really.” He knows that half smile he gives is annoying, and even worse, he is aware that Ros knows it’s a defence mechanism, but it really was fine. Another sign he was moving on, attempting to put his life back together. The second smile he gives is more genuine. Realistically, they are both too fucked up to allow anything to work between them. “More wine?”
Fandom: Spooks
Word Count: 3143
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Lucas/Ros
Spoilers: Set after 7x06
Summary: Just how close to the edge do they walk?
Disclaimer: Don't own Spooks, just playing in the sandpit. No money being made etc etc.
Author's Note: Written for the spooky_doings Yuletide exchange for pseudicide, who wanted An operation gone wrong, the aftermath, friendship, flashbacks. Hope this works for you, and pretend it was posted on time! Many many thanks to verdant_gt for the beta, and to fenna_girl who had to put up with me wrestling with this via IM.
“How is she?” Harry asked, walking over to where Malcolm was stationed, Lucas stood beside him. Malcolm was watching the screens carefully.
“She’s fine. Obviously fed up at having to babysit a journalist, given the amount of comments she’s making to him,” Lucas said, glancing at Harry. “She was the best for the job, though, though of course I’d rather that never got back to her.”
“Bring in doughnuts, and I’ll make sure she never finds out,” Malcolm commented.
“Ah, that’s why you wanted me back from Russia. No other reason than I bring in doughnuts,” Lucas teased.
“When you two are quite finished... is everything in place?” Harry asked.
“Yeah. The exchange will go ahead at two. We’ll make sure SO19 are in place. Ben’s liaising with them now.”
“Good,” Harry replied. “I want this to go as smoothly as possible, and get Ros back on the Grid. No offence, gentlemen, but the less conversation about doughnuts, the better.”
“It’ll be fine, Harry. She knows what she’s doing,” Lucas said, with a tiny smile for his mentor.
“I know. It’s the rest of them I worry about,” Harry said, heading back into his office.
Lucas surveyed the scene from the van. Jo, Ben and two other officers were in place. He hated having to use a civilian as a trap, especially a journalist like McCord. Too much could go wrong, and they’d be dragged through the tabloids if it did. He knew Ros felt the same way, but they were both realists. McCord had made the connection, and when all was said and done, it was the best chance of pulling Leinov into the open. The Russian mafia working in London was something they wanted to stamp down on sooner rather than later.
“Heads up,” he said, seeing a car with a familiar figure driving it. He’d recognise Ros anywhere. “Alpha One and Woodward are arriving. Call eyes as soon as you have them.” One by one the officers on the ground confirmed that yes, they could see the pair of them.
It was this part of operations that Lucas hated. Most of the time he had enough patience to put saints to shame, but this operation had him on edge. He supposed it was the fact that they were dealing with a Russian mafia family. He had to stay out of the way, or run the risk of Leinov recognising him from Moscow the way Asa Dahlek had. It was a risk too far, it had been decided. Intellectually Lucas agreed, but it didn’t make things easier for him to accept.
A sleek black Jaguar approached the park. “Target approaching,” he said. “Malcolm, did the bugs in the bins work?”
“I’m just about to patch you through. We’ve managed to get one close enough to where Ros intends the meet to happen.” Lucas smiled slightly. Who said men couldn’t multi-task? Several CCTV to watch, officers talking to him, sorting things out with Malcolm, listening to the conversation that Ros and the journalist were having... all in a day’s work.
“SO19 in place?” he asked.
“Confirm,” was the simple response.
“Hold back for now. Don’t want to spook them off too early,” Lucas warned. “Malcolm?”
“All set.” Lucas could imagine Malcolm on the Grid, Harry standing behind him. Now it was just down to Ros. Lucas watched the screens as Ros and McCord approached the Russians. Leinov’s two bodyguards kept their distance, but it was obvious that they were armed and ready to react.
“Eyes,” both Jo and Ben said, moving slightly closer. They were just a couple on a day out in the park.
“Don’t get too close,” Lucas warned. “Don’t scare them.”
“We’re fine,” Ben said quietly. “Trust us.”
