Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply. A little interlude between my studies, work and other writing projects.

"I don't think so." Sergeant Havers stood with her hands on her hips and glared defiantly at her boss.

Sometimes DI Tommy Lynley despaired of his partner's stubbornness and at ten o'clock at night he would rather be at home sipping an excellent malt and listening to Wagner than in the office arguing with Barbara. "It's logical. He has to have hidden the money somewhere inside the house after he murdered her! The money's gone, and the police found him inside. He had no time to take it anywhere."

"What if the robbery was earlier?"

"Then why murder the old woman?"

"Some sort of cover up?"

"That makes no sense Barbara."

"Who said murderers have to be logical? It's not as if they go to Murderer's School to be trained in the Lynley Rules of Good Killing."

Tommy's frustration suddenly changed. He began to smirk then a broad smile broke across his face before he began to laugh. "Oh, Barbara!"

"It's not funny."

He could tell she was trying not to laugh with him. "Yes, it is."

"Is not."

Tommy stopped and raised his eyebrows. "Are we about to have an 'is, is not' argument?"

"No!"

"Yes, we were."

"No, we weren't!"

They stared at each other. He was trying hard not to laugh first. Barbara's phone chirped shrilly, breaking the moment.

"Havers!" she snapped. Tommy watched as the colour drained from her face. "Yes, I see. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Barbara?"

"It's my mother. She's had a turn. They've rushed her to St Francis' Hospital. They... they don't think she'll make through the night."

"Oh Barbara, I'm sorry." He put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her gently. It surprised him when she nestled her face into his chest. It felt rather wonderful, and his reaction mortified Lynley. "I'll drive you straight over."

Barbara sat silently beside him until they reached the hospital. At the late hour parking close to the entrance was easy. "Thanks, Sir. I may not be in tomorrow."

"I'll come in with you." Tommy saw her hackles start to rise. "For moral support. Or I could just wait here in case you need me."

Barbara looked him up and down. "Thanks. I'd like that if you don't mind but come in with me. At least wait inside."

She looked vulnerable and afraid. Lynley wanted to comfort her, but he did not know how to do it in a way she would understand. "Whatever you need Barbara."

They were led straight up to the ward. "I have to warn you, Ms Havers - your mother is quite belligerent."

"Mum? No, she's not even lucid most of the time."

"She is tonight."

Barbara frowned and took a deep breath. Tommy searched for comforting words. "You'll be okay. Make your peace if you can." Barbara looked up at him, and he thought he had overstepped the line.

"Would you come in with me?"

"Of course."

In the brightly lit room, a line of blinking monitors measured Mrs Havers vitals. Beside him, Barbara gasped.

"Barbara? Is that you?"

"Yes, Mum." Tommy watched as Barbara moved forward and sat beside the bed. She took her mother's frail hand. Tears threatened to roll down her cheeks. He moved behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. Her muscles were tense but relaxed slightly when he gave them a gentle squeeze.

Her mother looked up. "You're the nice man that was with Barbara years ago."

"He's my partner, Mum."

"Oh, I knew he was the right man for you. He can match your spirit. Are you married? Do you have children?"

Barbara's face darkened. She looked up at Tommy and mouthed 'sorry'. "No Mum, he's my partner at work, not my boyfriend."

"Why not?"

"Mum, please! What happened tonight?"

"You love him, I can tell and look at his face, he feels the same way. Make an old lady happy."

"Mum! Stop it now!" Barbara turned to Tommy. "Sorry Sir, she gets very confused. Maybe you should wait outside."

Tommy nodded. "I'll give you some time with Barbara, Mrs Havers. I'll come back soon." He turned to his partner. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Yeah, thanks," she replied. He noticed she was unable to look at him. He gave her shoulder another squeeze then left the women to talk.

When he returned, they were talking seriously. Barbara seemed upset, but he sensed he should leave them alone. "Won't interrupt. Here's your coffee, Barbara. I have to make some calls, but I'll just be outside if you need me."

Tommy sat on a plastic chair in the small, linoleum-lined waiting area. After checking his email, he sat back and closed his eyes, feeling vaguely uneasy about tonight. He had a feeling Mrs Havers was going to die, and he knew Barbara would go through a rollercoaster of emotions. She would hold it in, be contained and behave far more respectably than he had when Helen had died. He wanted to be there for her, to comfort her and ease her pain but he would not presume to intrude. Everything in his upbringing told him to be supportive but to let Barbara take the lead. Everything in his heart told him he would have to push her to her breaking point to help her.

