The Outsiders Getting In

Thaddeus smiled as he lead the appointment out. He flirted and cooed, admiring the girl's new ink, and slipped her a care sheet (for once, without his phone number scribbled on it). He gave Finch time to break down and renew her set. Tonight was walk-in night. Some times it was busy, sometimes completely dead. People were still getting the word out, learning there was a tattoo shop here.

He flipped his hair, wrapping up the receipts for the evening.

He was nervous - stupidly nervous. Mostly because he didn't want to have to sleep in the shop again, but it was looking more likely. Most of his things were in one of the back rooms.

"Tea break?" Thad said, poking his head into the backroom.

Finch glanced up at him from her desk, eyebrows raised. "Okay. That sounds alright."

Thad headed back to the kitchenette, setting the kettle and two cups. He fiddled with them until the kettle was hot. He checked himself in the mirror - one thing about tattoo shops - mirrors everywhere. The cut on his face was scabbed up enough to not need a plaster anymore. He scowled, not liking it marring his face. Reminded him too much of Scarface. Stupid, stupid boyfriend.

He carried the two mugs in to Finch, offering her one.

"Good job on that last one," he said, blowing his hot drink.

"Thanks," Finch said, the worry wrinkle appearing on her forehead. "You're being sweet. Too sweet. What do you want?"

"My keys back for starters," Thad said. "But if you're feeling generous, I much prefer sleeping on a bed instead of the shop sofa. Even if I do have to listen to you and the boyfriend shag it out."

"I don't think that's a good idea. Besides, I started payin' you. Why can't you find a flat of your own?" Finch asked, tapping her pencil on the desk.

"Why can't I let out the space I was using before?" Thaddeus returned. "I don't need much. Just something with a heater, and a bed, and a place I know my meager crap isn't going to get nicked. Besides, if you just had an actual door on that place, you'd never know I existed outside the shop."

Finch huffed and sipped at her tea. "I don't want a flatmate. That's my house, and I need the space. For reasons."

Thaddeus laughed. "For what? Shagging? You've got two bedrooms and your studio is here. I think you mean boyfriend is jealous. Does he know I'm working in your shop?"

"It didn't come up when we were discussing things," Finch replied with a deep blush spreading over her pert nose. "But that doesn't matter. I can hire whatever person I like. And you won't go the fuck away anyhow."

"Oh please, the ladies love me," Thaddeus purred, setting down his half empty mug. "I rather like it here, too. I think I need a raise."

"No! You just got one. And you're in a probationary period," Finch grumped back, turning away from him and back to the laptop she'd been working on. "You might get fired."

Thad ran a nail up her spine. "Only because you're worried you're too attracted by my wild manliness," he chuckled.

"I did not give you permission to touch me!" Finch said, swatting at him. "And I'm certainly not attracted to your 'manliness'. Besides, aren't I the wrong gender for you? I was pretty sure you were lookin' for a nice bloke to settle down with."

"Where'd you get that idea?" Thad asked, dancing away from her and back. "I told you I wasn't interested in your rooster of a cousin."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure that's one of those things where you say you don't like him and then you shag him senseless. I mean, who wouldn't shag Brandon? He's gorgeous," Finch said, concentrating on the screen in front of her.

"Alcoholic, and a mean drunk," Thaddeus sniffed. "First person I've punched in five years, too. He got me slapped with two ASBOs and a week in lock up. No thanks." He walked two fingers across Finch's shoulder, pulling her hair back from over her collar. "From what I saw, he's got his hands full, hmm?"

Finch sighed, not even paying attention to the fact that he was touching her again. "He's got Spencer. And Spencer is a handful. And there is the HIV thing."

"Oh?" Thaddeus said quietly. "And I thought that tiny ball of rage was his only problem. There are some blokes worth shagging, but there are too many red flags with that one. Besides, blokes are just for shagging. Birds, birds are for lovin'. Hasn't there ever just been someone you wanted to snog and grope and send on their way? Nothing wrong with some good old fashioned attraction." He was purring in her ear now.

"Ew, your breath is wet," Finch said, cringing with her head tilted to her shoulder. "No. I've never, um. Wanted someone like that. Y'know, before him."

Thaddeus perched on the chair next to her, leaning on the desk. "Really?" he said, genuinely intrigued. "Never saw a girl and thought - 'oi, what luscious lips'? Never saw a bloke and thought 'damn!'?"

