In Tandem

This is a bonus scene which takes place after the events of my novel Jinx. Please note that this scene may contain spoilers for the book!

Greenwood woke up slowly, until she became aware that something wasn’t as it should be.

She became fully awake in an instant, drawing on all her senses to work out what was different. Her own third-floor apartment on the Rue Ducale. Her own bedroom. And out in the hallway, just visible through the doorframe, her tan leather jacket in its usual place on the leftmost hook — with another jacket, almost as familiar, beside it.

Coffee, her mind said.

It was the smell of coffee that had wakened her. Her usual morning drink was tea, serving as breakfast, and she didn’t tend to have coffee at home except on rare occasions. The coffee machine at KESTREL’s headquarters was far better than her own, and she didn’t tend to have to make it herself anyway, because of the man who was now walking out of her kitchen with two mugs in his hands.

Aldridge was wearing his jeans from yesterday, but apparently hadn’t reclaimed his t-shirt just yet. As he entered the bedroom and saw that she was awake, a small smile appeared on his face.

“Don’t shoot; I’m unarmed and I have coffee,” he said, and Greenwood knew that he’d anticipated her being on high alert this morning. It was the same phrase he used most days at work when he brought the same beverage to her in her office.

She sighed, unsure exactly how she would respond, and she knew that he was treading carefully too. It should have been awkward, or at least tense. It could have been a time for regret, or embarrassment, or silence. But so many things had changed during the past several days, and this was the only one that felt like it was for the better.

“Withholding coffee is reasonable grounds for use of lethal force,” she replied, playing her part in their often-practised dialogue, “so bring it here, Aldridge.”

He looked immeasurably relieved, and Greenwood mentally gave him a few points for not trying to conceal it. Men were like a lot of things, and on the morning after, they were mostly like puppy dogs.

“Now what was that thought?” he asked, eyes twinkling, and she reminded herself once again that he could read her better than she usually gave him credit for. It had been evident the night before, too.

Get a hold of yourself, she thought, knowing for certain that her cheeks were flushed now, and Aldridge tactfully — or perhaps tactically — said nothing as he handed her one of the mugs. She raised it to her lips, not drinking yet, and regarded him after a few seconds.

“You’re just delighted with yourself right now,” she said.

It was a statement instead of a question, but of course he opened his mouth to respond anyway. Greenwood braced herself for a quip, and it looked like she was going to get one, but after a moment his smirk softened into something else.

“I’m just… I’m glad you’re being like this,” he said. “That you’re letting yourself be like this, I mean. I hoped you would.”

For some reason — perhaps the look in his eyes, or the fact that she’d just woken up, or that they’d made love last night, or a hundred other things — the words slipped effortlessly past her defences, and with a combination of shock and dismay she thought that she might actually be about to cry.

Good bloody Lord, Jessica!

“Woah, ok,” Aldridge said, quickly putting his own mug on the bedside table and sitting down on the bed beside her. “Too early for earnest sentimentality; got it. Could I interest you in an annoying habit, or perhaps a clumsy innuendo? I can even do both at the same time.”

He waggled his eyebrows, and it was enough to put a pin in the moment and allow her to regain her composure. Sensing that she might need a little bit of physical space, Aldridge stood up again, retrieved his mug, and went over to the bedroom window. The view of the Parc de Bruxelles was soothing, and he wondered how often she took the time to truly appreciate it.

Behind him, he heard the rustle of the covers as Greenwood got out of bed, followed immediately by the small sounds of her feet touching the floor. He very much wanted to look around, but he knew that the best strategy was to give her whatever privacy she wanted. He felt that the situation might be balanced on a knife-edge, and he preferred to let her set the pace. Aldridge heard the unmistakeable sound of her picking up clothing from the floor, and he dug deep into his reserves of willpower to remain silent and still.

“See anything interesting?” Greenwood asked from behind him, and he almost laughed with relief at the teasing note in her voice.

“Just enjoying the view,” he replied lightly, staring out at the park without seeing it, then he forced himself to take a sip of coffee. A moment later, he heard her padding across the floor, and then felt her arms snake around his waist from behind. She didn’t say anything, so Aldridge rested his free hand on her forearm. She felt warm.

Greenwood let herself enjoy the sensation of being close to someone like this for the first time in quite a while. The fact that it was a man she completely trusted made it feel different, as if a preamble or a prologue had been skipped. She wondered what Aldridge would think of that observation, even though she knew she wouldn’t share it with him.

There were questions to answer, of course. Some of them would come from him, but not right away. They would be implicit in small acts, like the way he went over to the window — but she would hear them before he ever gave voice to them. Perhaps she’d answer them before they were asked.

This is what you’re like before you’ve had coffee, her mind said, but she knew that it was just her lifelong habit of sidestepping personal matters. And some of it was also the voice of Aldridge that she heard in her head sometimes, trying to get a rise out of her, or a smile.

Most of the questions, though, would be her own. She was already ignoring them actively, refusing to hear phrases like inappropriate relationship, or conflict of interest, or chain of command, or conduct unbecoming. When she did allow them to slip through, they were in Wuyts’s voice.

Things have changed a lot in that department, she thought, and then immediately she thought of Marcus, their mysterious new Director.

So far, he seemed a lot less autocratic than Wuyts had been, but she had only met him yesterday. Everything was up in the air. The only certainty was that a lot of things were going to be different.

“If your thoughts get any louder, your downstairs neighbours are going to start complaining,” Aldridge said from just in front of her, and she smiled into his back, before pressing a kiss against the skin there. She was pleased at the slight shiver she managed to elicit.

“You know me too well,” she replied, wondering if it was true. She decided that it wasn’t, but that it could be someday, at least potentially.

“Better than yesterday,” Aldridge said, taking a chance, and Greenwood unfolded one of her hands briefly to jab him in the stomach, without moving from her position.

