In his room Number Six watched the shadows Alex and Lucky cast on the wall of the corridor as they talked. What could they possibly have to say to each other? Was Seven talking him up? Down? Was Alex just the latest woman to tilt at Lucky’s windmill?

What would Lucky do in his position? That wasn’t too hard to work out because it had happened more than once. Seven would either fake a heart attack, attack the resuscitation team and then leg it in the chaos or seduce whoever was supposed to be watching him, take their ID, and then walk out the front door wearing stolen scrubs.

Alex and Seven reappeared at the window. Alex must be taking Lucky to the lift. No. Apparently not. Damn him. And he’d gone straight for the boob too. He was whispering in her ear. The usual mix of innuendo and compliments no doubt. And he’d pinned her against the door. More whispering. Oops. That didn’t go down so well.

The slap, when it came, seemed to come out of nowhere. One moment they were kissing enthusiastically and the next Number Seven was rubbing a reddened cheek and Alex was dragging him in the direction of the lift.

Alex stormed back into the room moments later, avoiding Six’s gaze and rubbing her presumably still stinging hand on her leg. She returned to her seat and tried to look him in the eyes and smile her usual chilly smile but she couldn’t keep it up.

'I’m sorry. That was terribly unprofessional of me,' she said.

'Kissing him or slapping him?' said Six.

'Neither is ideal,' she said, 'and I usually prefer to pick one and stick with it. I should just swear off spies completely. You’re bad for me. You bring out my worst qualities. Sorry. I’ll shut up now. You’re not interested in my problems.'

Six lay down half resting on his side and half on his chest. He propped his head up with his hand and said, 'I wouldn’t say I’m not interested. The wonderful thing about your problems is that they’re not my responsibility. They make a relaxing break from my problems.'

Alex smiled but it didn’t seem genuine. Her lips were tight and her eyes sad.

'Tell me about these worst qualities we bring out,' said Six. 'I wasn’t aware you had any negative qualities.'

Alex looked away, unable to meet his gaze. 'The last time we worked together I was too impatient. I should have taken my time and had all the information in hand before we went in. Cutty would never have made that mistake. And when we did go in I was so busy flirting with you, having fun, showing off even, that I completely missed all the signs of a working in progress.'

'What do you mean, in progress?' said Six.

'When we arrived the Magus realised how much trouble he was in and decided to get rid of all the witnesses. You remember when we confronted him there were intricate sigils painted all over the walls and floor?'

'Vaguely. I was a little distracted.'

'Components of a ritual. They were all over the building, not just on the top floor. All the people in his little sex cult had matching tattoos.'

'I remember the tattoos. All the girls had one. At the time you said something about the tattoo being the conduit that triggered the spontaneous combustion of our witness,' said Six.

'That book you found, the one I used, was the source of the spell he used to cook your witness and that wasn’t the only spell in there. The entire top floor was a ritual space primed to deliver a massive spell. We interrupted him before he could finish it.'

'Did you panic? Is that why the overkill? I heard they had to scrape him into evidence bags.'

Alex blanched. 'That wasn’t my overkill. That wasn’t my spell. That’s what he had planned for the fourteen people we had in custody. Because I had the book with me I was able to change the focus of the ritual. If we’d been even a minute later he would have succeeded. If we had stopped to flirt just one more time then what happened to him would have happened to all of them instead.'

Six put his free hand on hers. 'Why didn’t you tell me that at the time?'

'Because I wasn’t thinking straight. A working like that comes with a massive high. Even a minor working can make you feel like you’ve eaten your own bodyweight in sugar and then gone for a jog. But something that big is another thing entirely. It’s like driving a hundred miles an hour while taking every drug you can think of. It took me two days to come down and realise what nearly happened. After you turned me down I had just enough presence of mind to sign myself off work for a few days and go home.'

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Six searched for something helpful to say. He was terrible at stuff like this. He’d never been very good at comforting people and he’d got used to relying on Seven and Two to deal with all that squishy emotional stuff. 'Nobody died, well, except for the Magus and fuck him.'

Alex smiled but it was a fleeting thing. 'It was luck. I nearly got fourteen people killed.'

Six squeezed Alex’s hand, unsure of what he could say to make her feel better. 'Or alternatively, you saved fourteen people from a horrible death at the cost of getting laid. You don’t know that anyone else would have done better.'

'It’s sweet when you try to be nice but it doesn’t really suit you,' said Alex.

'Then let me cheer you up another way,' said Six. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

'That’s more like what I’ve come to expect from you but I shouldn’t. You’re not well,' said Alex.

