Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply.

The Met's most successful crime solving team were exhausted. For the last week, the squad had been based in a small village about twenty miles east of Winchester. The murder of a retired postman would normally be a job for the local police, but with five other murdered postmen around southern England, Scotland Yard had assigned their best, DI Tommy Lynley and DS Barbara Havers.

Finally, today, they had their breakthrough. Barbara's hunch that the murders were not directly related to their role of postmen had been dismissed by everyone bar Tommy. He could not think of another connection, but with careful digging Barbara had found a link. All the men had been on the same golfing holiday to Scotland two years earlier. Admittedly, it had been organised through the postal worker's social club, but it was not related to the delivery of mail as most were assuming.

Sensing that she had uncovered a plausible connection, two days earlier Tommy had sent Barbara to Edinburgh to pursue the lead. Last night she had rung him with the news that the men had been drinking when they were in a car accident that resulted in the death of a child. The child's father had vowed revenge but had then emigrated to Canada. It had not taken Tommy long to find that he had re-entered the United Kingdom on a Canadian passport just before the first murder.

Barbara had flown back on the earliest flight, and together they had arrested and interrogated their suspect. Shortly before three o'clock, they had a confession and detailed accounts of each murder. Several hours of paperwork had followed before they were free to leave the hall they were using as a temporary command centre.

"I'm starving," Tommy said as they walked back to the small pub where they were staying. "And a few pints might help." Tommy put his arm around Barbara's shoulder. "You did well."

"Thanks," she said as they reached the door of the pub. "Do you mind if I skip dinner? I just want to go to bed."

"Of course. Are you feeling unwell?"

"Yeah, I'm getting a bad headache. I'll sleep it off and be fine in the morning. What time do you want to head back to London?"

Tommy gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry to hear that, Barbara. About nine?"

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

He watched her climb the stairs to her room. They were sharing the family suite tucked into the attic space which had two bedrooms and a sitting room. On the floor below, the hotel's only other rooms were occupied by Winston and a retired farmer who lived permanently at the pub. Tommy liked having Barbara living so close to him. For reasons unknown, he slept better - a point proven the last two nights when she had been in Scotland, and he had been awake most of the night. For the other five days, he had enjoyed a dreamless, peaceful slumber. He sighed, and entered the bar.

An hour later he crept into the room not wanting to wake Barbara. It was understandable that she was tired. As he closed the door, she groaned loudly. He winced then tip-toed across the floor to his room. Barbara kept crying out, and he realised it was not connected to any noise he was making. Concerned, he knocked on her room. "Barbara, are you okay?"

"No, my head is exploding."

He opened the door enough to see her writhing on the bed . "Have you taken anything for it?"

"I don't have anything. Sorry, I disturbed you."

"You didn't. I'm just sorry you're unwell. Would you like some tablets?"

"Yes, please."

"Back in a minute."

Tommy quickly found his tablets in the lining pocket of his suitcase. They were possibly a bit stale but were better than nothing. He went downstairs to find some water. By the time he returned Barbara sounded worse than she had before he left.

"Here, take these," he said passing her the water and two paracetamol and codeine tablets. "They're strong."

"The stronger, the better. Thanks, Sir."

Tommy watched her struggle to sit. He sat on the edge of her bed and put his hand on her back to hold her steady. "You poor thing. You should have said you were unwell."

"We had work to do. And it only got really painful once I was back here."

Without thinking about what he was doing, Tommy kicked off his shoes and lifted his legs onto the bed. Easing Barbara back so that she was resting against his chest, he gently began to massage her temples with his thumbs. Barbara groaned and he stopped. "Sorry, I thought it might help."

"It does, Sir. Don't stop."

Tommy circled her temples in light, soothing strokes, gradually increasing the pressure. He could feel that her facial muscles were taut, so slowly began to run his fingers across her forehead and over her cheeks. She sighed more peacefully as he slowly stretched the skin under her eyes from the inner to outer edge. "Better?" he asked as he began to inch his fingertips over her scalp.

