Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply. Set immediately after Know Thine Enemy. For LucienJean - thanks for your kind words about my stories.
Tommy Lynley stood at his car and watched his sergeant walk away. He thought about running after her, but he understood that she needed space. Like him, Barbara had to process her feelings before she could share them. They rarely talked things through. They just thought about it all and with few words exchanged, understood the conclusion the other had reached.
He got in his car and shook his head. "Oh, Havers. Why can't we ever get things right?"
He started to drive towards his house. It was the only place he had to go. He would prefer to be at the pub with her. This week had driven a wedge between them, and the wound felt raw. Being together might sting a little, but it was the fastest way to heal. Unfortunately, she was too embarrassed and angry, more at herself now than anyone else. He understood that feeling well, and the need to find your peace with it. It was something only Barbara could do.
He picked at his dinner. He had no appetite. The sadness in her eyes tormented him, but more than that, he felt uneasy. It was as if Barbara was calling to him, alone, afraid and... Tommy could bear it no longer. He scraped his lasagne into the bin, grabbed his car keys and drove to Camden.
He parked as close to her flat as he could. As he walked towards her flat he realised he had no idea what he would say. It sounded egotistical, even to him, to say 'I thought you needed me.' He sighed. Maybe he needed her. In fact that was the truth. Barbara was as essential to him as oxygen. It was impossible to understand, let alone explain, but she was the only thing that kept him sane.
As he approached her door he heard music. It was just a solo female voice. Without accompaniment, it sounded haunting, or perhaps more correctly, haunted. It took him a minute to realise the voice was Barbara's. He had only heard her sing at that stupid caravan park, and not thought much of it. Now as he listened, he heard beauty and pain. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her forever.
Barbara began another song, a mournful Irish dirge telling of the fate of a woman against the backdrop of failed crops, death and migration. Never would she again see the land she knew, or feel the arms of her lover.
He knocked on the door. The singing abruptly stopped but the door did not open.
"Barbara? It's me, Tommy. Can we talk?"
A small crack of light appeared between the edge of the heavy black door and the white jamb. "Sir, I'm tired. Can we do this some other time?"
"No."
She sighed heavily, perhaps hiding a muttered curse. The door swung open. Barbara was dressed in what Tommy normally thought of as prison garb. Her green tracksuit pants were two sizes too big and hung like sacks. The matching faded sloppy joe looked like she had borrowed it from a giant.
"What do you want?"
He followed he into her lounge area. The blunt question had no answer. He needed to tell her the truth or Barbara would throw him out. "I came to apologise. I... I was jealous of Tania. That's one of the reasons I was so harsh to you. Not because I was right and you were wrong, but because I thought I was losing you to her."
Barbara ran her hands slowly through her hair then sunk onto her couch. "I... what do you expect me to say to that?"
"I don't know. You seemed so... taken with her."
"You mean taken by her. Sucked in, hook, line and sinker. I'm a copper. I should have known better."
Tommy sat next to her. "We've all been there."
"Yeah, but I was taken in by Carly too. I have a fundamental flaw in my judgement."
"It's called being human. If I recall, you taught me that. On a few occasions."
"It's just..."
"You needed to feel loved?"
"What? No!"
"Are you sure?"
"Sir, I'm not up for a deep and meaningful right now. Maybe some other time, eh?" She stood and moved towards her kitchen.
He followed and reached out. "I'm sorry. I want to be here, to support you."
She shrugged his hand off her shoulder. "I didn't break my leg. I don't need a crutch."
"We all do at times. I need you..." He lowered his gaze to the floor. "Constantly."
He looked up to see Barbara frown then rub the heel of her hand in a circle on her forehead. "Whatever this is, it isn't helping."
"Barbara... I heard you singing. It was beautiful, and yet so sad." He dared to step closer, relieved that she did not retreat further.
She shrugged. "I do that sometimes."
"You should do it more, for me."
"What?" She scowled at him. "No. It's private. Besides, you don't need to hear... forget it. Would you go, please?"
"Your pain?"
"What?"
He took another step towards her. "Were you about to say that I don't need to hear your pain?"
"Yes! No. I don't know. You should leave, Sir. You really should leave."
He heard the crack in her voice. For a moment their eyes met, and he knew she needed him to stay. "Are all your songs sad?"
"Mostly. The best songs are in the minor key." Barbara's voice openly quivered.
Tommy felt a stab of guilt upsetting her like this, but she needed to let it go. If that was a torrent of anger directed at him, so be it, but he could not leave her to suffer alone. He took the final two steps that closed the gap between them. He put his arm around her shoulder. "Not the happy ones."
She shook her head. "I don't sing them, I live my life in the minor key."
Tommy nodded. "We both do."
"Yeah. We're good detectives but not very competent when it comes to managing our lives. I think I'm just destined to be alone."
"I don't accept that, for either of us. We deserve to live in a major key for a change."
"Yeah, right." She looked up at him. Her forehead wrinkled, the. She sighed and closed her eyes. "I don't do happily ever after."
"Barbara..." Tommy put his hand on her chin and gently forced her to look at him. "You could. You could be happy."
"Yeah, I'll just snap my fingers and Mr Right'll be standing there I suppose."
He smiled. "Why not? You could try it and see what happens."
She snapped her fingers. "Abracadabra! See, it's just you."
Tommy tried not to feel hurt, but her words were like a hot iron through his heart. "Just me? Are you sure it's just me?"
"Sir?"
"I meant it when I said I was jealous. I need you, Barbara. I want to be... more than your colleague."
"You are." She stared at him, almost daring him to spell out whatever was on his mind.
He stroked her cheek. "More than your friend."
"You only feel sorry for me. Well, if you think I need a charity..."
"No, I don't!"
Her eyes clouded in confusion. "Then what?"
"I... want to mean more to you than I do now."
"You can't."
Tommy bristled, and stood straighter. His hand dropped from her face onto her shoulder. "Why not? Because you won't accept that our differences mean nothing to me? Why are you still so obsessed with our backgrounds? It's what we make of the future that counts. I love you, Barbara. Plain enough? It's taken me too long to tell you, but..."
Barbara smiled at him in a way that made his heart skip a beat. Her eyes shut and when they opened that last barrier between seemed to have gone. He pulled her closer into a half hug. She snuggled into it and put her hand on his chest.
"It's not our differences, Tommy. It's simply that you can't mean more than you already do, because you mean the world to me."
Tommy wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her so hard she whimpered. He released his strange hold but continued to hug her close. Her arms were around his waist. One hand balled his shirt in her fist while the other caressed his back. His face buried into her hair as he briefly kissed the top of her head. Her tears wet his chest, but like his, he knew they were relief, and happiness and the final discarding of years of pain.
"Tommy, I..." They moved to face each other. "I love you. I always have, but I'm not sure I'm ready for... any of this. Not after this week." She looked down.
"I understand." He lifted her chin so that she could see his eyes. "We have all the time we need."
"You don't mind?"
"Just let me stay with you. Don't send me away."
She smiled and took his hand and led him to her bedroom. "I won't. Ever."