Creation In Death

“Yes, sir.”

She didn’t object when Roarke slung an arm around her shoulders. “Why don’t I drive you home, Lieutenant.”

“Yeah, you could do that. Peabody, I don’t want to see you here before ten tomorrow.”

“I am so all over that. Dallas-”

“Don’t even think about hugging me. Is there no end to the humiliation my men dole out?”

“Aw,” Peabody said, but was gri

S he dropped off like a stone the minute she was in the car. Roarke drove with one hand on the wheel, one hand over hers. Halfway home, he switched to auto and let his own exhausted mind rest.

The lights of home were like stars, shining. He took his hand from hers to press his own fingers to his eyes, then climbed out to go around and open her door. But when he reached down to lift her, she batted a hand at his arm.

“No. I can walk.”

“Thank Christ, because I think trying to haul you up at this point would have both of us on our asses in the bloody driveway. Here.” He gripped her hand, gave her a tug. And the two of them stood a moment in the cold, bleary with fatigue.

“We just have to get inside, get upstairs, and fall into bed,” she decided. “We can do that.”

“All right then. Here we go.”

They wrapped arms around each other’s waists, held each other up as they walked to the front door, and through.

“Look at the pair of you.” Summerset stood like a black cloud in the foyer. “Stumbling in like drunks, and I’d say in need of a good wash and a decent meal.”

“Up yours, fuckface.”

“As always, such a command of the language.”

“Have to stand with my wife on this one,” Roarke said. “Or fall, as may very well be the case any moment. Though the fuckface was a bit harsh. Let’s take the elevator, darling. I’m too bleeding tired for the stairs.”

Summerset shook his finger at Galahad, who stood up to follow as they passed. “I think not,” he said quietly to the cat. “Let’s leave it just the two of them, shall we? And now that the children are home safe and sound, we’ll have a little snack before bed.”

“Bed,” Eve said as they stumbled out of the elevator. “I think I can actually smell bed-but in a good way.” She began to let things fall-her coat, then her jacket, her weapon-on her way to the bed, as Roarke did exactly the same.

“I have something to say.”

“Better make it quick,” she warned, “because I think I’m already asleep.”

“I’ve worked with you before, watched, understood-to some extent-what you do. But I haven’t really gone the gamut, as with this time. Begi

“You’re not so shabby yourself.” She turned to him, and with the lights still on looked into his eyes. “I’m not going to ask how you pulled off what I asked you to pull off.”

“It’s a bit complicated to explain at the moment in any case.”

“We had him, we stopped him, and Ariel Greenfeld’s safe. But there wouldn’t have been justice, not even a shadow of real justice, if you hadn’t done it.” She laid her hand on his cheek. “We did good work.”

“So we did.” Their lips pressed together briefly. “Now let’s have ourselves an eight-hour vacation.”

“To quote Peabody,” she said, voice already slurring, “‘I’m so all over that.’”

“Lights off,” he ordered.

In the dark, with her hand on his cheek, they slid into sleep.