Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply. This story plonked itself into the centre of my brain's writing space and refused to budge until it was written.
BARBARA
Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers slipped on the wet pavement and fell. Her boss's hand grabbed her jacket and wrenched her to her feet. Her legs started running immediately. A bullet ricocheted off a post box. She ducked. It was so close she could feel the air rush past her face before she heard the telltale high pitched whine.
The only cover was still twenty yards ahead. A low brick wall separated the car park from the footpath. Her world narrowed. Nothing mattered except reaching that wall. She felt her hand tugged forward as Tommy grabbed it. She ran as fast as she could and fell and over the two foot of old brick and pressed herself against it.
"You okay?" Tommy asked.
She was panting so hard she could not answer, so she just nodded.
"I'm getting too old for this," he grumbled.
She nodded again. "Me too."
A small piece of brick broke off and sliced open the skin above her eye. Williams, the suspected murderer of the headmaster of Withcompton Grammar, was still firing shots at the wall and yelling abuse. Tommy moved closer as if shielding her. He reached up and touched her forehead.
"Ouch."
"Sorry. It's not too bad, but it might need a couple of stitches."
The shooting had stopped, but that barely registered as Barbara accepted his handkerchief and pressed it against the cut. "Well, it's not as if I had looks to lose."
"Don't say that. You're... argh!"
Barbara tried to understand what had hurt Tommy. She tilted her head. Williams was behind him and had hit him with something she could not quite see. From his shallow, rapid breathing she could tell he was in pain. Williams lifted his arms and began to swing. Tommy rolled on top of Barbara, forcing air from her lungs. The wall pressed against her hip and a rock dug into her back. She tried to push her boss off when his body shook violently.
"Sir?" Her voice was muffled by a mouthful of cashmere overcoat as his weight collapsed into her. She reached around his torso. A sharp sting clarified her thoughts. She could feel blood oozing from around the blade of the knife. Was it hers or Tommy's?
His head fell back against her shoulder, his face next to hers. "Sir!"
The ground shook. A loud crack broke the silence. Feet were running, people were screaming. In the background sirens ee-ored. Lights flashed orange, red and blue.
"Helen?..." His voice sounded as if he was speaking underwater. Barbara frantically pressed her hand around the knife blade. She fought her instinct to pull it out, knowing that victims of serious knife wounds usually bled to death if the blade was removed. "Hang on, Sir."
"Will you marry me?" His mouth was against her ear.
Barbara closed her eyes and swallowed. His voice was seductively soft. He was delirious and talking to Helen. Unwanted tears leaked from her eyes. "Sir, help is coming. Hang on. Please hang on."
"Marry me."
His voice was so faint Barbara feared the worst. "Don't die. I couldn't bear to be without you."
His response was half-laugh, half-cry of pain. "Then... marry...me."
Barbara knew Tommy needed to hear it. How could she deny him a final moment of happiness? "Yes. I love you, Tommy."
It was the truth, even if he thought she was Helen. Finally saying it was almost a relief.
"I... love you... too." With a long contented sigh, Tommy's head rolled away from her ear. The full weight of his body crushed her. Barbara's heart broke, and she began to sob uncontrollably.
TOMMY
Today was not turning out the way Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley had imagined. For two days they had investigated the suspicious death of the headmaster of the prestigious Withcompton Grammar School on the outskirts of London. It was clear that he had been murdered, and the primary suspect was Williams, a former Head Boy at the school whose mother was having an affair with the headmaster. His plan was simple - arrest Williams and return to Scotland Yard for questioning.
They did not know that Williams was psychopathic until his mother allowed them to inspect his room. Havers found a cache of weapons inside a secret compartment under his bed along with graphic magazines depicting torture and sexual violence. Barbara phoned for a SOCO team while he began questioning the mother. He looked up when his sergeant walked into the room. It was then that the window shattered. Mrs Williams collapsed forward onto the floor, a pool of blood spreading on the grey carpet in front of her head.
"Run!" he ordered.
Barbara was ahead of him yelling into her phone as they ran out of the rear door. The house backed onto open paddocks. The only dividing line was a well-worn dirt path that led back towards the school. As they ran, large plops of rain began to fall.
"Today just gets better and better."
"Sir, just run."
Tommy had been utilising the Met's gym a lot more lately and was grateful that he had regained some of his fitness. Barbara was surprisingly fit in these situations and, despite being in her heavy jacket, out-sprinted him.
Uncertain if Williams was pursuing them Tommy glanced around. Williams had a hunting rifle pointed straight at him. Lynley zagged left, and a fragment of wood from a signpost hit him above his ear. "He's firing at us," he yelled.
