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Robin hoped her 32nd birthday would be low key, just dinner with friends and maybe a sweet present from her boyfriend.  It never dawned on her that her business partner would accidentally ruin things.

To be fair, it never occurred to him either.  

The evening before her birthday Robin worked late, trying to finish a report for a client as she planned to take the entire weekend off.  She was waiting for her report to print when the office door opened and her business partner appeared.  Strike looked as tired as she felt but he smiled when he saw her, his eyes lighting up.  Robin smiled back at him.

"How did the meeting go?" she asked. "Want a cup of tea?"

He said the meeting went well and the client had promised payment plus  a nice bonus check that would be mailed to them shortly.  "Tea would be great, thanks.  How was your day?"

"Busy," said Robin as she filled the kettle and got down the tea and two mugs.  "I'm just finishing up the report for Money Bags for our meeting Monday afternoon.  I'm off this weekend so I wanted to get that out of the way before I left."

"What do you have planned for your birthday?"

"Dinner with friends.  You are invited to that, remember?"

"I remember and I'll be there.  Wait a minute.  I've got a present for you.  Might as well give it to you now."  Strike headed into his office.  Robin could hear him rummaging around in his desk drawer as she poured hot water over the tea bags.

"Here you go," he told her, handing over a small navy box tied with a red bow.  "Go ahead and open it."

So Robin did.  Inside was a layer of cotton which she lifted up to see a narrow silver ring that had some lines engraved on the surface.  She lifted it out of the box and turned it over in her hands.  The decorative pattern read XXIX_III_MMX.   Robin frowned and looked up at Strike who was grinning at her, his tea mug in one big hand. 

"What does it say?" she asked. 

"Kids today," he said with mock seriousness.  "No education."  

The light dawned.  The marks were the Roman numerals for 29-3-2010.  That was the date she started working for Strike as a temp.  Robin laughed.  "That's so clever!"  She slid the ring on her left ring finger.  It was too big.

"It's sized for your right hand," Strike said, now gingerly sipping his hot tea.  

Robin switched the ring from her left hand to her right.  It fit her right ring finger perfectly.  "How did you get the size right?" she asked.

"Remember when you wore all that jewelry when you were pretending to be a featherbrained devotee of that yoga teacher scamming his students?"  Robin nodded.  "I paid attention to which ring was on your right hand ring finger.  When you took them off and dumped them in your desk drawer, I pinched it and had a jeweler tell me the right size."

"You've been planning this since last summer?" Robin asked, surprised.  

"Yep," said Strike, looking pleased with himself and his ability to keep a secret that long.  "It'll be seven years next March since you started working here and I wanted something to commemorate the date.  The idea occurred to me when I was dating Madeline, the jeweler.  You remember her?"

Robin nodded.  She did remember.  She'd been upset and jealous when Strike's ex-girlfriend Charlotte Campbell had maliciously revealed that Strike had been dating another woman without telling her.  "Did you have her design this?" she asked, keeping her voice level so he wouldn't realize she would throw it at him if the answer was yes.

"Lord no. My half sister Dani dabbles in jewelry making.  She recommended a jeweler called Audry Rose.  I visited the Audry Rose shop and told her I wanted something subtle, not flashy.  This is what she came up with but she makes what she calls ring stacks, where you wear two or three of them on the same finger, all different designs.  They look pretty nice.  Maybe I'll get you another next birthday?"

Robin grinned at him.  "Well, Christmas is coming soon, although I don't know how you can top this."

"If you are very good, I'll take you to her showroom and you can pick something else out."

"Strike, this is perfect, believe me."  And that's when she made the mistake of hugging her partner.  It was like coming home, being held by Cormoran Strike.  She wasn't sure how long they embraced--it might have been a minute or ten--but as they looked into each other's eyes Robin was thinking that Strike's flat was over their heads and wondering if she dared suggest they go upstairs to his bedroom.  The fact that she had a boyfriend didn't even cross her mind.

Too soon Strike let go of Robin and stepped back slightly, then he took her right hand in his, gently kissing the knuckles just above her new ring. It was a courtly gesture, and it seemed to break the spell.  Robin grabbed her mug of tea and asked Strike about his weekend plans.  All too soon she left him in their office and made her way to the subway station on the way to her flat.  The entire time she was aware of the new ring on her right hand, her mind full of fond thoughts of Cormoran Strike.

