Author's note: As always I have borrowed these characters from Elizabeth George and the especially the BBC. I often wonder if the authors or actors ever read these fanfics what they would think.
This is a sequel to my last story 'Counselling'. I would normally prefer to load an entire story but I am sharing this now because I am not sure when I will have time for the final 2-3 chapters.
Thanks for your reviews. I am glad you like my stories and what I have done with the characters.
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When Tommy woke he found Barbara still nestled in his arms snoring quietly. She looked content. Although he regretted it, he had to move her so he could go to the bathroom. He resisted the urge to kiss her; every time that had happened last night it had led to all sorts of forbidden pleasures. He had learned a lot more about his Sergeant in one night than he had in ten years working beside her. He ruefully thought of the time they had wasted.
They had barely slept and he was tired. Even so the memories started to excite him and he marvelled at what love could do for his middle aged libido. He must try to get a bit fitter when he returned to London but now he should stop at the pharmacy for some vitamins if he was going to survive the next five days. It was then that he was struck by the realisation that they had failed to take any precautions. Barbara had not objected and he was not worried about disease but they needed to be more careful. He added contraception to his mental pharmacy list.
They slept in until almost noon when hunger overtook their need for rest. While Barbara showered Tommy rang Reception and was given directions to a famous boulangerie nearby. The shower was still running so Tommy joined her; lunch could wait a little longer.
"Why are you limping?" he questioned her as they walked out onto the street.
"I'm not," she said clearly embarrassed, "things are a bit sore!"
Tommy laughed and apologised then looked serious as he asked tentatively, "That won't stop us enjoying Paris in any way will it?"
She smiled. It is not Paris you are thinking about. "No, but if we find a pharmacy I will buy some balm; if I can get them to understand me. I don't suppose you speak French do you?" He smirked at her trying to look innocent. "I see. Well you can buy it then!"
They were genuinely surprised by how hungry they were and after devouring croissants and some much needed coffee they strolled along the boulevards captivated by the Parisian spirit. Tommy spotted a pharmacy and ducked inside, emerging five minutes later with a little paper bag. He opened it to show Barbara the contents. "Some vitamins for me to keep up my strength," he said winking, "Some balm for you - the nice lady told me it works best if I rub it in; and some, er, precautions."
"Four boxes eh? You're being optimistic aren't you?"
He cocked his head in thought. "Mmm, you're right." He turned and walked back in to buy some more.
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Tommy had used his influence to book a quite table in a secluded corner at Le Jules Verne, the restaurant on the second level of the Eiffel Tower. It had unsurpassed views of the city and the Siene which he knew Barbara would love. Whilst she would have been more comfortable somewhere more downscale tonight he wanted it to be classically French with all the romance that evoked. He had plans for tomorrow that would accommodate her earthiness.
Their hotel was only ten minutes stroll from the tower and Tommy wanted to walk in the cool of the evening. Barbara was being Havers; worried about whether she would use the right cutlery or say something stupid to the waiter. Tommy understood but was firm, "You can see me can't you?"
"Yes." What a silly question.
"Then if you are unsure which knife to use watch which one I use and use the same one."
"Yeah, I guess." She still felt uneasy. She knew she would have to meet him half way in this and adapt in part to his lifestyle but there were so many things she did not know. "What do I wear?"
"What about that red dress?"
"Mmm, I'm still not sure that's my colour."
"Trust me Barbara; it will be perfect on you."
He wore his grey suit again, this time dressing it up with a crisp white shirt and navy and red striped tie. Now that she could openly admire him she allowed herself the pleasure of running her eyes across his physique. He really did look his best when he was dressed up. His face was still ruggedly handsome; not as young and chiselled as it had once been but still strong and smouldering. His hair was shorter again now; more like it was when they met. She preferred it that way she decided. It made him look more aristocratic. She sighed; this was such a wonderful feeling. She dressed quickly and was surprised when she looked at her reflection. He was right, again. The dress did look good on her and made her feel sexy, not an emotion she had been familiar with before last night. She looked in the mirror and grinned at herself mischievously.
The night was still and clear and Paris shone. They walked through the Trocadero and across the bridge to the tower. In the lift he placed his hand on her back and allowed it to glide down over the curve of her buttocks. It was smooth and he wondered if she had on a G-string. The thought stirred him but how could she; she had had no time to buy one. "Are you wearing anything under that dress?" he whispered jokingly into her ear.
"No, not a skerrick," she whispered back, "top or bottom."
He moaned at the possibilities, and remembering where he was had to cover it with a hasty cough. He moved closer to her and murmured, "Vixen."
He enjoyed dinner and watching Barbara but his mind kept drifting to what lay so temptingly close beneath that dress. He wanted to race her back to the hotel but the strain of wanting her so badly was actually an exquisite pleasure in itself. He had booked a cruise along the river and they walked to the pier hand in hand like the many other lovers in Paris. On the boat he led her upstairs to the open deck then held her to him kissing her. As the boat moved off he stood behind her pointing out the buildings and telling her stories about what they were and when they were built. Watching her reaction he felt he was seeing Paris for the first time.
"If you ever leave the Met, you would make a great tour guide," Barbara told him. They both chuckled. "And by the way they have a word in Acton for what you are doing."
Tommy paused wondering what she meant then realised that he had moved in close behind her and had wrapped his arms tightly around her. He was gently moving his hips, his protuberance nestling snugly into the small gap between the cheeks of her hind. The thought of how easy it would be to access her glorious body was hard for him to ignore.
"Dry humping they call it. I didn't know Lords did it too."
Tommy leapt back instantly looking around guiltily to see if anyone had noticed. "Barbara, really!" No one saw or if they did they did not care. Everyone else on the boat was lost in their own private world of love.
She turned and looked at him and laughed. He was so cute when he was caught out being human. She loved this man and wondered if she could ever be sad again. He started to laugh too, aware of his reaction. He moved back in and grabbed her. He lent down and nuzzled her neck knowing the affect it would have on her, and growled, "It's all your fault for forgetting to dress properly." He was happy; truly happy. Everything was going to be fine.