Author's usual notes and disclaimer: I don't own any of the original characters nor the original Inspector Lynley Mysteries – they belong to Elizabeth George and the BBC. I have borrowed the characters from the TV-Show and solely own the ideas of my stories and the developments I've let them go through.

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Author's note and summary: This story is not yet finished but I am forced to start publishing it in an evil psychological cunning way. It comes in very short chapters just to pay it back, Milady! ^_^

It is just an ordinary day after a solved crime. Really, is it? Let's see...

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Three Bullets

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[...laaast 'till the end of tiiiiiiime!]
[What the wooorld needs noooow is loooove, sweet lo-]

"Oh, the bloody shit you need!" Barbara grunted at her radio alarm when she hit the snooze-button. Groaning she dropped back onto her pillow and closed her eyes for a few minutes more. It was too early in the morning to bear such a syrupy piece of music and once again Barbara swore to herself that one day she would replace this radio with a simple buzzing alarm clock. Before the radio DJ would get the chance to annoy her with another stupid love song she heaved her tired body out of the cosiness of her bed and stopped the snooze timer. Barefeet she scuffled to the loo and then indulged in a nice long shower thinking about the previous case.

DS Barbara Havers and her boss DI Tommy Lynley had solved it in the end but it was another inglorious moment for her. Straight after the Thompson case they had to deal with a murder inside of a working class community. Barbara had let herself being twisted around the little finger by a cooking class teacher at the community centre. Although he had seemed to be helping the police wherever he could he turned out to be the one who had murdered the two boys. Very soon Lynley suspected that and Barbara did not. Later when they finally had too much evidence to put the teacher in the nick she would have understood if he would have said that he had told her so but he had not. He was a polite person, well-bred, highly educated, a real gentleman - one could expect all that from the 8th Earl of Asherton - but he also was her friend. They might be arguing a lot, even about minor things, but they always come to a conclusion or consensus and somehow the rest of their team probably expected loud words during their crime-solving. Annoyed by that a new Constable even had asked Winston if they were a married couple. Barbara chuckled about it while the water drippled across her face. Then she sighed - Lynley never would think of something close to that.

After the death of his wife he had his dark times away from the Met and even had been arrested as a suspect in a major crime case, and Barbara had helped him then although she rather would have hit him with something very solid. Now his Lordship was back in business and entirely his old self it seemed. Actually better than that, Barbara thought while she dried herself on the way back into her bedroom. With a small smile on her lips she remembered the previous evening when they were about to part in the parking lot. After asking him again to not tell her that he had told her so and declining an afterwork pint he had wished her a quiet night without too many thoughts but with a deep relaxing sleep. Lynley had put his arm around her shoulder and softly squeezed it with his cheek on the top of her head. He had done it a lot since he had finally returned to work and although it slightly disturbed her Barbara appreciated that.

"Until tomorrow then." he had said. "I look forward to seeing you. Happier."

Even now, when she only relived this memory, Barbara's heart skipped a beat. Deep inside she believed that her Cornish rock would always be there for her, even if she was again naively believing in some false friendship or else. Theirs in fact was real. Their friendship was deep and solid. Now more than ever. She sighed once more and firmly pushed the fridge door shut. Theirs also only was friendship and nothing more and she should forget what else she felt for him. Looksies, no feelsies! she reminded herself of the distance and the difference there was and would be forever.

The kettle clicked and she brew a quick instant coffee before she turned on the TV. The morning show with today's topic of her beloved crime series went on in the background during her routine in the kitchen - butter, bread, jam put ready onto the worktop, then another coffee. While Barbara waited for the toaster to finish burning her bread she tied her hair into a messy ponytail and yawned. Munching the toast could be done during her search for her shoes which were found halfway under her sofa where she had discarded them yesterday evening when she only had wanted a delivered pizza and a beer alone in front of the telly. It now showed some breaking news telling of another poor victim of the latest flood in Yorkshire and a bank-robbery in Oxford. Barbara only listened with one ear what the reporter then said about another unsuccessful bank-robbery here in London with the criminals still on the run. Since she had her own work to do and loads of paperwork about major crimes on her desk at the Met Barbara was not very interested in those stories. No murder meant no responsibility. She would have preferred being entertained by the enjoyable winking chatterbox that was her favourite actor. For a second she smugly thought that she should pimp her orange juice with a dash of vodka today but then her mobile buzzed.

As if he had read her thoughts Lynley called. "Morning, Sir." she lilted in a very good mood.

"Good morning, Barbara." He paused as if he was thinking about his next words. Barbara almost had asked if he had a good night but then decided it was not appropriate. "Are you already on your way to the office?"

"Almost, Sir. Do we have a new case?"

"Oh, good grief, no!" Lynley laughed. "I just called to say..." he paused again but Barbara did not mind. He eventually would go on talking and hearing his voice was so much better than listening to the actor's voice on the TV-screen. Barbara closed her eyes. His timbre was so familiar. "Well, I have an errand to run before I can join you at the office. Do you mind starting paper-work and summing the case up on your own? I think Nkata will be there in time."

"He's always in time, Sir." Barbara sighed. Nkata usually was at the office before everybody else. "We'll cope."

And his errands probably were important and concerning his estate or something else. Otherwise he would have told her and maybe she just did not want to know what he had to do. Jealous memories of his female friends flashed through her mind and she sighed again.

"Are you okay?" Lynley asked. Barbara knew that she would cope with her jealousy too. She always had. She always had to and she always will. It actually was none of her business.

"Yes... yes, of course."

"Good. See you later then. I'll try to be quick. I wouldn't want to miss too much time without you, my grumpy Sergeant."

Barbara knew he was joking but still the melody of her wakeup-song stole itself past Barbara's whistling lips.

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