Barbara felt really depressed. She was having premenstrual cramps, she'd had to skip lunch because she'd been stuck in traffic on her way back to the Met after seeing a witness, and to top it off, Lynley was having a really bad day.
She suffered with him in his grief, and he had better days and worse days, but today he'd been pushing her around all day long. He knew exactly how to push her buttons, and she felt like she was about to slap him or something to make him snap out of it.
Right now, to avoid him for ten minutes, she was hiding in the ladies room. She'd combed her hair twice, and washed her hands too, and there was really no reason to stay in there any longer. She opened her hairclip to put her hair up, and the clip broke in her hands.
That was it. The famous last drop. Barbara burst into tears, leaning on the cold bathroom wall tiles, hiding her face in her hands. Thank goodness she wasn't wearing any make up anyway, at least she wouldn't have mascara smeared all over her face or something.
She heard the bathroom door open quietly behind her, and tried to dab the tears away with her handkerchief, to no avail.
Even without turning around, she knew Lynley had come looking for her.
"This is the ladie's loo, you know, Sir, you're not allowed in here." She blew her nose.
Lynley felt like the heavy weight that rested on his shoulders and his chest permanently since Helen's death had become even heavier. Of all people he treated Barbara the worst. Somewhere along the line she'd become a punchingbag of sorts, he wanted to unload some of his burden on her.
He cleared his throat.
"I'm sorry, Barbara, I've been difficult all day." There, he'd appologised, surely she'd see reason and stop crying now? It always worked. When he'd been yelling at her or when he'd been rude, he just needed to appologise, and Barbara would melt before his eyes.
He was sorely mistaken. Barbara had had enough, and would have none of it. Not this time.
"Oh, your sorry, is it? Well, I'm not. I'm sick and tired of you!", she was yelling now, " You think you can just treat me however you want? Well, I've got news for you, Sir! I've been trying to be your friend and to be here for you, but all you do is misuse my friendship! Actaully, I don't know if we're even friends anymore, maybe I've just been deluding myself and we were never friends! To you I'm just good old Barbara, just yell at her whenever you like! Bloody hell, I've had enough. I'll put in for a transfer, I will."
She was still sobbing. Lynley stared at her in shock. Surely she knew how important she was to him? But then, how would she? He never was very vocal about his affections, not even with Helen, and with Barbara he'd always kept that last professional distance between them.
How could he fix this? He had a emotional flash, suddenly understanding that it was now or never. He didn't know what to say.
He took two steps forward and forced her into a hug, holding her tightly so she wouldn't run away. He suddenly felt himself starting to cry.
To hell with the stiff upper lip. He just held Barbara to himself, so tightly she'd later have bruises on her arms and on her side, but it didn't matter.
When his tears finally started flowing, she knew he'd be better. Not all right, but better. At least he'd admitted to himself he had feelings, that was a good start.
She hugged him back, pushing him against the window sill of the bathroom window, making him sit down. He was so much taller than she, if she wanted to hold him, he needed to sit. She cradled his head against her shoulder until the sobbing subsided.
"I'm so sorry, Barbara, for everything."
And since he really meant it this time, she melted and forgave him at once.
"It's all right, it's not your fault, Sir, sshhhhhhhhhh."
"You won't really put in for a transfer, will you?"
"No, Sir, I won't."
He blew his nose too, and took a couple of deep breaths to calm down.
"Did you have lunch, Sir? Because I missed lunch, and I think we both need something to eat?" He'd been eating really badly for months, and was starting to look really gaunt.
He suddenly smiled at her, a small smile.
"I'll buy you lunch, Barbara, come on. We'll go to that pub you like so much, where they make the homemade chips?"
Barbara immediately beamed at him, draggin him to his feet. Wonderful. Fish and chips, and maybe even a small beer? YUM.
"Let's get a move on, then Sir!"
He shook his head. She was childlike in her enthusiasm, that was one of the things he really liked about her.
They both headed for the door, and then out of the office.
Barbara saw Winston lingering in the hallway, and gave him a thumbs up.
She was sure Lynley would have more bad days, but this was a start on the road to recovery.
FINIS