"No kidding."
Dirt kicked up around his feet. Tommy smiled even though if felt inappropriate. "I wish I was."
They turned the corner where the path swung around behind the old stone church into the main street. The flat Georgian style cottages lining the road offered little protection. His eyes darted wildly as he looked for cover. "Over there," he called, "behind that wall."
Both detectives ran straight for the car park about fifty yards ahead. Barbara slipped on a thin sheen of oil that had been freed from the asphalt by the rain. Still running, Tommy grabbed her jacket and yanked her to her feet. He took her hand as bullets continued to fly around them. He pushed Barbara over the wall then dived, tearing his trousers on the rough concrete.
He pushed Barbara closer against the wall. "You okay?"
She nodded, but he saw the fear in her eyes. Having been shot once before, Barbara was wary of firearms. "I'm getting too old for this," he quipped, hoping to lessen her anxiety.
She nodded again, her breathing now more even. "Me too."
Bullets peppered the low wall. Tommy hoped that back up would arrive quickly. Once Williams realised they had no weapons he would have no hesitation in shooting them. Profanity poured from Williams between bursts of gunfire. Tommy was vaguely amused that some were even in Latin.
The shots were only a few yards away now. A shard of brick flew from the top of the wall cutting Barbara's face. Blood began to trickle over her eye and down the side of her nose. Tommy wriggled closer, wedging her tighter against the wall. He was not going to allow her to be hurt. He gently wiped the wound with a clean handkerchief he kept in his jacket pocket.
"Ouch."
"Sorry. It's not too bad, but it might need a couple of stitches."
Barbara grabbed the handkerchief and held it against her forehead partially hiding her eyes. "Well, it's not as if I had looks to lose."
Tommy smiled softly. She had no idea how attractive she was. "Don't say that. You're..." pain ripped through his abdomen. "Argh!"
Instinctively, he moved his body to shield Barbara. He looked up straight into the eyes of Williams. Initially, there was no mercy; no recognition that Tommy was even human. He was barely nineteen but looked much older. His eyes were haunted by demons far beyond the experience of most people. Tommy recognised his suffering, and for a single moment when Williams held the knife high, he knew the lad had seen it in him too. Tommy stared at him. Williams nodded. There was an unspoken agreement that Barbara would be spared. Lynley continued to watch Williams as the killer rammed the knife into his chest.
"Sir?" Barbara sounded panicked.
Tommy wanted to reassure her, but his energy centred on the pain that spread in waves from the right side of his chest. Breathing was difficult and excruciating. All he could do was move his head back closer to hers.
"Sir!"
The satisfaction on Williams' face was replaced by solace as a bullet shattered his temple. As if in slow motion, fragments of white and red flew out in a cone pattern back towards the direction of the shot. On the other side, a huge, hair-covered piece of skull broke away. It flew a few feet before shattering into hundreds of fragments that fell in an arc as Williams's body slowly rotated almost ninety degrees before tumbling onto the concrete at Tommy's feet. The thud reverberated through Barbara and made the knife shudder in his wound just as the sound of the shot reached his ears.
Tommy struggled to keep his eyes open. Shadows of people moved across his vision. Sirens wailed in the background. He blinked. "Helen?"
"Hello, Tommy."
"Am I... dead?"
"No."
"Why are you here? I'm sorry. I should have known that Nina..."
Helen held up her hand. "It's okay, Tommy. I found peace. You need to too."
"I can't."
"Still the tortured adolescent blaming everyone else I see. Wake up to yourself, Tommy. Only you are in charge of your happiness. You love her. Tell her. Marry her. She will never love anyone else. If you can't bear the thought that you might be happy, at least give Barbara the chance to be, and one day you will wake up and realise that you are also happy."
Helen waved and disappeared.
Tommy took as deep a breath as his injury would allow. Helen was right. And if he did not make it, he wanted Barbara to know he had loved her. "Will you marry me?"
"Sir, help is coming. Hang on." Her voice cracked and shivered. "Please hang on." Tommy could hear her fear and desperation.
"Marry me," he said again. This time it was more of a plea than a request.
"Don't die. I couldn't bear to be without you."
Tears ran down his face. "Then... marry... me." Speaking was becoming harder.
"Yes. I love you, Tommy." He heard the honesty and relief in her voice.
"I... love you... too..." Tommy let out a long sigh. Helen had been right. He was happy. It was a new sensation but one he hoped never left him. He closed his eyes. At last, he was at peace.
Afternote: I could leave this story here, and it would be perfectly self-contained. However, my original idea is in the next chapter(s), so it will continue.