Author's usual notes and disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters nor the original Inspector Lynley Mysteries – they belong to Elizabeth George and the BBC. I have borrowed the characters from the TV-Show and solely own the ideas of my stories and the developments I've let them go through.

Please write a PM if I did something terribly wrong. Thanks!

Please read and review! More thanks!

Author's note and summary: The Met has multiple cases. One of them brings two detectives into strange situations in a hotel room. It's just work. It all comes along with the case. Seriously.

.

Operation Hotel Room

.

She came back from the Ladies and it was some kind of entrance she performed. Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers had earned a few appreciative whistles from her colleagues when she showed up at the office in some very tight jeans, very high-heeled shoes and a blouse that beautifully revealed that she indeed was a woman. Her hair was waving without any pins in it that used to keep it in a tight (but messy) ponytail.

"Shut up, you drooling idiots!" she barked but grinned nonetheless. She was very glad that it was a cold January evening so she had not had to show up in less cloth than this.

Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley already waited for her in his office. It was ten o'clock in the night now. Together with Super Intendent Hillier he had waited for his sergeant because he and Barbara were supposed to play decoy in their actual case. They were the only two colleagues who agreed on that play and the only two that really matched anyway. In fact Havers was the only woman in the team that matched the victims and Lynley had insisted on staying with her.

They were supposed to check in at the spotted hotel, not a very expensive one, and play a couple. She as the pro and he as the punter. If all went as it was supposed the suspect would wait in the lounge for some people like them to enter - which was highly likely at a Saturday like today. The two detectives just had to wait in the hotel room until he appeared there, as a room-service man or maybe even with a key, they did not know yet. They had to let him try to kidnap her and then the previously checked in colleagues would support them to arrest him. The hotel staff could not be informed because it still was not clear if they did not work together with the kidnapper.

It was a nasty thing, this case. The pros had been kidnapped in London, brought to Yorkshire and raped and killed there or brought further to Italy. Their punters only had been poisoned and robbed and left somewhere. They all could not remember very much due to the drugs they had been given.

This had to stop.

Now that Barbara entered Lynley's office in those tight fitting clothes he had to swallow. Her figure was tempting and he actually never would have thought that she ever would show such a female side of her. She looked sexy. Even Hillier nodded with a smile and told her that she looked extraordinary good. Barbara thought that she looked slutty.

"You should not wear such things too often for work, Sergeant. You'd keep my men distracted." Hillier said.

"Oh, well, yes." Lynley agreed too quickly. He suddenly wanted to rake his hands through her reddish hair and blushed a bit so he tried to busy himself with some papers in front of him. Barbara was not sure if he really had said 'well' or if it actually had been a 'hell' and inwardly chuckled.

"Okay, since it's late and I really can't say that this is my idea of a funny Saturday evening, may I have a shot of your good stuff, Sir?" Barbara asked her DI who immediately poured three glasses. He could use a sip of it too.

They cheered and agreed upon the last aspects of this operation.

They did not drive up in Lynley's Bristol but in an equally expensive but less noticeable modern silver sportscar from the police car pool. Lynley arrogantly tossed the keys at the car boy and snaked his arm around Barbara's waist. He made it look possessive. He felt possessive. The smutty grin from the car boy made him feel protective towards Barbara as well.

And he felt entirely good to pull her close to him without any social restrictions.

"Show time!" he hoarsely whispered in her ear and gave her a little kiss behind it.

Despite the sudden real excitement that rippled through her body Barbara faked an exuberant laugh and together they stumbled across the carpet to the entrance. With raised eyebrows the doorman let them pass.

At the check-in counter, when they waited for the night porter, Lynley buried his face in her hair and whispered that this was fun and that he enjoyed it very much. It had the wanted effect that Barbara blushed. Pulling her close to him also had the wanted effect that his jacket opened and revealed the holster with the big gun he had to wear. On the one hand as a defense and on the other hand to appear a bit like a bad boy. Lynley had not wanted it but Hillier insisted.

With serious expression Lynley now asked if the hotel had an empty room for them. Actually they had. The porter blessed them with another pair of raised eyebrows when Lynley revealed that they had no luggage and they just want that room, please, but he did not question it.

All the time Barbara clung to him and pretended to play to idolise him. In fact she took advantage of the fact that she could study his profile without restriction, could shamelessly adore the dark hair that tended to fall in his face, flagrantly could tickle his chin with her index finger when he had put on his reading glasses to read and fill in the form given to him at the reception. She found him entirely sexy when he put them on. She found him entirely attractive anyway.

Lynley grinned and shot a side glance at her. Barbara genuinely blushed and forced herself to perform a silly giggle.

They signed in under wrong names of course, grabbed the key and then Lynley playfully shooed her into the direction of the lift. Once inside their play did not stop. Lynley pulled her close into his chest and swayed with his hips pressed onto hers when he silently told her against her neck that the lift was monitored so they only could stop in their room. Though she momentarily stopped breathing Barbara somehow felt good in his arms. She savoured every moment of that probably short enjoyment. It may not be serious on his part but for Barbara the sensation was real. She slightly shivered when he spoke to her, his breath tickling her neck.

