Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply. Pure fluff for your Easter. And this was written before I read Tess's latest, so any similarities are purely co-incidental.

THURSDAY

Tommy glanced out of his window. Snow was still falling, and the wind was unrelenting. He sighed and refocused on his pile of papers. Within ten minutes he had stopped again. His heart was not in it. He picked up his mobile and spun it between his fingers. He sighed. He knew he would dial the number.

"Havers."

He smiled as her familiar brusqueness. "Lynley," he said with a chuckle.

"Case?"

She certainly was not wasting any words today. "No."

"So...?" Tommy did not answer so Barbara continued, "how can I help you, Sir?"

"I thought maybe this afternoon you might like to do something. We could go to the Zoo perhaps?"

"The Zoo? I suppose the sun is shining on the privileged of Belgravia, but here we're under an inch of snow. Why do you want to go to the zoo in this weather? Actually, why do you want to go at all?"

At least his suggestion had prompted more than a 'no'. "Because I'm bored."

"And what am I, Sir? Your babysitter?"

"No. I thought you might enjoy it," he protested.

"And what am I? Five? Don't you have a young relative you can show the nice elephants to?"

"No." Tommy heard Barbara sigh. It made him smile thinking of her rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "Would you like to come over here then?" he asked.

"What, like a play date?"

Tommy laughed. "Something like that."

"Invite the peasant to keep the rich kid entertained."

"No. It's not like that."

"Then you come here and help with my housework."

Tommy frowned. "Ahh..."

"Thought so. Go watch a movie or read a book. We've got six glorious days off. You can't be bored on the morning of Day 1. Now, I should get back to my vacuuming."

"Well, if you change your mind."

"If I suddenly have an irresistible urge to visit the meerkats, you'll be the first person I call. Now goodbye."

"Dinner maybe?" he quickly said before she could ring off.

"Do you ever give up?"

"No."

Barbara made a noise halfway between a sigh and a groan. "I'm going to hang up now."

Tommy knew from her tone that she meant it. "We'll talk later then."

"Yeah, righto. See ya." There was a pause. "Ring me later if you're still bored." The line went dead.

Tommy put his phone in his pocket and smiled. Even irritable she was funny and rather endearing. He grabbed his jacket and keys and headed for the door. Just before he closed the door, he dashed back to his utility room and opened a cupboard. A little housework would not hurt him.

"Sir?" Barbara had been joking, but now her boss was standing on her doorstep holding an orange lambswool feather duster as if it were a rose he was giving her. She shook her head.

"I can dust," he announced.

Barbara tried not to laugh. He looked earnest, but she would wager he had never dusted anything in his life. "Good to know. Now you're here, you had better come in," Barbara said as she stood aside to let him pass. "Every earl should know how to dust. All that armour in the galleries and polo trophies don't dust themselves."

Tommy grinned at her. It was unnerving. "That's why any earl worth his salt pays a cleaner."

"Argh!" Barbara took his coat. She stroked it softly before hanging it over hers on the hook by the door. "Coffee?" He shrugged. She lowered her eyes in a 'don't mess me about' way. "I'm about to make one."

"Then, yes, thank you. I would like a coffee."

"Were you really that bored that you had to drive through snow just to dust my knick-knacks?" Tommy grinned at her, this time adding raised eyebrows. Barbara realised the alternative meaning and tried not to let her face go red. She failed.

"No, I... missed you."

"Me?" Barbara frowned at him. "You only saw me last night when we had a pint after work."

Tommy shrugged. "That was a long time ago. So, where do I start?"

Barbara narrowed her gaze and watched him shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She pushed a cup of steaming instant coffee across the bench. "Why not start by telling me why 14 hours is suddenly such a long time?"

Tommy took the coffee and grinned. "I meant where do I start with the dusting. I don't see any armour or polo trophies in here."

"I keep them at my pile in the country. I have a lovely mansion in Cornwall I retreat to when I get bored."

Tommy laughed. "I suppose I deserved that."

"Hmm. Probably not. If you want to help, I haven't taken the books off the shelves and cleaned them for... hmm, since I moved in..."

"That was years ago."

"I've been busy."

"Do you have a cloth to wipe them with?"

"You are thorough. Yeah, somewhere, but you avoided my question. Why do you need company?"

Her boss looked at her in a way that made no sense. "I'm used to having you around."

Two hours later Barbara had finished her bathroom and came back into the lounge room. She pulled off her rubber glove with a snap that made Tommy jump.

"Is that all you've done?"

"I started reading some of them."

"Some were Dad's. He won them as prizes at school. He was smarter than you'd think but his family needed money, so he left school early."

"Why would I assume he would not be intelligent? You are."

"Me? Nah, just street smart. So, are you still bored?"

