Author's note: All usual disclaimers apply.

Because everyone needs their kindred spirit once in a while...

If Lord Asherton had been dreading the evening the reality for Tommy had been far worse. He had reluctantly agreed to escort his mother to a gala ball in support of an obscure cause that was not as important to him as many of his other charitable interests. The speeches had been deadly boring and the meal had given him the worst case of indigestion he could ever remember. Even now when he rubbed his stomach the distinct taste of over-cooked venison rose in his throat.

Tommy yawned and ran his hand through his hair. He removed his bow tie and folded it neatly before placing it into the inside pocket of his black dinner jacket. He wished that Barbara was with him but he could hardly ask her to come and keep him company. She was probably still mad at him for leaving early to attend the ball before he had completed his reports. The poor woman had a life too and as she had testily reminded him was not employed to be his private secretary. He regretted his parting line, 'oh come on Barbara we both know you'd do anything for me'. Even as he had spoken the words he had known he was being the pompous, arrogant, poncy version of himself that she hated. He had missed what she had muttered under her breath in response but he knew it was not favourable.

The hard plastic seat dug unpleasantly into his ribs if he sat back or cut off the circulation to his legs if he leant forward. He looked up and felt guilty. His mother was writhing in pain despite the two doses of morphine that they had given her and he was annoyed by an uncomfortable chair. When she had collapsed as he danced with her he had thought her shoe had broken but then he had seen she was unconscious. Fear and guilt had surged in equal measure. The ambulance had sped through the brightly lit London streets and he had trailed languidly in a cab. Now his mother was on a narrow gurney in the sub acute part Emergency. Doctors had prodded and probed. Nurses had taken samples of every bodily fluid and had given her oxygen and saline. They had been here for nearly two hours and yet they had no diagnosis. The doctor had rubbed his chin thoughtfully and ordered a CT scan.

When they wheeled his mother away he pulled out his phone and checked his messages. As he expected, there were none but he had hoped that Barbara would have sent one to say she had finished so that he could have an excuse to contact her. He held the phone between his thumb and forefinger and swirled it around and around with his other hand while he debated if he should call her. In the end he decide to text.

Mother taken ill. At St. L's A&E. Unlikely to make it in tomorrow. Pls tell Hillier. Tommy.

He felt better for having reached out. It was perfectly normal to tell his colleague what had happened.

Within a minute she had texted back. Sorry to hear. Give her my best. Are you ok? B.

He stared at the screen. She had given him an option to continue their dialogue. I think so. No diagnosis which is worrying.

He hoped she might ask more but knew that being polite and not wanting to probe she would probably not answer but it only took twenty seconds before his phone buzzed. Are J or P with you?Take care.

No. J will drive down tom. P in Spain. Thx

This time there was no comforting buzz and Tommy could not help but feel disappointed. After several minutes he put his phone away and focussed on the room. There were several cubicles partitioned off from each other by mid-blue disposable curtains. He noticed the date stamp on the curtain beside him. It had been installed four months ago and was due to be replaced in another eight. The one on the other side was slightly darker and had only just been installed. Tommy imagined a geyser of blood from an accident victim splattering on them. All the bays faced a central station where the doctors and nurses congregated around computer screens and readouts from the monitors attached to their patients. He soon determined the hierarchy. Dark blue scrubs were the nurses, green the doctors, and aqua the nursing assistants. Doctors dressed in civilian clothes and with stethoscopes around their necks were specialist registrars assessing patients to be moved to specialist wards.

The man in Bed 8 was in agony. His screams were piercing and made Tommy wonder if it was the same scream everyone in fear of their life made or if it was the pain of his greenstick fracture. Tommy could see the bone sticking up like the cantilever of a bridge out of the man's blood-soaked jeans. Motorcycle accident, he had heard the doctors say. The man in Bed 9 was Polish and seemed to think if he shouted louder the doctor would understand his condition. They had called for an interpreter. Several other beds had vomitting women, drug overdosed youths, and men who had allowed a few beers to convince them that they could box like Muhummed Ali only to find they were not butterflies.