Finch frowned, sliding her chair away from him. "No, not really. I mean, I never had time for that. I've got school and then um, reading. I read a lot... before this."

Thaddeus slid his hand over her thigh.

"Never read a passage that had your heart racing?" he said. "Two characters so tied up in each other and you're on the edge of your seat just waiting for the tension to break."

"I said, get your hands off of me," Finch told him, eyes hard, Her fingers wrapped around his, pausing his actions. "I don't like it. I don't like you."

Thad obeyed, but his brows were raised. "We both know that isn't true."

"No, feeling guilty that Vance threw you out even though you pushed your way in in the first place is not the same as liking. I don't know you, I don't know why you're hanging around. For all I know, you're trying to hurt me or my family," Finch replied, sucking on the inside of her cheek.

Thad looked away.

"I'm trying to make peace with your family, so I might forgive my own," he said, leaning backwards on the counter with his elbows back. His long hair draped across the surface. "Maybe I like the protection. Maybe I like you. Abby is probably the closest thing I have to family left. I was with her sister, you know. Before. Years ago, we all tried to go straight. Lizzy never could do it."

"Yeah, I think you mentioned it before," Finch mumbled. "I'm sorry, by the way. About um, her death."

"Her own fault. Karma. Never should've used info Abby gave her to hurt you," Thad said, lazing back. "I did bad things, learning how to take Granmum's place. Your parents don't seem the type, but you were taught anyway. Why?"

"Because I have the word 'target' plastered on my brow," Finch said sarcastically. "And even with the amount of parents we have, there was always a risk that we'd be unprotected, even for a moment, and then taken. Or murdered. So we were taught. Sherlock seemed to think I was going to take my mum's place, but then it didn't happen. Which is fine! I am totally fine with that."

"You aren't fine with the boyfriend taking your place," Thad said, swirling around in his seat. "Which came first?" He leaned forward to look over her shoulder.

"I- I guess the boyfriend. And when Mum discovered I had one, but I mean, I mean, we weren't! We were just friends, but she took him and then, I dunno. Things just happened from there." Finch sipped her cold tea, both hands on the mug. "But I like where things led to."

"Apparently, from the sounds you were making," Thaddeus snickered.

"Oh, grow up," Finch said, rolling her eyes. "When's tomorrow's appointment due in?"

"Twelve, but you know he won't be in until one at the earliest. Why, thinking of closing up early tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's been sort of slow tonight. And you're irritating me." She examined the split ends on a lock of hair. "We could use the night off."

Thaddeus gave a deep sigh. "Sure," he said. "I'll go turn off the sign and lock up."

"Look, it's just not a good idea. I do actually have plans for that space, and I did, y'know. Before-" Finch hissed as a sudden tightness ricocheted through her chest. "Hmm, that one hurt." Her hand had barely touched her body before another spasm went through her.

Thaddeus turned quickly, one hand on her back and the other on her chest. "All right?" he said, worry tinging his words.

"I- I don't-" her words were choked off in a wheeze, her chest feeling like it were weighed down by an elephant. Finch's fingertips felt numb. "Know."

Thaddeus held her, rubbing her back. "Breathe," he murmured. "Lips are turning white."

"Trying," Finch gasped, the numbness creeping up her legs. "M-Mum had this sometimes. No," gasp, "big", wheeze, "deal." And then her head lolled back, eyes rolling until the lids drooped shut.

"Shit," Thad said, holding her up. "You know he's gonna blame this on me," he said to the unconscious girl. He scooped her up, moving to lay her on the sofa while he went for a warm flannel. Seb had given him a few pointers over text - don't call an ambulance immediately unless her breathing didn't return to normal ...immediately. Don't make a fuss over it, it'll only embarrass her. And finally, keep your head. She needs someone with a brain when she can't use her own.

Thad pressed the warm wet cloth to Finch's face, checking for her breathing. Soft puffs of air hit the back of his hand. He checked her pulse. There, if a bit irregular.

"Vance," Finch mumbled, her eyes still closed.

"Try again, love," Thad said, continuing to pat her down. He pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa over her legs. "Getting yourself so worked up over little old me. It isn't that bigga, love."

Her eyes blinked open, clearly confused, but after a moment they cleared. She was still wheezing with each breath, but only a little. "I'm not your love. Don't say that."

"Shh, shh," Thad tsked. "Fightin' isn't getting us anywhere. Stop that. I'll stay here, like a pup in the doghouse, but don't go worrying your heart about old Thad."