Lucas bit down a retort. Ben was right. The two of them were solid officers, perfectly capable of doing their jobs, and well. He smiled to himself at being overprotective, then turned his attention back to the screens. “Malcolm. I should be hearing something by now, shouldn’t I?” he asked, frowning slightly.
“The feed isn’t working,” Malcolm said. Lucas could hear a hint of worry in his voice... or frustration. It was never easy to tell with Malcolm.
“Are they jamming us, or just got lucky?” Lucas demanded.
There was a pause. Lucas could imagine Malcolm working. “Most likely the bug failed and they have been lucky, though it could be jamming. It’s impossible to tell without testing it.”
“Jo. Ben. Keep close on eye on them,” Lucas snapped out. “We’re completely blind in here.”
Lucas saw the gun being raised and opened the van door, hitting the ground running. “Go, go, go!” he yelled, running towards the small group. Out of the corner of his eye he was aware of Ben and Jo moving in, guns raised and pointed at the bodyguards. Ros had placed herself between them and McCord, Lucas noticed. “Drop the weapons,” he heard Ben saying, holding his ground.
McCord was twitchy. This wasn’t good. Suddenly, everything was a mess of people shouting, jostling each other, and Lucas was too far away to do anything. McCord was trying to run away, one of the bodyguards holding onto him.
A single shot rang out, and Lucas watched as Ben cried out in pain, clutching at his shoulder.
Lucas drove silently, the roads in London relatively quiet. Ros sat in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window. “You didn’t have to do this,” she said eventually.
“I didn’t think you’d want to go back to the Grid, or to hospital looking like that,” Lucas said, not looking at her. “Scare the natives. They don’t like seeing blood.”
“Are you saying that I might look less than my stellar best?” Ros asked, amused despite her tiredness. “Be careful how you answer. A woman might get offended by that.”
Lucas glanced over, smirking ever so slightly. “Would I dare say that?” he asked. “I was more concerned with your comfort.”
Ros gave a low laugh, then went silent for a few minutes. “Ben...”
“Jo said she’d ring as soon as she knew anything,” Lucas replied. “He wasn’t badly hurt. He’ll be back in no time.”
It didn’t take Lucas long to finish the drive to Ros’ flat. “Want me to stay in the car?” he asked, looking over at her after he’d parked and turned off the engine.
“No, it’s fine,” Ros replied. Lucas raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Much as he did, Ros kept herself very much to herself, avoiding the mix of work and what little homelife they had. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think I wasn’t a generous host.”
Lucas gave a small smile before the pair of them got out of the car, slowly walking towards her flat. As he entered, he was struck by how much of a reflection of her it was - no frills, no fuss, yet the furnishings were obviously not from Ikea. There was hardly any signs of personal taste - only a couple of pictures, unlike his taste in Blake paintings that was obvious in his own abode. A few novels, some in Arabic - matching his taste in occasional Russian novels. No ornaments, no sign of photos - much like Lucas, merely a place to sleep.
Ros was watching him carefully, knowing that she would have done the same. “Kitchen is over there, make a coffee while I go clean up?” she asked.
Lucas nodded. “I’ll ring Jo as well,” he said, turning away from her, to head to the kitchen. It didn’t take him long to work out where everything was, and he soon had coffee made, sitting on the counter waiting for Ros to reappear.
It was odd how their friendship went at times. Both had been through traumatic times lately - Ros with Meynall, Lucas with the whole Dean Mitchell experience. And yet, they were both survivors. He knew Jo and Ben couldn’t figure her out at all, but it made sense to him. They were too alike, both brittle people in a dangerous job.
Lucas frowned as he glanced at the clock. Ros had been there for over twenty minutes. He knew enough about her to guess that that was unusual for her, especially with someone else in her flat. He didn’t disturb her though, figuring she needed the space. She came out ten minutes later, looking very much as normal. However, Lucas recognised a certain tightness in her face. Controlling carefully.
“Back to the Grid?” Lucas said, determined not to make a fuss.
“After coffee. Priorities, Lucas.”
