Author's note: As always the characters belong to Elizabeth George and the BBC.

In the twelve months since she had moved to Maidstone to take up a Detective Inspector position Barbara Havers had not returned to London. The job was more varied but she missed the pace of the city. There were less murders and violence in the sleepier countryside of Kent but she had been kept busy getting to know her team and learning about the local area and the realities of rural crime. This trip was unavoidable and while she was in the city she planned to list her flat for sale. Barbara did not intend to return to London again and for the price she would receive for her modest one-bedroom property she would have enough to buy a small but comfortable house close to the Kent Constabulary Headquarters.

When Winston had invited her to dinner her first instinct had been to decline but it was not his fault that she still felt vulnerable. He was finally Sergeant Nkata and seemed to be happy now that he was not working directly for Lynley whose own promotion to Chief Inspector had come within a month of her leaving. It gave her little satisfaction to know Tommy had avoided it to stay working with her all those years. Their final parting had been painful and sad. She would not admit to anyone that she had cried for three hours afterwards and if she thought too much about it now for cry for another three. Still, it had been her choice to leave and it was for the best. Now she simply had to avoid accidentally bumping in to him and she would be fine.

In the last few months he had ceased to be her first thought of a morning or her last thought at night. If it had been love she had felt all those years then she knew she no longer felt it the same way, if at all. The intensity had gone to be replaced by historic, sentimental warmth. She could barely remember the electric thrill when he had touched her, even briefly, and when she closed her eyes she no longer had a firm image of him, it was more of a shadowy awareness. She still missed their camaraderie terribly and had sometimes wondered if perhaps now, with the distance of space and time, they could be friends. Barbara understood however that it would never work as she would fall straight back to old habits and pine forlornly for a man who would never be in love with her. She had started to casually date David, a local accountant who was the brother of her landlady, as a way to move on. It was not serious yet but she was a least able to see that it might be if she could stop comparing everything that he did with what she imagined Lynley would do.

She looked at her watch as she left the court building. She would not have time to go back to her hotel and change before meeting Winston so her best blue trouser suit and white shirt it would have to be. She only hoped she did not spill anything. They had planned to meet well away from the Met office. She had not said directly but she thought Winston understood that she did not want to risk seeing any of the old team. They were rendezvousing in a gastro pub off New Fetter Lane that was close to the courts but definitely not a policeman's haunt. As she neared the corner she paused and considered abandoning the dinner and ringing through an excuse. It did not seem like a good idea to spend any time looking backwards; she should focus on her new life in Kent. She crossed the road away from the pub but a voice deep in her head stopped her. She turned and with a deep breath walked back. Curiosity triumphed over her fear. If she faced her past she would be stronger and Winston had been a good friend. She peered through the chequered panes of the oak doors looking for him but he did not seem to be waiting so pushed the right hand door open and walked inside. The pub was modern but with timber dados and furniture to lend it a 'ye olde' pub ambience. Black vinyl clad stools clustered beneath the oak bar, straining under the weight of fat barristers and grovelling interns. It was bustling with the perpetual motion and bluster of besuited legal pretenders but it lacked the gritty reality of a real London pub. Winston had said to meet him upstairs so she threaded her way past the noisy, crowded bar and climbed the creaking timber stairs covered in a runner of blue carpet frayed at the edge of the treads. She studied with distaste the myriad watercolours of disproportionate faded ducks and swans that festooned the walls of the stairwell.

She dodged around some drunken lawyers who had moved their stools away from the upstairs bar to roost precariously close to the stairs. She was searching around for Winston's mop of dreadlocks and almost walked past him. "Barbara!" Tommy? Her heart stopped beating as her ears processed and rechecked the sound.

She turned to see Tommy staring at her clearly as astounded to see her as she was to find him there amongst the drunken defenders of failed humanity. Her stomach dropped and her heart started to pound furiously against her ribs. She wanted to turn and run. A big, mesmerising grin broke across his face. It was a smile he had given her so often that for a split second she had forgotten about Kent and about everything from the last year. It was just like meeting him after work for pint like they had in the old days. Her reverie was broken by the simultaneous beeping of their phones. She pulled hers from her pocket and saw the text from Winston 'Sorry but you both need to talk'. She glanced at Lynley and could tell from his frown that his message was the same.

She would never forgive Winston regardless of his undoubtedly good intentions. She looked around for him knowing he was somewhere watching and had seen them find each other. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him he did not understand how she felt and how hard it had been for her when Tommy had started dating again only a few months after returning to work following Helen's tragic death. She knew then, as now, that she had no claim over Tommy and that he was only following her advice to start living again but at the time it had felt like a betrayal. She was the one that had stuck by him, been accused of overstepping the line from, what was his phrase, 'caring friend to intrusive pest'? Yet she had been the one he called when he had been in trouble. She was the one he always called on. At the time his lapse of judgement had been easier to overlook but when he consciously started dating a string of well-bred, attractive but vacuous women it was too much. She had to get out and find herself a real life.

"Hi Sir," she said stiffly, "I'm sorry it looks like Winston set us up. I'll be off then."

"Barbara wait!" Tommy stood and looked as if he would come after her anyway. "Maybe we should talk."

The longer she stood there and the more he spoke the harder it was for her. She knew it would end badly. It would either rekindle her feelings or they would argue. She could not bear either. "Nah, there's nothing to say is there? We should just leave the past where it is Sir."

"I need to know why."

She shook her head then turned and walked away. How could she tell him that being in love with him had changed from a joy to a burden that she could no longer bear? She knew he had not understood why she had not told him she was leaving until the Friday of the week before she had to report to Kent. She had not told him she had passed her exams while he had been on compassionate leave and she had not approached him about promotion, instead going directly to Hillier. She had not wanted to hurt him but she had known that it would. She just needed to get out before she let him destroy her.