"I don't feel nice," Finch said after a long moment of silence. "Head hurts."

Thaddeus lifting her up, laying her head on his lap and stroking over her forehead and into her crown of curls. "Lack of air to the brain," he tutted. "Your papa said something like this might happen. It's why he gave me the key. To look after you."

"Papa's mean. I don't need a babysitter," she sulked, but she was biting her lip with shy regret the moment she spoke. "Thanks, though."

"Hmm," Thad responded, moving his fingers up and through her hair. "Could've hit your head. Would've hurt a lot worse." He scrunched his fingers across her scalp. "Poor love."

"Maybe you should become a shampoo boy. You're good at rubbing scalps," Finch told him in a rare moment of praise. Her head was throbbing. "Definitely want to go home early now. I'm sleepy."

"Or you could just stay here a moment," Thad murmured. "I like it when you aren't yelling at me."

"I like it when you're not being obnoxious," Finch countered, her eyes sliding closed in a nice way. "It's diff'rent."

He smiled.

"You like it when I get under your skin," he said. "Ruffle your feathers. No one else is here to do it for me. Everyone else treats you with kid gloves. You won't know what happiness is without sadness, what love is without hate. What peace is without annoyance," he tugged a lock of hair right by her ear before going back to massaging back across her head, down her scalp and neck.

"Abby and Spencer ruffle feathers plenty," Finch complained. "I know what happiness is. And love. I love him."

"Him who?" Thad asked softly. He noticed she never called him by name. "Spencer?"

"No, m'brother." Her words were a lazy mumble. "Vance. I love Vance. Beautiful."

Thad scowled. "I hope you have many fat babies together," he said sourly, but he didn't stop his stroking.

"Exactly why I need room," Finch said before dropping off asleep, not even aware she'd muttered the words at all.

Thad's hands eventually slowed. He looked down at the girl sleeping. He couldn't reach either of their phones. It didn't matter.. to him. Did it? Filling the space he'd occupied for less than a month with tiny children - gold-red hair, tall and lanky, knees and elbows. He scowled.

It hadn't mattered in the past. Numerous beds he'd been kicked out of, jobs lost. He just padded back down with Lizzy, apologized to her, and she took him back. Something about Finch had made him fight to stay, put down roots. He liked the job at the shop. He liked her. Pining about it was ridiculous when she was all but married to his families' rival.

He stroked her soft cheek, watching as her lips parted just so in sleep, color returning to her face slowly as she warmed under the blanket. A strange flutter of his heart warned him - he was fucked.

***

Vance had shown up in the wee hours of the next morning. Thad had fallen asleep in a terribly uncomfortable position, fingers coiled in Finch's hair and thumb just resting on her pulse. Vance had lifted the sleepy girl from his lap and tossed silent scowls at him. It was a strange morning. He found himself locking up the shop - keys back from Vance to do just that, and stretching out. 

He had a crick in his neck, but he could still feel Finch's warm body against his leg. He sighed, pulling out his mobile.

[Need a place to shower, luv. Help a mate out? TB]

[It's fuckin 4 30 arsehole - abz]

[cmon, your loverboy keeping you on that short a leash? TB]

[I'll be outside in 20 TB]

[castrate you ect ect ect  - abz]

Thad grinned at his phone with sharp teeth. He hopped the Tube to Baker Street station, trying not to fall back asleep with the clack of the tracks. He scratched at his slick hair, feeling dirty. The shop was unfortunately not equipped with a shower.

[Downstairs. Don't wake Dom TB]

After a few moments the locked clicked and Abby, wearing thin pyjama bottoms and one of Spencer's tees, opened the door. "Go away. I hate mornings."

"Yeah, me too. Specially when my ex-girlfriend's dead and my boss passes out in my lap and oh yeah I got kicked out of the place I was staying," Thaddeus said, pushing inside. "I feel gross." He shivered. "God, I just need someone that made sense for five seconds."

"How'd Finch manage to get you out of her place?" Abby wondered, closing and locking the door behind her. "I thought you were pretty permanen' there."

"Meathead boyfriend," Thad grouched. "Nearly beat the shit out of me. No better than any thug."

"So get your own place. It's no' like you need to live in that flat," Abby replied, leading him up the stairs to the bathroom. "Do you?"

Thad shrugged out of his leather jacket, rolling his shoulders. "Maybe, I dunno. Liked it there," he hummed. "Why're you still here?"