4am, and Lucas couldn’t sleep. Nothing new, so he decided to do something useful and go into the Grid. There was a pile of reports for him to work through, he could get a head start, ready for the next day, just in case.
There was a coffee shop around the corner from Thames House that sensibly opened twenty-four hours a day. He parked, and headed there, picking up a simple black coffee, and on a whim a second. It proved to be a wise move when he entered the Grid and saw the familiar blonde hair of Ros already at her desk. He smiled slightly as he put it in front of her. “I thought I was the only one who had trouble sleeping,” he said.
“I visited Ben late, couldn’t sleep,” Ros said. “The upcoming state visit needs a lot of preparation.”
“Please don’t dump me with hotel duty again,” Lucas said, suddenly grinning at Ros. “I’ve had enough of that lately.”
“Well, at least you managed to get away from Denizet. That worked out well,” Ros said flippantly.
Lucas froze. His guarding of Dean Mitchell had been going so well, right up to the last minute. His mother had accepted the need to go to Spain, to build a new life, why hadn’t Dean? Instead, Lucas hadn’t been able to run quick enough to stop Sands from killing him. He abruptly turned away from Ros, heading back to his station.
Ros swore under her breath. “You got through to him, it was obvious from the way he talked to you, the way he watched you. He just didn’t want to believe you that Spain was the only option,” she said, catching him by the arm, making him stop.
“We’ll never know,” Lucas said in a rough voice. “I could have done him, persuaded him it was for the best.”
“Not quickly enough. We’ve been through so much this year...” Lucas frowned slightly. This was the most open he’d ever seen Ros.
Looking back, neither of them could have said who made the first move. All Lucas knew was that one moment they were watching each other carefully, the next they were kissing each other, coffee and argument forgotten as he found himself pushed back against the wall, Ros tugging urgently at his shirt.
He came to his senses enough to realise that the corridor was perhaps not the best place for this. If they weren’t sleeping, the odds were high that others weren’t either, and they could be interrupted at any moment. He broke away from her long enough to grab her arm, and start pulling her towards the meeting room.
Ros made an annoyed noise against his lips, but she complied, following him. She slammed the door shut with her foot, continuing to unbutton his shirt. Lucas turned around, picking her up and sat her on the table, hitching her skirt up, running a hand up her leg. She made another tiny sound, this time of triumph as she undid the last shirt button, pushing the fabric down, running her hands over his tattoos before reaching for his belt, unfastening it and pushing fabric down far enough to free him.
Lucas gave a low growl as she stroked him. How long had it been since someone had touched him? She had far too many clothes on. Her skirt was moved up around her hips, her blouse - an expensive one, he noticed - was tugged off, and she raised her hips as soon as he removed her panties. He wasn’t moving fast enough for her.
Ros had had the presence of mind to reach into Lucas’ back pocket and pull out his wallet before she had pushed his jeans down. Clichéd as it was to keep a condom there, it was something Lucas had done automatically since his return from Russia. He grabbed the wallet from her, pulling out the foil wrapper, deftly opening it and slipping the condom on.
He paused for a moment, breaking the kiss he’d been pulled into in order to look at her. This was a situation he never thought he’d find himself in, and he wanted to be sure, wanted both of them to be sure. He got the confirmation he needed when she suddenly pulled him closer, his cock brushing against her entrance.
“Do it, Lucas,” she demanded. Lucas bit down an inappropriate laugh - so like her to try and run things, however, he was determined she wasn’t going to get things all her own way. He pushed into her, slowly, deliberately holding back, teasing. “Bastard,” she said in a low voice, before pulling him down for another kiss.
All too soon it was over, Ros climaxing first, with Lucas following seconds behind her. For a moment or two, both of them just stayed where they were, breathing heavily, staring at each other. Ros moved first, reaching out to find her blouse first of all, tugging it on, covering herself up. Moment over, Lucas coughed slightly before pulling out of her gently, very aware that the nature of their friendship had changed. Neither spoke as they dressed, nor did Ros look at him as she left the meeting room. Lucas closed his eyes once she’d left, wondering just what the hell had happened.
