Sasha had fucked up.

Running down Aldersgate street at half eight in the morning, still wearing last nights clothes and heels, was not an ideal start to the day.

Stupidly, she had forgotten to set an alarm. And her date hadn't woken her up the way they usually do in the movies. He hadn't brought her breakfast in bed; no pancakes with fresh blueberries or a glass of orange juice. Instead, he had shaken her shoulder at around eight and awkwardly said, "Uh, yeah, so I gotta leave for work in, like, five minutes."

Sasha had been forced to make a plan. It was a risky one, but maybe the only choice she had. Slough House was miles closer than her flat. She had some spare clothes in the draws of her desk, an old pair of trainers too. If she could creep in, sneak past the downstairs office and up the stairs, the only people who might spot her would be Louisa (not the end of the world) and River (worse, but he'd get over it.)

The success of the plan mainly hinged on one person – Lamb. He was almost never early, so Sasha was relatively confident that, even several minutes late, she would get there first.

Just before quarter to nine, she unlocked the back door and wrenched it open – doing so quietly was not humanly possible. The door was ridiculously heavy, always jammed and needed to be shoved to shut properly. The metal clanged and made a racket that practically announced her arrival to the whole street. So much for stealthy.

Barely seconds later Jackson Lamb bellowed, "Standish?! That you?!"

Sasha stopped dead. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

It was rotten luck, really.

She debated slamming her head in the door.

Although it was early, the London humidity was thick and heavy. It was the beginning of summer, and temperatures were steadily climbing. Slough House, however, was particularly stuffy. Then again, the run to get there probably hadn't helped. There was a sweaty sheen to Sasha's skin. Her dress material clung tighter. And the curls on the nape of her neck were damp. She scraped her hair into a medium ponytail, slipped off her heels – oh sweet relief – and tiptoed past the downstairs office.

God forbid Ho caught her in a low cut red dress, he'd be having wet dreams for weeks.

Unfortunately, an eagle-eyed Shirley spotted her feeble attempt to slink past. She nudged Marcus, who took one look at her and burst out laughing.

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Cheers, Longridge."

Roddy leaned back in his desk chair to see what all the fuss was about. Mouth dropping open, he almost fell out of said chair trying to catch a better view.

"Get shagged last night, Hartley?" Shirley asked, descending into childish giggles.

"Fuck off."

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, Sasha tuned out their mocking laughter. She stared up ahead in apprehension and realised that, essentially, she was screwed; Lamb and the others would be upstairs waiting for her arrival.

Sasha had no choice but to accept her fate.

She decided to deflect any embarrassment by acting unbothered. Nobody had to know her inner monologue was the opposite.

Her shoes hit the ground with a clap. She slipped her feet inside and took the wooden steps one at a time, click of her heels echoing in the stairwell.

Reaching the top, she took a breath to mentally prepare. This could be disastrous.

Sasha rolled her shoulders back, chin raised self-assuredly, and stepped inside her shared office with a smile.

Lamb's expression, blank as ever, gave nothing away. Beside him, Louisa failed to hide a smirk. Meanwhile, River's eyes significantly widened because, holy shit, he rarely saw Sasha in anything beyond casual clothes, and she was already unreasonably beautiful. But this was something else entirely.

With a theatrical sigh, she slung her black clutch bag over the chair. "Fuck me it's hot up here. Sorry I'm late."

Yes, River thought, it was getting hotter since she'd walked in.

"Walk of shame, is it?" Lamb asked bluntly.

Sasha blinked, taken aback by his forthrightness. "Uh, there's no shame," she dismissed. "Going home with somebody after a date is normal. And whilst I may be late, and slightly hungover, I'm not ashamed."

"Wasn't insinuating anything, just using the term," Lamb responded. "But thanks for clarifying you got laid. I'm sure we're all very happy for you."

Sasha's face flushed. "So, uh, what'd I miss?"

"Well, um–" River hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nothing much."

Louisa elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow. I mean, Catherine hasn't turned up, we think she might be missing–"

"Hold up. Catherine's missing?"

"Yes, which is what we were just, um, talking about, not sure how I forgot that, but, uh–"

Lamb looked at him incredulously. "Cartwright, are you having a stroke?"

River's eyes narrowed. "Actually, I happened to stumble over my words. It's very common." He caught Sasha's gaze – fuck – and then his eyes drifted further down – nope, stop – oh, that goddamn dress! River couldn't concentrate, and words kept tumbling from his stupid mouth. "I'm not sure why– I mean it's– I haven't had any coffee yet and–"

Louisa pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sorry, what the fuck is happening right now?"