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Robin didn't remember any of her trip back to her flat from work.  She was too busy processing what she had felt.  She and Strike weren't physically demonstrative. He'd hugged her at her wedding, and given her a peck on the cheek once or twice and once on the lips by accident, but they almost never touched.  She remembered that night she'd gotten so drunk when she'd realized Matthew had cheated on her that Strike had put his hand on the small of her back to guide her down the street to the hotel where he'd put her up for the night to keep her safe.  It was one of the things she'd first noticed about him--there was no "accidental" touching, no talking to her breasts, no hint of the sexual harassment that she'd sometimes endured from other bosses when working in London as a temp.

But that hug after he'd given her such a thoughtful present as her anniversary ring had even put the hug at her wedding into the shade.  What did it mean that hugs from her boyfriend were meaningless compared to this?  Robin drew a hot bath, poured in some expensive bubblebath, and soaked while she pondered what she felt toward her business partner.  She'd been in love with him for a while, she knew that.  That's why she'd gone out with Ryan Murphy in the first place, to forget about a man who wasn't interested in a lasting relationship.   

She sighed and dipped down under the water, wetting her hair so she could add shampoo to it.  What was that song from the musical her mother liked?  "I'm going to wash that man out of my hair!"  But which man?  Strike?  No, she wanted Strike in her life no matter what.  Ryan was the one who was an afterthought.  

Robin scrubbed her hair and rinsed, enjoying the hot water, the bubbles, being clean.  Her time in the cult had taught her to enjoy simple things like a warm bed, a door she could lock, hot water and soap.  She'd not thought of Ryan while she was at the cult's headquarters unless he'd sent a note she had to answer.  For the first time, she wondered how Strike had liked having to act as a postmaster between herself and Ryan Murphy.  Like so many things, he'd done it without uncomplaining.  

"Back to Murphy," she told herself.  She wasn't in love with him.  She liked Ryan, she'd enjoyed being with him, but it wasn't fair to Ryan to keep seeing him when he was hinting that he wanted marriage and children.  She just didn't see a future for herself as Mrs. Ryan Murphy.  To be fair, she didn't see a future as Mrs. Cormoran Strike, either, but she was certain she wanted Strike in her life, no matter what.  If she had to choose, she'd pick Strike any day.  Not that she had to choose, exactly.  But she did have to face it; eventually Ryan would make her choose between the life he wanted and the one she did.  That would be no contest.  Why not break it off now? 

Wouldn't be fun, she told herself as she dried herself off and wrapped her wet hair in a towel.  But the longer she put it off, the worse it would be.  Giving Ryan hope that she was going to be his wife and the mother of his kids one day was cruel.  She thought about how to handle breaking up with Ryan as she dried her hair.  Finally, in clean pajamas with a glass of wine poured, she called Ryan.

"Want to meet up for breakfast tomorrow morning?"

Chapter Text

"Is it something I did?"  Ryan looked like a child who had discovered it wasn't Christmas morning after all.  This was going to be even harder than Robin had anticipated.  She tried again.

"No, Ryan.  It's nothing you did or didn't do.  I like you, Ryan. I like you a lot.  But it's not enough."

"You said you loved me," said Ryan, his voice raised a little.  The older woman at the next table in the coffee shop stared at them.

"I know.  I was exhausted from being undercover for four months and I wasn't used to drinking alcohol.  It just slipped out."

"You've led me on," said Ryan accusingly.

Robin raised one eyebrow.  "Led you on?  Ryan, I never said I wanted to get married and have children, despite all your hints."

"You don't want to marry me, you mean," said Ryan, pathetically.

"I don't want to marry anyone," Robin said patiently, trying to explain. "I don't want to get married, have children.  I like my life, my job.  Getting married would mean I'd be torn between family responsibilities and the job I love.  I know the job would suffer and that would damage any relationship with a husband and kids.  I'd resent them.  I know from being married to Matthew how bad it will get if I marry someone I don't love."

"It's Strike, isn't it?  He's poisoned you against me."

"Don't be silly.  Strike's never said one word about me dating you.  He knows my private life is none of his business."  

"I was going to ask you to move in with me."  Ryan was trying for her sympathy with puppy dog eyes.

"I would have said no, even if I hadn't realized that...."

"Realized what?" Ryan said, alert.

Robin paused, trying to come up with the words to explain.  "Ryan, when I was undercover for four months, it was hard.  I was constantly afraid of being found out, then afraid of the various torture techniques they used, of what the church principals were doing to other people.  They used all sorts of pressure to make us confirm.  When it got difficult, I never thought of you.  In fact, the only time I thought of you was when I had to write a reply to one of your notes.  That was always stressful.  I was afraid of getting caught so I had to explain why I wasn't leaving yet as quickly as possible.  Talking to you then was a chore.  That should have told me that our relationship wasn't one with a future."

