Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply. As promised this is my M-rated Christmas treat. Appetiser now, satisfaction on Boxing Day ;)
"You have reached the voicemail of... DS Havers... please leave a message after the tone."
The newly promoted Detective Chief Inspector Thomas Lynley shook his head and smiled. Barbara refused to leave a personal message on her phone, and her abrupt 'DS Havers' always sounded incongruous within the polite standard message.
"Hi, Barbara. I just rang to... wish you Merry Christmas. I had hoped to catch you, but by the time I got up to your floor, you had left. Winston said you are rostered off from tonight. If you're in town, call me. Perhaps we can meet up for a drink. And I promise I won't try to recruit you to my team, although I wish you would change your mind about that one. Call me."
Tommy rang off then poured himself a generous finger of his finest single malt. It had been one of those days. None of his new squad had been issued with common sense, and it made his job three times harder than it needed to be. He missed having his crotchety sergeant beside him. He pulled off his tie and sank into the soft, well-worn leather of his Chesterfield wing chair. He sniffed his whisky before he took the first sip, then closed his eyes as it's fiery tendrils reached down his throat to scorch his tonsils. In the background, he was vaguely aware of his doorbell. He ignored it. It rang again. He was not in the mood for company.
He was about to pour another drink when it occurred to him that it might be Barbara at his door. He raced to open it. A yellow FedEx van was just pulling out from the kerb. He glanced down to see a parcel. The wind was biting. Snow was predicted for Christmas Day, but the way the leaden sky had been earlier, he expected it might arrive overnight. He bent down and picked up the satchel. It was heavy and rectangular. He could not remember ordering a book. He hurried back inside.
Tommy poured his second drink before opening the bag. It contained a book which was rising rapidly up the bestseller list. Everywhere he went there were billboards advertising it. He vaguely recalled that it was a debut novel and there was something mysterious about the author. He opened the cover and read the blurb. The novel was about a female spy and her male partner. Filled with fast-paced adventure and incredibly raunchy unresolved sexual tension, this book will keep you turning the pages until the end, and then you will still want more. He snorted. Whoever sent it knew very little about him or his taste in books. He looked on the label to find a sender's name. There was none. There was no card either. He frowned. That seemed odd. He flipped through the opening pages and noticed something handwritten. He turned the pages slowly until he found it.
Tommy,
I know this is not a book you would normally read, but I hope you enjoy it.
Merry Christmas,
Barbara
He could well imagine that Barbara would enjoy a lightweight romantic spy thriller, but it puzzled him why she would send it to him. She even acknowledged that it was not his style. He frowned again. She never did anything without a reason. She wanted him to read it.
"Bloody hell!"
He had not noticed it at first, but now wondered how he could have missed it. She had finally addressed him as Tommy. He glanced over at the photo of them on his mantle and smiled. "Did you send me this just to break that barrier, or is there a deeper message in here?"
Tommy rang her number again. He hoped that this time she would answer. His disappointment at hearing the start of the voicemail message squeezed his stomach painfully. "Hi, Barbara. Me again. I just rang to thank you for my present. It was delivered a few minutes ago. I have just finished a novel, so will start it tonight. Let's catch up for drinks or better still dinner. And before Christmas. Or after if that works better. I am not going to Cornwall this year so I am available any time. Thanks again."
He screwed his face up as he rang off. He knew he had sounded a tad desperate. In truth he was. He missed her more than he had imagined possible. It still hurt that she had refused to move with him. He suspected she blamed him for breaking up their cosy partnership. The image of Barbara staring accusingly at him when he had told her of Hillier's ultimatum to move up or move out was seared into his memory. He had mistakenly believed she would never leave him. He had assumed she would grumble but happily follow him. Tommy had even hoped she would finally push for promotion herself. But he had misjudged her. She had snorted and turned on her heels and left the office. In the week before he relocated two floors up to lead the Major Incident Team, she had barely answered in more than monosyllables. He had lost his best friend and, if he was truthful, his reason for living.
Now she had sent him a message. An apology? If she had just wanted to break the ice by calling him by name, she could have posted a card. He picked up the book and his decanter and headed for his bedroom.
Barbara had been sitting in her lounge when Tommy had rung. She had deliberately not answered but she had listened immediately to his voicemails. The carpet looked worn where she had paced the room. Sending him the novel was a huge gamble. There were scenes in there that would make a sailor blush. She wondered what he would think. On second thoughts, she did not want to know.
Tommy had to admit that the book was easy to read. By the third chapter, he was emotionally invested in the two lead characters and their case. Bernadette was a sassy, no-nonsense spy who came from a solidly middle-class background. Her mother, a successful barrister, and her late father, a paediatrician, had taught her to thrive in any environment. In contrast, Tobias was a man who survived on his intelligence and wit. Born in the slums of Sheffield, he had been destined for a life skirting between pubs, drug dens and Her Majesty's finest bluestone. Driven by revenge for the murder of his little sister at the hands of terrorists, he had sat the entrance exam for MI5 and surprised everybody except himself by becoming a leading counter-intelligence analyst. Teamed with Bernadette on their first case together sparks were flying.
