Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply.

There were words for small towns like Brayshore, and none of them were flattering. For the three detectives sent there to investigate the murder of the village vicar, it was the most isolated and boring place they had ever visited. The landscape was dull. Bald low rises of brown grass that not even cattle would eat, could not correctly be called moorland or bogland, nor was there any other geographical terms that suited. The village, set in a foggy dale was as lifeless as the landscape. Publess, the village had only two streets lined with small seventeenth-century grey stone cottages. The nearest shop was four miles away and the local pub was six miles in the opposite direction. The only mobile telephone coverage was at the top of the hill behind the church, and only in cloudy weather.

Detectives Lynley, Havers and Nkata were virtual prisoners in provincial Somerset. Forced to share one of the cottages run by the quintessential village busybody, Mrs Grimly who lived next door, the trio were tired - of the case, Brayshore and each other. Winston had commandeered the television to watch football, Barbara had retired early with a headache, and Tommy was trying to read in his room before the village power was cut off sharply at ten o'clock.

He quickly finished his chapter and visited the bathroom. Tommy had just changed into his pyjamas when the world went black, so he wandered to the window and looked up at the night sky. One advantage of the village, perhaps it's only redeeming feature, was that the faintest stars, normally lost in the backwash of light in the city, were visible, creating a majestic display of twinkling white, blue and yellow across the sky. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are, up above the world so high, like a diam..."

"Tommy!"

Shaken from his reverie, Tommy took a moment to recognise that the call was real.

"Tommy! Tom-my!"

"Havers?"

He fumbled in the dark for his torch. He flicked it on and ran out into the hall and up the ten steps to the attic level where his sergeant had her small room.

"Sir, what's wrong with Barbara?" Winston was close on his heels.

"What am I? A mind reader?" he snapped as he turned the handle and cautiously opened the door.

"Tommy. Tommy. Argh, Tommy. Noooooooooo!"

Tommy shone his light across towards the bed. Barbara was threshing around. Her arms flailed wildly and she was crying. Tommy rushed over. "It's alright, Barbara, I'm here."

"Tommy? Oh, Tommy."

Winston had followed him. "Is Sergeant Havers okay?"

"Just a nightmare, I think," Tommy replied as he sat on the edge of the bed and took Barbara's hand. She stopped her wild movements, and rolled towards him whimpering. "I'll stay with her and make sure she's safe."

Winston nodded. His torchlight moved onto the floor. "I'll leave you then."

"I will. Thank you, Winston. I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"That's okay. Call me if you need anything." Winston left the room and closed the door.

Lynley sat on the edge of the bed and shook her gently. "Barbara, wake up. You were having a nightmare. You're safe. I'm here."

"Tommy?" Barbara's arms locked around his waist and her head tried to bore into his stomach. He had to swing his legs up onto the bed to avoid over balancing and causing them both to tumble to the floor.

Without thinking, he wrapped his arms protectively around her and held her. "Barbara wake up, you're safe. I'm here."

His sergeant continued to cry. Her tears soaked through his pyjamas. They felt as if they were burning his skin. Hearing her cry his name had shocked him, but so had the way his body had responded. He felt ashamed that he had taken some pleasure from her obvious pain. He pulled her closer and placed a small kiss on the top of her head. "That's it. Breathe deeply. I'm here. You're okay. Nothing will hurt you."

Barbara stopped moving. "Sir? What...? Why...?"

"You were having a nightmare. You called for me."

"I did?"

"Know any other Tommies?"

"Sir! I didn't, did I?"

"Yes. And you should do it more often. It's nice to be called by my name. Do you want to talk about your nightmare?"

She tried to pull away, but he held her tightly. "I'm sorry. I..."

"Don't be. All earls need to rescue fair damsels every now and again just to keep our knightly hands in." Barbara emitted a feeble laugh. Tommy noticed that her pyjamas were damp from sweat. "You're all wet. I should go and let you change."

Barbara's fingers dug into him. "Stay. Just a bit. Please. I..."

"Of course." He ran his hand up and down her back.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"I was awake. I heard you call out."

She tried to wriggle free. "I feel silly."

"You're not. Do you have nightmares often?"

Barbara nodded. "More often that I want. It's always the same. Well more or less. I usually have it two or three times in one night then it goes for a while."

"Tell me. It might help."

"It always starts with Grace Finnegan pointing the gun at me and sort of morphs into that pub in Suffolk. Anyway, for most of it I am struggling to breathe and... sometimes... it's you that they are pointing the gun at and I'm helpless to stop it."

"Is that what happened tonight? Is that why you called my name?"

She shook her head. "No, I... it was me being shot and I wanted you to save me and to... like Suffolk."

Tommy hugged her a little closer and planted another kiss on her head. "I'm glad it's me."

"Huh?"

"That you call for. I'm glad it's me that you want."

Barbara pulled away from him. "It's just because of what happened outside the pub. It's... just memory tricks."

"Even so. I want to be your protector."

"Aren't you taking this knight thing a bit far, m'lord?"

"No. I don't mean to sound patronising. It's... I don't know."

"Well, that makes two of us."

"You called me Tommy." When Barbara did not reply, he continued. "So you think of me as Tommy?"

She sighed. "It is your name."

