Cardboard boxes were sprawled at the bottom of Slough House's narrow staircase. Their contents – highly important documents, as Catherine Standish insisted – had scattered across the concrete.

Sasha was leaning against the brick wall, arms folded. "What a bellend."

River stood halfway down the stairs, hands on his hips as he surveyed the damage. "Fuck." He rubbed at the scruff of his beard. "Reckon we can clean this up before Standish finds out?"

"We?" Sasha scoffed. She slunk away from the wall. "Oh, Cartwright. There is no we. This is your mess."

"Okay, well– I mean, yeah. But it's your fault for betting me I couldn't carry all those boxes at once."

"Which reminds me." She held out her palm. "Cough up."

"Right, but that wasn't a serious bet..." Sasha tilted her head in response. He groaned. "Seriously?"

River thudded down the remaining steps until he reached her. With a huff, he dug into his jeans pocket, pulled out a crumpled twenty, and smacked it into her hand.

She slid the cash down her t-shirt, and secured it in her sports bra. "Pleasure doing business with you."

River grumbled under his breath as she strolled past. Then, when she started to trot up the steps, his arms flung out in exasperation. "Uh, what? You're not even gonna help me clean this up?"

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Dickhead."

Catherine, who had seemingly materialised at the top of the stairs, chastised with a deep sigh, "Language, River."

Of course, had River not been so preoccupied staring at Sasha, he probably would've noticed the older woman's presence.

Sasha grinned tauntingly over her shoulder.

River scowled. "She called me a bellend–"

With a dramatic gasp, Sasha rested a hand across her heart. "I would never."

Catherine hummed, eyeing her suspiciously. Sasha crossed her on the stairs with an innocent smile.

The older woman sighed as she trod on a crumpled file. "How did this happen?"

River opened his mouth to explain, but seemed to think better of it. Sasha lingered on the landing to watch, her arms nonchalantly hanging over the bannister. "Yeah, what happened, Cartwright?"

He exhaled in defeat. And then, under the guise of somebody speaking in complete sincerity, he proceeded to lie straight through his teeth. "Honestly?" River addressed Catherine with his stupidly large pity me I'm just an innocent baby blue eyes. "She pushed me."

Sasha snatched the purple folder lay askew on the box in front of her – and launched it straight at him. "Wanker."

River fumbled embarrassingly in attempt to catch it. He watched helplessly as stray papers sailed to his feet.

Exasperatedly, he turned to Catherine. "Are you gonna tell her off too?"

Catherine shook her head in disappointment. "You know, I really do try to make this a positive work environment."

Sasha snorted. "Please, we thrive in toxicity."

"Well, you could at least try being a bit nicer," Catherine suggested. Sasha shared a disgruntled look with River. That would be the day. "Are we going to clear this up then?"

"No can do, I'm afraid," Sasha said. She pushed away from the railing. "Got important business to attend to. I'm sure River will help you out though."

"Oh yeah?" River challenged. "And what important business is that?"

Sasha shrugged. "Tea break." She stepped backwards and saluted him. "See you later."

River raised his middle finger.

Catherine whacked him. "Ow!" He hissed, rubbing the side of his arm. "Whose side are you on?"

The staff room was cramped and cold. Cobwebs decorated the corners. The cream wallpaper was peeling.

Sasha flicked the kettle switch down, back up, and then down again – the strict combination it required to function. Dried rings of tea and coffee stained various spots on the counter. The surface was dusted with sprinkles of sugar. Teabags had been left to rot on a straggly piece of kitchen roll.

Sasha grimaced, but the unkept state was nothing new.

Whilst waiting for the kettle to boil, she scrolled through her new Tinder messages. Although her luck in the spy field had been particularly atrocious, her extreme lack of good-fortune in the dating world was truly something to behold. Either men were getting progressively worse, or she'd overdone it with the self-help books and developed too much respect for herself.

But this new guy sounded promising – 6"3, a steady career in insurance, owned an adorable Beagle puppy. Their chats had been somewhat fun and interesting too. No pick up lines either, that was a bonus.

Sasha plucked a teabag from the tub and aimed it at her mug. It skimmed past the chipped rim and landed on the counter. Damn. She looked around. Nobody there. Tried again.

Missed.

Tried again.

Missed.

Huffing, she dropped the teabag in defeatedly, and reached for the steaming kettle.

