Author's note: As always I have borrowed Tommy and Barbara from the BBC and Elizabeth George.

This tale has some dark themes which justifies its M rating but please persevere beyond the first few paragraphs to the final chapter. I would be keen to know your thoughts / reactions. Whilst in some ways many of you might consider it "jumping the shark" it was inspired by the hysteria last year in London around a similar subject matter. I just had to put Tommy and Barbara in the centre of it and make it kinky enough to be interesting.

If you don't like it don't give up on me as my next story is much more typical.

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In all his years as a forensic pathologist Stuart Lafferty had never faced a more troubling post mortem. He usually liked to listen to music while he worked to give him a sense of connection to the living world but today he wanted to indulge in the misery and pain that for him silence evoked. The corpse on his table had been subjected to the tides and mud of the Thames for what he estimated was close to four days. The seabirds had picked extensively at the flesh, especially around the softer exposed skin. A face without eyes or flesh was no longer a face and depersonalised the autopsy which was sometimes mercifully easier but not today where it added immeasurably to his melancholy. Identification would require use of dental records and perhaps DNA, but from the height and build of the body and the straggly mess of reddish hair Stuart believed he already knew who lay before him.

Stuart struggled to keep Lynley from entering the morgue. As Detective Inspector, Tommy Lynley had been Detective Sergeant Havers' partner for over ten years and it was natural that he was distressed and wanted to see her. Lafferty understood that he needed closure; he needed to see for himself that it was Barbara. He also knew that seeing the body would destroy the last tendrils of Lynley's sanity. Stuart had often suspected that they loved each other deeply and Tommy's behaviour the last few days confirmed it leaving Lafferty saddened that they had never seen what was so obvious to others.

"At least wait until I confirm it's her," he entreated, "the body has extensive injuries caused by the fall from the bridge and time in the water. If it's her she wouldn't want you to remember her like that, she would want you to remember her as the feisty, intelligent and supportive person we knew."

Tommy was so distraught he did not know what to do or say. The voice was a distant noise as he swayed aimlessly in front of Stuart, running his hand through his unkempt hair. He felt helpless and hopeless. He wanted to shout and blame someone but there was no one he could accuse except perhaps himself. He dreaded confirmation it was Barbara but he also had to know. He rubbed his face slowly with both hands in a vain attempt to wake from the nightmare. Standing here in a place he had been with her so often he felt unclean. It was not just that he had been so busy looking everywhere for her that he had not shaved and had barely washed; he had failed her and was unworthy.

These last four days had been the worst of his life, not knowing what had happened and why she had just disappeared. Now she was, in all likelihood, lying lifeless and bloated on a cold metal table, having jumped from Tower Bridge. It made no sense to him and his mind reeled with all the things he had said or neglected to say that may have led her to such a dark place. She had left no note that he could find, no phone message, no text; no clue as to what had gone so wrong. Barbara was volatile and emotional but underneath it she had a cool clarity about life. She had found a balance that had suited her and was the last person he had thought would ever suicide.

He rushed for the door trying to claw it open to go to her. Detective Constable Nkata helped Lafferty restrain him. Winston was as confused and devastated as the others but he was trying to stay strong. Barbara would have wanted him to look after Lynley. He dragged Lynley away and steered him outside leaving Lafferty to his grim task.

"It won't help Sir. She wouldn't want you tearing yourself apart."

"I can't believe it is her Winston," Tommy said softly, his anger and anxiety subsiding momentarily. Faced with the facts he had no reason for optimism but he could not believe she would leave him without at least some type of explanation. "If it was her I would know it, I would feel it. She is still out there somewhere and she needs me."

Winston frowned, not quite knowing what to say. They had scrutinised the CCTV footage over and over. Although it was grainy the woman, who had calmly climbed onto the Portland stone wall of the southern pier of the bridge and stood calmly for at least a minute before stepping off, did look like Barbara. It made no sense to any of them but it was hard to refute. Depression was an emotion Nkata thought was more likely to afflict the DI than Barbara but no one ever truly knew what it was like to walk in someone else's shoes. "I hope you are right Sir, I really do."

"Drop me off at the bridge please Winston. I want to be there when Lafferty rings."

Winston was doubtful. "Are you sure that's a good idea Sir?"

"I don't care if it's a good idea or not," Lynley snapped, "drop me there or I'll catch a cab. Either way I am going!"

They sat in silence as they drove until Nkata started to whistle. The look from Lynley silenced him mid-note. "Sorry Sir, I was just trying to stop myself thinking about it."