The action moved quickly. People were murdered, unknown and seemingly unaligned terrorists were trying to blackmail the Mayor of Birmingham, and Tobias was falling hopelessly in lust, and probably love, with Bernadette. So far the author had given no clue as to whether his female agent returned the feelings.
Tommy looked at his clock. It was almost nine o'clock, but it was far too early to sleep. He would read for another hour. It was only four pages into the next chapter before he almost spat his whisky across his bedsheets.
Wet and dirty from wading though Falkirk Marsh, Bernadette stood in her bathroom and began to strip off her clothes. She ran her hands up her body from her thighs to her breasts. She cupped them and felt their weight. Despite being nearly forty, they were still full and firm. She stepped into the shower and let the hot water run down her body. Mud mingled with sweat pooled near her feet as the torrent of water struggled to escape down the old drains.
"Boss?"
"Tobias? I'm in here."
Through the steamed up screen, Bernadette could see a dark silhouette in the bathroom doorway.
"Oh! Sorry. I'll wait in here. I just came to tell you... it can wait."
"No, stay. What did you learn?"
"Um... the security guard has a record back in Ireland. Possible links to the IRA. Oh..."
Bernadette pressed her bum against the glass. She smiled when she heard Tobias moan softly. She turned and rubbed away the condensation just low enough for him to get a decent glimpse of cleavage. "You were saying...? IRA?"
Tobias' eyes never left her breasts. She knew he could see nothing but shadows and his face was a contortion of frustration and if she picked it correctly, desire. She lifted one breast and quickly pressed it against the glass before retreating into the stream of water. Tobias was staring at the circle of clear she had created which was slowly re-fogging.
"He was from Belfast," he said absentmindedly.
She shut off the tap and cracked open the door. "Would you pass me my towel?"
Tobias stood with his arm outstretched. When she took the towel he retreated to the other room. Bernadette sighed. He was not going to press his case it seemed. Pity. He had a great body and she had become rather fond of him. She wrapped the towel around her and wandered out after him.
"Go on..."
Tommy put down the book. The scene reminded him of Cambridge when he had showered while talking to Barbara. Is that why she wanted him to read this? Had she felt uncomfortable? He had not teased her, not deliberately at least. It seemed perfectly natural to him to be naked in front of Barbara. But that was wrong. She was his partner. His friend. Theirs was not a physical relationship.
"Shit."
For the first time, Tommy recognised that he had wanted it to be more than just friendship for a lot longer than he had realised. In recent months he knew he was attracted to his sergeant. Reading this passage he knew he had been like Bernadette. He had been looking for a sign. He had assumed Barbara was just embarrassed, and when she had foisted him onto Helen, he had taken the hint, but what if she had been interested but too shy to let on?
Tommy decided to finish the book. He wondered if there were other messages for him. About fifty pages further on, his eyes widened.
Unable to sleep, Bernadette paced her bedroom. She glanced guiltily at the Vodka on her bedside table. It called to her like a Siren. "What the hell?"
She did not bother to pour a glass. She would fool nobody by doing that. She unscrewed the cap and slurped loudly from the bottle. This was all Tobias' fault. He had started dating a selection of entirely unsuitable women. Bernadette told herself that she was not jealous, but it felt as if ten thousand rats were gnawing at her gut, each chomping in time. To-bi-as! To-bi-as!
She lay on her bed and thought about him. She had watched him yesterday at the gym. His shirt had been taut across his strong and deliciously hairy chest. Sweat had dripped from his face as he lifted almost twice his bodyweight. He exuded a scent that was the mixture of a wild animal and freshly sawn pine. Bernadette imagined him over her. She could almost feel the heat of his body. She would pull him closer and trace his chin with the very tip of her tongue.
It was not long before she stood and with eyes closed, stripped off her clothes as she fantasised that it was Tobias' hands roaming her body. Back on the edge of the bed, she spread her feet on the floor and imagined running her hands through his hair as his tongue explored her. Bernadette reached over and opened her drawer. It was a poor substitute, but tonight she would let her dildo help satisfy her.
Tommy wanted to stop reading, but he could not put it down. As Bernadette slowly brought herself to a climax, Tommy was imagining it was Barbara. He wondered if she ever employed artificial lovers. He thought about what it would be like to watch and learn what turned her on. He glanced down at his rock hard cock that was straining to escape his trunks before closing his eyes. He had always had a sly fantasy about Barbara lying on his desk and him using a vibrator to bring her undone, plunging into her as she came. It had popped into his mind several times in recent months. He had tried to ignore it...
