Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply. This idea was originally going to be part of Mid Life Crisis but I preferred the version I wrote with just our two main characters and thought with some tweaking this might stand alone. Be warned Stuart is drunk and so his usual discretion has disappeared behind very blunt and crude home truths.

"We're a fine lot sitting here in misery," Stuart Lafferty roared across the table, trying to be heard above the raucous din of the pub's entertainment. "Who the flaming hell has a rockabilly punk band on a Friday night? Can't you arrest them or something?"

The most junior officer replied first. "It's not against the law to torture people in a pub if they come in willingly but is that noise even a genre?" Nkata asked as the thrashing guitars imitated the chords of Appalachian banjos.

"I like it Winston," Barbara retorted, "it's got rhythm and a sense of fun."

Tommy Lynley grinned at his sergeant. "It's correct term is psychobilly Havers," he said knowledgeably, "it's a fusion of rock, three chord punk and sped-up rockabilly elements. Songs are usually about a horror theme, especially zombies."

The others stared at him open-mouthed. "Played a lot in Belgravia is it Sir?" she asked cheekily.

Tommy smiled smugly and did not mention the blurb on the flyers that littered each table advertising The Undead Remoras. "What about we adjourn to the Shakespeare Arms?"

The quartet made a hasty escape past the stage and out the door. The Arms was much quieter and they took their pints to a booth near the back. "So, who has anything interesting happening next week?" Stuart asked as he guzzled his pint.

"Nah, not for me unless someone murders their aunt with a toothpick," Winston said sadly, "there hasn't been a good murder in weeks."

"Is there ever a good murder Constable?," Tommy said in his best Inspector voice. "We are here to help victims find justice. Even boring murderers who are easy to catch deserve the force of the law. People are not murdered for our intellectual entertainment."

"No Sir, sorry. It's just that we're all bored and we'd rather be busy."

"Then I shall find you more paperwork tomorrow to stave off your ennui." Tommy felt a twinge of cruel satisfaction when Winston grimaced. He was also concerned that Stuart had gone for another pint. He was drinking twice as fast as the rest of them.

"I had a body come in yesterday that was pierced with thousands of holes," Stuart told them when he returned, "I was about to call you when I found he had been run over by a winnower. Some people find the weirdest ways to die."

"How cheery," Tommy said disdainfully, "doesn't anyone have any good news?"

"Man U were beaten last night by the Gunners," Winston replied.

"My wife left me," Stuart said almost casually, "says I am supposed to be happy since I love my bodies more than her."

Tommy understood the accusation and how powerless you feel against it. "Do you want me to talk to her? Explain about the job and the hours?"

"No! She already thinks you're a complete tosser. I mean why would a lord of the realm want to play cops and robbers? That what she'd always ask. Besides she's gone back to Ireland to her folks."

"Take some time and go after her," Barbara urged him, "if it were me I'd want you to prove you loved me."

"But I do love you sweetie, you know that," Stuart slurred lewdly.

"Lafferty, leave MY sergeant alone." It was much harsher than he had intended and now everyone was staring at him. He added hastily, "it's not her fault your wife left."

"Stuart's upset. He didn't mean anything by it and I work for you, I don't remember signing indenture papers or being sold on the auction block!"

He looked at his sergeant. "Sorry, it's just...sorry."

The miserable group sat in silence for a few awkward minutes until Tommy remembered. "Barbara has something to celebrate this week. A big milestone."

"What Barb?" Winston asked eagerly.

"Nothing," she snapped giving Lynley a withering glare.

Tommy did not understand. "It's a big birthday Barbara. Are you planning something special? I thought the squad could all come to the pub and celebrate with you. I'll order a cake."

"Broadcast it to the world why don't you!" She turned to the pub and shouted "I'll be forty on Tuesday!" A chorus of drunken cheers and catcalls came back at her. She turned to her boss and hissed, "happy?"

Winston downed his beer quickly. "Oh look nearly eight o'clock. Time I was off. See you Monday." Tommy and Barbara were still staring at each other. He looked contrite and puzzled while she had a murderous anger that was threatening to turn into something Winston did not want to witness.

"I'll come with you. We can share a cab," she said and pushed past Lynley. "G'night, she'll come back" she said to Stuart as she gently squeezed his shoulder. She ignored Tommy as she headed for the door.

