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.

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Author's note and summary: I know I've hidden a few themes of it in my previous texts but this one here (although playing in January) will be my real Christmas story. Once again I've had just a small scene in my head and a story grew around it. Only this time I start with the fluffy ending.

I wish you happy and most of all peaceful festive days and a nice start into 2017.

When you feel miserable it's always good to have friends and places where you'll find relaxation, peace, and maybe more. And when you get the chance just make a wish.

Enjoy...

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be careful what you wish for

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The huge room with its stone walls and floor is decorated in green, red and straw yellow. There are huge branches, garlands and wreaths of fir tree with red ribbons and bows hanging at the walls or standing on surfaces. The huge Christmas tree is decorated in the same colours, completed with a lightchain, a few sweets, red apples and shiny glass bulbs. A star made of straw sits on its top. The only light in the hall comes from big candles placed strategically everywhere in the room. In the huge stone fireplace the logs crackle but give away just a bit of warmth.

That's why the woman sitting on the old settee, even though she wears a knitted sweater with a ridiculous pattern, is wrapped in a thick blanket, red of course, matching the rest of the decoration. Her feet in woollen socks are propped under her legs. Snuffling from time to time she is engrossed in a weighty tome. About three quarters of it already are read and it obviously is a captivating story because the voices coming from the kitchen do not really reach her mind.

There is a light smell of spices and the hint of champagne in the air and near the door a stack of cartonage and paper next to a blue rubbish bag wait to be collected. On the table next to the settee stands a box of tissues and nasal spray. Both are nearly empty. The glass with expensive bubbly instead is almost untouched.

Barbara still prefers a beer. Although she would not have started drinking at three in the afternoon. Perhaps spurred by something in the book her mind briefly wanders to a mug of hot chocolate but then she just pulls the blanket a bit tighter around herself and looks up to get some mental warmth from the burning fire. She sneezes.

Time to blow her nose.

Despite her runny nose she is completely relaxed and enjoys having the chance to calm down. There has been enough trouble, particularly recently, so she is glad that she is able to just sit here and do nothing at all but read a book. No trouble, no shouting neighbours, no blaring sounds of the city of London, no awful murder, no on call duties. Apart for the remnants of a bad cold there is just silence in this Cornish manor. Silence, calmness, good food, good drinks, just one festive occasion on New Year's Eve, and only teasing family banter. A few nice walks at the coast in the chilly wind with a wonderful man at her side has topped her stay. It even could have been perfect if Tommy would have been her man, if he would have been more than just a friend. Unfortunately he is the 8th Earl of Asherton, lord of this house, and in his role as Detective Inspector of the Met he also is her boss. All those romantic wishes that had crossed her mind the previous days would stay where they were - in her mind. Forever.

Barbara finally takes a small sip from the crystal glass and carefully puts it back on the coaster. With a deep sigh she returns her attention to the last quarter of her reading matter. It has been the best distraction for the past few days here. Every evening she had sent her thoughts away from her perfectly romantic surroundings and into the fantastic world between the letters. Beasts fought by heroes, strong women keeping more magical creatures, wise children solving problems, wiser old men overlooking everything, miracles, only a few dramas, only a few deaths, but dreamlike lands, fairytale developments and fortunately only hints of romance - all this makes the perfect read for cold winter evenings. Or afternoons like this, when everybody around is calming down from the festivities. She snuffles and pulls her soft scarf closer around her neck.

Feet in felt slippers scuffling through the hall distract her from the words Barbara reads. She knows without looking whose feet are in it. She would have known their sound from hundreds of other feet. Although she had found those slippers rather amusing at first. Then she had put some of them on and never had walked through the house without some from then on. The stone floors are practical if you walk in here with muddy wet boots but they could get quite chilly in winter.

A well known aftershave overlays the spice and fir tree smell when Tommy comes to a halt next to the settee. Barbara still does not look up.

"It's rather cool in here, isn't it?" he says watching her blanket. She snuffles again.

"Hm? Ah, well, it's okay. As long as the fire still burns." Barbara still speaks through her nose and she hates it.

