Author's note: I don't own any of the characters nor the original Inspector Lynley Mysteries – they belong to Elizabeth George and the BBC.
Review and comment, but please keep in mind that I'm no native speaker. Thanks!
If I did something terribly wrong (rating, grammar, spelling...), please let me know. This is my first story ever.
I highly recommend reading the first chapter of "Nothing, Sir" first, written by Lil'Dutchy in 2010. That story inspired me for mine. Thanks Lil'Dutchy for the story and the inspiration. And excuse me for throwing realism out of the window, but I could… ;-)
Mine is clearly set after "Know Thine Enemy". Havers and Lynley went for a pint.
Believe me! Read "Nothing, Sir" first!
.
Once again Barbara just looked in her glass, nearly empty, so she couldn't see his eyebrow, once again raised questioning. But she knew he did it. He always did – or so she thought – when he could see through her little lies or when she said something he considered stupid.
"One more?" he asked.
That would be stupid! she thought. She could sit the whole night here drinking beer with Lynley and looking at him but she knew that at some point she would be getting very tipsy and probably do or say something very stupid measured against that mood she was in.
"nah, better stop and go home." she said with a lopsided grin. "Got loads of work to do tomorrow." And besides I do not want to get in trouble, she thought.
He nodded. "Can I give you a ride?"
Bloody hell, yes! Immediately she blushed as dark red as the pubs walls were. Did she say that aloud? Thank god she didn't. She downed the last drops of her beer hoping that he didn't see her red cheeks and instead accepted the lift in a much more civilized way. Gods, Havers, where are your manners?!
Her thoughts had taken a very dangerous dead end road and she tried to stop them. It's gotten more difficult without the safety of the table between them. He helped her in her coat and by doing so touched her shoulders. She had to keep in mind that it must have been unintentional. Like she had reflected earlier he sometimes just touched her without any meanings. His shoulder had bumped in her back while he had tried to read what she had held in her hands. Or his hand had been laying on her back and had guided her through the bushes at some crime scene. First she told herself that it was all unintentional. Recently she had started to question that although her brains told her not to do so.
"Thank you!" she said, still trying to stop her thoughts from running this road.
He was a real gentleman, aristocratic to the bone. She liked this behaviour. Although at the beginnig of their working partnership he had not been the gentleman he was now. He even had let her keep him the doors open sometimes or carry his bags. She had felt like he had been the arrogant Lordship with his Sergeant Servant. As years had passed by and their friendship had grown he more and more respected her for being the DS on his side on duty as well as being a good friend in private.
Now he did keep the doors open for her, let her step out of the pub and followed her into the cool night. She deeply inhaled the fresh air hoping that would clean her head. The way home would be difficult enough with both of them so close and his hand on the gearstick so near to her right leg.
Dead end road! she reminded herself. Don't walk that way! Hopefully there wouldn't be many red lights. So as not to get into a hopeless situation coming home soon is what she needed now. Straight forward, hurry! She recognized her thoughts getting ambigous too.
He opened the door, let her get into the car and closed it behind her.
"When will you put a CD-player in that old car?" she asked because the original radio crackled very loud when she turned it on. Some oldfashioned swing-music dripped out of the speakers.
"It is no old car it is a classic car and…" he started his defense.
"…an expensive old car…" she grinned. She loved that banter about his undoubtedly beautiful and undoubtedly damageable classic car which he really was so big on.
He slightly leaned over in her direction, stared at her and asserted forcefully "…classic car! And this is the original radio and I will never exchange it for one of those newfangled digital sorcery!" His harsh words were accompanied by a boyish grin and those lovely little wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.
She took in breath like she wanted to say something though she said nothing but just stared in his eyes and grinned back at him. The moment was just a second too long not to be awkward at some point. They weren't saying anything and the silence stretched her nerves. Looking in her eyes his smile slowly dropped. So did hers. She was becoming entangled by his looks. What was he thinking of? He had to believe that she had too much beer when she continued staring at him without saying or doing something.
She forced herself to break the eyecontact, looked through the front window and said "Go ahead, start the engine, maybe I'm getting home before midnight if you kick your steam car!" It made him chuckle.
There you are, talking about the car with your DI and every word is suggestive! she thought. He must be thinking that I am flirting. Was she flirting with him or did she just shovels her own grave by not finding appropriate words while talking about nonsense? She had to be much more careful from now on or he will soon poke fun at her.
He instead started the engine and drove her home.
For about ten minutes neither of them spoke. All lights were green. Her thoughts wandered about. She never should let this happen. This falling deep for the Lord DI. For one thing he was her boss and secondly they were absolutely not playing in the same league. Not even the same game, she thought. Once she was at Howenstow she clearly could feel it. Not that his family hadn't welcomed her by heart but it had always been obvious for herself that she is just the little DS, born in Acton. You could see the difference as well as you could hear it. She had been trying not to talk too much with that accent of hers and in doing so she appered to be shy.
Her silentness on the way home was something different. She didn't feel out of place. It was quite the opposite, she felt very comfortable. At the moment she simply said nothing because she was afraid that she would make a fool of herself by saying something that might get her deeper into hot water.
He was the first to speak.
"So quiet? You still think about the tapes?" he asked her continuing her white lie earlier in the pub.
She was thankful for that question. Even if it was a depressive topic it kept her mind from running on. They reviewed the last day on that case. Again she thanked him for not saying that he told her so because he did tell her so. When she said that she was sad about being wrong once more he soothed her by telling her that it was not her fault that she was betrayed by Tania.
Lynley tried to reassure her. "Don't blame yourself." The car stopped.
"Here we are." He turned off the engine and didn't make a move.