"No. I enjoyed helping, and I have dusted and wiped them all and polished the shelves. I haven't just been reading. What did you have in mind?"

Barbara looked at the clock. It was just after noon. "Lunch. Pub maybe?"

"Sure." She grabbed the back of her couch when Tommy gave her a smile that made her legs tremble. Maybe lunch was a bad idea.

"This was a wonderful idea," Tommy said as he dabbed his chin with his serviette.

"A bit more than the quick pub lunch I had in mind."

Tommy had insisted they try an establishment he had read about recently in one of his upmarket magazines. Located up a narrow walkway in the heart of the city, Barbara had expected the small pub to be pretentious. Instead, the ten-foot-wide building where they had to squeeze past the bar to reach the row of narrow tables was a revelation. The quick fish and chips over a pint she had planned had morphed into an afternoon of feasting on fresh oysters followed by a succulent, melt-in-the-mouth steak accompanied by crispy, thick cut chips and finished with plates of chocolate treats and ice creams handmade on the premises.

"But you enjoyed it?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah, of course. But after that, dinner might be a boiled egg and soldiers."

"Would you like another pint?"

Barbara shook her head. "Nah, better not. I have to take out a personal loan to pay for that steak as it is."

"My shout."

"Sir, you know..."

Tommy held up his hand. "I'm not disrespecting you. This was my suggestion, so my shout. You can pay tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? It's Good Friday. Nothing will be open."

"Then we can stop at Sainsburys on the way home, and you can buy whatever you plan to cook me tomorrow."

"Sainsburys? Why not go straight to Harrods? They probably have nice quail this time of year." Barbara finished her sentence with a snort.

Tommy smiled. "Harrods don't stock sliced white bread."

Barbara lowered her eyes. "Are you suggesting all I can cook is toast?"

Her boss shrugged. "With a side of underwear."

She wanted to reach across and wipe the supercilious grin off his face. Trouble was she could not decide whether to do that with a slap or a kiss. She felt her face going red again. She would feign anger. "Right. I will. Lunch or dinner?"

Tommy's smile lit up his entire face. "Lunch, I think."

"You're on. Come over about noon for 12:30. Now, you can drop me at the Asda near my flat."

It was another two hours before they left the pub. They had started chatting about her flat and moving her refrigerator, and reminiscing about old times. Before they knew it, they had ordered another pint. Then another.

"I really should go. Asda closes at six tonight. Otherwise, it will be toast."

"I don't mind."

"I do."

Tommy paid and they drove to Chalk Farm. "Just drop me here and I'll walk."

"I can park and carry the groceries."

"No." He looked disappointed. "That will spoil the surprise," she added gently.

He nodded and pulled over. "Alright. Noon tomorrow then."

Barbara got out of the car and stood looked back at him. "Yeah. And thanks for today. Helping with the dusting and lunch. I... really enjoyed it."

He beamed at her. "I enjoyed it too."

"Yeah... well, goodnight, Sir."

"Goodnight, Barbara. Sleep well."

Barbara felt oddly sad to watch him drive away. The day had been fun. Good food, better company and a chance to just relax and be themselves. Tommy was an excellent companion when he was not brooding about his life. She sighed. "What the hell am I going to cook you, Lord Asherton?"

On the way to Asda, Barbara stopped at the local delicatessen run by an Italian family. She occasionally bought a tub of their pasta when she was too tired to even heat up a microwave meal. The old man looked up from his paper. "Buona sera!"

"Bonner sara, Antonio."

"And how can I helpa today? I have a bootiful pesto penne."

"Oh, no, I'm full. I need something foolproof to cook my boss tomorrow for lunch. I want it to be..."

"Impressive?"

"Yeah, but not too much. I'll settle for edible."

Antonio laughed. "This Boss, he important?"

"He likes to think so."

"But you lika him?"

Barbara frowned. "Yeah, of course."

Antonio tapped the side of his nose. "No, you really lika him, eh?"

Barbara felt her face starting to warm. "Maybe. But that doesn't affect what I cook."

Antonio shook his head. "Ah, Bella, of course it do. You musta cook witha the love."

"It's not like that," she said hastily. "We're just friends."

"Then cook him something from Asda."

"Antonio."

The man tossed his head. "You commer here, you wanta food of love." He turned and winked at her.

Barbara sighed. "Yeah. But it has be idiotproof."

Antonio beamed at her and nodded as he patted his corpulent stomach. "I selecta myself. No fuss, but he will want more of you."

"Antonio!"

"Ah, my English not so good. He wanta more of your cooking. Maybe everyday..." he said with a wink.

Fifteen minutes later, Barbara had all her ingredients and a free bottle of Chianti that Antonio insisted would free their spirits.