"You smell good, Barbara!" he placed a real little kiss onto her skin.

"Thank you, Sir, your aftershave is not bad either." she mumbled.

"Oh, no, I mean... ah, never mind..." She would not understand that he suddenly had very inappropriate thoughts about her, him and what they could do in the hotel room. He did not understand where those thoughts had come from either but he was glad that he could at least embrace her and pretend to play tenderness.

Barbara closed her eyes and let her head fall back. This was killing her. She was afraid that she might eat him alive once they were in the room. Though the situation probably would change there immediately. She knew he was just playing.

And after all they had a case to solve.

Arriving on the 9th floor the lift pinged and opened its door. The obviously very aroused couple nearly fell into the corridor and swayed across the carpets until they reached 903.

Out of the blue Lynley pushed Barbara against the door, whispered "Sorry!" and pressed his lips onto hers. Unintentionally she put her arms around his neck and answered his not totally faked kiss.

Out of breath after the encounter - without tongue, like Barbara sadly noticed - they stared for a few seconds at each other in disbelief. Had he actually kissed her? Had she actually answered the kiss? Are his eyes smiling? Is there a genuine desire in her big green eyes? Will he do it again? Would she like to repeat it?

But then they quickly entered the room and closed the door behind them. All this was becoming far too dangerous.

"That was ... umm... sorry. But I thought it would fit." Lynley almost expected a smack in the face but it did not come. Without further looking at him Barbara went straight to the mini bar and got herself a can of gin and tonic. Then she turned her back at Lynley and tried to calm down looking out of the window and at the skyline of London. This kiss, as short and un-juicy as it had been, somehow had stirred up her turmoil again. Something she thought she had buried deep enough to never see it at the surface again - sexual desire in general and the futile love for her DI in particular. She took a big sip of the cold beverage. She should focus on the case and not on Tommy.

Tommy got himself one of those little bottles of cheap whiskys and downed it in one gulp. This woman was a challenge. A miracle. A treat. A gift. A preciously raw jewel. In sexy tight jeans and a blouse that revealed a desirably soft cleavage. Tommy swallowed. She still had not called him by his given name but had avoided direct adressing all the way from the car into this room. And that kiss in the door... He still wondered how he had had the guts to do that. But she had answered his kiss. Well, he was too cautious so there was no tongue, but he still had the feeling of her invitingly open lips on his. She really had answered his kiss. He knew she would not have objected because they had had to appear as a couple, but she could have cut it off earlier. But no, she had answered his kiss. Was it possible? Did she mirror his feeling?

"Look!" his low voice was right next to her ear. Suddenly he was right behind her. Without touching. Which made it even more difficult for her to stay concentrated. His nose was in her hair and he could smell her perfume again. She did not use it very often and if she did then it was very sparingly. It was heady.

Barbara concentrated on the goosepimples that ran down her spine. Though he could not see that her eyes were closed he did not look out of the window either when he whispered something irrelevant about which London buildings could be seen from this view point.

His hands found their way onto her hips on their own. Barbara felt them burning through the cloth of her jeans. His chest touched her back when he stepped just an inch forward. Tommy felt her leaning into him and his heart skipped a beat. Her right hand lifted itself and pulled at his nape so his face was buried into the crook of her neck.

"We should stop." he whispered without acting on it. His lips brushed the skin on her neck.

"M-hm." Barbara murmured without really having recognised what he had said. She only felt his lips hovering across her chin and cheek.

"We're on duty." his breath tickled the corner of her mouth.

" ...don't care." she breathed and turned her head completely so he could kiss her properly.

Their breaths were flowing warm across the sensitive skin of their lips when they paused a couple of millimetres away.

"Go! Go! Go!" The door slammed open and four armed police officers stormed into the room.

Lynley was drawn back from Barbara and pushed against the wall, legs apart, hands forced into his nape. In no time his weapon was confiscated, in less time his hands were cuffed. One man searched through his pockets.

Things went equally bad for Barbara. Rough gloved hands frisked her where seconds ago Tommy's gentle fingers had caressed her. She also found her wrists fettered in seconds, rudely turned, her shoulders almost put out of joint.

"Ouch!" she cried.

"Dry up, dolly!" was the answer.

"He! Be gentle!" Lynley demanded and was pushed into the wall, face pressed against it, the barrel of a gun stinging him between his shoulders.

"You'll stay quiet!" the squad man barked.

Frustrated Lynley moaned into the tapestry. "Could you please-"

"Shut up. Ladies first. All right, dolly bird, would you be so kind and tell us your name. Your real name please."

"Havers. Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers. Sir." She emphasised the last word.

The men laughed. "Oh, great, and I'm the Prince of Wales. Sergeant." Two colleagues laughed.