"Right, I'm bored of this," Lamb interrupted. River had never been so grateful for somebody to shut him up in his life. "You–" He pointed at Louisa. "Go and see if Standish went to her AA meeting. And you–" He motioned to Sasha. "Get changed before Cartwright has an aneurysm."

River had to forcibly stop his jaw from dropping. Called out, by his own boss. Unbelievable. Then again, did he expect anything less? Probably not. But he could feel his skin prickling in embarrassment. Sasha must despise him. Christ, he despised himself. Like, yes, she was attractive, she made him laugh more than anybody else, he always looked forward to seeing her...and admittedly sometimes his mind drifted to her more often than it probably should, but that didn't mean anything!

She was also his colleague, so he needed to get a fucking grip rather than lose his mind (and dignity) over seeing her in a very nice, albeit very tight, red dress.

Louisa stepped away from the wall and purposely eyed him with a taunting expression.

River scowled. "I'm not–" He tried to defend, looking towards Sasha for help. River wasn't sure why he bothered, since she simply raised her eyebrows and mouthed perv. "I wasn't–"

"Now!" Lamb bellowed.

They scattered. Sasha unintentionally brushed past River to reach her desk, and desperately wished she could have heard his inner monologue afterwards. She wasn't completely oblivious. Sasha had felt his stares before, fleeting moments where he thought she wasn't looking. She'd seen the way his eyes would sometimes catch hers in a crowded room. It was nice, she supposed. But it didn't mean anything.

River watched her – probably for longer than he should – until she bent down to reach her lower desk draw. At which point, he realised he definitely should not still be looking, especially when Louisa snapped two fingers in front of his face. River whirled around, focusing his attention on her instead. "Hm?"

"I'm leaving for Catherine's AA meeting," Louisa repeated.

"Want me to come with you?" River asked.

"No thanks. I don't need babysitting."

River sighed exasperatedly. "Didn't mean that like that either."

Sasha had bundled a change of clothes and wash bag into her arms. She walked behind the pair, accidentally bumping into River as he turned back around in the doorway. "Sorry."

"Sorry."

River could hardly look at her. He caught sight of Lamb stomping past, took the opportunity of a distraction, and chased after him. "What– what do you think happened to Standish?" He asked, worried, naturally, but also a little guilty.

"Maybe she fell off the wagon, or ran away to start a donkey sanctuary," Lamb suggested unhelpfully. "All I know is she's not here."

Sasha paused to listen outside the door. It was certainly odd. Catherine was always on time, if not early. And any reason for being late, she would have called, or put something on the wall chart in advance. An unsettled feeling gnawed inside Sasha – although that could've been her body still trying to digest last night's alcohol intake.

She needed to get dressed before offering any help, so she headed into the shabby, cramped bathroom. Sasha shut the door loudly and yanked across the stiff, rusted lock. She peeled off the red dress; it had served its purpose well, and she'd certainly be wearing it again; on another date, or maybe even a work night out, just to watch River struggle.

Sasha liked receiving some level of attention from men. Well, one's her age and who weren't misogynistic creeps. But, for some reason, she had an extra special kick out of getting to River. Did he like her? Surely not. She was just hot.

Emerging five minutes later, and looking far more work appropriate in black straight-leg jeans and a white adidas t-shirt, she followed the sound of Lamb's booming voice to the downstairs office.

"Check the hospital," she heard him order. "See if Standish has been admitted."

Sasha plonked down the steps, moving much easier in the comfy, white trainers she'd shoved on. River was stood just outside the office, hands pressed either side of the frame, blocking the open doorway. He was wearing an awful shirt; the deep, forest green colour suited him, but the corduroy material was...not it.

"What do you want me to do?" River asked.

With a sigh, Lamb faced him, then deadpanned, "Quit."

River scoffed. "No, seriously."

"No, seriously, I want you to quit. You're shit at this. But failing that, get these files sorted. This place is a fucking mess." Lamb barged past him, barely squeezing through the narrow space. He stalked back through the corridor, completely ignoring Sasha lingering on the bottom step.

She hopped down, arms folded. "Jesus, Cartwright. What did you do this time?"

River ran a hand over his face. "I am so fucking stupid."

"I know, but why?"

Hand sifting through his blonde hair – he'd grown it out a little recently, strands swooping over his forehead, it looked nice – River began to explain, "When I left Catherine yesterday, there was this guy walking behind her. And, in hindsight, I'm thinking he might have been following her."

