Author's note: The characters belong to Elizabeth George and the BBC. I just like to have them run free in my head and on my pages for you.

Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers was still furious as she slammed her front door. When she had stormed from his office she had been too angry to work. It was nearly the end of the day so she decided to go home to cool down but it had not worked; if anything she was even angrier. She was livid, with herself and with him. Sometimes she wondered how her boss, Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley, managed to be incredibly insightful as to the motives of criminals and yet completely blind to the emotions of everyone around him. It is always all about him!

What really upset her was that she did not understand why she was so annoyed. It had started off when she had invited him for a Friday night drink after work. He could have just said he had something on but no, he had to tell me in detail.

"Sorry Havers, I have a date tonight with Margaret. Dinner at The Savoy then perhaps we might go dancing afterwards," Lynley had said apologetically.

She should have simply replied, "No problem Sir, have a great night." But no, she could never be simple, so had actually asked, "Who is Margaret?"

"A friend of Deborah's actually. We met at Simon and Deborah's anniversary party last Saturday. She seems very nice and we seem to have a lot in common," Lynley answered.

"Well I only hope you are not rushing in again Sir."

"I hardly think dinner is 'rushing in' Havers." She knew he did not like to be reminded about the events following his affair with Julia Oborne. Barbara could tell from his tone that he knew what she meant and did not appreciate her comments. Again she could have apologised and left gracefully but instead had retorted, "If you say so." She had then turned on her heels and stormed out.

Dancing, who goes dancing in this day and age! Horizontal rhumbaing no doubt! As she made her dinner Barbara tried to understand why she felt unreasonably mad. She did not think she was jealous of him. He was entitled to a social life, whatever that entailed. Just because she did not have anyone in her life did not mean he should not have relationships. She was not jealous of Margaret either. Barbara did not want to have dinner at swanky restaurants followed by cheap meaningless sex. She was quite happy here, by herself, making her baked beans on toast. What if it isn't meaningless? What if Margaret is the one for him? Barbara banged the pot onto her stove so hard the glasses in the cupboard above rattled.

As she searched in her freezer for some bread she convinced herself that she was annoyed simply because he had a habit of becoming infatuated and not thinking through the consequences. Margaret might be a lovely person but Barbara did not trust Lynley to be objective. Barbara was his friend and she wanted him to be happy but she did not want to go through months of listening to his angst as she had when he was with Helen. Barbara knew she had pushed Tommy and Helen together and she still felt guilty. She had thought Helen was what he wanted, what he needed, but Helen had proved not to be and had broken his heart on too many occasions. Yet Barbara had insisted on supporting their relationship after she came swanning back into it. Barbara should have told him to cut and run.

She realised she was angry now because Tommy simply did not know what he wanted in a woman and so he found the most unsuitable matches. Helen had not been right because she had been his best friend, his confidante, but had not really loved him as a wife should love a husband. They had tried to force something good into something different and it had not worked. And he does not need some socialite airhead who just wants to flutter through life using him as a meal ticket. He needs someone that loves him as fiercely as he loves people; someone who will always be there for him and not want him to be something he is not capable of being. She had stopped herself from adding 'someone like me' because she knew that they lived in different worlds. Lynley was the 8th Earl of Asherton, educated at Eton and Oxford, and she was the daughter of working class folk from Acton who had worked her way through night school to get into the Met. She had long ago come to terms with the fact that they could be friends, good friends, even best friends, but no more. Barbara liked what she had. Working with Tommy was the best thing that had happened to her and she would protect that as long as she could.

She found the bread and threw it onto the plate to defrost and opened the tin of beans and tipped the contents into the saucepan. She considered having a shower to cool off but could not be bothered. She was still too incensed to do anything meaningful, even eat. She had no appetite so left the kitchen and sat on the lounge searching through the television channels for something to distract her. After ten minutes of mindless viewing her thinking started to clear. She knew, even at the time, that her reaction had been unwarranted and rude. She had no right to interfere in his love life and she wished now that she could go back in time and handle it in a mature way. She would apologise in the morning. She returned to the kitchen and put the bread into the toaster then realised that tomorrow was Saturday and by Monday it would be too late. She grabbed her phone from the bench and texted him, 'Sorry. Have a great night.'

She removed the toast and as she buttered it remembered she had not yet heated the beans. She was about to light the gas when the doorbell rang. She cursed, wondering who it was at this hour. As she went to the door she noticed it was only seven o'clock, hardly an unreasonable hour for visitors. Even so, who visits me? Barbara opened the door to the last person she expected, Tommy Lynley.

"Oh, Sir," Barbara said clearly flustered, "what are you doing here?"

"I'm not sure really," he said holding up his mobile phone which was still lit up by her text, "aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Oh sorry, yes of course," she replied stepping aside to let him pass. Surely he wasn't waiting outside for her to text?

He removed his coat and tossed it onto the arm of the chair as he sat. "Is that toast I can smell?"

"Er, yes Sir, my dinner," Barbara answered as she sat down carefully on the sofa, "baked beans on toast."