Tommy threw back his head and groaned. The pressure was unbearable. He slipped off his trunks hoping that with more freedom he could avoid soiling himself. He had no idea why this book was affecting him, but it was disquieting.
Tommy read on. Several pages later, Tobias was angry with his partner.
Tobias slunk back to his room. Bernadette had made a show of dancing with her boss at the Christmas party. Flaunting herself was how he would have phrased it. In her low cut black dress and her bright red lipstick and matching shoes, he had been tempted to arrest her for soliciting. He pulled of his tie, then his shirt and threw them on the floor. He tried hard to ignore the image of his lithe boss in that dress.
He slipped out of his trousers and left them where they fell. His socks and jocks followed. He lay on his bed and shut his eyes. Instead of blackness, there was a beautiful woman in a black dress. He imagined unzipping it as he kissed her neck. He could almost feel her skin beneath his fingers as he slowly peeled the dress off her shoulders.
Unconsciously, Tobias began to stroke his cock as he pictured his lips running along her shoulder blade...
In his mind, Tommy was slowly removing the black dress Barbara had worn to his engagement party. Barbara's back was soft and creamy and goosebumps raised under his lips as he moved them down her bare spine.
Tommy groaned loudly. Like Tobias, he was pleasuring himself. Disgusted, he stopped. But he didn't want to stop. Not this time. He let the book fall onto the bed as he closed his eyes and pictured Barbara naked. He imagined being behind her as he let her dress fall to the ground. His hands undid her bra and pulled it away from her body. He was nudging his cock between the cheek of her bum while his hands explored her front. Full, round breasts filled his hands while he nibbled on her neck. In his fantasy, Barbara leant slightly forward and shuffled her feet apart. Tommy reached down and torn at her lacy briefs. They parted easily in his hands as she encouraged him. He pushed his cock through her slippery folds and as she bent forward even more, he slid straight into her gloriously tight pussy. His hand moved down through her thick mass of pubic curls. His finger slid over her surprisingly hot and hard clit. He thought about his finger rubbing over it and around it until she squealed with joy, and her muscles clamped him tight, drawing him deeper into her.
It did not take more than two imaginary thrusts for Tommy to groan loudly. His hand flew up and down his shaft. "Oh, Barbara!" he cried as he came hard and copiously.
He fell back against his pillow and sighed. This was wrong. So very, very wrong.
Tommy cleaned himself up and changed his sheet. He was still revolted by his action, but he had trouble ridding his mind of the image of Barbara bending over in front of him. "You can just calm down," he told his cock as it twitched and started to rise. How could a book about two other people have this effect on him? He never watched porn, and other erotic passages had never aroused him. He wandered naked down to his study and retrieved another bottle of single malt. He did not want to get drunk, but he needed to escape from his fantasies.
Tommy woke just before four o'clock. He knew he was not going to sleep again. With a heavy sigh, he turned on his light and opened the book. He hoped there would be more crime and less explicit sexuality. The case twisted and turned, just as a real one did. Tobias had a temper and at a critical point, he lost it. Bernadette had covered for him, but there was an ominous undercurrent. Tommy thought of the times he had been in a similar circumstance. Barbara had always protected him, even lied for him. He had thought that was part of their special bond, but the author had assigned Bernadette and Tobias similar traits. He felt cheated. He wanted his relationship with Barbara to be special.
He read on. Worried about him, Bernadette turned up on Tobias' doorstep late one night. Tommy read with growing unease their circumlocutious conversation about what they meant to each other as partners. Tommy wanted to scream at one or other of them to admit their love. Neither did, and Tobias let Bernadette leave with nothing more personal than a smile. Tommy threw the book on the bed. The night he had turned up at Barbara's flat he had almost said the words he still did not believe could be true. He loved her, that was easy to admit, but he was in love with her too. Even now, that seemed wrong. Yet the thought of it was perfect. Even without his fantasies, he wished she was here now so that he could just snuggle down in her arms.
There were only a handful of pages left. He read them quickly. They solved their case, foiled the terror plot and were about to be assigned their next investigation. But their personal feelings remained unresolved. In the final scene, they both drifted home alone, and it was obvious that they both wished it could be different.
Tommy looked at his clock. It was just past half five. He got up, shaved and took a long shower.
Barbara had slept fitfully. She had known Tommy would read the book. She had wanted him too, but now she was frightened of the outcome. It was almost six o'clock, and there was no use pretending she was going to get any more sleep. She decided to shower and dress.
Tommy sat in his car outside her flat for ten minutes considering what to do. Was it rude to knock on someone's door at six in the morning and tell them that you loved them? Maybe it was not rude, but it was unlikely to engender the response he craved.
Just after six, he noticed the light in her lounge go on. At least he would not be waking her. He stopped prevaricating and marched to her door. After a deep breath, he knocked.