"Dude."

"I know, but I didn't think anything of it because it's Catherine. Why would anyone be after her?"

Sasha sighed. Forgoing the urge to both berate and ridicule him for being an idiot, she focused on the task at hand. Standish was missing and they needed to find her. "Where was this?"

"Just down the street."

"All right, show me."

River didn't need to be told twice. He had to make it up to Catherine in whatever way possible. He spared a glance behind him (double checking Lamb hadn't materialised again) before leading the way to the exit. He wrenched open the back door and held it open for Sasha to pass through. She did, and trundled steadily down the metal staircase, arms wrapping across her body as a shield from the alley draft.

"How was, um, how was your date last night?" He asked, not meaning for it to come out so awkwardly – especially because he already kind of knew the answer, given her walk of not-shame earlier.

"It was fine," she responded vaguely.

"Where'd you go?" River questioned, jogging a few paces to catch up with her.

"Clove Club," Sasha answered. "Then a bar. And then to his."

River nodded. "Cool." For fucks sake. Cool? "Think you'll be seeing each other again?"

"No idea. So where was it you last saw Catherine?"

"Uh..." River trailed, slowing as he took in their surroundings. "Just..." He came to a stop. Realising he had trailed off, Sasha glanced back over her shoulder, noticing that he was now stationary. He reached for her arm and lightly prompted her to his spot. She turned around, faced him. The gap between them closed significantly. River offered her a weak smile. "Right here."

"Thanks for being so...specific," she said sarcastically. Sasha craned her neck, looking up at the building beside them. River realised what she was searching for, and spotted it himself. Security camera. "Better go inside then."

The pub was empty. The owner was reluctant to let them, stressing they were closed, busy preparing for the lunchtime rush. But Sasha had flashed her sleek MI5 badge – a perk of still being a registered agent (nobody had to know it was Slough House). And the man, who was silver haired, with a full beard, and looked to be in his late fifties, begrudgingly led them to the back room.

For twenty minutes, Sasha sat on a foam, blue desk chair, in front of an old PC, continuously clicking the mouse as she trawled through yesterday's CCTV tape.

River leaned over her shoulder, hand resting on the desk for support. Sasha wasn't proud of it, but she had cast more than one sideways glance at his surprisingly toned arm muscles.

"There." River eventually tapped the screen. "That's me."

"Really? Could've sworn it was your ugly twin," Sasha shot back.

"Ha, funny."

"So where's this guy?" Sasha asked, zooming in on the screen. Standish was just out of shot, only a flash of grey hair in the picture.

"He should be coming up in a couple seconds...there."

Sasha paused the tape. The picture was grainy, and the man, clearly walking at speed, had kept his head relatively low, almost entirely evading the CCTV. It wasn't much to go off, but at least they had something.

Slowly, she scrolled through each frame. "So we're looking at a male, mid to late thirties maybe?" Sasha described. "Is this definitely the guy you saw?"

"Hundred percent."

They printed a few screen captures, thanked the pub owner, and headed back to Slough House.

Whilst River took an unexpected phone call upstairs, Sasha smacked the photographs on Roddy's desk. "Need an ID on this male."

He eyed her up and down with a sly grin. "What's the magic word?"

Sasha didn't have the time, or the patience. "Just do it you daft prick."

Roddy had no response for that.

Thundering down the stairs, River practically crashed into the wall. "Sasha!"

For the love of God, she had barely left him alone for two minutes. Sasha stepped into the corridor. "What? What's wrong?"

River hardly stopped for breath. "Standish– she's been kidnapped. The phone call I– I gotta go–"

"What are you–" Sasha cut off. "Hang on, what do you mea–" But he was already halfway out the door. "River, where are you going?! River?!"

"Don't follow me!"

"What the fuck?!"

"I'm serious!"

"River!"

The back door slammed shut. Sasha stared after him in disbelief. What the fuck? She slid her phone from her pocket and dialled his number. It rang twice, then cut off completely. He'd turned it off. Son of a bitch.

She headed back into the office. "What the hell just happened?"

"Think you got rejected, babes." Roddy swivelled round in his chair with a smirk. "Now, if you focused your attentions on the Rodster inst–"

Sasha snatched the CCTV photograph and whacked him on the back of the head with it. "Get me that ID." She went to leave, then hesitated in the doorway. "Hey, can someone be tracked with their phone off?"

"Nope."

"No you can't do it? Or no you can't be bothered?"

Roddy shrugged. "Second one."

"Twat."