“Don’t spoil it,” she replied, “or I might reconsider all this.”

She knew exactly what he was thinking, as surely as if she’d suddenly become telepathic, and she didn’t have to wait more than three seconds for confirmation.

“So you have considered it already,” he said, his tone conspicuously breezy. “Any conclusions I should know about?”

Greenwood rolled her eyes. Puppy dog.

“Too early for conclusions,” Greenwood replied. “Early in the day, and early generally. I think I want to forget all about conclusions for a while.”

“I know what you mean,” Aldridge said, and after another moment he moved to turn within the circle of her arms, causing her to loosen her grip. Facing her now, he reached around her waist with his free arm and pulled her against him once more. With that done, he took another sip of coffee, and then put the cup down on the windowsill.

This was new for both of them, but he reminded himself that she wasn’t running away or throwing him out, and she’d just implied that this evolution in their relationship might remain in place, at least for the time being. It was more than he’d hoped for.

“If only we had some practice in keeping secrets from people,” he said, speaking into the top of her head, and then he immediately winced inwardly, realising that the quip was a misstep. As he scrambled for a way to make up for the error, Greenwood leaned back a little, just far enough that she could look up at him.

“Now would be a good time for that ability to redo the last few seconds, Aldridge,” she said, but the expression on her face was one of amusement at his discomfort.

“I wish,” he replied. “And I didn’t mean to imply that I, uh…”

“Wanted to run around in secret,” Greenwood supplied. “Any more than we usually do, anyway. But that’s another thing I want to forget about for now. We can make those decisions when the time comes.”

He smiled, then he nodded, not quite trusting himself to say anything else on the matter. “I do need to ask you one thing, though, and it’s important.”

Greenwood felt her pulse quicken a little, and she pressed her lips together for a moment. “Such as?”

Aldridge moved his hands from her lower back to her waist, and gave her a searching look.

“Why is there a subscription copy of BBC Gardeners’ World magazine in the hallway? You’re on the third floor. And we’re in Belgium. And you don’t even have a garden.”

They were sitting at her kitchen table, just finishing a cobbled-together breakfast.

They had made love again, then showered together even though the shower wasn’t really big enough, and Aldridge now smelled of her own shampoo. Greenwood was desperate to tease him about it, but a recently-unearthed girlish part of her was quietly delighted.

Get a grip, she told herself.

Aldridge was leafing through the gardening magazine he’d asked her about, and seemed satisfied with her explanation that it was a little piece of home, and something that reminded her of her mother. He had, of course, asked her if she only read it for the articles.

The whole day, or even week, was ahead of them, and she knew that they would likely spend the majority of their time together. They had mundane tasks to attend to at their respective apartments, but there was no reason that they couldn’t both do those things, first at her place and then at his.

In tandem, she thought. Together. As a… pair.

She almost rolled her eyes at herself. It had barely been twenty-four hours, but of course that wasn’t entirely true, either. This had been coming for a long time, and if — or rather when — the other three members of their team found out, they would only be surprised at the timeframe, not the fact itself.

As if the thought had summoned it, Greenwood’s phone chirped with a text message. They exchanged a look, then she unlocked her device and read the words on the screen, which had been sent by Larry Dowling.

Sorry to bother you, chief. Just a heads up that you might have taken Aldridge’s phone home too by mistake, according to tracking. Hope you enjoy your time off.

She shook her head, allowing herself to laugh, then she handed the phone to Aldridge so he could read it too.

“Busted,” he said. “And after spending the last week hyper-focused on digital surveillance and invasions of privacy. Should I chuck our phones in the microwave for thirty seconds on High?”

“Bit late for that,” Greenwood replied, reaching across the table towards him. Aldridge slid the phone back to her, but Greenwood pushed it to one side and took his hand instead.

“You know that Larry isn’t going to say anything,” she said, and he nodded.

“He doesn’t even know anything,” Aldridge replied, and Greenwood raised an eyebrow.

“OK, of course he does,” he admitted, “but really it’s an assumption. A wild one. Wildly accurate.”

She laughed again, and Aldridge very much liked the sound of it. He’d heard her laugh more in the last two days than in the whole rest of the time he’d known her. He looked down at their intertwined hands. Her fingers were slender and cool, with nails sensibly trimmed as per firearms protocol. He sighed.

“What?” Greenwood asked, once again raising an eyebrow. “Out with it.”

He shrugged, actually feeling a little bashful for once. “Just, uh, I really like this. That’s all.”

She suppressed a smirk at his sudden boyish inarticulateness. “Me too,” she replied. “And I always knew you were the mushy type.”

Aldridge grinned, still looking down at their hands. “I’ll have you know that I’m very sensitive right now and you should be wary of hurting my feelings.”

Greenwood snorted, pulling her hand away and reaching for the cup of rapidly cooling tea beside her. He looked up at her, eyes twinkling, clearly warming to his subject, with his earlier waver in confidence forgotten.

“That’s my whole thing, actually,” he continued. “I’m like a wounded fieldmouse: normally upsetting, but somehow made more palatable by vulnerability.”

Greenwood had to put the tea down. The man was ridiculous. But she’d already known that, yet here they were.

Where, though? she asked herself.

But there was ample time to find an answer. Today was just today, and the most important moment was right now. It felt as true at her own kitchen table as it did when they were on a mission, doing their strange and barely believable work.

“Why do I think that’s some terrible, misguided line that you’ve used with women before?” she asked, and Aldridge sudden leaned forward and took both of her hands in his, looking at her with such undisguised affection that she felt her pulse accelerate again.

“I think you know I’d always make up brand new terrible lines for you,” he said.

I hope you enjoyed this bonus scene from Jinx. Find out more about the book here!