Perhaps saddest of all were the women in the beds beside his mother. Through the thick disposable curtains he could not help but here the conversations. The young woman in Bed 4 had just been told that her scans had revealed a tumour in her brain which was the cause of her fit that afternoon. She was sobbing so hard and calling for her mother that it made Tommy's heart break when her husband had to keep reminding her that her mother had passed on last year.

Directly behind his seat the woman in Bed 2 was in her seventies and earlier in the evening had tried to kill herself by taking a concoction of all the pills in her medicine cabinet. She had been rushed in by her son who had found her lying on her bedroom floor. The doctors had pumped her stomach and given her antidotes and now he could hear her crying. He wanted to pull back the curtain and talk to her but it was not his place. Her son had come in and they had argued. "I've just had enough," she had told the man in answer to his lecture about her responsibilities to the family and its good name. The man had been more concerned with appearance than how the woman was feeling. "You haven't ever eased my pain son, you've only ever added to it. I made a mistake but I was still your mother."

The words hit Tommy like a baseball bat. They could easily have been uttered by his own mother. They had a shaky truce but they had never truly reconciled. Now listening to the woman cry he began to understand how his mother might feel. She continued to find reasons to spend time with him but he resented them as obligations. He would try harder to reach out to her in future; if there was a future. Tommy retreated from the world into his own head and tried to find a new way to think about the events as his father lay dying. He tried to find a way to forgive.

"Hiya."

Tommy looked up to see Barbara standing beside him. "Barbara!"

"I thought you might like some company."

Tommy smiled gratefully and nodded. "Thank you. How did you get in past that officious nurse on the door?"

Barbara looked down and then smirked as she looked up. "I told them I was Lord Asherton's partner."

Tommy grinned at her. "Not DI Lynley's partner?"

"I thought you were more likely to have rolled out the big title to get better service but I had my warrant card handy."

"Oh did you indeed? I'll have you know I did...exactly that. I'll get you a chair."

The only place in the cubicle was right next to him. He worried that it was closer than she would feel comfortable but she sat without hesitation and undid her coat. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug. "I'm glad you're here Barbara."

She looked up and smiled compassionately. "How's your mum?"

He never thought or referred to his mother as mum but coming from Barbara it sounded normal. If he ever had children he would like a more natural relationship with his children. He liked the idea of being called Dad not Father and he wanted his children to have a mum. Helen would definitely have been the Mother type and their children would have ended up like most of the semi-neglected but required heirs that filled the halls of Eton and Wycombe Abbey. He sighed heavily. Years ago that would have been normal but in this job he had seen some of the best and worst of humanity and he admired the way love was more gritty and real, more important perhaps, in the non-aristocratic circles.

"Gone for a scan," he said, "she should be back soon."

"I'll wait outside when she comes back. She won't want strangers hanging around."

Tommy hugged her shoulder again but this time he did not remove his hand but let it move down her arm to rest on the back of her chair. "You're not a stranger Barbara. You're...well your my partner remember?"

There was a quick hint of regret in Barbara's eyes that made Tommy sorry he had joked about it. She meant far more to him than a work partner but he did not have a word to describe their relationship. Soulmate felt closest but they were not lovers so that was inappropriate. It was to hard to classify; Barbara was simply...Barbara. Tommy was suddenly too warm. He stood and removed his jacket and placed it carefully over the back of his chair making sure it did not drag on the ground. When he sat he rested his hands awkwardly on each leg of his trousers.

"What happened?"

"She seemed fine during dinner then collapsed as I danced with her. When she came to she complained of terrible abdominal pain. It escalated rapidly and by the time we got here she was writhing in pain. She said it was much worse than childbirth. Her stomach has doubled in size!"

"Oh Sir how awful. Do they have any ideas?"

"Not really. 'A range of possibilities' they said which I think means they have no clue."

"The scan will help them," Barbara said. She reached out and put her hand over his fingers. The simple gesture was consoling and knowing he had her support Tommy felt less alone and lost. He looked up and smiled at her in the way he never smiled for anyone else. She had a unique ability to be able to comfort him with her genuine, open comments and actions and he had a special appreciative smile for those occasions. He noticed her blush slightly then felt the pressure lessen. He knew she was about to remove her hand so he twisted his fingers and curled them over hers. Her hand tensed and he feared she would pull away so he tightened his hold. She smiled shyly and relaxed.