"It's okay Winston but I need to think about it." For Tommy not thinking about Barbara was a sacrilege.

"Do you have any idea why Sir? Of all people she would have told you."

"No I don't. I wish I did," Tommy said wistfully, "do we ever really know someone? Even our best friends or our husband or wives? We can all lie to others so effortlessly at times and appear happy but underneath our souls are being eaten away. T. S. Eliot summed it up well 'There will be time, there will be time, To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet'. Maybe she prepared her face well and fooled us, or we only saw what we wanted to see."

Nkata considered this but could not agree. "She was pretty open Sir, what you saw was what you got."

"But it doesn't mean that was the whole Barbara does it?" Tommy knew Barbara had demons that haunted her like everyone else; a grief over her brother's death that was never fully resolved, a lingering guilt about how she had treated her parents, a recognition that she had cut herself off from people. He also understood how life could become so overwhelming that escaping it seemed the only way. He remembered well the utter blackness and isolation that had once driven him to stand ready to jump. Corntel had talked him down with a glimpse of a better future but what if Barbara had come to believe what she had now was it, that there was nothing better. What if what she had was not enough? Tommy could understand that type of desolation, he felt it now.

Tommy thanked Winston and alighted near the Tower. He walked slowly up onto the pedestrian walkway on the western side of the bridge burdened by a gnawing self-condemnation that he could have been more to her. Perhaps if he had not been so comfortable in believing she would always be there for him, to salve his wounds; if he had risked declaring his love for her, then maybe that would have helped her. He had been too concerned that she would repel him to even try. If he had been less worried about his own ego, they might have both had a chance at true happiness. He was haunted by ifs and maybes as he walked to the centre of the bridge where the bascules meet and stared upriver towards the lights of a still bustling city. He could not reconcile how life could go on so normally when his life had stopped four days before.

Lynley fingered the envelope in his pocket, uncertain whether or not he should open it. It could not relate to events of the last week as she had given it to him when he had come back to work after Helen's death almost a year ago. He had left it locked in his desk but yesterday he retrieved it to carry with him in the hope it might provide some comfort. She had told him at the time that life could be snatched away so suddenly and she had wanted him to have something to ensure he understood her. He had assumed as she had no family it was instructions about her estate. Now he craved connection to her, any form of connection, and so as he inhaled to steady his nerves he slipped a finger under the flap of the envelope and steadily tore it open.

He was not expecting the sight of her small angular scrawl to affect him so deeply. He let out a doleful howl and sank down against the iron railing as a surge of intense loss convulsed through him. He had been in shock when Helen had died, gripped by numbness that had held firm for months. This was different; it was not numbness but an active visceral pain. Tommy's grief made him feel as if he was adrift in a raging river being buffeted against sharp and slippery rocks and headed inexorably towards the edge of the waterfall from which there was no coming back. He was frightened and alone and flailing pointlessly against the torrent and the only person who could understand was not here to save him. He looked back at her letter wishing that it offered salvation. Now that he had opened it he wanted to savour every word of her message to him regardless of how routine the contents. He would replay their conversations and fights over and over again to keep her near him but this might be the last new words from her, their last conversation.

Sir,

It seems such a cliché to say 'to be opened in the event of my death' but if you are reading this then for whatever reason I am dead but mercifully you are still very much alive.

The following pages contain all the details for my bank and solicitor. It should be no surprise that with no family I have left you everything. It is of insignificant value compared to your wealth but it is all I have and I know you will find a good cause for it. Perhaps donate it to whatever I died from, unless of course I get shot again!

Tommy could not help but to laugh at that. It seemed so typical of the self-deprecating but innately humorous Barbara that he loved so dearly, despite her class warfare issues.

It is more important for me to make sure you are going to cope. As I write it down it sounds big headed but you will struggle with my death. I know you will think about not going on, or not continuing in the Met. Make sure you stop that right now. Your family and the Met need you and you will find a reason to go on, just give yourself time to do it. In the meantime do it because I want you to. Oh and try to avoid finding solace in young women, I can't fix it this time!

Ouch! That parting shot wounded Tommy to realise how much she had been hurt by his actions. She had been right though, he had no interest in going on without her.

I am not good with talking about my feelings. I think you know how I feel anyway. Working with you all these years has been the highlight of my life. We have had our ups and downs but you have been my only real friend and that meant more to me than you will ever know. I am a better person for knowing you and I like to think you have been strengthened by knowing me.

