for @i-am-hamishwatsonholmes who should be on the way to a certain bfs office for dinner
She knew he would be at the office, he always was. Work came first, clearly.
It had been the wedge that drove them apart after all. He had chosen where his loyalties really lay. And despite the fact she was bitter he had taken everything, she needed to see him. Some piece of her needed to know this was still the right plan. Of course they could take the paintings, maybe not frame him. He didn’t deserve a chance to explain himself at all, Alex just needed to be sure.
She moved her head at the sound of the door opening, putting out her cigarette beneath her boot and letting a cloud of smoke loose from her lips. Hopefully he would be able to spot her a mile off, he should. She was wearing the same outfit that they had dragged her into the back seat of a police car in, her hair the same for now. Her smile the same way she had looked at him, kissing him softly before he left for work. The last moments living a lie.
Fuck his phone call, fuck his apologies. Fuck Hamish Watson-Holmes.
Alex smirked, nodding at him with her arms folded tight.
“ Did you miss me?”
















