This is a one-post vignette, a sort of missing moment, just after "In the Presence of the Enemy." Barbara is in hospital and a visit helps her deal with what has happened and her attitude towards it.

The novel of course, is the work of Elizabeth George, and the characters are hers as well.

Hope you enjoy!

You're not exactly like other women, are you?

Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers tried desperately to shut out the
voice, and to still the mind that had been racing nonstop since that
night. Circling round and round, especially in the stillness, when she
was sick of the television, and when there was quiet in the midst of
the expected hospital routines.
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. She couldn't erase the last two
weeks though, just as she couldn't stop his words, replaying in her head over and
over.
What I mean is, you're rather special, aren't you?
Her throat hurt and her eyes burned. How easily she
had been taken in. That was the worst part. The fact that the Robin
Payne who said he cared for her, who had kissed her so passionately
wasn't real didn't sting as much as the fact that she had believed he was. The fact that she had wanted to believe, so badly.

So badly that she had forgotten how it was she'd resolved to live her life. She had forgotten the most obvious truth of all, which all of her experience had shown her.

The last word that would ever apply to you is desirable.

Folly to ever, even for a moment, be convinced otherwise. And it was a folly that she wanted to bury, desperately. She saw Lynley's gentle brown eyes regarding her with their usual compassion. She heard Winston Nkata's soft "How're you holding up, Sarge?" She wondered how much they had guessed. The thought made her want to never face them-or anyone- again. The doctor had jovially assured her just a while ago that she'd be able to leave quite soon. You're healing quite nicely. That lung concerns us so that's why I'm keeping you for just a few more days, but after that.

Quite. Yes. After that. After that, she would have no choice but to go on. Face down humiliation, and her inadequacy, her mistake.

Stop it. Get a grip. It's this sodding place, that's all. What's needed is work again – distraction, to keep the mind away from –

"Ms. Havers?"

She turned her head to see the nurse - a young woman with pleasant features. Barbara couldn't see her name tag.

"Just popped in to see if you're awake. You've a visitor, do you feel up –"

She said, "Yeah, sure. Thanks." to cover her confusion. She was not exactly the kind of person to inspire a crowd of well wishers beating down the door, after all. Lynley and Helen had been in that morning, along with Simon and Deborah. A few of her Yard colleagues the day before. But other than that, Barbara couldn't guess who it might be. Wincing, she shifted up. She looked over to the door - hers was the bed closest - and saw standing a woman standing there. She was tall and slender, her hair light blonde, almost white, and her eyes cornflower blue. In her hands were a potted plant and a piece of paper. She looked naggingly familiar to Barbara, though she couldn't have placed her visitor. The woman looked uncertain. She cleared her throat.

"Sergeant Havers?"
Barbara nodded.

"I'm sorry for coming unannounced, I should have phoned, at least. Things have been-"

Her voice caught. She took a breath and began again.

"And we weren't sure how long you'd be here."

She met Barbara's eyes.

"I am sorry." She came closer, put down the paper on Barbara's bedside tray, and extended her hand.

"We haven't yet met, have we? I'm Fiona Luxford."

Barbara didn't quite know what to say, couldn't begin to guess why this woman had come. Fiona mercifully spoke first, indicating the plant, actually a bunch of tulips of different colours.

"I – I know it isn't nearly enough, not for what –But they do bring cheer, I hope. And they can be transplanted later outside, they'll bloom again."

She bit her lip, as if she felt the need to stem the flow of her words. She took up the paper from where she had left it, extended to Barbara.

"My son insisted on sending you a picture" she explained

It was of a cardinal, brilliant red against the tree he perched on, lush green with summer. The sky was clear blue. She wouldn't have believed that an eight-year old had drawn it, except for the childish, if neat, printing on the bottom

To Sergeant Havers,

Get well soon, from Leo

"Perhaps it does come closer than anything to saying what the three of us feel. Thank you seems so inadequate-"

Barbara was stunned. Those were words she had least expected to hear, not after how she had handled this case. She tried to smile.

"I just – it's my job." She was tempted to add A job which I didn't do very well in the end, did I? I put your child in jeopardy.

She didn't. She couldn't. Fiona met her eyes, and Barbara could see how easily the woman sized her up.

The room began to close in.

Fiona sat on the chair by the bed, put her hand over Barbara's, and softly said:

"Inspector Lynley told us what happened. And I don't think for a minute that most police officers would have clued in so quickly to what he planned-"

She paused, gathered herself again, and continued on.

"And so few people would have had the courage to face him alone. But you did, and because you did, Leo is safe, with his whole life before him. I wanted to make sure to tell you that we know that. To tell you how grateful we are."

Barbara swallowed hard.

"Thank you. That means a lot."

Fiona smiled, and then rose.

"I wish I didn't have to leave so soon, but school's almost over, and I –

Barbara understood.

"I wouldn't want you to be late on my account. Thank you again."

Fiona picked up her handbag and wordlessly crossed the floor to the entrance. Framed in the door, she turned to face Barbara again.

"If you like, I could come again before you're released, and stay a little longer. I could bring Leo, and Dennis, I'm sure they both want to."

"That'd be nice." Barbara was surprised to find she meant it.

Then Fiona was gone.

She leaned back against the pillows.

The tears began then, and she couldn't hold them back this time. Strangely enough, her feelings no longer plagued her quite so badly. For the first time since she'd been brought to the hospital, she looked forward, and found there reassurance. Maybe, just maybe, she'd be all right.