'I’ll be the judge of that. Give a wounded soldier a helping hand. Just pop off your dress and join me in bed.' He gave her his best winning smile.

'Are all the Blanks smooth talkers like you?' said Alex, but she was smiling back at him.

'Stop taking the piss and get in. You’re supposed to be keeping me entertained and it’s not like you don’t want to.'

'Well, if you’re going to whine about it,' said Alex with an exaggerated eye-roll. She stood up and went to close the modesty curtain over the viewing window.

Six tried to remember his training. He liked sex but for him it was an incidental perk of the job not a major part of his arsenal as it was for One, Two and Seven.

He thought back to the visiting lecturer in seduction technique. He’d been a junior then, still waiting for someone to retire or be retired. Not knowing yet which number might be his. The lecturer had been an old, bald, Scottish guy with a beautifully trimmed beard. Six had been unimpressed until he started speaking. By the end of the lecture there was a queue of people trying to get his number.

But what had the old man actually said? That seduction and sex were different things. Sex is something that two or more people do together. Seduction is something one person does to another. That the seducer must remain in control of themselves at all times even if they were apparently ceding control to someone else. That you had to work out what the target wanted and give it to them as hard as possible while making it look like you were just taking your own pleasure. That the secret was to take pleasure in giving pleasure.

He just had to work out how to put it into practice. He wasn’t much of a seducer but he knew one of the best and on a good day he could be anyone.

He thought back to the night with Number Seven. Lucky had been presented with someone who apparently just wanted to go down on him and he had graciously accepted. But that wasn’t all he had done. He hadn’t just stood there and taken it. The way Lucky had stroked the face of the person he thought was a shy Bulgarian mercenary was one of the most sensual experiences of Six’s life.

And when Six had finished Lucky had helped him to his feet, kissed him passionately and then carried him to the bed. And then spooned him for three hours. Had Lucky actually been in bed with a shy mercenary who was embarrassed by menstruation and enjoyed giving head it would have been the perfect seduction. It had worked pretty well on the shameless human chameleon he was actually in bed with.

Alex slipped out of her shoes and unbuttoned her dress. She dimmed the lights a little and then let the dress fall to the floor. Underneath it she was wearing the kind of underwear that Six had only seen in period films and the very classiest erotica. A black lace bra with matching French knickers, garter belt and stockings.

'Number Seven is fond of telling me that if I ever talk a woman out of her clothes and find that her underwear is a matched set that she decided she’d be undressing for me back when she got dressed,' said Six.

'All my underwear matches,' said Alex. She slipped into the bed, half beside him and half under him.

'Surely not all,' said Six.

'Ok, not the three sports bras or my gym knickers but certainly anything I’d wear to work,' said Alex. Her expression softened as she looked up at him. 'How do you want to do this? I don’t know where to touch you without hurting you.'

'Don’t touch me. Let me touch you. Keep your hands out of the way and there’s nothing to worry about,' he said.

'I promise I’ll be gentle while I’m just lying here and trying not to fall asleep,' she said.

'You,' he kissed her collar bone, 'are,' he kissed her neck, 'so,' then her chin, 'rude,' and her lips. At first her lips were taut as if she were nervous but she relaxed and they softened and parted and his tongue darted between them.

For once in his life he was patient. He lingered on the kiss, letting her shift beneath him till she seemed comfortable. But there was still a tension in her. Her hands twisted and clenched at her side.

Her body was trying to tell him something. He tried to read the signals. Suddenly he knew. She wanted to use her hands. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair and tilt his head just so but she really was worried about hurting him.

He sat back on his knees, took her hands in his and guided them to his face. He showed her where it was safe to touch him and where the edge of the massive bruise on the back of his head was. Alex pulled him back down to kiss her. It felt so much better now that she was steering it.

He slipped his right hand behind her back and unhooked her bra. He remembered how proud he’d been of himself when he first mastered that skill but the memory was choked by sadness because it had been Number Two that taught him. He pushed the thought of her to one side.

He reached under the band of her bra to cup her breast and found something hard. His fingertips brushed the flat, smooth surface and the object responded with a gentle buzz and the unmistakable sound of a phone dialling out.

'What did you do?' said Alex as she snatched for the yPhone.

'Video called someone called Cutty, apparently,' said Six, reading the information on the side of the phone facing him. 'Isn’t that the new Historian of Secrets?'

Alex glared at him, flipped the phone round and set a bland smile upon her face just in time for the call to be answered.