Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply.

The small puddle of light from Tommy's keyring torch jiggled far too much for Barbara to feel confident about her footfall. "Try to keep it steadier," she grumbled at him as they crept cautiously along the slippery path lined with stones and rusting hoops that defined the once neat rows of graves.

"Sorry, I'm trying not to trip over," he whispered back.

"That makes two of us but I can't see a damned thing."

"It's very Dickensian isn't it?"

"If that means dark and foggy then yeah."

Tommy stifled a laugh. "Truth is the torch that gleams through the fog without dispelling it."

"What?"

"Helvetius. He was an eighteenth century French philosopher."

"You're not here with Stuart!" she chided. "You quote French philosophers when we're wet and cold and traipsing through a cemetery. Not to mention hungry."

"When are you not hungry Havers?"

"When I'm sitting by a warm fire in the pub with a pint and a bowl of chips." She slipped but caught herself in time to not tumble to the ground.

Tommy paused and shone his paltry light in a slow circle around them. To the left were tall, gloomy monuments topped with angels and saints; to the right was the utilitarian Methodist uniformity of modest, low rectangular headstones. Like so many old graveyards around the city, creepers and undergrowth were strangling the memorials as it was being returned to nature. The wind caught the tendrils of dancing vines which, silhouetted against the fog, reminded Tommy of arms reaching from the Underworld to drag him down to their realm. He shivered and tried to focus. "Row G," he said quietly, "should be on the Anglican side."

They walked carefully along the gravel path as they searched the row markers. "CC, we are getting closer," he said when a triangular brass plaque caught the light of his dimming torch.

"Closer? We still have nearly fifty rows!"

"More or less." His torch flickered then died.

"Turn it back on," she insisted.

"I can't. The battery has died." Tommy could not see her but he knew exactly the expression he was being given. "Sorry but it was your idea to come in here tonight."

"What? You're blaming me now? How was I supposed to know this fog'd roll in?"

"I'm not blaming anyone Barbara. I'm merely pointing out that this predicament is not entirely of my making either."

Tommy's eyesight slowly adjusted to the gloom. He could just make out the gap between the eerie shapes of death. It must be the path. Without warning flapping wings swept over them. Emitting a startled yelp Barbara stumbled and fell.

"Arghh," she cried as her hand disappeared into soft earth up to her wrist. "I landed on a fresh one."

"Don't be melodramatic Havers. No one's been buried here in over seventy years. You were just spooked by the bats. Here take my hand and I'll help you up."

She was on her knees. The damp ground seeped through her jeans as she felt around the shape of the tilled earth. "Well try telling that to this bloke. There's a mound of soil here in the shape of a grave."

Tommy crouched on his haunches to feel the ground, carefully avoiding dirtying his tailored trousers. "Barbara you're right!"

"And?" she insisted.

"And?" he asked with slight exasperation wondering what she expected.

"Try I'm sorry I doubted you. Or I'm sorry I thought you were being hysterical."

"Don't be so sensitive Havers. For what it's worth, I'm sorry. Can you find any more?"

"Would you like me to crawl through the entire graveyard?"

"Don't be impractical."

"Then stop asking for miracles. How can we effectively find anything in this fog?"

"Point taken. We should come back in the morning." He stood and started to move away.

Barbara struggled to her feet. "Where are you?" she hissed.

"Here."

"Where's here exactly?"

"Here, over here! Take my hand." He waved his hand impatiently in the direction of her voice. The fog was getting heavier. Every breath was becoming colder and thicker.

Her searching hand finally touched his and they gripped each other loosely. "Can you drown in fog?" she asked, echoing his thoughts.

"You'd have to ask Stuart," he replied curtly. He was tired after a long week and would prefer to be in his lounge room sipping whiskey and listening to good music.

Her hand tightened around his fingers. "Ah, good idea Sir! Your phone will have a light for us to see something."

He shook his head at her logic as he dug his phone from his pocket. Drops of heavy rain plopped ominously around them. "Oh how joyous, now it is going to bloody rain!"

Barbara was surprised that he had sworn. She knew he was exhausted and had driven them both hard trying to prove their suspect was a serial killer when there were no bodies, only a list of missing housewives whose windows had recently been cleaned by their target. She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "We passed a family vault earlier that had a wide porch. Perhaps we should shelter there until the storm passes. Hopefully the rain will clear this pea-souper."

"Good idea Barbara and...I'm sorry I'm grumpy."

"No more than usual," she said loudly over the increasing sound of the rain. "Hurry!"