"Oh? I thought Sir was, it's the only thing you've ever called me."

This time Barbara wrenched herself from his arms and sat up, wedging her body between the wall and bedhead with her arms cradling her knees "You're my governor. I'm supposed to call you Sir. Or would you prefer Governor?"

"No, I prefer Tommy." He switched off his torch so they were in darkness except for the silvery glow of stars through the window.

"Why did you do that?"

"So we can get some sleep."

"Sleep? You can't sleep here."

"Why not?"

"What would Winston think?"

"Whatever he likes."

"No. Get out." Barbara sounded more panicked than angry. "Now."

"You said you have the dream two or three times. If I'm here, I can wake you before it gets too scary."

"You can't stay in my room."

"We could go to my room if you'd prefer."

"Sir!"

"Barbara, I am not trying to take advantage of you."

"I never thought that. You'd never want me for..."

"For what?"

"Doesn't matter. Anyway, thanks for offering but I am staying here."

Tommy pulled the covers up and eased himself down the bed until he was lying comfortably. "Up to you. Now, are you going to sit up there all night or are you coming down here?"

"You're not going to leave are you?"

It was half a frustrated statement, and half a plea. Tommy reached up and stroked her arm. "No, I am not going to leave you, Barbara. Not tonight. Not..." Now Tommy paused. He had been about to say ever and it caught him off guard. "When you need me," he added as a hasty cover.

"I need to go to the bathroom." Barbara began to climb over him.

"Don't run away. I will follow if you do."

Barbara mumbled something unintelligible as she left the room. As Tommy waited he contemplated why staying with her so important to him. As much as he wanted to keep her safe, his motives were not entirely altruistic. Part of him needed her just as much.

"If you're staying, move over."

Barbara's fear was that she would wake and find him gone. It was not as if this was anything other than friendship, but she knew she would feel abandoned if he snuck out in the early hours without saying goodbye. She had changed in the bathroom to the only other nightwear she had, an oversized t-shirt and knickers. Barbara knew dressed like that she was feeding her fantasies. But it was Tommy who had insisted on staying and it was hard to resist the chance to sleep in his arms just once.

Tommy dutifully shuffled back towards the wall. Barbara lifted the covers and lay rigidly on the very edge of the bed. He chuckled softly. "You might be more comfortable in the bed rather than on the side rail."

Barbara moved closer. "How do we do this?"

"If you want to talk, face me and come here. If you'd rather sleep, then roll over and snuggle back against me."

A gasp escaped before she could catch it. "Sleep maybe."

Barbara rolled over and slowly moved back into the bed. She stopped when she could feel the heat of his body. His arm came over her waist and he moved forward against her. It was warm, and comfortable, and frightening. "Sleep peacefully, Barbara."

"Thanks."

After a few minutes, Barbara relaxed. Her back was warm and she could feel his breath on her neck through her hair. Tommy moved his legs against hers. "Comfy?" he asked.

She was far too comfortable. "Yeah."

"Good. Now get some sleep."

Tommy woke when Barbara began to whimper. Her body was rigid as if frozen in fear. He shook her lightly hoping not to frighten her. "Barbara, wake up. You're having a nightmare. It's me, Tommy. You're safe."

Barbara rolled over and buried her face between his pillow and shoulder. She ran his hand down her back as if he was stroking a cat. She seemed to calm down. Her shirt was sweat soaked again and she felt both hot and cold. He pulled her closer.

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

"I thought..."

"They'd gone?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think you told me everything before. You have them most nights, don't you?"

"Yes. It's a bad night, that's all. At least I didn't roll out of bed an hit my head tonight."

"Does that happen often?"

Barbara's hand squeezed his arm. "Sometimes, but then the nightmare is different. I am being attacked by a panther."

"In the jungle?"

"No, in London. I am walking to an old van park on The Mall then I can't unlock it and get in, so I keep walking into the park, only it isn't St James' Park anymore. There are animals sleeping on the side of a hill, including camels. The panther follows me so I hit the ground. It walks straight over me and sprays me with urine. It attacks something else which fights back and gets away then the panther comes back and pokes me and starts pawing at me. I stare up and all I can see is shiny black fur. The next thing I am up and shouting at it. Then saying to other animals, 'don't help will you', before it leaps at me with its smelly mouth open, teeth bared and long claws out. I know it is going to kill me. Then I usually roll out of bed and wake up."

"Oh, Barbara." Tommy kissed her forehead. "Don't take this the wrong way, but maybe you need to see someone."

"I have. It didn't help. They went on about my repressed fears and my past. I never went back."

"I understand. Being asked to draw my grief never helped me."

"I'll be okay. I'm sorry I..."

"What?"

"Dragged you into my problems."

"You're my friend. I want to help you." He did, but he felt inadequate. Tommy had hoped being with her would ease her fears, but clearly he needed to do more.

"You should go back to your room. You need your sleep."

"You're all wet again. Maybe we should both go. The bed is dry and you can change out of this." He tugged at the sleeve of her t-shirt.

"I don't have any more pyjamas."

"You can borrow some of mine. Come on."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"What about Winston?"

"My bed's not big enough for him too."

Barbara laughed. It was genuine and made Tommy hope that the worst of the night was behind her.