Abby raised an eyebrow at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Um, my flat burned to the ground. By your people. Or didja forget?"

"Not my people," Thad said, removing his long sleeved shirt. He shook out his hair over his tattooed shoulders. "I fucking left that. Or did you forget?"

"Blood is blood, you ain't nevah goin' to leave that," Abby said, and it wasn't sarcastic, just a statement of fact.

Thad's blue tattoos were a strange combination of Celtic knots and Chinese whorls. He dropped his things in a chair. He never felt truly naked.

"Yeah, well, hiding out in Moriarty's den seems to be working for both of us. How long you going to stick about with the little blighter? Not really your scene, Abs," he said, tossing his chin.

"Ah, I dunno," Abby scratched at her head. She was wavering, really. "I dunno if I'm goin' to leave. And um, I mean, soon. Probably soon."

"Oh for fuck's sake, really?" Thad snickered. "We're pathetic."

"Wha'? What do you mean, really? I'm no' doin' nothin'," Abby replied, averting her eyes. "Look, I just don' know right now. Spencer is- he's somethin'. Somethin' like I've never had before."

"Where's the shower?" Thad asked.

"Here, and here's a towel. Quiet, don't wake them up. I think that dragon is still upstairs," Abby told him. "I'll make you coffee."

"Bless your wicked little heart," Thad whispered. He turned on the hot water, breathing in the scent of clean things. He needed a flat, he guessed. One can't sofa surf for nearly fifteen years and not settle down eventually.

Spencer stirred, dragging himself to the kitchen.

"All right?" he drawled, exhausted. He'd gotten another shot the day before.

"Ah, erm, yes. Your sister finally evicted the pest from her flat, only to have it turn up at yours," Abby said, filling the coffee maker with water. "He's actin' weird."

"Mmrpph," Spencer grumbled. "Gun's in the freezer. I'm knackered." He yawned. "Yell if you need me to.. erm. something or something." He continued muttering as he slid his feet back to the bedroom, flopping back onto the king sized monstrosity that was his bed.

Abby frowned, watching the little Prince flounce back to his room, muttering under her breath, "Could've used a chat, y'know, like from a boyfriend."

"What was that?" Thad said, tying the towel around his head in a twisty turban. He had on a robe that had been in the loo with his jeans. His face was pink with scrubbing.

"Nothin'. Just talking to myself," Abby replied, sighing. "You're going to go somewhere else, yeah? You're not squattin' here, I think the blond one would kill ya."

Thad snorted, sitting at the table. "Yeah, I'll probably head back to the shop," he said. "Change clothes, and I guess look for a flat. Just- disappointed, y'know? Kind of liked living there with Finch. She was fussy, bossy, and.. hell, nothing like your sister."

"Yeah. For one, she's sober," Abby agreed, rolling her thin shoulders. Her hair was already fading, it would need another dye soon. She needed a job. "Can't believe she seriously wouldn't let you kip over. I mean, the boyfriend's mean but he ain't that mean."

"Well, I might've not asked properly, an' all that. Girls seem to be particular on that. Moriarty needed to show me whose place is what. And apparently, it's not in his girl's bed," Thad smirked, undoing the towel to ruffle it through his hair. "So your boyfriend."

"What about my boyfriend?" Abby took her own mug to the table, slumping down on the wooden surface. "Got one. It's weird. Not sure I like it. No' much to tell." She looked up at him. "He's into things. Weird things."

"You love him though," Thad said, reaching for her mug, twisting it around for his own. "Despite the monster upstairs."

"Dunno. I mean, what is love, anyway? All I know abou' it is that's the thing boys will say righ' before they leave you," Abby said, drawing weird lines on the table.

"His sort don't change, you know that," Thad said. "He hasn't hurt you, has he?"

"What? No, um, no, why you ask?" Abby sat up, her face twisting into something confusion. "He wouldn't."

Thad gave her an equally evasive stare as he drank her coffee. "You never picked up with someone like this," he said. "Jus' checking you're not under some sort of..." He waved a hand.

"Yeah, can you see me takin' some shit off a guy? You know me better'n that," Abby said. Her dark eyes stared back at him. "You jus' had to go for Finch, didn't you."

"I was just havin' her on," Thad said, wishing for a cigarette. "But then she sortof, I dunno," he shrugged. "She had one of those things last night. Passed out, then fell asleep on the shop sofa. She was just sort of.." Thad tilted his head, smiling at the memory. "Like she'd never had to see the evils we've seen."