"I'm glad you came," he said as he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. The noise and chaos of the room receded and Tommy had a moment of peace, only conscious of the world through the warm, reassuring grip of her hand. He took a few deep, restorative breaths then opened his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Nearly two o'clock."

"Really? Oh Barbara I'm sorry. I wouldn't have sent my texts if I'd realised how late it was."

"Don't be; I'm glad you contacted me."

They chatted briefly about what to tell Hillier and how to rebalance their caseload so that Tommy could take a few days off. Tommy was so engrossed in their discussion that he did not notice his mother's return until she spoke. "Hello Barbara."

Tommy and Barbara turned towards the voice. Dorothy was sitting in a wheelchair pushed by a large orderly. They both reacted instantly and guiltily pulled away their hands. Tommy's face reddened at the sight of his mother's gaze.

"Hello Lady Asherton, I'm sorry to hear you're not well. I hope they can fix you up quickly." Barbara sounded flustered. She turned to him and said, "I'll wait outside."

Tommy expected his mother to say something pompous and dismissive but she surprised him. "No stay please Barbara, it's good to have more company." Her voice was thin, almost feeble.

Tommy stood and helped lift his mother back into bed. She looked very drained. Her face was sallow and deeply lined. "The doctor will be here shortly," the orderly said as he left.

"I didn't enjoy that much," his mother said, "they make you drink this awful liquid then put you in a machine that spins and whirrs and has all these coloured lights turning on and off. You should hire the damned thing for the next Nanrunnel fair!"

Tommy was unsure how to react but Barbara laughed and started talking easily to his mother relieving him of the obligation to speak. The doctor strode up to the cubicle. "Lady Asherton?" When she nodded he continued, "I'm Doctor John Buckingstoke the senior surgeon on duty. Is this your son?"

Tommy stood and shook the doctor's hand firmly. "Tommy Lynley, pleased to meet you doctor."

"Right, I have Lord Asherton listed as next-of-kin. Your father I presume?"

"No, I'm Lord Asherton but I prefer not to use the title."

The doctor looked him up and down with a look of derision that Tommy found offensive. It was not worth arguing if the man had a chip on his shoulder. He felt like asking if he was from Acton but was appalled by his reaction. He glanced guiltily over at Barbara.

The doctor turned to his mother. "I've reviewed the scan. Can you tell me when you last did a poo?"

Lynley saw his mother's shock and knew her face was probably the same as his own. He was not sure the doctor needed to be so vulgar. His mother answered with surprising dignity. "I opened my bowels at six this morning, the same as every morning. Why?" He heard Barbara stifle a laugh. She was obviously highly amused by their reaction and despite himself he smiled at her.

"You appear to have an obstruction in your bowel but it is difficult to say it if it is an obstruction or a twisted bowel. We will operate as soon as we can. The operation has some risks of course but without it you will most likely die so not much choice is there? Right then I will see you in theatre."

"What risks exactly Doctor and how do we minimise them?" Tommy was shocked that Barbara had been the one to ask. He realised it probably should have been him.

"Stroke or heart attack from the operation but we will give your mother-in-law blood thinners. Anaesthetics can be tricky so there is always the risk of an adverse reaction. We may need to resect the bowel and I don't know how much we may need to remove. Worst case is that we will have to insert a stoma. I will talk to you and Lord Asherton once surgery is over." The doctor turned on his heels and left.

"With a bedside manner like that I imagine he is a brilliant surgeon," his mother quipped.

Tommy felt he should say something reassuring. He took his mother's hand in both of his and said, "it will be fine Mother. You'll sail through this and be back dancing before you know it."

Half an hour later his mother was prepared for surgery. Tommy said goodbye awkwardly and hoped it would not be the last time he saw her. Barbara was excellent with them both and eased an otherwise tense moment. As she was wheeled away Dorothy looked back at them. "Look after him for me Barbara, he needs you."

"He needs you too but I will, always," Barbara promised. Tommy had heard the sincerity in her tone. He showed his gratitude by hugging her shoulder. His mother would probably notice and make a fuss when she was better but right now he did not care. It was an old familiar gesture but he hoped Barbara understood how much he appreciated her coming to be with him and how much her promise meant.