Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply.
"Barbara!" Silence. "Baaaaarbaaaaraaa!"
Tommy felt as if he were running through thigh high mud. He expended effort but made no progress. He was trapped in an icy, gelatinous goo. He struggled forward calling for Barbara, desperate to find her. In the distance he could hear crying. He waded toward the sound but it echoed and confused him. He could not tell if he was getting closer or further away.
Then another voice drifted down. "Darling! Over here."
"Helen? Why are you here?"
He wanted to cry out to Barbara again but his throat was dry and scratchy. He coughed and a cloud of red dust filled the air. Blinded, he flailed in the sludge that was dragging him under. Every step he took he got deeper until only his head was above it. It became warm and comforting trying to lure him to his doom. He did not want to be there. He wanted Barbara.
Helen appeared from the dust and beckoned to him. "Three more steps Tommy and you'll be with me forever."
He stopped moving. He did not dare breathe. He waited and hoped. He had the strength for one more effort. He turned slowly and took one step away. He blinked, not believing his eyes. In the distance Barbara was standing on a pillar, dressed in flowing golden robes. He smiled. Just the sight of her made him feel hope. He took a step, then another and another until he was running as hard as he could. He fell at the base of the pillar and beseeched her forgiveness. "I'm a fool. I love you Barbara. Only you. You complete me, balance me, give me a reason to fight. Take me back, please!"
Barbara peered down emotionlessly at him. He knew that look. Frustration, chastisement and pity tempered by an undeniable affection. She slowly shook her head. "You've had long enough." She turned and began to fly away.
"Nooooooooooooo! Stay! Baaaaaarbaaaaaaaraaaa!"
Tommy picked his sergeant, Barbara Havers, up at seven o'clock to drive down to Canterbury where the local police had arrested their suspect in the murder of a young prostitute.
"Are you alright Sir?" she asked as she climbed into the passenger seat of his car.
"Yes, just tired Barbara. I had weird nightmares." He was pleased in one way that she had noticed but he worried where it might lead. The dream echoed through his head.
"Well you know what they say, dreams are the window to the soul."
"Mmm," he replied noncommittally.
"If that's the case with me then I'm in trouble!"
"You have nightmares?"
"Doesn't everyone?"
"I suppose in our line of work we see more things the mind has to process."
Barbara smiled kindly at him and he knew she was thinking about his reaction to Helen's violent death. "Yeah, we do sometimes. I mainly have nightmares about things in the past but in different settings or different endings. I think it's healthier than bottling it up."
Tommy studied her carefully. She had always been his confidante but was he really in love with her? He certainly loved her and he was physically attracted to her, something he had tried hard to ignore over the years. But in love? It did not feel like it had with Deborah or Helen but neither of those relationships had been perfect, or even particularly happy. Far from it. Oddly, being with Barbara, even when she frustrated him, made him happy. Could he really be in love with her?
"Wise as always Sergeant. Do you dream about when you were shot?" Tommy often dreamt about that and how it felt to almost lose her. It was one of his worst nightmares.
"No, not really but for a long time I dreamt I was shot by that stupid fat copper."
"I was never going to let that happen."
"How could you stop it? I was the one goading him into it. Something snapped. I was glad you were outside though." Tommy noticed her face blushing. He remembered the feel of her in his arms and smiled. It was the only time they had hugged but not the only time he had wanted to hold her or have her hold him.
"Me too." He smiled reassuringly at her hoping she understood that he had wanted to protect her and comfort her.
Barbara's face flushed a deep crimson and she lowered her eyes. "Sometimes I dream that I couldn't stop Emily Barlow and turn that boat around. Sometimes I...let's talk about something else."
"You saved Hadiyyah's life, and mine." This time he looked at her with undisguised admiration. Barbara could not hold his gaze.
"You saved her. I just came back so you didn't have to swim to shore."
"We're a good team Barbara."
"Yeah. Yeah, we are Sir, we are."