Tommy's phone gave just enough light to see the path. Holding hands tightly they crunched over the uneven gravel as they ran through the storm. Lightening struck a craggy oak ahead of them. They stopped. The cemetery was washed with blue light and the monuments seemed to come alive casting macabre shadows on the ground near their feet.

Barbara crushed his hand and they ran on. The shadowy mausoleum quickly came into view. They raced towards it then ducked between the heavy doric columns and stood close to the cold bronze door. "Creepy but dry," Barbara panted with relief.

Tommy reluctantly let her hand go. She sat down with her back to the door. He sank next to her with a heavy sigh. "Hopefully only a short storm."

Barbara did not have the heart to say the forecast had been for three days of heavy autumn rain as the result of some hot air mass meeting the cold arctic waters. "Yeah, we'll be home before you know it."

They sat silently listening to the rain. In the distance crows cawed amid the thunder. An owl hooted from the denuded limbs of a nearby amber and the scattered leaves on the ground crackled as they blew around or, Barbara feared, where disturbed by small animals. She could only see a vague outline of the man slumped next to her. He exuded an exhaustion that was far beyond physical, or even emotional, fatigue. His soul seemed heavy.

"What?" he asked, "you're staring at me. I can feel it. What's on your mind?"

"You seem tired Sir."

"I am," he sighed, "we both are."

"Yeah but this is different. You haven't had leave for a while. Maybe you should get away somewhere after this case."

"There's no point. I can't get away from myself can I?"

"Sir?"

"Sorry. I have been thinking a lot lately about my life; where it's headed, what I should do."

Barbara was shocked by his quick admission. She had not known he was contemplating any life changes. "I see," she replied more harshly than she had intended, "any conclusions?"

"None. I am good at this job. I value working with you. I don't really want to change that. I just need something more."

Barbara suddenly felt very cold. She shivered almost violently at the thought of losing Tommy. "Brrr!"

Tommy felt her thin jacket. "You're soaked through! Take that jacket off."

She struggled out of her coat thinking that this would only make it worse. Tommy put his arm around her and pulled her into his side inside his heavy serge overcoat. She instantly felt flushed as her wet blouse dampened Tommy's shirt creating the illusion of skin on skin. She was not going to refuse an opportunity to hold him. Guiltily she slipped her arm around his front in a gesture that she hoped was not too forward and could be mistaken for an attempt to get warm.

"Better?" he asked as he ran his hand up and down her arm.

"Much, thank you Sir."

They sat quietly again for several minutes. "Do you ever get lonely Barbara? Achingly lonely where you'd do anything just to feel someone cared?"

She snuggled closer hoping it told him he was never alone. "No, because I'm not alone. Someone cares. If I rang and said I needed them they'd come, wouldn't they?"

Tommy returned her hug. "Yes, they would."

"Well Sir, if they needed me I'd be there too."

Tommy wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her closer. "Oh Barbara I know. And I appreciate that more than you know but don't you ever want more? Someone you can hold in your arms night after night. Someone who will listen to your breathing as you sleep and keep you safe. Someone you can love."

It was tempting to reply that she loved him but Barbara was not about to embarrass either of them. Her boss was not the type of man who could be alone. His loving friendship was enough to sustain her but his words had been true, he longed for a physical relationship. "When the time is right you'll find her Sir."

"Hmmm. I wonder." Tommy sat contemplating his loneliness. Just holding Barbara like this was comforting; imagine what being in love again would be like. Despite the cold and the fog and the cracked concrete under his tail he felt more peaceful than he had in many months, if not years. Tommy concluded it was just the warmth of Barbara's body that had triggered ideas and desires that he should not contemplate about his friend. He was lonely and needed to find love. "I think you're right. I should start seeing women again."

"Okay," she mumbled sleepily. She ignored the implication that she would lose him. Instead she thought only about his arms around her and the sound of his heartbeat. That was enough for tonight.

When Barbara woke with the first tentative rays of dawn she was still tucked under Tommy's arm. She sighed; half through contentment and the other half a sense of inevitable loss. "Morning."

"Good morning Barbara. Sleep well?"

"Surprisingly so. You?"

"Well enough," he said as he started to release her and sit up. He was not going to tell her he had stayed awake all night, ostensibly to keep them safe. In reality he had been indulging in the tranquility he felt holding her close despite the chaos of the storm raging around him. Barbara always calmed him in a way no one else could. He just wished they could both find love. They both deserved to have someone who could make them feel this serene.