Silently Tommy pokes in the fire. Then he puts another log onto it and sits down next to Barbara. For a while he just stares into the fire and she keeps on reading. He watches her relaxed features and smiles. They sit like this for several moments. His smile had died eventually before she puts a finger between the pages and looks up.

"What?" she asks. She is not angry, she is not anxious, she even is not overly curious. She just returns his look. There is a pause in which Tommy just keeps looking at her. Thoughts visibly are running through his head and so it is no wonder that Barbara becomes more curious what this is about. She has no clue why he just sits there and keeps staring at her. Her smile starts to feel awkward but she manages to keep it up. This, she thinks, would be the perfect moment for her to kiss him. Or for him to kiss her. A light rosy touch appears on her cheeks. When he still makes no move to talk Barbara tilts her head just a little bit and was about to break the silence but Tommy gets there first.

"I love you." Although he had not intended to be so direct it simply bursts out of his mouth. He is oblivious to the annoyed groan his mother had elicited standing in the doorway. "But I don't know how to tell you."

Barbara does not hear Daze either. She just stares at him shocked. Her smile had vanished in an instant. Biting the right parts of his lower lip and feeling like a stupid schoolboy Tommy holds her gaze. His eyes are anxious. Everything he emanates was anxious. His Sergeant and friend for so many years just watches him in sheer disbelief. She dares not to trust her ears. He could not possibly have said what he had said, could he. He would have been more eloquent. He would have been more romantic. Plus he has had the best moments during the previous days to tell her that and he had not. He could not possibly blurt it out like that in this completely romantic setting. Could he? And Barbara absolutely has no idea how she should respond.

"So?" She never heard him speaking with such a careful voice. Such a careful, tenderly anxious voice. Barbara is sure she must be dreaming. She tries to speak anyway. The huskiness of her question surely only comes from her cold.

"What?"

"So... what's your answer?" There is a little crack in his voice, or maybe she only fantasises it. Barbara has to make sure she had heard him correctly.

"To what question?" Carefully she places the small piece of paper with the aphorism between the pages she had just been reading and snaps the book shut. Then she raises her eyes in the moment Tommy runs a hand through his hair. Everything inside her screams that he should stop doing this. Every time he does it, every time he pushes the unruly lock back it reminds her that she wants to do it. And then he shows his best irresistible lopsided grin.

"Actually I-" No, he still does not know what else he should say. In fact he already had said what is the most important so he cuts himself short and both keep staring at each other. Barbara knows she is the one who should say something. She even knows what she wants to say. Only she could not. She could not trust her ears and she could not trust her voice. She could have faith in her ridiculous fate though.

"Stop!" a female voice warns in the distance.

"Ah, bollocks." a boyish voice laughs.

Trampling feet could faintly be heard coming from the hallway, growing louder and ending with Tommy's nephew suddenly howling out loud right at the back of the settee. Both adults on the cushions jerk and look up at the young boy. Trevor waves a twig of mistletoe above Tommy's head and he is howling like a police car.

Angry about that interruption Tommy only gives him a glare. "Shut up, Trevor! Why don't you go and pester your brother?" Barbara has opted for a nervous chuckle. It is her fate. There never would be those perfect moments of romance in all her life. Everything always turns into something ridiculous at some point. Trevor grimaces disgusted.

"Ugh - that's stupid! I won't kiss him!"

He earns a confused look from his uncle. "Why should you?"

Groaning in annoyance the boy looks from one to the other. Every time he moves his head the bells at his ridiculous red fur hat jingle. Pointing his small index finger at Barbara he says "You have to kiss him." And shaking the mistletoe above his uncle's head he explains as if Tommy was a stupid little child "You know, this is a missiltoo. And Judith told me that when one is under a missiltoo he has to be kissed. So Barbara has to-"

Smiling Barbara cuts him short. This is getting far too complicated to get out and even too hilarious to be the romantic moment she always had dreamed of but Tommy's nephew of course could not yet know of all those things. "Darling, I don't have to. Even if you'd weave the twig into his hair. I'm only allowed to do so."