Anyway. Her last date hadn't even bothered to show up – a small hit on the self esteem, she had to admit. But not quite as bad as the one before that; he was a catfish and gave major serial killer vibes. She'd actually had to call Louisa and Min to come and rescue her.

Min.

He'd driven her home from the pub in his crappy car, Coldplay's The Scientist stuck on loop, walked her inside, made her a cup of tea, even managed to force Louisa to watch a Married at First Sight episode with them. In the end, it turned out to be a great night. One she treasured fondly. Because that was one of Sasha's last memories of him.

"Fuck!"

Hot water scorched her skin. She dropped the kettle with a thud against the counter. She rushed to the tap and ran her scalded finger underneath, the cold water a temporary relief.

"Goodness, are you ok?" Catherine rushed inside. "What happened?"

Sasha took a deep, slow breath. The stinging was gradually fading to more of a dull ache. "Burned my hand."

Catherine spotted her phone discarded on the counter. She raised an eyebrow. "Were you distracted on Tinder again?" She asked with knowing amusement. Though there was an undertone of mild scolding, in a way that reminded Sasha of her own mother. "I wish you didn't feel the need to use those."

"What? And meet people the old fashioned way?" Sasha said back, gesturing to their surroundings. "At work?"

Catherine relented. "I see your point."

Sasha leaned towards, twisted the tap off.

"I wasn't on Tinder," Sasha said. She must have looked as if she wanted to say more, because Catherine kindly waited for her to elaborate. "I mean, well I was to begin with but, uh, I was thinking about that time Min and Louisa saved me from a bad date."

Catherine's smile faltered. Her stare averted to the drab, grey, vinyl floor. Sasha's eyes absentmindedly tracked a small puddle of water that trailed towards them.

Nobody mentioned Min Harper much these days. Sasha suspected it wasn't because nobody cared because they did, all of them. Well, maybe Lamb not so much. But she was convinced that, even beneath all the cigarettes and Chinese food clogging up his arteries, he surely had a heart somewhere in there. Deep in there.

But Sasha remembered several months back, when she and River had offered to clear Min's desk; how River claimed to have dust in his eyes after they'd set aside framed photos – one of Min and Louisa, another of Min and his children.

She recalled how Roddy was significantly less of an asshole those first few days afterwards. That Shirley and Marcus were on their best behaviour. The way Catherine doted on everyone; endless supplies of teas, coffees and packs of biscuits. And how Louisa had to excuse herself to the bathroom after the first few chords of The Scientist played on the radio.

The Slow Horses were avoiders. Chugging along with their deeply repressed emotions. Not bothering to address their shared grief.

But it was Min who always brought in the biscuits. Min who used to talk endlessly about the people in those photographs. Min who laughed when Roddy came up with some elaborate and grotesque 'true' story. Min who entertained Marcus and Shirley's stupid antics purely for the fun of it. Min who loved Louisa.

It was fucked up. Their colleague was murdered. But nobody talked about him. So Sasha just trundled along, saying nothing, even though it ached every time she walked past his empty desk.

River peered unsurely around the door. "Everything okay?"

Sasha wiped hastily underneath her eyes before she turned around. "Fine."

Catching sight of tearful eyes and the red raw skin on her hand, he asked, in what could possibly have been taken for concern, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"An accident with the kettle," Catherine clarified. She reached across to the blue paper towel dispenser on the wall, and tore a few sheets.

River's frown deepened. "You okay?" He moved towards Sasha, instinctively reaching for her hand. "Did you run it under the cold for long enough?"

Their eyes met. River managed to ping back to reality. And the realisation of what a stupid fucking question that was.

Before he had the chance to drop her hand, she retracted from his grasp. "Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?"

He offered her a wry smile. "I mean, only sometimes." Sasha's eyes narrowed. River, who had been on the receiving end of such a glare many times, stepped back. "Sorry."

An amused scoff came from behind them. Roddy Ho was leant against doorframe, smirking in his usual insufferably cocky manner. "Can't even boil a kettle?"

"Eat shit," Sasha snapped.

"Shut up, Roddy," River muttered.

The evil little bastard grinned at them both.

Catherine exhaled through her nose, crouching down to wipe the floor. "Why can't we all get along?"

"Because he's a cunt, Standish, that's why."

Catherine straightened up. "Sasha," she warned.