They stretched aching muscles and swung their arms to get feeling back into their fingers. "We should go back and check on that grave you found and then call in forensics."

By half past eight the cemetery was invaded by teams of forensic scientists wielding machetes to hack through the vegetation as they searched for graves. Three white tents had already been erected and Tommy knew there would be at least another four. "You look dead on your feet Sir," Barbara told him as she handed him a cup of coffee that she had acquired from one of the SOCOs. "Why don't you go home for a few hours? They'll be here for a while yet."

Tommy gratefully sipped his coffee. He put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick hug. "We're a good team Barbara. Thank you."

Six weeks later the case was being wrapped up ready for prosecution. In all nineteen bodies had been located across the cemetery. "He's been at it for years," Tommy said with disgust.

"Well we have him now. DNA evidence and all. He won't be cleaning any more rich windows' widows."

Tommy laughed. "Or widows' windows even?"

"Do you fancy a pint?"

"I do but I can't. I am meeting someone."

Barbara felt her face flush but she tried to stay nonchalant. "Okay. Anyone I know?"

"Actually Maree from Vice."

Barbara disliked the woman intensely; not just because the Inspector had legs like a giraffe but because she was always so condescending towards 'my favourite little frump'. If the woman called her Sergeant Dowdy one more time Barbara did not think she could be held responsible for her actions. "Well enjoy it," she said tonelessly as she picked up her bag and headed for the door. "I hope she gives you a horrible STD," she mumbled inaudibly as she stormed from the room.

Barbara never mentioned his date and neither did Tommy. Two weeks later he informed her he needed to leave early to meet up with Jennifer. "Who's Jennifer?"

"A woman I met at a cafe last week. We've been out twice already. She seems companionable."

"Companionable? It must be serious," she said sarcastically. "What happened to Maree?"

"She wasn't for me," he said flatly. He would spare Barbara details of the argument they had had when she had asked how he put up with his styleless, artless sergeant. He could never trust anyone who did not like Barbara.

"I'm glad. You need someone who understands you Sir, not just someone attracted to your good looks, money and title."

Tommy had not missed the curl of her lips. Barbara was pleased Maree was history. "Jennifer is a dentist. I haven't mentioned my title to her yet."

"I hope it works out for you," she said sincerely.

It was another month before they discussed his love life again. They had been at the pub all afternoon with Winston and Stuart who had been teasing him about the tall brunette he had seen him with a few nights before. "I've been out with about twenty women in the last few months but none that I want to form a relationship with," Tommy told them.

"You're looking in the wrong spot," Winston mumbled earning him a rebuking look from Stuart.

"Twenty? And you can't find a woman that suits? Maybe no one will ever meets your standards. Or maybe you already know her." Now Winston raised his eyes at the pathologist who nodded, almost imperceptibly, at Barbara.

"I'm not that hard to please Stuart," Tommy snapped. "I consider myself a reasonable man with modest tastes. He noticed Barbara had stopped talking and was staring into her glass. Her knuckles were white where she was gripping it too hard.

"So what are you after in Wonder-Woman?" Stuart asked mischievously.

Tommy hesitated as he considered the question. "I'm not sure you can define it but I need someone who challenges me intellectually and is not afraid to speak their mind; someone passionate about something in their life, like their profession or a cause; a woman strong enough to cope with my family and my private world; and most of all a person who is loyal and listens to me, who can make me feel special and loves me unconditionally, as if I'm the only man in the world they could ever love."

Winston and Stuart both looked at Barbara who tried hard not to make eye contact. "Time I went," she said. Listening to the male oriented dissection of Tommy's love interests was too much. She wanted to shout at him, tell him that she loved him but of course she never would. She would go home and try not to imagine him in bed with one of his plethora of eager women.

"Good night Barbara," Tommy said as he stood to let her squeeze past, "would you like me to take you home?"

Winston and Stuart began to snigger and Barbara's face flushed. "No, I'll be fine. Thank you. Good night." She fled the pub as fast as she could hoping that Tommy, as always, was completely oblivious to her feelings for him.

Tommy sat and stared into his beer. Barbara had been uneasy about him discussing his love life. He had allowed Stuart to goad him into being boorish. "We made Barbara uncomfortable."

"I wonder why?" Stuart replied sarcastically. Tommy tilted his head and frowned. "Your description man, who does it remind you of?"

Tommy thought about then grimaced. "Oh! You don't think Barbara thought I was describing her in any way? I mean there are aspects of her character that I do admire in a woman but I would never be so crass. I mean...she's my friend, someone I respect."