"Do you eat like that every night?"

"No half the week I'm usually with you or Winston on a case." He did not reply and the silence was awkward. "Look Sir, I'm sorry. I had no right to say anything. Shouldn't you be at the Savoy by now?"

"I cancelled." His voice was flat and Barbara was struggling to comprehend what he meant.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, not because of what I said I hope."

"Well yes, actually." Again she could not pick his meaning but guilt began to gnaw at her soul.

"Why?" she asked not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Probably because you were right Barbara, Margaret is nice enough but I'm not really attracted to her. I was just lonely," Tommy confessed, "so there is no point in starting something that I have no intention of continuing."

"Oh." Barbara did not know what to say. She understood loneliness well enough and what it made people do.

"Barbara, I haven't slept with anyone since Julia. I just wanted you to know that."

"Sir, that's none of my business. I just don't want you to get hurt again, that's all."

"Isn't it?"

"What?"

"Your business."

"No!"

"You acted as if it was."

Barbara shifted uncomfortably on the couch before answering in a low voice, "I, I know. But I don't own you and I'm sorry. I got angry because I thought you might get hurt."

Tommy stood and came and sat next to her. "You worry about me don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Don't you think I can look after myself?"

No, I don't! "Yes, yes of course you can."

"Have you ever considered that our friendship, what we feel for each other, is actually more?" Tommy's voice was warm and alluring, almost seductive and Barbara knew if she looked into his eyes she would say something very inappropriate. She felt her face redden and hoped in the night light he would not notice.

"I'm not sure what you mean by that exactly Sir, but you're Eton and I'm Acton. They sound similar but they are worlds apart, so no, what we have is what we have and could never be anything more." She swallowed hard after she said the words and endeavoured not to cry. She had loved Tommy for years but had tried very hard not to let that stray into being 'in love' with him. Now sitting so close it was a physical as well as an emotional struggle.

"That's never bothered me Barbara, you know that."

"As friends, exactly but certainly not for 'more' whatever you mean by that."

"I was thinking about it after you flounced out of my office. I wanted to go out with Margaret because I am lonely but I realised I'm only lonely when I'm not with you. I don't have to be lonely if I don't want to be Barbara; neither of us has to be alone."

She made the mistake of looking up, into his eyes. They were caring and tender and smouldered with a look she had never seen in them before. Barbara was confused and the bewilderment flashed across her face. Tommy saw it and before Barbara had a chance to respond he had kissed her. She was shocked and did not react. He had never acted this way before. He had alluded to how much he valued her in his life, but never as anything but friends.

He pulled away and started to apologise, "I'm sorry Barbara. I've done it again haven't I? I've transferred my feelings onto you and assumed you would feel the same. That's what I did to Helen didn't I? I'm sorry, can you forgive me? I, I thought that the way you acted today you might have felt the same way." He stood and moved to take his coat.

"No, wait Sir," Barbara was uncertain what to do or say but she did not want him to leave. "I don't think either of us knows what we feel."

He hesitated then sat down again putting his head into his hands. "I am not very good at this am I?"

"Neither of us is but you can't think you love someone because you are lonely."

"It's not just that Barbara. You are the only person I can ever be myself with; the only one who believes in me. You're the only one that's ever really loved me unconditionally and never asked for anything in return. You're the only person I can't live without. I imagined you felt that way about me too."

Her voice caught in her throat and Tommy turned to look at her. "I do… but is that enough?" She felt the tears start to leak from her eyes. His hand came up to her face and he brushed them away with his thumb as his other arm came across her shoulder. He pulled her to him and she buried her face in his chest and started to cry in earnest; deep wracking sobs. Tommy wrapped his other arm around her and held her to him as if he would never let her go and nestled his face in her hair. All of the emotions of the last ten years bubbled to the surface and Barbara felt out of control yet she felt safe, the same as she had that day outside of that pub in Suffolk when Tommy had held her the same way.

"Yes, I think it is," he said quietly as he lifted her face. He bent down and caressed her lips with his own. The kiss was loving and sensitive to her pain and uncertainty; her indecision fled. This time she kissed him back and his relief was unmistakable. His kiss intensified and Barbara allowed herself to give in to the sensation. She had loved him for years and now that went into her kiss. She could feel his tears on her cheeks as he deepened the kiss. She felt loved, truly loved for the first time in her life.

"I love you Tommy." She had not meant to say it, to say anything, but it was out there now. She was exposed and she hoped that she had interpreted his behaviour correctly.

"Oh Barbara, you have no idea how happy that makes me to hear you say that. I love you too; more than you could ever believe." If the way he was kissing her did not convince her then his words did, delivered in his most serious of Lynley voices. His kiss became more fevered and lustful and his tone changed to become more mischievous, "We have a bit of time to make up for though."

"Hmm," she murmured around his kisses, "so I gather you don't want to share my baked beans?"

They laughed and Tommy stood pulling Barbara to her feet. "My hunger right now has nothing to do with food." She understood and nodded. She led him towards her bedroom glad that tonight was Friday and they would have the rest of the weekend to feast.