At the end of the day, Lucas went home relatively early. As expected, Ros had acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It was a tedious day of the Grid, with all of them focussed on their own work - the preparation for the state visit, recording conversations with assets, wading through anything interesting from GCHQ. It seemed odd to be going home at what most people would consider a reasonable time.
He wandered around the kitchen area of his flat, debating if he could actually be bothered to cook, order in, or just ignore food altogether, when there was a sudden knock on the door. Lucas glanced at the clock - 8pm. Far too late for anyone to be visiting him. He opened a drawer, pulling his gun out, which he held just behind his leg as he opened it.
Ros. Holding what appeared to be a takeaway.
He raised an eyebrow, not speaking as she entered his flat. “I figured you hadn’t actually got anything in to cook,” she said eventually, moving a book off of the small coffee table and sitting the food down there. “Given the amount of time you’ve been in the office lately.
Lucas shook his head slightly. Okay, if that’s how she wanted to play it... fine by him. Bemused, yes, but when he thought about it, somewhat typical Ros behaviour, pretending nothing had happened earlier. “Er, not much, no.” He didn’t eat at work as much as Malcolm did, but he certainly ate out a fair amount.
“Good,” she said, pulling out cartons of Chinese food. Lucas watched her for a moment, then went to the kitchen, finding plates, glasses and a bottle of red wine. He took them through, placing them on the table before sitting down.
Lucas had shared many meals with Ros over the last few months, but none so bizarre as this one. Ros didn’t appear to be overly bothered by things, but Lucas felt awkward. He wouldn’t have ever catagorised himself as a one night - or day - stand kind of person. You only had to look at his relationship with Elizabeta for that. In some ways he was very much his father’s son. His moral code had always been strong.
Their banter was very much as normal. Comments about colleagues, gentle in nature, nothing too gossipy. Thoughts about politicians, about life in general. Lucas was starting to think of the whole situation earlier as an aberration - something that occasionally happened between friends, nothing serious, never to be repeated.
Never mind how good it had felt at the time.
Not something he could afford to dwell on. Instead, he focussed on placing the whole thing in its proper place in his mind, allowing him to carry on with work, and with their relationship as colleagues as normal. It took him till the end of the meal till he managed it.
Just as suddenly as the meal began, it was over. Plates and glasses were meticulously cleaned and put away. Evening over.
“I can’t stop seeing his face,” Ros said suddenly. She had been putting the plates back in a cupboard, and was facing away from Lucas, but he could read her body language. She was hunched over slightly, her shoulders tight. When she turned to look at him her face was impassive. Lucas watched her for a moment, silently, before nodding.
“He’ll be okay,” he said, giving a small smile - the one designed to reassure, keep people calm. “Ben’s a fighter.”
Ros took in a deep breath. “Not Ben,” she said, eventually.
Lucas frowned. If not Ben, then... “Adam.” He’d seen her expression when he’d given the news that Adam had been killed. She’d tried so hard to keep control of her emotions in that moment, but it had slipped, just a little. Just enough for Lucas to put two and two together. “You and he were lovers.” Possibly more than that. He got the impression that Adam had managed to get through that tough exterior, to the real Ros underneath.
Ros looked directly at Lucas, refusing to back down. “Yes, we were. But he’s dead now.”
There was so much Lucas could say, or he could make sympathetic noises, but at the end of the day, this was him and Ros. They didn’t do sympathy, not with each other. It’s what helped them work well together. But it explained her reaction. Chances were high that he was the first person she’d slept with, other than Meynall - and let’s face it, the financier hardly counted - since Adam. “Fine,” he said eventually, carrying on his tidying up.
“Lucas...”
“Ros, it’s fine. Really.” He knows that half smile he gives is annoying, and even worse, he is aware that Ros knows it’s a defence mechanism, but it really was fine. Another sign he was moving on, attempting to put his life back together. The second smile he gives is more genuine. Realistically, they are both too fucked up to allow anything to work between them. “More wine?”