"Yeah, 'at's probably why the other bloke likes her. Finch said he was homeless when they met. Mummy took a shinin' to 'im," Abby teased.

"Tiger Papa gave me the keys," Thaddeus breathed, taking another drink of coffee. "What's that tell you?"

"You're in some deep shite, because Mummy's the one that pulls the strings," Abby sighed, slouching down. "We could have a flatshare. You an' me. I mean, you're the last person on Earth I'd want to share a flat with but, if you're lookin'."

"I suppose," Thaddeus said, still trying to figure out how he could remain close to Finch. He could never afford a flat in her neighborhood. "Thought you were cozy here?"

"I- I am. Isn't that the problem? People like us, it don't do to get too cozy anywhere. Look what 'appened to my shop," Abby replied. She sipped her coffee, wondering. "It always goes. Can't let your feet plant roots."

"That won't be happening around here," Spencer said, slightly more awake and slightly more dressed than he had been.

"Ah, the dark prince rises," Thad said.

Abby's eyes were wide, and she took a convenient gulp of scalding liquid, sputtering it out. "What are you doing awake? You're supposed to be asleep-"

"With strangers in my flat?" Spencer, brow raised behind his glasses. "Sorry, mate. No room at the inn. You're welcome to the shower, even the protection you get from hanging about-"

"Caught that did you?" Thaddeus said with a sly grin.

"Shan and McCannadys? They'd have to work together to even try putting a dent in Mum's empire, and I doubt the Irish could even nick us right now after what I asked Mum for," Spencer said, stalking around the table. Thad felt the hair on his arms rise. "Nope, you're safe as houses with us."

"I count on it."

"Excuse me if I don't believe it's as simple as that," Abby propped her head up on her arm. elbow on the wood. "What'd you ask your Mum for, pretty boy?"

"Protection," Spencer said, looking a bit nervous as he reached for a cup of coffee for himself. He usually preferred tea. "For you. Back when your place burnt, and Mum still held the reigns."

"Yeah, well, now Finch's loverboy holds the reigns. And he ain't fond of me at all," Abby said, pursing her lips.

"He'll uphold whatever Moriarty set forth," Spencer said, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Or he'll break the illusion. My sister had an episode?"

Thad nodded. "Went down, but bounced back quick. Didn't think it was worth all the blue lights to have them send her back home," he replied.

"Make sure she drinks enough when she works. She forgets," Spencer said with a frown. "Water, not fizzy drinks."

"Yes, little prince," Thad said with a tiny smile.

Spencer's hand tightened slightly on Abby's shoulder.

"Spencer," Abby warned, looking up at him. "Bit tight, don't you think?"

Spencer relaxed his hand. He leaned down to kiss Abby on the cheek. "Sorry," he whispered. "I think it's best you'd be going," he added, meeting Thad's eyes.

"Oh quite," Thaddeus said, pushing out of his seat. He left both the towel and robe on the chair. "I'll be in touch, Abs. Behave yourself, love." He winked.

"Could say the same to you," Abby replied, quirking a brow. "Don't go catchin' any wild birds."

"Only the tamest," Thaddeus said, pulling his shirt over his head. "Soft, sweet, delicate little birds. See you on Saturday. We're triple booked."

"Why would you be seein' me, then? You're too busy to 'ave friends over," Abby said, watching him dress himself.

Thad glanced from her to Spencer. "Yeah, alright," he said, grabbing his jacket. "Nother time then." The unease of the situation making him double and triple think his own emotional response to Finch. Spencer was.. intense. Controlling. Thaddeus could see why Madame Moriarty hadn't picked her younger son as her successor. The boy would've taken a precarious web of feather light deals and threats and ruled it with an iron fist too strong.

"What's goin' on?" Abby asked, pushing herself up out of her chair to look at her boyfriend. "You got a problem?"

"Finch is happy. She doesn't need that," Spencer frowned. "You weren't chummy with him, then you're offering to split a flatshare? What happened to this?"

"I'm not chummy with 'im. But I don't have to be to share a flat with 'im. I mean, y'know, maybe with you an' Bran, I dunno, you might need more privacy," Abby replied. "And he knew my sister."

"Shagged your sister," Spencer clarified, possessive. "I feel like -" He put the heel of his hand to his forehead. "Abby. I don't want to choose between you and Brandon. It's - apples and oranges. You and me and him. Could you not just.. try downstairs, like we talked about?"