"Are respect and love mutually exclusive?"

"Of course not! I just hope she wasn't offended. Maybe I should go after her."

Stuart nodded. "I think you should but not for the reason you think."

"I don't understand." Tommy was genuinely perplexed. It seemed as if Stuart thought he was attracted to Barbara.

Winston took a deep breath. "With respect Sir for an intelligent man sometimes you haven't got a clue."

Tommy sensed the two men were mocking him. It annoyed him that they assumed he and Barbara had feelings for each other beyond the platonic love of a deep and enduring friendship. Their colleagues did not understand their bond. It was unique; special. It could not be labelled but it was not sexual; not really. His thoughts about kissing her that night in the cemetery had been an aberration, just a product of tiredness, loneliness and circumstance. "I think I'll go home too. See you tomorrow."

He could not settle. Three whiskeys failed to ease his restlessness. He was worried about the conversation at the pub. Barbara had clearly been distressed and he knew he should have gone after her. She would forgive his poor manners but he had not meant to hurt her. She meant far too much to him to ever do that. He remembered the night in the cemetery and how he had felt with Barbara tucked into his side. He had felt calm and unassailable. To a large extent it was that feeling he was trying to emulate in his search for love. The guilt gnawed at him until shortly before midnight he called a cab.

"Sir!" Barbara was struck by a feeling of deja vu as she opened her door to her boss. He looked anxious and if she did not know better, scared. "Come in."

Tommy followed her into her small flat and sat awkwardly on the edge of her couch between her laundry and an abandoned dinner tray. "I'm sorry to come over so late. Did I wake you?"

Barbara stood behind the chair opposite him. "No, I wasn't really asleep. Do you want a drink?"

"Nightcap?"

Barbara found a clean tumbler and poured him a large whiskey. "What's wrong Sir?" she asked as she handed him the drink. Their fingers touched and they both looked at each other with startled eyes.

Tommy lowered his head away from her gaze. "I came to apologise for what happened tonight."

Barbara was tired and had been asleep. Now her thoughts were slow and she was puzzled by what he meant. She moved and sat in the chair. "What happened?"

"At the pub, when Stuart was discussing my...women."

Barbara snorted derisively. "Oh that. You should date whoever you like. Ignore Stuart."

"Yes but I didn't want you to think...badly...about what I said."

"Why would I?"

"I wanted to assure you that I respect you."

"You came over here at midnight to tell me that? I know you respect me."

"After you left Stuart pointed out that my description fitted some of your characteristics and I didn't want to offend you."

"Why would that offend me?" This was a conversation Barbara did not want to have now, if ever. She yawned hoping he might take the hint and leave. "There's no need to apologise."

"I didn't want you to think that I was harbouring untoward feelings for you."

Barbara knew he was trying to be honourable and reassuring but his words were like a stake through her heart. "No, I know," she said coolly, "no one like you could ever love someone like me. Thanks for coming over to tell me."

"No, that sounds awful. Of course someone like me could love you. You're a wonderful person; the most caring friend I have ever had but Barbara I'm trying to explain that I did not mean to hurt you tonight. I cherish our friendship. I don't want you to think that I thought that you fancied me. I know you don't feel that way."

Barbara raised her eyebrows. It seemed he understood nothing. "This is a pointless discussion Sir. We are all quite clear that your description excludes me. I don't, and didn't by the way, have any false hope or expectations. Now Sir I think you should go home and get some sleep. You need your strength for your next...case."

"Barbara, this feels wrong. You're angry with me. Is it because Stuart and Winston were implying I have feelings for you?"

"No, just the opposite. I'll see you tomorrow. See yourself out." She walked with as much dignity as she could muster to her bedroom and closed the door. She slid down the wood onto the floor and began to cry. She clamped her mouth around her forearm hoping the soft material of her dressing gown would mute her anguish.

Tommy knocked softly on her bedroom door then tried the handle. The door was unlocked but blockaded. "Barbara? Tell me what I've done? I can see I shouldn't have come here. I've made everything worse but I don't understand."

"For a man with your education sometimes you haven't got a clue about people."

Tommy sat down and leant against the door. "Winston said the same thing."

"He's a perceptive man. So are you; I'm sure you'll work it out...eventually. Now just go home Sir."

"I can't have my only real friend angry with me. Not like this anyway. I much prefer it when you shout at me and tell me why I'm a fool."

"I'm not angry."