"That went well," Lafferty said with a huge, intoxicated grin splitting his face.

Tommy stared at him. "I thought she'd be happy someone cared enough to arrange something."

"She's turning forty man! Women don't see that as an achievement. It's a time to reflect on everything and I think you'll find Barbara thinks she's a failure. She's got no one in her life, no kids, no family, never had a relationship, has spent ten years watching the man she adores stumble from one disaster to another and has nothing to look forward to except a life of loneliness. Yeah, let's have a party."

"Do you think she really feels that way?"

"Yeah, I do. Seeing I'm separated maybe I should give her a good rogering so she at least feels someone cares."

"Lafferty! Don't speak about Barbara like that." Tommy's jaw set angrily and his hand clenched into a fist.

"Well you don't seem up to it! You've tried it on with every other woman in the building it seems but never once with Barbara."

"Argh!" Tommy said dismissively. "What man?"

"What 'what man?"

"Who's this man she adores?" Tommy was angry and felt possessive about his sergeant. How could he not know about this man?

"You, you cockhead!"

"Me?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, I can't understand it but she dotes on your sorry arse and you never see it. Just think how she rallied everyone when you played paedophile with that woman that was murdered at your brother's flat after you'd just shagged her. We all could have lost our jobs trying help you but she was very insistent."

"You think she loves me?" Tommy asked softly.

"Man are you dense? Yes, she fooking loves you! The only thing she wants for her birthday is for you to turn up at her door with a big pink bow tied 'round your dick!"

"I see." Tommy sighed and stared at his beer. "I respect her too much," he eventually said.

"Too much to what? Make love to a beautiful woman who loves you."

"To hurt her by some ill-conceived encounter!"

"And I don't suppose you've the sense to realise YOU love HER do you?"

"You're presuming."

"No, I'm bloody observing! For fook's sake man! Just ask yourself who's in your head when you're having a tug."

"Stuart!"

"Stuart me all you like but I just saw your eyes. I KNOW I'm right!"

"She's a dear, dear friend," Tommy replied as he took a sip from his beer. "She'd never have me. She can't get past the 'Earl thing'."

"Help her. She only needs to know you truly love her."

"Do I though? I made a mistake with Helen trying to turn friendship into romance."

"When you first shagged Helen did you see stars?"

Tommy tilted his head. "I've never seen stars."

"Then you've never really been in love. You'll know with Barbara after one kiss. If you don't feel it then no harm done. Anyone can expect a kiss for their milestones."

Tommy looked down in his beer. "What if I see stars and she doesn't?"

"Finally we get to the truth! You're scared of rejection!"

"No damn it Lafferty, I'm scared we'll lose what we have and feel obligated to try to make it work."

"It's Barbara, not Helen. Helen felt obligated too, just like you, but Barbara loves you. She probably hasn't got a clue how to go about it physically given her limited experience and you can expect it to be awkward at first but don't give up. Kiss her like you've never kissed anyone and take everything slowly, at her pace. I think nature'll work it out for you."

Tommy glared at Stuart. "And how the hell do you know about her sexual experience?"

"See, you're jealous. Because we have shared a few tearful, drunken nights in the pub. She's had one lover, a one night stand fifteen years ago. She can't even bring herself to call you Tommy. Of course she's scared of anything happening even if she craves it."

"How do I even start? I mean we have patterns...lines we don't cross...rules."

"Then fooking break one. Do something romantic; something only you would do. Take her somewhere away from the crowds and find a reason to be close. Hold her hand, put your arm around her. I don't know. Just don't suddenly jump her like a randy teenager."

"I...I don't know Stuart. We're so different."

"What are you worried about? That your family and friends won't like it that you've fallen in love with someone from 'below stairs'?"

"No! I don't care about any of that but Barbara does."

"Then fooking convince her! Make her feel like a countess! Make her so desperate to be with you that nothing else matters. Be a fooking man Lynley!"

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Barbara's right. You shouldn't be sitting here drowning your sorrows. You should be in Ireland getting your wife back. Convince her! Treat her like your princess!"

Stuart smiled wryly. "You're fooking right, I should. We both need them to be happy don't we?"

Tommy nodded, drained his beer and stood to leave. "Yes Stuart, I think we do."