Abby chewed her lip, wishing she could erase the hurt look on his face while at the same time declaring a bit of independence. "It's not that I want you to choose. I know I'm diff'rent from him. It's that, y'know-" She twisted her lip to the side. "He asked if you were 'urtin' me. An' you're not, but I don't know how this all works."

Spencer looked back at her. He took her hand, leading her to the sitting room, to the sofa and reached for the blanket.

"Come here," he said, pulling it around his shoulders and laying down.

Abby paused, wondering where the 'please' was, but she laid down as he asked, curling into him. "Alright. I'm here."

Spencer curled around her. He licked his lips, pulling off his glasses and reaching to lay them on the coffee table.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, kissing her forehead. "Not physically, and for God's sake, not emotionally either." He looked into her eyes. "If moving out is what you need, then -" He inhaled deeply. "I'll miss you greatly, and hope we can still see each other. My father attempted to keep his lovers without compromise, and he bloody well lost the person who loved him most." He laid his cheek against her fading hair. "I don't want to lose you because I fail to communicate."

"We'll work somethin' out. You make me nervous," Abby confessed, her hand on his chest, finger curling their way into his shirt. "I don't know wha' to be aroun' you. And you need..." She glanced at the noise on the floorboards above her head. "You get up to some weird stuff. It takes time to understand that."

Spencer nodded. "I know," he said. "I know. God, just- I'm trying, trying not to be like my father, Abby. I do care for you, a good deal. I want- I want to take you out, to make sure you're safe, happy." He hugged her tightly. "I need to take care of him. Can you understand that?"

"I'm trying to," Abby replied softly. She squeezed him. "I know you need him. I'm not trying to stop that."

Spencer kissed her head. "From the sound of your friend - you don't.. do this sort of thing usually. Relationships," he said.

"No. I don't really." She nudged her head further under his chin, curled as close to him as she could manage without being absorbed. "Sex is sex. People are unreliable. People who stick about too long ask questions, people who are in the life are too flaky. Never really considered keepin' someone about on a regular basis. Just weren't done."

"Maybe we can change that - distance at first. Work back to this. We skipped a few steps, missed the negotiations - illness and injury. I can't promise monogamy, you understand that. I-" he stopped. "I won't expect the same, but please remain safe with any partners. Of course, you're welcome to stay, until you've found a flat. In my bed, or downstairs. Or kick me out of my own room if you like." He giggled softly.

"Okay, we'll see what happens," Abby agreed hesitantly, wondering what the correct response would be. Part of her was a little disappointed, but she couldn't quite figure out why. She sighed, listening to Bran's footsteps above them. Spencer loved Bran. Spencer was willing to fight for Bran. She felt sort of extra. Perhaps unnecessary. "We'll work somethin' out."

"Please don't stop being my girlfriend," Spencer whispered in her ear. "Please. I know I'm rotten at this.. normal thing, but I'm trying. Please. I want this too."

The purple haired girl took pity on his desperate murmurings, and replied, "It's okay, I'm still your girlfriend. Besides, who wants normal? Normal is boring."

Spencer snuggled down. "Back to sleep, he's just going off to work," he yawned. "You can turn on the telly if you want."

"In a bit. Get some rest," Abby said, feeling like she could nap a little herself. And then go look for a job. And then, maybe, start over again.

"Feel safer with you here," Spencer sighed. "Against me." His last word trailed off in a dozy sigh. The bit of coffee hadn't done anything but warm his stomach. It was much, much too early for the late night crime chaser. He had an uncomfortable sense of worry, but he would either fly or fall. For once, he had the chance to make the choices on his own.

***

Vance had taken a sleepy Finch from Thad's arms. He driven her home, and brought her up to the loft. He'd stayed up all night worrying over her. Sometimes her work kept her late, but late became too late and he checked the cameras. Watching her pass out was worse than the first time. Especially since it was into Thaddeus's arms - again.

He kept his anger buried deep when he went to pick her up. He didn't understand it, but she didn't like him being mean to Thad. Coworker, maybe friend - Finch always said she didn't have friends. Maybe she'd made one when he'd been away. It didn't help that the friend was an attractive male.

He hadn't considered that. He rolled over, pulling Finch closer to him.

She'd made a friend. He'd been unreasonable thinking she might be unfaithful just because of his mistrust. He needed to trust his girlfriend, his lover. 