In the corner of her eyes she recognises with accelerated heart-beat that Tommy's shoulders have slumped. Breathing deeply she puts the book onto the little table where her champagne stands. Suddenly the three words he has said earlier repeatedly hammer in her brain. "But I will do you the favour."

Tommy's eyes light up.

Apparently her silly brain is not aware of what it is making her tongue say but now that she has made the decision there is no turning back anymore. Isn't this what she had wished for at the office's Christmas party anyway? She slides a bit closer to her boss who obviously has stopped breathing. Barbara tries to read his expression. Is there joy in his eyes? Of course, there must be. He had just told her that he loves her so obviously a kiss is more than in order. Without diverting her eyes from his she coily takes Tommy's hand and feels a soft squeeze in return. They still simply look at each other so Trevor impatiently jumps from one foot to the other.

"Ah, now go on! Kiss him!"

With all the braveness she is able to muster Barbara bends over to Tommy. She has to stretch her back to get close to his face so the little plastic star in the pocket of her jeans pricks her leg and reminds her all the more that there is no way this won't happen. In that moment time stands still. Even Tommy is not moving a single muscle so she gets another bit closer and finally gives him a small tentative kiss. They have barely touched but it still has been powerful enough to send a shiver down her spine. Her lips are tingling with the sensation of the contact and she definitely wants more of that feeling so she gives him another featherlight kiss. Maybe he still is watching her but Barbara does not care at all now. Her eyes have closed automatically and she kepps her lips hovering above his where she could feel his warm breath, with a hint of whisky, continuing to flow across her face, sinking deep into her system.

When Trevor starts to howl in triumph the couple does not react. They continued to sit close for a few breaths. Then Tommy gently takes hold of her elbow and pulls her even closer to him. Their lips finally meet in a lasting kiss and neither one senses that Trevor still is watching when they start to softly nudge the other. Smiling their lips only partly touch and the tips of their tongues teasingly begin to play. They elicit small approving sounds and their arms move around each other in a proper embrace. Both could not care less about the boy behind the back of the settee. When their kiss deepens and becomes very passionate Trevor grimaces again.

"Ugh... gross!" he says and then runs away shouting. "Juuuudith! They're disgusting!"

When he comes past his grand aunt Daze who had put a hand over her happily beating heart he is completely irritated by her enchanted smile. Adults...

All this does not impress the couple on the settee. Only after a long while they breathlessly break apart. Tommy is grinning like a happy fool when Barbara carefully touches her lips with her fingertips, blushing deeply and giving him a nervously cautious smile. He pulls her into a gentle hug. Together they fall to the side, leaning against the backrest. Then he places a soft kiss on top of her hair. "Sorry for being disgusting." he whispers. It earns him a grunted laugh into his shirt so he knows in the end everything is fine with her.

"Sorry for ruining your shirt, Tommy." She snuffles and wipes her nose with the tissue she still has in her left hand.

"I couldn't care less." he nuzzles into her her hair. "You still owe me an answer. So?"

He has hoped for a gentle 'I love you too' but Barbara only nods against his chest and mumbles "Yes!"

"Hallelujah!" his mother's outbursting voice comes from the door so Tommy looks up in surprise. He sees his mother smiling fondly. "It sounds like I have to plan a wedding party."

Her son only rolls his eyes. Since Barbara has started to sit upright his attention turns back to her lips. This way she would be unable to object to his mother's forthright but brilliant idea.

Instead she cries out in pain. "Ouch!" she whimpers and Tommy jerks back. Barbara pulls a small piece of yellow plastic from the pocket of her jeans. It is broken.

"What's that?"

"My wishing star."

"Oh... It's broken..."

Barbara's face beams red. She looks at his full lips and involuntarily licks hers. She may have been just kissed by the man she loves but who says it could not be repeated. "It already has fulfilled my wish." she croaks with a gesture of her chin towards him and happily obliges to Tommy pulling her into an even tighter embrace than before.

"You always should be careful what you wish for!" he tenderly growls. Any reply is caught up in the following passionate kiss.

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