"Hmm, that's nice."

For ten minutes, he massaged her face and head. It was meant to relax her and help with her headache, but oddly, it was also calming him. Tommy crossed his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, gently kissing the top of her head. When she put her hand on top of his, his soul stopped its relentless, restless searching. An incredible sense of peace filled him.

Absentmindedly, he voiced his thoughts. "When we go home, move in with me."

"Tommy?" She sounded half-asleep, and he was not sure if it was the drugs slowly dissolving in her blood that made her call him by name, or whether she shared his needs.

He held her firmly. "This is who we really are, what we both need. We can get a flat together somewhere. Leave the past and start a new future."

"Hmm, I'd like that, Tommy. You... and me..." Her sentence trailed off into a gentle snore.

Barbara woke with a dull ache in her head, a pain in her back and a constricted feeling in her chest. Momentarily thinking she was dying, Barbara tried to sit up.

"Mmm, are you okay?"

Tommy? He had his arms tightly around her, and she was leaning against the boniest part of his hip. "Yes," she yelped, wondering how to extricate herself from his grip.

Tommy released her and gently stroked her head. "How's your headache?"

Headache? Slowly it came back to her. He had given her tablets. And massaged her head. And... Had he really suggested they live together? "A bit confused. What was in those pills?"

He laughed softly. "Nothing nasty, I promise." He kissed her head then moved over so that she was lying next to him, but still within his embrace.

Barbara tried to think of a way to escape. "I need to go to the bathroom."

Tommy stood and offered her his hand. Feeling slightly woozy, she took it and sat up until she felt able to stand. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

"Hmm,' she replied then hurried out of the room.

In the bathroom she splashed her face with cold water, trying desperately to remember what had happened. It was very disconcerting to wake up in bed with your boss's arms encircling you, especially when it fulfilled one of your deepest fantasies. She made her way back to the room. Tommy was now lying in bed with the covers only up to his waist. His torso, previously clad in his work shirt, was now bare. See glanced around to see his trousers and shirt neatly folded over the chair. Oh good... Barbara felt her knees begin to sag and only just made it to the bed before she fell.

"Hey! Careful. You need to lie down." Tommy sat up and somehow helped her into bed. She knew she should object. She should make it clear now that she did not intend to do whatever he thought they were doing.

"Sorry, Sir, but..." Tommy began his mesmerising temple massage, and she groaned.

"Don't be. You're not well. This will help."

Drifting slightly away, she pushed back against him and put her hand on the bed. Or at least that's where she thought the bed would be. Instead, she had put her hand on Tommy's leg, at the junction of skin and the soft silk of his boxers. She lost control of her hand as her fingers caressed the soft material as he ran his hands lightly over her face. "Sir?"

"What happened to Tommy? That sounded so much sweeter."

She felt her face flush. "Did I call you...?

"Yes." His face was in her hair close to her ear.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

Tommy kissed her cheek. "A sensation of peace?"

"Mmm," Barbara moaned softly as he slowly turned her to face him.

"Happiness?"

"Fear!" she croaked, even though her fist was grasping the waistband of his boxers.

"Me too, but it's a healthy fear, an excited fear."

"But... if this is awkward and ugly."

"Then we know and won't spend hours alone wishing we were together."

"You do that?"

"Yes. I love you, Barbara and I'm fairly sure that I am also in love with you."

"Oh!" Barbara felt her resistance wavering.

"And something tells me that you love me too."

Is it that obvious? "Yes, I think so."

Tommy's face hovered near hers. He was waiting for her to decide their future. She closed her eyes and took the plunge, pressing her mouth tentatively against the softest, warmest lips she had ever kissed. Hesitation melted away as they opened mouths and souls to each other. Twisting tongues unknotted years of apprehension and regret.

'Still afraid?" he asked breathlessly. "Maybe we need to do that a few more times to be sure?"

"Mmm, yes please," she said before she kissed him hard. "I've always thought a flat at St George's Wharf would be handy for work."