It has always been too embarrassing to even think but given I will not know anything about it when you read this I can say it now, since my brother died you are the only person I have ever loved. It's a difficult thing to describe but it is like those Asian drawings of black and white. We sort of fit together and give each other a strength and beauty that alone we wouldn't have. I wish I had your education to know a good quote to explain it but the closest I come is the words to a song by Ronan Keating "When You Say Nothing At All' that sort of sums us up. My only regret is that I never told you. Although I am cringing writing this and hope it hasn't ruined any memories for you, I have to say it just once,

I love you Tommy!

Barbara

"I love you too Barbara!" Tommy was elated to read her words and re-read the last two paragraphs repeatedly. His face was split by a huge grin, the smile he only ever found for Barbara. He had never thought of Barbara being a romantic soul but as he reflected it made perfect sense. There was a lot more depth to her than he, and others, often credited.

The joy was fleeting as the paradox became clear. He would never be able to tell her how much he adored her. He would never hold her in his arms. He would never make love to her. They would never be together. He had no future. The blackness that surrounded him was not simply the absence of light. It was a living thing that stole his breath and energy. It was a weight that was slowly crushing him, pushing him deeper into himself and isolating him from all that was familiar. It was physical agony trying to breathe and his heart beat faster and harder trying to push oxygen to his reluctant brain. His thoughts jumbled in the maelstrom of his mind. Logic fought a wild and turbulent battle with absurdity and ending the torment became his only goal. A frigid rationality came with one sole idea. He walked to the southern pier and out to the landing above the stanchion. Tommy smoothed out the paper that he had unconsciously crumpled and took the pen from his pocket. In a neat loopy script he wrote his reply.

Barbara,

Your words made my heart soar. I love you with an intensity that I cannot understand and a passion that is destroying me with every breath I take. I understand why you want me to go on but I cannot, any more than I could stop my every thought being of you. Forgive me and if there is justice I will be with you very soon where my Yang can re-converge with your Yin.

Forever,

Tommy

He replaced it in the envelope and wrote Winston's name on the front. He typed draft texts on his phone to his mother, sister and brother and also one for Winston then removed his keys and wallet and placed them all neatly on the stone wall and waited. Once he had confirmation from Lafferty, he would send his messages then jump. It was simple, clean and symbolically united him with Barbara.

Time crawled and Tommy ran through her letter in his mind. The storm of emotion had subsided and he had a calmness and clarity he had not been able to achieve for days. Love was such a gloriously painful and contradictory emotion and he regretted that they had never found the rhythm of it. He was curious about the lyrics of the song. It had meant a great deal to Barbara and he wanted to understand it. He became fidgety and started to pace up and down as his thoughts begun to swing wildly again. Indecision and doubt returned. He had made his choice and he fought the impulse but it was in vain, he had to know. He snatched up his possessions and shoved them into his coat, none of them in the places they belonged. He raced from the bridge to the cab rank determined to hear the song before Lafferty called.

He left his front door ajar in his haste and pulled his laptop from his desk. He carefully typed in the title into his search engine. A link to the clip came up and he allowed his mouse to hover over the link before he clicked it. He had never thought he would be eager to listen to a love song selected by Barbara! The song played loudly and he smiled. It was not quite the sentimental, syrupy pop song that he had expected and the slight Irish lilt lent it a catchy individuality he found endearing. Listening to the lyrics he understood why it spoke to Barbara in the same way it was now touching him.

It's amazing how you
Can speak right to my heart.
Without saying a word
You can light up the dark.
Try as I may, I could never explain
What I hear when you don't say a thing.

The smile on your face
Lets me know that you need me.
There's a truth in your eyes
Saying you'll never leave me.
The touch of your hand says you'll catch me wherever I fall.
You say it best when you say nothing at all.

All day long I can hear
People talking out loud
But when you hold me near
You drown out the crowd
Try as they may, they can never define
What's been said between your heart and mine.

A tear fell onto his keyboard and he wiped furiously at his eyes. It could easily have been written about them and the unspoken language they shared. Barbara was right it did sum up their relationship perfectly. Tommy wept openly as he played it several times remembering smiles shared and looks exchanged. Barbara knew he loved her; now he understood the song he knew she had said as much in her letter. Sadly she had not realised that he knew it too. He sighed, still feeling lost and afraid but also free. He no longer wanted to jump. Once again she had rescued him and given him a lifeline to hold onto. Beautiful, magical, wonderful Barbara.

His phone buzzed; it was Stuart. Lynley stared at it before he swiped his thumb across the screen and brought it slowly up to his ear. "Lynley."