Jackson Lamb paused briefly in the doorway. He looked his usual grubby self; stained beige trench coat, a creased long sleeved shirt, and askew tie. His grey, greasy hair clung to his face. "River's a cunt? I thought we already knew that."

"Hah, funny," River snarked.

Sasha abandoned the desire for a cup of tea. Stepping into the corridor, her nose wrinkled in disgust at the unpleasant stench Lamb had left wafting behind him. Pig.

She fucking hated Slough House.

Sasha shouldn't even be there. Not really. She'd made the odd fuck up, but nothing to warrant torture like this. She hadn't, for instance, brought the entirety of Stansted airport to a halt and lost a ridiculous amount of tourist revenue. And Sasha certainly wasn't incompetent. She had her moments where intelligence perhaps waned, but she was a good agent.

Her career was only down the drain because of a man. A colleague who got away with harassing her for years until enough was enough – though  he managed to keep his job, whilst she was carted off to Slough House to bury a scandal. Fuck that.

Sasha shoulder barged the door that led to her shared office with River.

Looking back, she probably should have raised hell harder than she did. But she was young, naive, and promised a chance of returning to the Park once everything had blown over. Fat chance. They promoted the guy a week later.

At least if she'd gone full scorched earth, she wouldn't be stuck in a shitty, falling apart, building where nothing worked. And she definitely wouldn't be surrounded by some of the most brain numbing, frustrating–

A knock at the door.

River stepped inside, holding a steaming mug. "Made you a tea."

Sasha blinked. "Oh."

He smiled gently. "Figured you still wanted one," he said, and carefully set the drink on her desk.

In response to the gesture, a strange, almost warm feeling surged in her chest. Gratitude? How odd. Sasha was rarely appreciative of anything River did.

"Thanks."

"Oh, and Catherine insisted you wrap this around the burn." River was holding a red tea towel in his other hand, which he laid out on the table. Tentatively, he reached for her hand. Sasha, clearly in some form of shock, stared up at him dumbfounded and just let him. River gently set her palm in the middle and wrapped the material around her sore skin. "Too tight?"

"Uh, no, it's fine. Thanks."

Sasha didn't get much time to comprehend what was happening, because he had already moved on to making normal conversation. "Bad day?"

"Just sick of this place."

"Yeah, know the feeling." River offered her a small, sympathetic smile. He finished wrapping her hand – as if it meant nothing – and meandered to his desk, situated opposite hers. Sasha followed his movements suspiciously. "Any plans tonight?"

"Not much," Sasha responded. She became momentarily distracted, staring down at her makeshift bandage. "I mean, I've got a date later."

Something crossed his expression that she couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Oh yeah? Who's the unlucky guy?"

"None of your business."

"Fair enough." River leaned back in his chair. "Does Ho know?"

Sasha's face scrunched with disgust. "Ew, you think I'm gonna tell that creep after he stalked me last time?"

"Yeah that was..." River trailed, shaking his head. "That was really bad."

"I'd have reported it to HR if we fucking had one." Sasha picked up her mug of tea. It was boiling hot. Idiot. She set it back down, focus returning to River, his face illuminated by the backlight of his computer screen. "Speaking of creeps, why are you acting so..." She struggled to find the right word. "Pleasant, all of a sudden."

River bit back a smile. "Am I not always pleasant?"

"No, you're usually a bit of a prat."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Jackson Lamb thundered around the corner with all the air and grace of a bear on roller-skates. The stench from earlier was somehow still following him down the hall – or perhaps it had been exacerbated by more flatulence.

As usual, Sasha and River tried not to pay him any mind, attention diverting to their idle PC screens. Sasha wiggled her mouse to look busy.

"Oh, don't stop chatting on my account," Lamb said. "I do enjoy hearing about your failed relationships. Warms my heart."

"Surprised it's still working," Sasha murmured as he strode past their office.

"Won't be for long," River quietly added. "Not if he keeps eating all that takeout."

"I'm sorry, did you two idiots say something?" Lamb hollered down the hall. "Or was it just the voices in my head again?"

Across the desk, River met her eyes with a wicked grin.

And for the first time that day, Sasha laughed.

—

A/N

My favourite idiots 🫶

Welcome to Longshot!! I've been posting this on AO3, but noticed some more Slow Horses content on here recently so thought I'd give it a chance, hope you enjoy!!