Their suggestions range wildly from the Unicorn Bistro – a firm no because you’re terrified of the fucking things after a book you read by Ben Aaronovitch to the Ice Bar, a hovel that’s both overpriced and overrated.

“Your apartment building has a rooftop garden, I’m sure the view is incredible.” Raines says and it gets Wes’s brain going because you are criminally low maintenance compared to what he’s used to. He realises he’s been thinking too big, too grand. You enjoy meaningful gestures, not money thrown at you.

“We can get some fairy lights, set up a make shift bar, order from that place she likes on the corner.” He says as he begins to outline a plan.

“She’s an 80s baby right?” Amanda says as she picks up her phone, scrolling through it. “We can use a carefully collated 90s playlist for a little nostalgia.”

“Yes.” Wes says clapping his hands together. “I like the way this is coming together.”

It’s a few weeks later that Wes lures you onto the rooftop with the promise of a cigar, it’s something the two of you used to do after you worked a case together. It had started in Riyadh when you’d taken down a global human trafficking network. Saudi Arabia’s a dry country which means you can’t have a drink to celebrate so Wes had rustled up the next best thing.

“Christ, I can’t remember the last time I had a Montecristo.” You say, his fingers laced with yours as he leads you up the stairs to the rooftop. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about since-

That’s when the cheer goes up and you’re surprised by your nearest and dearest appearing to wish you happy birthday. The way your face lights up when you lay eyes on your parents for the first time in a year, it makes all of that hard work worthwhile.

Your evening becomes a whirlwind of catching up and merriment and Wes, he likes to fade into the background sometimes, to watch. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you as happy as you are tonight, your hair tumbling over your shoulders as you throw your head back and laugh at something your father said. It makes his heart thud harder in his chest because you deserve this for putting the light back in his life, you deserve the best that life has to offer.

“I never did get that Montecristo.” You say as orange starts to bleed into the darkness. The parties wound down and there’s just the two of you left on the roof, watching the sun rise in the distance.

Wes withdraws the cigar from his pocket and you shake your head as you slip into his lap, your thighs settling on either side of his hips.

“After.” You murmur, your nose trailing along his until your lips are barely parted. “I need to thank you for flying my parents out.”

“Oh.” He says in understanding, tucking the cigar back into his pocket before he kisses you. “After it is.”

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