The first time they had sex, Barbara wasn't stupid enough or naïve enough to think that it had actually meant something. To be honest, she was faintly terrified he would pull his chivalrous act and insist upon making something of it, and was both relieved and slightly disappointed when he didn't. She told herself she had just wanted the chance to rib him about his useless, aristocratic sensibilities.
The first time they had sex was right after wrapping up a case. He came into her room with a bottle of scotch and said, "Glad that's over with, eh?" Barbara took the bottle and didn't say what she was thinking, which was that she was just glad she didn't have to look at pictures of disemboweled ten year old boys anymore. They got to drinking heavier than she'd ever seen him drink before, and they got to talking about anything but the case, which of course eventually led to a fight.
She'd never learned how to not fight with him. It's a skill she just can't seem to acquire.
Neither of them were really drunk, but neither was thinking very clearly either, and somehow in the course of the row they got up facing each other, Lynley all commanding poise and flawless posture even after three-quarters of a bottle, Barbara using occasional obscene hand gestures to emphasize her points.
And then she said something (she doesn't quite remember what and she's afraid to ask if he remembers) that made his eyes harden and his body tense. And somehow she was up against a wall with his hands on her shoulders and he was saying something very harsh about passing undue judgment on things she doesn't understand, and then…and then it had been his mouth on hers and a frantic search for skin under stubborn clothing, and the eighth Earl of Asherton whispering very un-aristocratic curses into the curve of her neck (she had a hickey the next day, she remembers) while her nails dug into the hard muscle of his shoulders and a slick glide of skin on skin that made her shudder and throw her head back. She would have screamed her way into the oblivion of her orgasm but he put a hand over her mouth, his breath hitching and every line of his body going taut as he followed her over the edge.
She called him, sir, she remembers. He didn't correct her.
Disclaimer: Uh...look over there!
AN: ...I have no fucking clue where this came from.