The silence came back. She cleared her throat. She knew she had to go now and she better just say goodbye. But she felt like leaning over and giving him a goodnight kiss at least. Oh, that wouldn't be appropriate at all. And it would be silly. Lynley sure would laugh about her. The silent minute stretched uncomfortable.
"Doesn't a gentleman opens the door for the lady?" she asked and in the same second was sorry for that stupidity. He is a gentleman but she is no lady. She could open the door by herself. She should do so, thank him for the lift and go home.
She opened the door. But he hurryingly jumped out of the car, closing it in one single movenment and was at her side.
"Sorry Ma'am" he mumbles smiling. "May I lend you a hand?"
It tingled when she took the offered hand and got out of the car. For a wisp of a second they were very close. She stopped breathing. He stopped smiling. Then she let his hand go and stepped aside, letting him close the door.
"Well, er, it…"
"Er, oh, will…"
They talked simultaneously. Then both said "You first." and they giggled.
"Fancy a cuppa?" she asked. But the second she invited him she said to herself that he might not want to have a cup of cheap tea with his stupid DS in her tiny little flat but was too polite to reject the offer. She lost the courage that she didn't know were it came from. Barbara, you are an idiot! She looked at her feet.
"You don't have to." she admitted. "It's late and it would be better not to be drinking tea at that time of the day. Besides tomorrow will be a very difficult day and we both have to get some sleep…"
"Stop talking!" She might have counted several more reasons for him not to have a cuppa if he wouldn't have stopped her. "I would like to have a cup of tea now. Really!" He smiled at her reassuringly. That reassuring smile that she so much liked and sometimes needed. Then he put an arm around her shoulder and turned in the direction of her door. She insured herself that she had cleaned up her flat last evening so she could bring his Lordship there.
Her knees were getting weak. What did she do? On the way to her door her thoughts were racing. She thought about a topic to talk about when sitting on her sofa – no, him sitting on the sofa, her sitting in the armchair. They would just have a cup of tea and call it a day. She must keep it professional. Needed to keep some distance between them. No more physical… He squeezed her shoulder.
He said "After a horrible day nobody would like to be alone so soon. Neither would I. What's on TV?"
She fidgeted with her keys and forced down her trembling so she could open the door. Alright then, let's watch some Telly. No need to speak. That would be helping against any awkward silence or stupid smalltalk.
Finally she opened the door and went in her flat. She held the door open and made an inviting gesture to Lynley.
"Come in." she said.
Lynley went in and she closed the door behind him elaboratively. Then she turned and found herself only some few inches away from him. Her breast nearly touched his chest when she breathed and she suddenly had to breathe very heavy. She blushes and had a lump in her throat.
"Sir…?!" she croaked.
"Don't sir me!" he rasped.
She stopped breathing and both didn't make a move. Then he slowly bent down his head.
He tries to kiss me and he gives me all the time to back off! she thought. She didn't back off. Instead she instinctively splitted the difference.
Their lips met. Softly he kissed her. She realized that he didn't put his arms around her so she still could have backed off. Then he took her hand.
She had her eyes closed and enjoyed the kiss and the contact of their hands. A wonderful warmth went through her body. When he freed her lips she started to breathe again. She was irritated. Where did that come from? What must he be thinking of her? On the other hand – he did initiate the kiss. Was he playing with her? She stared at him in disbelief.
But she felt the deep longing to run her hands through his hair, to touch his stubbly cheeks, to touch his lips again. To kiss him again.
He kissed me! she realized. Suddenly she was terrified and made a step away from him only to feel the door in her back.
He didn't release her hand. His eyes darkened and she saw his raw and unadulterated lust.
He made a step towards her so she was stuck between him and the door. Her eyes went wide open, her heart raced, her head said Oh, don't do that! and her body screamed Take what you can get!
He pushed her up against the door and pressed his lips on hers. This was the spark that causes an explosion in her belly. Now she couldn't hold her own longing anymore, concealed so many years under layers of protection, so finally she wiped her fears and doubts aside and answered his kiss desperately. He slightly bit her lips, his tongue demanded admission and she let him enter her mouth. One of her hands never broke contact with his. She felt his other hand searching for her breast under her shirt. She exhaled heavily into his open mouth when his fingers finally found what they were fumbling for. With his hips he pressed her urgently against the door. She grabbed his belt and tried to pull him even closer. Intensively she could feel his desire through all that cloth between them.
How they ended up in her bed she didn't know exactly. Their clothes were spread all the way from the door to the bed. She remembered her weak ... should we really...? in the middle of that way counteracted by her wanton movements. She remembered his hungry growl as they were sitting on the bedside. She remembered the jittery search for a condom as well as his interruption right before they melted, asking if she really wants this. And she remembered not very much later calling out his name: "Thomas!"
She laid on her back with his exhausted body half on hers. He breathed through his nose and this gave her a tickling feeling on her neck. She felt deeply satisfied. All the trouble they would be having at the Met, all the embarrassments concerning their distinctions, all those difficulties are miles away. Tomorrow would be soon enough to think about what kind of outburst of long lasting and long hidden adoration this evening was and where this all would in the end lead to.
A tear rolled down her cheek but she was smiling. He felt the tear dropping on his face and looked up.
"Everything okay, Barbara?!" he asked her quietly with a shaking voice and an encouraging smile. She felt his concern.
"Yes, everything, Sir." she smiled teasingly back at him. Tomorrow there would be enough time to talk about problems. Talk more than they've done this evening. But that would be tomorrow.
.
So, thanks for reading. If you've already read the second chapter of "Nothing Sir", you know what follows...