Ryan almost pouted.  "I thought of you all the time."

"I'm sorry, Ryan.  You've been good to me and good for me, but I don't love you.  It's not fair for me to keep seeing you when we want something different from a relationship.  Right now I feel like I'm on the top of a hill in a car with no brakes because of you and Mum rushing me into something I don't want.  It's time for me to put a stop to your plans.  They aren't going to include me.  I don't want to marry you.  I'm already married to the job and that's enough for me."

Robin rose and walked out of the coffee shop.  Thankfully Ryan Murphy didn't follow her.

He hadn't noticed her new ring.

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Well, that was going to put a crimp in her birthday dinner.  Her friends were going to ask "Where's Ryan?"  She could just say he had to work, everyone there knew he could be called into work unexpectedly, but she didn't want to lie.  

She wandered aimlessly down the street, feeling guilty about breaking up with Ryan, who was a good person, feeling annoyed that she had to choose between a boyfriend and her job, feeling hungry.  She stopped at a little coffee shop and bought an apple Danish and another coffee, a decaf this time.  As she was sitting in the sunshine, feeling both down and relieved to have the talk with Ryan over, her phone buzzed.  It was her mother.  

"Oh joy," thought Robin as she answered the call.

"Happy birthday," her mother warbled, sounding happy and relaxed.  Robin sighed, apparently loudly enough her mother heard.  'What's wrong, dear?"

"I just broke up with Ryan."

"Oh, no!  What happened?"

"I don't love him, Mum.  It's not fair to keep stringing him on while he drops hints about marriage and kids."

Her mother said nothing for a second, then she spoke. "He seems to be a nice guy, Robin.  You like him, don't you?"

"Yes, he's kind and intelligent and I do like his company.  That's not enough reason to get married, though.  While I was undercover, I only thought of him when he sent me notes and I had to answer them.  That certainly should have told me something right then but I was too tired, hungry and stressed to pay attention."

"Are you sure he wants to get married?"

"Yes.  When we broke up this morning he said he was going to ask me to move in with him.  He had it all planned out:  we'd rent out my flat and use the money save up to buy a place of our own when we got engaged and then married next year."

"It sounds nice, dear."

"It isn't what I want."

"Then what do you want, Robin?" her mother asked impatiently.  A vision of her business partner rose in front of her.  She suppressed it.

"I want what I have now.  My independence, a job I love, and not having to answer to anyone about my long hours."

"How will you feel in ten or fifteen years, Robin, when you don't have anyone, when you are too old for kids?"

"I'll still know I made the right choice for me."

"Honey, I don't want you to grow old alone."

"I won't Mum.  I'll always have Strike.  He's my best friend."

The conversation ended after her mother dropped the subject of Ryan Murphy and told her a bit about Martin's new girlfriend and how Stephen's little girl was growing up so fast and what the sheep were doing.  Robin put down the phone, feeling sad and relieved.  She went home, made herself a cup of tea and sat on the couch drinking it, wishing she didn't have to go to her birthday dinner.  Finally, she gathered up her courage and called Ilsa who had arranged everything, told her what had happened and asked if the dinner could be cancelled.

Ilsa was a tower of strength, telling Robin of course the dinner could be postponed for another time.  She'd call everyone and put them off, telling them a breakup wasn't a good time for a dinner.  Robin felt soothed by her friend and after a few tears, hung up.  

She finished her tea, then decided to take a nap.  She kicked off her shoes, pulled back the covers and lay down on the bed, wishing she could sleep through the embarrassment and guilt she felt at having dumped Ryan Murphy.  She fell asleep stroking her new ring with her thumb.

Chapter Text

After what seemed like five minutes (but was actually four hours later) Robin woke to someone knocking at her front door.  Half awake she stumbled to the door and looked through the peephole, hoping it wasn't Ryan. 

It wasn't.

It was Cormoran Strike, holding shopping bags and looking impatient.  "Come on, Ellacott," he said in his deep baritone.  "Open up."

She unbolted the door and opened it.  He walked in past her, dumping three bags on her kitchen table.  She closed and locked the door, then stared at him as he unpacked five DVDs, three small pints of expensive ice cream, a bakery box, a bottle of pricey white wine, a six pack of beer, and a takeout box from her favorite pizza restaurant.  

"Put the ice cream in the freezer and chill the wine," he ordered. "Then hand me plates and silverware for the pizza before it gets cold."

Robin padded around the flat, following orders.  While she put things away and got out dishes, he stacked the DVD cases on her coffee table, and cut the string around the bakery box which he didn't open.  When they were settled on her couch with pizza, she said, "What are you doing here, Strike?"