They sat in silence for the next ten minutes until Tommy spoke. "Do you ever wonder what the pilgrims talked about as they walked to Canterbury?"
"Tall tales to earn a meal?"
Tommy looked at her and frowned. She never ceased to surprise him. "Very clever Barbara. I see you're acquainted with Mr Chaucer."
"Not really acquainted Sir, let's say I'm aware of him. Something tells me you were thinking of real pilgrims."
He nodded. "I was. I don't know the answer. I was just wondering."
"Contemplation of their lives, specifically their sins and redemption I imagine."
"Hmm, for some of us that would require a lot of contemplation. Do you ever wake up and think 'I've been a fool'?"
"Yeah, but I don't have to be asleep to think that about you."
She sounded serious but her cheeky grin gave her away. "Very droll Sergeant."
"So why have you been a fool this time?" There was mischief in her voice as if she was expecting another of his misdemeanours.
Tommy saw the lay-by exit and swung off the M2 and pulled up behind a Waitrose lorry. He looked across at her. Her raised eyebrow sought an answer. "Coffee?"
He bought two over-priced and under-heated coffees from the van at the head of the lay-by. Barbara stood by the bonnet of his car and accepted the cup from him. "They serve Standard NATO, whether you want it or not."
"Ta." He knew she was expecting him to tell her something. "Is something about the case bothering you? Have we missed something?"
"No, it's not the case. It's about us."
"Us? What's wrong with us?" she asked suspiciously. "You've got a promotion haven't you? You're leaving me."
Tommy was pleased with the hint of fear and panic in her voice. "No, the opposite."
"You've been demoted?" she asked incredulously.
"No! It's not about work, it's about you and I, as people."
"We're coppers, not people." She sounded nervous. "Will you just tell me what's wrong Sir?"
Tommy put his empty cup onto the roof of his car. He then leant in and gently kissed her. She shoved him away. "What the hell are you doing?"
It was not the reaction he had expected but he could understand that after ten years together it was logical. "I realised last night I'm in love with you."
All the colour drained from Barbara's face before it flushed a furious puce. She started to climb back in his car. "From your dream? You have a nightmare then think it's okay to say that! You are a fool Sir. Now drive to Canterbury or we'll be late." She slammed the car door in his face.
Tommy stammered an apology. When he drove off their cups flew off the roof littering the ground and he felt guilty. He tried again. "Barbara, I'm sorry. I honestly thought that you might...respond differently."
"You mean fall into your arms like every other woman does. No, I am not your comfort woman Sir. I deserve more respect."
Tommy could not help but feel angry. She had completely misread his motives. "And you have it. That had nothing to do with comfort or even sex. Did you hear the part where I said I am in love with you?"
"Yeah, I also heard the part where you said you realised last night. How do suddenly wake up from a nightmare and go 'oh, I love Barbara'? Love comes slowly, it creeps up on you until it overwhelms you. You don't dream it up!"
"It has crept up on me slowly and I don't think it matters when you realise as long as you realise."
"I don't want to discuss it any more. I accept your apology for kissing me. Now just drive."
The next few days were hell for Tommy. Barbara had been professional but cool towards him and work had consumed every minute of their day. He had not been alone with her since the drive down to Canterbury and he was beginning to think she was engineering it that way.
The case finally wrapped up and all the paperwork was completed. Tommy decided to ask Barbara to the pub to talk but when he went to her desk she had gone. He grabbed his coat and checked the pubs they frequented but she was not to be found. He drove slowly past her flat but there were no lights on. He cursed and thumped his hand on the steering wheel then drove home.
He sat in his favourite Chesterfield chair toying with his phone. He took another sip of whiskey then typed his message.
We need to talk.
He watched anxiously for a response. It was ten minutes and two whiskies before it arrived.
No we don't. Everything's fine.
It's not. May I come over?
No, I'm exhausted.
I'm sorry - about everything. Sleep well.
There was no reply.