"Sir?" the head of the squad was adressed by the youngest of the four. "You have to-"

"Not now. Alright, 'detective', do you have your 'badge' with you?" He made quotation marks into the air.

Lynley dumped his head against the wall.

"Of course not. He has. This over there is DI Lynley and we're on an undercover investigation. I expect our back up colleagues in seconds." Then she thought that their sign had been a following man. If nobody followed their security won't show up. Ah, bloody hell, they had made some mistake, or so it seemed.

"Sir!" the young officer said again. "She's telling the truth, Sir!"

"What?" The head of the squad examined Lynley's warrant card the young one held under his nose. Roughly he turned the DI to study his face and matched it with the picture.

(I won't write the nasty curse he bellowed.)

The two detectives were freed from their hand cuffs. In that moment their back up team entered the room, followed by another man in plain clothes. It was DI Carson from the vice squad. They briefed each other. While Lynley and his team had tried to arrest the human-traficking gang Carson and his team were after a gang of prostitutes who robbed and blackmailed their punters. Lynley matched the only and very blurred picture of the pander and the night porter of this hotel was on the inside. When he had seen them approaching he called Carson straight after the couple had vanished in the lift.

They now all expected that the two cases belonged together because all was centering in this hotel. The noise and uproar they had made tonight probably had stopped it and the gangs would move elsewhere.

Even Lynley now cursed like a fish monger. Barbara chuckled. "Sorry, Sir." she added quickly and averted his glare.

They withdrew their teams and drove back to the Met to have a debriefing and a crisis meeting. It became a very long night.

She moaned and stretched again. She had a real pain in her shoulders, coming from the rude treatment in the hotel room. Before the debriefing had started Barbara had put on one of her usual baggy jumpers over her blouse and changed into some comfortable sneakers. Tommy almost was sad about it but knew that she should not distract him... and also not the other men more than necessary. At about 1 am they finally turned off the lights and closed the door of the meeting room.

"Can I offer you a lift home, Barbara?" he asked and put his hands into the pockets of his jacket. She still looked too tempting but he could not touch her anymore now. He should not, now that the operation was over, but he wanted to.

"Sure. Just fetch my bag." Barbara did not want to talk more. She did not want to be brought home either, especially not by Lynley, the danger itself, but she could not actually tell him that she was afraid of the ride home. She was afraid of the proximity to him because she could not tell anymore what had been pretence and what had been real in that room before the squad team had interrupted them. In fact she wanted to repeat every single touch and caress with Tommy in real.

Without a word they went to his car and left the car park in his Bristol.

After a few minutes Tommy spoke first.

"Let me show you a really wonderful hotel with an even better view across the city, Barbara."

"What?!"

"Let me gift you with a relaxed night in a luxury hotel. A massage, a glass of the wine you've tasted once at Howenstow - you remember?" Barbara nodded and he went on. "...a huge soft bed. And I arrange with your guv that you could sleep in tomorrow morning. What about that?"

Barbara was not sure what she should make of this. "Are you asking me to spend the night with you?"

"Actually no, I just..." He paused and thought. Yes, this was what he had asked her, though he had not known it until she had said it aloud. "Well..."

Barbara blushed. She had asked an odd thing and now the whole situation was embarrassing. He would not spend the night with her. Ridiculous to even think about that, stupid to have asked.

She decided to keep silent and forget about it. She just wanted to be at home now. Alone with her pity, away from the embarassment. She had brought it all on herself.

At the next junction Tommy turned left. This was not the way to her flat. This was not the way to his house either. They drove on in silence until they reached the Crown Hotel's driveway where he stopped without getting out. He turned to Barbara.

"Actually yes, Barbara. I'm asking you to spend the night with me. I want to continue where we've been so rudely interrupted. I want you to relax. I want your damaged shoulders to be treated well. I offer you a night that you won't forget. First you get a massage at the Spa, then you get the glass of wine, then you get the soft bed. And if you wish and allow it, please let me take part in your night." He took a deep breath before he continued. "I love you."

He looked at her, waiting for an answer. Now it was her turn.

She had winced when he said those three words. Then she stared out of the front window. After two long minutes thinking about what had happened today, about what he had said, about what she truly was feeling for him, Barbara angled for her bag on the backseat and opened her door. She grinned and nodded. "M-hm!"

She climbed out of the car. "Get your bottom movin', Sir. The wine's getting warm." With her bag casually thrown over her shoulder she already was halfway at the entrance when Tommy finally shifted into gear.

He grinned at her swaying hips, at her still tempting bottom cheeks still clad in this tight fitting jeans, then he jumped out of the car and followed her. The keys were quickly tossed at the car boy who greeted him by his title. "Take good care of it, Andrew. One scratch and I'll tell your mother." Catching up with his beloved sergeant Tommy laughed while he snaked his arm around her waist. One day she'll know that thing with wine temperatures.

"I love you!" he whispered in her ear and gave her a little kiss behind it.

.

.