"Ilsa sent me.  She called to say that you broke up with Murphy and I was to collect takeout, alcohol, your favorite ice cream, something chocolate plus a selection of movies and head to your flat to keep you from moping."

Robin rolled her eyes.  "Ilsa is a pest," she remarked, not wanted to admit how much she was glad to see her business partner.

"That she is. She provided the movies.  I can't say I like her taste but Nick says he'll gift me a six pack of Doom Bar if I manage to lose these."  He gestured at the stack of CDs.  Robin picked up the top one.  "Magic Mike XXL," she read.  "Male strippers," she explained to Strike who rolled his eyes.  

The next movie was "How to Be Single."  "It's a girl buddy movie, a comedy," she explained to Strike.  "Legally Blonde" was next.  "Not a bad movie," Robin told Strike.  "It's about a California sorority girl who follows her ex-boyfriend to law school on the East Coast after he dumps her."

Strike snorted.  "Do women have no pride?" he scoffed.  "Now that's a classic," he said, gesturing toward "Some Like It Hot."  Robin picked up the DVD case and read the blurbs.  It appeared to be a movie from the 1950s starring Marilyn Monroe.  

"I've not seen it," she admitted.

"It's about two musicians who witness a mob shooting and flee in disguise. They end up joining an all girls band on tour.  It is hilarious.  I've not seen 'Mr. Right.'" 

"Me, either," said Robin, studying the blurb on the next DVD.  "Apparently it's about girl who falls for a hit man."

"Romantic," said Strike, ironically.  "I want more pizza.  Are you ready for beer or wine?"

Robin requested wine and another slice.  Strike brought the pizza box to the table, tossed the DVD cases on the couch next to Robin, and then went back for a glass of wine for her and a bottle of beer for himself.  When he returned she was looking through the DVDs, reading the blurbs.

"What are we watching?" he asked.

"How about 'Some Like It Hot'?"

"Good choice."  So they settled sipped their drinks, ate more pizza, and watched Tony Curtis, Jack Lemmon and Marilyn Monroe.  When the pizza ran out, they paused the movie to choose ice cream to go with the bakery brownies Strike had purchased.  "Salted caramel, double vanilla cream or chocolate chip?"  Strike asked.  Robin wanted vanilla ice cream with her brownie and Strike settled for the same.

They enjoyed dessert and the movie.  Even though it first came out in 1959, it didn't seem dated.  Finally the credits rolled and Robin decided to clean up the dishes.

"Want another beer?"  she asked her guest, who said no.  Robin quickly washed everything while Strike dried.  Once it all was put away, she said, "I want to ask you something."  She hesitated.  "Want coffee?"

"Sure, but I don't think that's really what you want to ask," said Strike.

"No, it isn't, but it'll take a little while so let me make us some decaf first."  She busied herself making the coffee while Strike leaned against the kitchen counter, watching her.  Finally, the coffee was made.  She handed Strike a mug and took her own back to the couch where she sat down.  He sat next to her with his own mug.

"Remember when you told me Charlotte said you were in love with me?"  Strike nodded, sipping his coffee.

"Did you mean it?"

"Yes.  Charlotte was right.  I've been in love with you for a long time.  I'll probably be in love with you forever."

"Do you know why I went out with Murphy?" Robin asked.  Strike shook his head no.

"Because I was in love with you but I didn't think you wanted a permanent relationship.  That's why I bailed on a kiss at my birthday at the Ritz.  I thought you'd regret it in the morning and I just couldn't go through that.  I'm an all or nothing girl."

Strike looked at her.  "Still in love with me?"

Robin nodded.  

"Is that why you broke up with Murphy?" he asked after a sip of his hot coffee.

"Sort of.  He was pushing to move in together, then get engaged, get married and then have kids.  I didn't want to marry him.  I don't want to marry anyone, actually.  I told him I was married to the job and I mean that."

"I guess I'm married to the job, too," said Strike.  "Although if I was to marry anyone, it would be you."

Robin smiled at him.  "I suppose I feel the same way."  She looked down at the ring on her right hand.  "This means I'm married to the job, at least that's how I look at it."

"Sure.  You know, I could get a matching ring."

Robin gave him a dazzling smile.  "So we would both be married to the job?"

Strike nodded.  

"I'd like that," Robin admitted.  She took a sip of her coffee, set the mug down on the coffee table, said, "Too hot," and kissed her business partner.

He reciprocated.  

Ten days later Strike was wearing a matching ring on his right hand that Robin purchased from Audry Rose for him.  

A year later they had their rings resized for their left hands.