"Why did you leave me Barbara?" It was the plaintive question of a scared and frightened little boy. The mistake she made was turning back towards his voice. She saw his expression, the same loss and confusion he had when she told him she had accepted the promotion to Kent. It was the same face he had worn as they sat together on the hill after Helen's funeral. She retraced her steps to the table and sat down.

"It was time to move on," she said trying to keep the sadness out of her voice, "we had run our course."

"I would have supported your promotion at the Met; you didn't have to go to Kent."

"Yes, I did," she said, "it wasn't just about the job." Tommy looked down at the table but did not reply. "So how have you been?" she asked, trying to change the subject before either of them said something awkward.

"I tried to ring you," he said not answering her question.

"I know, I got the voicemails," she said, "but I never seemed to get you when I returned them." Perhaps if she had dialled his mobile instead of the main station number at a time she knew he would not be there she would have connected but of course she had not wanted to talk to him. She had returned the calls so he could not accuse her of impoliteness but actually talking to him was too dangerous.

"No, so it seemed." His voice was tinged with a bitterness that, although not unreasonable, cut to her core. She was struggling not to reach out to him in some way. She was right back where she had been a year ago and she hated herself for it.

"Anyway, how is crime fighting in London these days?" Again she tried to divert him and keep the conversation light.

"Boring."

"Do you like being DCI?"

"It's fine. It's a job but I might retire to Cornwall soon. Mother has been unwell and," he paused and looked her straight in the eye, "I don't seem to have anything to get up for every morning any more."

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. That had been pointed and hurtful. This conversation was going the same way that their last one had gone. It was futile and only served to drag up a lot of ill will. He wanted her to always be there for him but he was not prepared to be there, really be there, for her. "I hope it works out for you," she said as evenly as she could, "I really should be going. It's been a long day. Remember me to your mother." She stood and started to push back her chair but Tommy reached up and put his hand on her arm. Even through her jacket the jolt of excitement she had always felt raced up her arm and set her heart racing. She sank back down into the chair and watched the relief on his face.

"How are you enjoying Kent?" He now seemed to be diverting her.

They talked work for about half an hour, comparing cases and victims and their teams. It was a safe topic and felt comfortably familiar. In one way she did not want it to stop but on the other hand it was eating away at her resolve and turning her life on its head. She had already decided to tell David that they had no future. He did not compare to Tommy in any way and she would never love him. She was doomed to a life of loneliness and unrequited longing.

"So are you seeing anyone?" The question stunned her. Since when did he think she was worth someone dating her? He had always mocked her attempts to meet someone.

"Yeah, sort of," she replied awkwardly.

Tommy looked shocked. "Is it serious?"

"No," she said. Certainly not after tonight! "What about you? Have you settled on anyone yet?" It sounded acrid leaving her mouth and she could see from his expression that he was shocked by her tone.

"No. I stopped seeing people after you left," he said, "none of them were…" He paused and seemed reluctant to finish his sentence.

"Helen," she said sympathetically, "I understand. I'm sorry." She was remorseful that she had not supported him more at the time. Of course he would have needed to date a few women to find someone special.

"I wasn't going to say Helen." He looked at her strangely and she struggled to understand his meaning. "None of them were what I need in a womanly what I realised I wanted."

The old empathetic Barbara, best friend of a brilliant but broken man, was instantly back trying to comfort and encourage him. "That doesn't mean the right woman isn't out there. You should keep looking Sir."

"I had what I wanted and I lost it." His eyes were so intense as he looked into hers that she flinched. His answer surprised her. She knew he had loved Helen but she thought he had believed it had been a mistake marrying her. Perhaps with time he had appreciated what they had together. Barbara felt sorry for him and reached out and quickly squeezed his forearm.

"I'd better be going Sir. It was good to see you," she said genuinely. It had not been as bad as she thought but she knew it had set her back months in trying to get over him. At least she had settled the idea of whether they could ever be friends, it would never work.

"So early? What about dinner?" He looked disappointed.

"Nah, thanks but this place is not my scene. My hotel is close by. I'll order some chips or something."

"I'll walk you back," he said, "maybe we could share the chips."

"I don't want to be rude but I'd prefer if we just left it here eh?"

He looked defeated and resigned to his fate. "Let me at least walk you to your hotel."

She hesitated then nodded. "Ta." What harm could it do?

They walked slowly and silently to the sliding glass doors of the hotel. Barbara was slightly sad that she did not have anything meaningful to tell the man who had been so much a part of her life for so long. "Thanks." It was all she could think to say.

"My pleasure."

Silence hung awkwardly between them just as it had done the last time they parted. At least this time he was not angry. She remembered that night clearly. She had extended her hand to shake his and he had turned his back. She had stormed out cursing him under her breath. As she reached out her hand this time she hoped he would return the gesture. He did, then as their hands locked he pulled her to him and kissed her softly on her right cheek. She knew she was blushing. It was a much better parting and she somehow managed to kiss his cheek in return before he pulled away. Their hands were still locked and it was just a fraction too long for a normal handshake. She looked in his eyes and saw them reflect her own sadness. If they were different people she would probably invite him to her room but they were not those people. They were Lynley and Havers who had once been partners.

"Goodbye Sir."

"Goodbye Barbara."

She tried to smile and he smiled back, not his broad grin but a tight, sad acknowledgement that he knew he would never see her again. She made her body turn and walk towards the lifts. She pushed the button and waited unsure how long she could hold back her tears. The lift arrived mercifully quickly and before she stepped in she looked back at the door. Tommy was still there, staring at her. She sighed and stepped inside the steel and glass box, back into her new life.