He stroked her hair. She was lightly pink in the warmth of their cocoon. 

"Hey, baby bird," he murmured.

"Mmm, Vance," Finch said, cuddling into him. She stretched, curling her toes. "Too early. G'sleep."

"It's growing close to noon," he laughed softly. "Gave me a scare there. Again. Have you remembered your pill?"

"I remembered," she replied, before starting, her heart racing in her chest. "Oh! Oh, God! I have an appointment at one, I'm meant to be at work!"

Vance pressed a hand to her chest, pressing her back down. "Hold on, love, down," he said. "Calm down. Let me fix you some lunch, alright? Take your next dose and get some food in your stomach?"

"I'm alright," Finch said, but she laid back down next to him. The space was warm and cozy. She laced her fingers with his, holding his hand. "I didn't forget my dose. I've even set an alarm so I wouldn't forget."

Vance smiled, looking down at her. He stroked his thumb over her warm hand.

"That's a girl," he cheered. "I was thinking. Maybe we should get a dog."

"I don't want a dog. You're always away, I'd have to walk it. I'm not much for pickin' up after an animal," Finch said, squeezing his hand.

"But they make them service dogs. Train 'em to catch people afore they have seizures and such," Vance countered. "And I'm not going anywhere. Your mum's givin' me gopher people, and your dad and Jack're teaching me who to trust. Put in my own people, so I can stay in London. It was about getting my face known to the biggest players. They bloody well know now. So maybe we could could get them to train up a service dog to help with your things."

"Oh fuck no!" Finch pushed away from him, shaking her head. "I'm not blind or, or disabled. Mum never had a damn dog!"

"But puppies..." Vance said. "Alright, fine. It's just.. if you'd been alone last nigh'..." He frowned. "Your Mum had people."

"Vance, we've been over this." Her lower lip jutted out, and she laid her head back down. "This doesn't change anything. It's going to be fine. Mum was always fine."

Vance stroked down her side.

"Your Mum had a stroke. Not much older than you are now," he whispered. "It's what put her in a wheelchair, ruint her legs. She had everyone around her when it happened too."

"She probably only had a stroke to spite Sherlock. Vance, I'm not in danger. Things aren't what they were twenty years ago," Finch told him. She brushed his jaw with her fingers. "You worry. You and everyone else, you all worry so much, and I'm never allowed to handle anything on my own. I don't know what to do with you."

"Kiss me," Vance said, wicked grin on his face. She grinned back and did just that.

"There. Now what?" Finch asked.

"Don't have a stroke to spite me," Vance huffed, nuzzling her cheek. "Any lingering feelings. Chest hurt?" he asked, running a hand between her breasts.

"Not really." She kissed his forehead, and then his cheek. "I'm really going to be fine."

Vance caught her lips with his own, covering her body protectively. He licked along her jaw, suckling at her neck, giving it little nips of his teeth. He growled in his chest. Finch giggled.

"Try not to remind me of my father while we're making out."

"Hmm?" Vance wondered. "He is a bit rumbly." He laughed, sucking a place on the other side of her neck. "Who should I remind you of? Hm? Thinking of me? You still owe me a tattoo, bird."

Finch gasped, his mouth causing her to buck forward a little, pressing their bodies close. "Did you, erm, ah- um, decide what you want? I mean, I mean, as a tattoo!"

Vance chuckled, slipping his hand down the front of her pants. "I was hoping you'd come up with something for me, lovely girl. Something to go right over my heart," he murmured in her ear, nibbling at her lobe.

She snorted, leaning her head on his shoulder to hide the giggles. "You'd better choose something before I plaster a large picture of a finch on your chest. Just because."

"Yes, the fierce finch," he chuckled. "I'll be the nightmare of every madman."

"Then pick something," she countered, biting his shoulder for laughing at her. "Or don't. I don't have to tattoo you. I like your body like it is."

Vance hissed. "You do?" he asked, stroking over her folds, kissing along her collar bone. Her cunt was quickly becoming wet for him, her mouth gasping out little breaths. It was like every time for her was the first time, new and exciting.

"Yes, I love you," she breathed, torn between touching him back and just enjoying being spoiled. Wanting more. She settled on drawing lazy circles over his back. "I love how you look."

Vance gave a muffled moan against her neck. "I love you, too," he panted. "You're wet-" he gasped.

"You're gorgeous," Finch replied, mouthing at his throat. "More?"