"Then why are you hiding in there? Open the door Barbara. Please. I won't leave until I see you."

"Then you'll be uncomfortable sitting up all night."

"Last time I sat up all night you fell asleep."

"When?"

"At the cemetery."

"You sat up all night?"

"I wanted to keep you safe and..." In the dark hallway Tommy confused thoughts and speech. "I enjoyed the comfort of you in my arms. It was a rare moment of serenity...you make me feel lov..."

Tommy heard a muffled cry come from behind the door. He stood and tried to open it. Pressure on the door was released and he stumbled into the room. Barbara stood by her bed looking away from him. "I...I...oh Barbara."

"What?"

"Winston was right. I've been looking in the wrong places for something that I already had under my nose."

"Don't Sir...just don't. Not until you know what you want."

"I think I do know."

"Do you? Do you think you can just decide to be in love? It doesn't work that way. It's overwhelming, you can't stop it no matter how illogical it is or how much you want to or even how hard you try."

"How long have you been in love with me?"

It made no sense to lie. He would see it in her eyes anyway. "From that first case in Yorkshire. I knew for sure when you had my parent's house painted."

"You hated me for that! And you were right, it was arrogant."

"It showed you cared...about me. Even as a friend it was enough but I couldn't help how I felt. I'm sorry." Barbara sat on the edge of her bed.

Tommy moved over and sat beside her. "Don't be. I did care. I do care. I think I care more than I realised." His arm came around her.

"No Sir, you don't. If you did you would have known. This just your ego liking the idea that someone loves you."

"No, it's not. I did know. I just ignored it all, buried it under the veil of our partnership, our friendship. I wanted you to be free of your guilt. That's why I had the house painted. I wanted to rescue you; have you for myself. I told myself you would be free to focus on work but I wanted your attention...without distraction."

"You understood me or at least made the effort and I came to understand you. That's why I knew we'd never work. You need so much more than me."

"I thought I did but I was wrong. I just needed the way you cared about me; the way you defended me. When I look back I never wanted to share you. I hated it when we worked apart. I was jealous of Azhar, and Fiona Knight because you liked them and I thought they might take you from me. I hated it when you used that dating agency because you were looking for someone else. And yet I never questioned why I didn't want to share you. I never asked if I was in love with you. I just told myself that not being able to live without you was normal."

"If you really were in love Sir you would have known," she replied sadly, "love's not subtle, it hits you like a sledgehammer. You loved Deborah and Helen, not me." She struggled out of his grip. "Now Sir, I think you should go and we will never discuss this again."

Barbara stood and marched to the door which she held open for him. Tommy stood to leave frantically thinking what he could say that would convince her. He had a hundred logical arguments that he could put but he knew she would never believe him. So he did the only thing he could. As he passed her he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He was gentle but insistent. At first she resisted but as his lips caressed her he sensed a change until she was kissing him hard. He had kissed many women, far too many, over the years but none had ever kissed him like Barbara.

Her boss was so predictable. She had known he would kiss her. She did not believe that he loved her but she did believe that at this moment he thought he did. This was her one chance to feel his lips on hers; to have him in a way she would never have him again. The softness of his lips and the loving way they pressed against her made her hesitate. If she kissed him properly she might never recover from the loss. His body pressed against her and she ignored reason. She kissed him hard coaxing his lips apart, demanding that he deepen the kiss. As their tongues touched for the first time Barbara shivered. It felt as if she had been struck by lightening and her heart had stopped. She felt Tommy groan.

Until that kiss Tommy had always thought of kissing as a form of foreplay, an expression of physical desire. Barbara's kiss was deeply sensual but instead of wanting to progress this to a sexual end Tommy felt it was an end in itself. Barbara was making love to his soul, not his body, and for the first time ever he understood love. He wanted more but he also wanted to love her back with as much honesty and commitment.

She slowly kissed him backwards. His knees gave way against the bed and they tumbled onto it, their lips never parting. Gradually they edged their way up the bed. Tommy's lips ached joyfully but he did not move them away as he cuddled her even closer to him. He never wanted this feeling to end.

Barbara had known the exact point several minutes earlier that Tommy had finally understood. His kiss changed subtly but importantly as if they had merged into one entity. But she had to be sure. She had to offer him one last chance to change his mind. "You should go," she whispered, "before I give in to this."

"No, I should stay." He kissed her with such intensity that he thought he might die.

"You have to sure Tommy."

"I am Barbara. I am am staying," he kissed her again, "forever."