Rating: Thoroughly PG.
Summary: Adelle finally gets that beachside bar she was dreaming about in 'A Spy For Love', but there are some unforeseen complications.
Notes: For morgan72uk, prompted by our comment conversation. Title taken from Blondie's 'The Tide is High'. Unashamedly fluffy crack!fic.
The air crackled with tension. He loomed over her, icy blue eyes flashing.
“It’s dangerous, Adelle!” he growled.
She snorted. “You say that about everything.”
“And in quite a few of those cases, I was right.”
“Believe me, I find your concern for my welfare more than endearing. But, in this case, it’s entirely unnecessary.”
He didn’t respond, so she snuggled up closer to him on the couch. “Please, Laurence?” she murmured close against his mouth. Her fingers toyed with the hem of his t-shirt, and he gripped her wrist as her hand threatened to travel lower.
“Do you really think this kind of manipulation is going to work?”
With a roll of his eyes, he conceded her point.
“Tell me why we can’t let her stay.”
“Because she has rabies!”
The underfed mongrel at their feet looked up at them with a guilty expression. Admittedly she wasn’t actually foaming at the mouth. Then again, neither had Caroline at first.
“You have no conclusive proof of that, and as a scientist, I say we wait until – "
“She goes on a killing spree?”
“She’s a puppy, not a serial killer!”
“Now she’s a puppy. In a year’s time she’ll be a fully-grown dog who bites people. Then what? You can’t just put her in the Attic and write the victim’s family a very large cheque.”
Adelle stroked the dog’s head, looking unconvinced. “Speaking of the Attic, remind me why I didn’t leave you there when I had the chance?”
“Because you were secretly desperately in love with me?”
Laurence wasn’t entirely sure if the noise that followed was a bark of laughter or just a bark, and he decided that his life these days was too precious to make it worth asking. He looked at the woman who was once considered the most terrifying woman in Los Angeles. She was talking nonsense in a happy, sing-song voice she she fed the mutt bits of left-over steak. Until they'd come here, he'd never seen Adelle smile before. Or at least, not the kind of smile that meant pure, unadulterated joy as opposed to the grim pleasure that came with torturing someone who truly deserved it. Even when he'd staggered into what was left of her office after Dr Saunders gave him the all-clear and told him that brooding stubbornness worked better on fictional heroes than real life, all Adelle had done was tense up until he told her that he wasn't going to kill her. Sure, there had been kissing and then sex and then post-sex discussion of tactics and the current make-up of her security detail, but then they had to save the world and there hadn't been time for trivial things like happiness until they were driving down a dusty highway in Argentina and he realised he had no idea where she was taking him.
"Paradise," she'd said. She'd been right.
Somehow, the puppy had managed to get wedged between the two of them. Clearly, it had no sense of subtlety.
“OK, fine,” he sighed. “But only if we can call her Echo.”