I've never read the Elizabeth George books, but I am a huge fan of the BBC series, and I have borrowed the characters to play with just for fun and no profit to myself. I promise to return them unharmed...I hope you enjoy!
I appreciate all the lovely reviews – every word you write is an incentive to me to continue the story. By the way, I am imagining this story in a slightly different AU, one where Lynley and Havers are the same age, but the whole thing is taking place now - you will understand this when you read about certain computer searches that take place. A special thanks to Cats and Tess, the prolific Lynley/Havers writers who put me to shame in their dedication to producing more stories!
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Lynley's realization that he loved Barbara Havers weighed heavily on him as he drove home in the dark to his flat. Acknowledging his feelings was one thing, acting on that knowledge was something else again. There were a million reasons why they shouldn't be together. Not a single one of those reasons mattered to him, but he knew his prickly sergeant would throw each and every one of those reasons in his face.
He smiled wryly to himself as he unlocked the dark, deserted flat, imagining her full-throated protests objecting to any hearts-and-flowers declaration from him. Tommy the Ponce loves Havers the Emotional Hedgehog, and never the twain shall meet. He laughed at himself, then sighed deeply, and dumped his coat and briefcase on the table in the foyer.
Stepping into his study, he headed straight for the liquor cabinet, then hesitated for a moment as he eyed the selection of single-malts. He decided on the Lagavulin 16yr., craving something not too tame. Tommy poured the deep amber liquid - nectar of the gods, surely - over ice, and sank deeply into one of his leather chairs.
He sipped, and contemplated, savoring the peaty, smoky flavor of the scotch. Barbara would bolt if he approached her directly, of that he was sure. Iodine, sea salt, leather...so what was the answer? He felt at a disadvantage. Most women threw themselves at him, and he was not unaware of his appeal to the opposite sex.
Although, thinking back, perhaps there was a pattern...Deborah had resisted his attentions, ultimately choosing Simon instead. Helen had not exactly jumped into his arms, and it had not ended well. He still felt horribly guilty about Helen, because, perhaps, he had pushed her into the marriage, manipulating her feelings after her disastrous split with Rhys Davies Jones...
Lynley poured himself another glass of the Lagavulin, then sank deeper into the leather chair. Truth be told, he was shite at relationships, only good for one night stands. The one constant for the past ten-plus years of his life was Barbara. She had stuck with him, regardless of the consequences, through thick and thin...he drained his glass and looked at the liquor cabinet. He sighed, but set the glass down, and headed up the stairs to bed. He had things to do tomorrow.
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The next morning, Lynley was in the office early, working through the paperwork on his desk with a vengeance, ready to clear some time to deal with what he was beginning to think of as the "Barbara situation."
He heard her arrive through his office door, chatting with Nkata and the other police officers nearby, and her voice sounded happy and cheerful, despite the monotonous paperwork he knew was on her desk at the moment. His jealousy flared up, imagining her happiness was due to what's-his-name. Jack.
Lynley finished his paperwork in record time, then turned his attention to the Havers problem at hand. Nkata's file first - it would have all of his schooling details in it. A few clicks had the details up on his screen; he was Winston's superior, after all. Easy enough. Once he had the name of the school, everything was accessible online, thanks to the wonders of the modern Internet.
Tommy's fingers scrolled through the data. Jack...Jack...Jack...and there it was, easy as that, not even any nicknames to sort through. Jack Casey. His school photo matched what Lynley could recall of the man he had seen with Barbara at that restaurant, well enough, at least, accounting for the years since school.
So, Google to the rescue. What has Jack Casey been up to since his school days? Lynley felt a bit of a shock at the number of results that pop up on his screen.. Apparently Mr. Casey is a bit more than initially meets the eye...
"Headed out for some lunch. Want some?" Lynley looked up, feeling a bit guilty for some reason. Barbara looked back at him, innocent, unsuspecting. "Sir? Lunch?"
Tommy snapped out of it, shaking his head in response. "No, I'm good, thanks." Havers nodded, starting to turn away, and he speaks before he thinks. "Fancy a drink later? At the end of the day?"
Barbara's smile back at him is like the best Christmas present ever. "Great. See you then."
Lynley watched her leave, focused on her arse as she walks away, the swing of her hips, turned on by it, but also appalled by his reaction to her at the same time. Surely love should be on some higher plane, like it was with Deborah, or even Helen, not a jolt to both his heart and his body at the same time.
Tommy turned his attention back to the computer, drilling down into the data on Jack Casey. A picture soon begins to emerge, and his heart sinks lower and lower as he reads the information. The man is a genius: developed a smartphone app right out of secondary school, turned it into a multi-million pound company, the IPO was a huge success.
Casey also gives back: donations to a variety of worthwhile charities, a foundation that gives scholarships to worthy students from the neighbourhood where he and Winston Nkata grew up. A couple of long term relationships with worthwhile women, and no salacious gossip about him; he's a fucking saint, according to the Internet.
The man is perfect, and Lynley, for once in his life, feels like second-hand goods. Jack Casey is younger, highly intelligent, rich, a "good bloke," as Nkata phrased it. He's even good-looking. Casey likes Barbara Havers, and she likes him. Tommy should leave well enough alone, shouldn't he?
"Ready for a drink?" Barbara's question startled Tommy out of his despair, and his frown disappeared as he looks up at her.
"Of course," he replies. "Let's go."