He stopped spinning his phone between his index fingers and push a short-dial. "Mother, it's Tommy. I hope it's not too late."

"Tommy? What's happened?"

"Nothing. I'm fine. I just wanted to say hello."

"At midnight? Hello couldn't have waited until eight o'clock?"

"I'm sorry Mother. I shouldn't have called. Goodnight."

"Wait! Tommy something's wrong. What is it?"

"I'm at the hospital with Barbara..."

"Something's happened to Barbara? Are you alright son?"

"Yes, I'm fine. It's not Barbara. It's her mother. It doesn't look too hopeful I'm afraid. But it made me think."

"Oh Tommy, that's so sweet." He frowned then realised his mother thought he had been thinking about losing her. In part she was right, but not entirely.

"When Helen died, why didn't you try to stop me self-destructing?"

"Everyone grieves differently. You knew I was here if you wanted to come home or talk to me. But it's not the done thing to presume to know what's best for someone."

"I want to help Barbara. I don't want her to let guilt devour her. It's not healthy. I know that too well."

"Tommy, you know her best. You'll know what to do when the time comes."

"Will I?"

"You two have a connection. Just look inside your heart."

"Thank you, Mother. I should let you get back to bed."

"Goodnight Tommy."

He stood and stretched. Barbara instinctively knew what to say to him. He would have to trust himself that he would know when the time came. He wandered over and peeked through the small window in the door. Mrs Havers was holding forth in a very animated way and although he could not see her face, he knew by the set of her shoulders that Barbara was getting angry. He pushed the door open and searched for his most compelling smile. "I just thought I drop in and see if there's anything you need."

"No, we're fine." Barbara looked tired. It went beyond the tiredness of a late night. She looked almost... defeated. Never before had he wanted to hold and protect someone as much.

"I'll be outside if you need me."

Just as he was about to close the door he heard her mother hiss at Barbara, "perfect manners. Too good for the likes of us. Why would a lord want to play at being a copper? You're right to keep your distance, love. He'll break your heart. You could never be enough for him."

Tommy wanted to argue with her but he saw the agony on Barbara's face. Neither woman thought he had heard and it was probably better not to make a scene. He would talk to Barbara later and reassure her.

Reassure her of what exactly? Why he was a policeman was easy and he had persuasive arguments why he was not too good for Barbara, or more rightly why she was a better person than him in so many ways. What he could not explain, even to himself, was why she was all he needed.

He raked his fingers through his hair. Mrs Havers' earlier words ricocheted around his head - 'you love him, and look at his face, he feels the same way'. Had she seen something between them that they hadn't seen? He enjoyed being with Barbara. She complemented him in so many ways yet always pushed him to extend his comfort zone. Their friendship was unconventional and they disagreed about so many things and yet underneath all the superficial nonsense they understood each other more than anyone else ever would. Is it love?

In away it most certainly was, but until tonight when she rested her face against him, it had never had a physical element. Barbara had just been Barbara. He had hugged her occasionally but he had never thought about it being anything more than affectionate. As he sat and thought about the last decade together, he knew he was lying to himself, even now. He had tried to kiss her once, after their first few cases, when he had started to grow fond of her. Fortunately she had rejected him because then it would have been a mistake. It would have been just another notch on his Met belt.

The more he thought about it, the clearer it was to him that he had been living with his head stuck somewhere decidedly unpleasant. When he had turned up at her flat unexpectedly that night two years ago, he had sat on her chair and watched her face. It was that moment, as she sat in her dowdy dressing gown and listened to his doubts, that he had known she was his soulmate. Afterwards he had tried to dismiss his desire by arguing he just wanted companionship but he knew he would not have said hesitated if she had invited him to her room. How could I pretend it was innocent?

Now as her mother lay dying and she needed him as a friend, he could not trust himself. He wanted to tell her how he felt. But how to you say, 'sorry your mother died but hey, guess what. I just worked out I've been in love with you for years'? Tommy shook his head. He could not, and would not, say anything. Not yet, not until Barbara was ready to hear it.