"Time before your appointment?" Vance asked, breathless as he gave her a wolfish grin. She nodded furiously.

"I'm already late. Might as well be later than late." She kissed him, hard, pulling him in against her.

Vance's tongue delved deep inside her as he coaxed more of her wetness out along her body. He pushed down the pyjamas he'd gotten her into, and pulled down his own sweatpants. His cock curved upwards, nothing to sneeze at. He laid back out on her, pulling her in for a kiss as he arched, pressing inside her with a hum.

Their bodies together were warm and sweet. Vance stroked Finch's hair, jaw, keeping their lips locked as he rocked into her. She was always so sweetly responsive to him, legs wrapped around his slight body, hips eagerly meeting his thrust for thrust. Her arms hugged him close.

"You can't believe how many nights I missed this," Vance murmured rapidly in her ear. "Feeling you, smelling you, tasting you. Beautiful memori- ah!" He bit his lip, pressing his lips back against Finch's to nip at her's. "Fuck."

"Missed you. Needed you- so, so much," Finch replied in breathy whispers. "Ah, umm, only you. Waited just for you."

"I know," Vance said. "I-ah, trusted you." He bit down on her neck, arching as he grasped her legs, setting up a faster pace. He played her body like a well tuned fiddle, bringing them both over, until they were a sweaty mess of love and twisted limbs. He panted heavily into Finch's ear, body draped over hers as his cock softened inside her. "I trust ya, y'know that, right?"

Finch nodded, playing with Vance's sweat-damp hair. "Mmhmm. I know you do. I trust you, too."

"Mmm, that makes me want to go back to sleep," he teased. "No rest for the wicked, bird. I'll bring you coffee to the shop."

"Pity you're going to sleep," Finch giggled, inching out of the loft. "I'm going to take a shower. It gets so lonely in there, all alone..."

Vance was crawling after her with a cackle. He was insatiable since he'd returned home. Once the interloper was gone, they could walk about naked, shag anywhere in the flat. It was- remarkable. He was madly, madly in love with her. She made the dark world he cared for worth it.

Dripping and tucked in towels, Vance ruffled a third towel through Finch's curls.

"Your mum's set me up for a specialist," he said.

"A specialist? For what?" Finch asked, her voice muffled by the towel.

Vance cupped it on either side of her face. "My eyes, er well," he tilted his head away from the bad side. The scarring never did turn entirely silvery. It was still pinkish in places, especially after a hot shower. His scarred cornea made his eye cloudy and silvery. "See if any vision can't be fix't. Or make the scarring less inside. Sure it makes me look like a Bond villain, but it ain't real good when things are tense."

"Oh," Finch said, her mouth forming a puckery little 'o' shape, looking just a little disappointed. She tried to brighten her expression. "That's good. I know it bothers you."

"An' I know you're fond of it," Vance said, tugging her closer. "They aren't touching the rugged scar, just the internal bits. It ain't promising, but they may shoot a laser at my good eye, make it perfect sight least. I cannae see as well as I like, bird, and I wanna keep seeing you."

"I want to keep seeing you, too," Finch whispered, holding him tight. "No matter what your face looks like, I shall love you either way. I don't want you to get hurt because of your eye."

"An' I don't want you hurt cos of your heart," Vance said, kissing the top of her wet curls. "Least that idiot took care of ya, Wanker."

"Yeah, he usually does," Finch said, not even realizing how it sounded. "Makes me eat all sorts of things that look like twigs and bits, and always harps on about exercise. Meanwhile, never read any of the Narnia books or the Lord of the Rings, at all. Apparently, he can't sit still long enough."

"Not even the Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe?!" Vance said, looking startled. "The Hobbit?"

"I know, he's an uncultured swine," Finch replied solemnly.

"Heathen," Vance sneered. "Bet he hadn't even touched a Rowling book. The woman made British fictional lit a milestone. I fear for your intelligence, my love. Don't let him brainleech you." He kissed her forehead.

"Never," Finch agreed happily, entirely too pleased that Vance had turned out to be a reader. She didn't think she'd ever like a man who didn't like books. "I'm late. Will you be here when I come home?"

"Hmm, I have a meeting at nine, and a thing a bit after," Vance said. "What time are you home?"

"One, maybe two. Depends on how the night goes," Finch stood to pull on her jeans and tee shirt. She kissed him again. "Be safe."

"Always, bird," Vance promised. "I'll be home. Swear it."