Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply. A fluffy one-shot resulting from a discussion about Baltimore's weather. Dedicated to residents of that city.

Icing sugar is known as confectioner's sugar, or powdered sugar in some parts of the world.

Barbara stood by the window, sipping coffee and staring out at the sun trying to peep above the ridgeline. Tommy added a log to the fire then came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Any regrets?" he asked as he kissed the top of her head.

"None. You?"

"Only that we didn't do this sooner. Years ago." He nibbled the top of her ear and enjoyed her squirm in his arms.

"Hmm, I'm sorry I accused you of not being romantic, Tommy. You proved me wrong. Thank you."

"Would you like me to prove it again?"

"Shouldn't we head back to London?"

"Yes." He nuzzled his face into her hair breathing warm air across her neck. "But the radio said there might be a blizzard. It would be much safer to stay here."

Barbara turned in his arms. "Well, in that case, maybe it's safer to stay in bed."

"My thoughts exactly." Tommy bent down and kissed her.

SEVENTEEN HOURS BEFORE

"Oh, wonderful! Now it's starting to snow. We'll never get back to London at this rate."

Barbara turned to look at her boss. "What's the hurry, Sir? We solved the murder. We have days of paperwork, and if we go back too early we might get assigned something else, and at the moment, I'm too tired to even contemplate that. The bed in that pub last night killed my back."

"I did offer you my room."

"I know, but that bed looked just as bad, and you're bigger than me. It was only fair I took the single."

"I would happily have slept on the floor if it had stopped you grumbling about it all day!"

"Oh, like that is it? I failed to mention my lack of sleep came from a certain DI in the next room snoring his head off all night."

"I don't snore!"

"No?"

"I don't. No one's ever told me that."

"Because m'lord, they're either too scared of you, or more polite than me."

"You call this polite?"

"Well, not by Eton standards, but there's a hell of a lot I could say right now that I'm not."

"Maybe you should."

"Trust me, I shouldn't."

Tommy snorted. "Anyway, if you hadn't been so bloody stubborn about waiting until charges were laid, we could have left yesterday morning. I could be home now sipping on a mellow Irish whiskey."

Barbara looked at her watch. "Mmm. That'd be good at two o'clock in the afternoon."

They sat in silence for the next ten minutes until Barbara put her hand to her back and groaned. Tommy looked over. "Your back really is sore."

"Yeah. And it's making me crabby. Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, Barbara. I'm just... frustrated."

"Why?"

Tommy looked across at her. He could hardly say it was because he had intended for her to stay in his bed with him, not alone, but she had completely missed, or ignored, his offer. "I'm just wrestling with issues that I don't seem to be able to solve."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes, but I don't know how, and now is not the right time. Just put it down to me being tired."

"Then maybe we should stop for ten minutes. We've been cramped up in the car since Shrewsbury. And your idea to skirt Birmingham might have saved traffic, but I doubt it saved time."

"It's a nicer drive through the countryside."

"Yes. But you can't have it both ways. The motorway would have been faster than winding through here."

"You were the one complaining that all we ever see are bodies and motorways."

"Are you saying you came this way for me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"The Cotswolds are famous for being rom... scenic."

"Yeah, but we're not tourists are we?"

"What are we, Barbara?"

"Police?"

"Yes, I think that's an established fact, but what are we? To each other?"

"Sir? I think you should take a break. There was a sign back there for a lookout about half a mile ahead. See, up there, on the right."

Tommy followed her instructions. The lookout, with a metal railing covered in dripping icicles, looked south towards Stroud and Tetbury. Barbara got out of the car and walked to the edge. "Isn't it beautiful, the way the snow is falling? And look at that quaint little village with the big pub."

Tommy glanced at the landscape. Brown grassy hills with the occasional copse of leafless trees was not doing much to improve his mood. The pub looked inviting. A few pints would help. "It looks like the Cotswolds have a bad case of dandruff."

Barbara's eyebrows shot up then lowered into a frown. "You can't say that. You don't have a romantic bone in your body, do you?"

"Yes, I do. Very romantic in fact."

"Yeah, it shows."

"You want romantic?" Tommy put his arm around her shoulder and turned her to face the scene. "The brown fields and the hollows near the streams remind me of a tin of freshly baked chocolate brownies that God is dusting with icing sugar ready for two lovers to sit by a fire and eat them before making love. Better?"

Barbara stared at him. "I do love chocolate brownies."

"So do I." Tommy looked at her. She was smiling. If she wanted romance, then maybe action spoke louder than words. Tommy pulled her close and kissed her. Barbara kissed him back. "I wonder if that pub has a room with a fire?"