A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter, but long enough, I think...


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Morning Misery

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When she woke it was still dark. Barbara pulled her arm close to her body under the duvet. Then she realised it had laid on the pillow next to her where a man should have been, at least as far as she could remember. She heard no snoring, not even breathing and according to her sleep blurred memory the lights should be on. She could not remember to have them turned off. Not even after... the third round. She blushed a bit. Had she really had three times sex with... Tommy?! Or had she just dreamed all this? She was exhausted and if she was honest she still felt extremely satisfied but obviously she was alone in her bed. Her hand felt her body with caution. Yes, she was completely naked. With one eye she peeped onto her nightstand.

[ 07:13 ] and three and an empty bottle of massage oil. She opened both eyes. She had had a massage tonight. And what a massage! She could not have dreamed all this; she definitely was a hundred percent sexually satisfied. The tentative smile died as quick as it had come onto her lips.

There was no man and there was no note. Not even on the other night stand.

Barbara groaned and closed her eyes again, trying to bury her head under her pillow. The smell of sex was lingering in the air of the small room but she was alone. There weren't any other sounds than hers, neither in the room nor in the bathroom. He was not just showering - he was gone.

"Fuck!" she swore. Since she was alone and Tommy- "Bloody Lynley!" she cursed his name - he was not here anymore. So since she was alone in the bed her benumbed mind debated with her knackered bones if she should just keep lying there or simply not get up at all today.

Finally a certain pressure made her heave herself up from the mattress and trudge the short way to her bathroom. Her clothes lay neatly folded on the drawer cabinet she had been lifted onto yesterday night in a mind-blowing storm of desire and lust.

There were none of his clothes. Not even his tie. Disappointed Barbara snorted when she thought back to the moment down at the hotel bar when she had opened his fine silken piece of couture. She should not have done it. She should not have started to flirt with him. It had to fail.

Not bothering if the door was open or closed - who was there to feel disturbed? - she stepped onto the cold tiles of the bathroom and went to the loo.

I'm a bloody old cow. And I need a good excuse to never again show up at work. Bleary eyed and short sighted after such a heavy night and with one hand trailing along the cabinet she made the last few steps past that bathtub - never again would she imagine her boss when she masturbated, she swore - and almost slumped down on the toilet. Barbara stayed there for a while even without the need. She just did not want to move. She was exhausted and sore. Every muscle ached and reminded her that it had been a bad idea to consider His Cornish Lordship as her Highland fling. Every tendon hurt and made her curse that shitty weekend resolution to take what she could get, to take what he would give her because what happens in Scotland- she did not even want to think that thought to its end.

And we had not spent the tiniest thought on contraception!

She felt nauseated.


Deep down in her toilet bag she found some aspirins against the throbbing pain behind her temples. It was not so much a hangover from the alcohol she had consumed yesterday evening, it was more the hangover from this obviously one night stand she had had with the man she had considered to be the love of her life. Like stepping through a fog she finally got up from the porcelain and walked straight under the shower. Maybe some hot water could bring back some positivity, she hoped. From the first drops on her tears were flowing. Apathetically she just soaped her skin and then just stood there, devastated and sad, waiting until the spray had rinsed her. Barbara had let her head bump against the tiles with closed eyes and just stood there a little longer. She could have stayed under the shower forever. Nobody heard her sobs so she cried her tears into the warm water until there were none left. For now.

For unrecognised five or more minutes she just stood there and dried under the turned off shower before she briefly rubbed her hair dry (or what the result could be called when you just spend less than half a minute rubbing your hair) and wrapped herself in an almost duvet-sized soft towel. Oh, yes, she would have breakfast in her room today. There was no desire to see anyone else but a waiter today. If she could avoid seeing even the waiter, it would be fine too. He could leave the tray in front of her door and go away again. She saw no real reason to come out of her room today and probably also would have some simple dinner be served up here. If she would be hungry at all during the day that is. Right at the moment she had no appetite for nothing.

"Oooh, dinner!" she whispered at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. She suddenly remembered that she had a date with the bloody... Well, she would cancel it. She just would not even call him or text him. She would just not show up in the lounge where they had wanted to meet. And she would not answer his knock at the door. And knock he would, of that Barbara was sure. He would be so bloody caring. "Yah, right... Would he? Sure?" she sarcastically asked her reflection. If so, why had he left you here at all without any note? Why had he done this to you anyway? Some convenient bargain sex for fun with his Sarge was this... nothing more... Brilliant...

They had been making love the entire night. Barbara had given her heart, soul and body to Tommy like she never ever had dreamed she would be able to. It had felt good, it had felt right, it had felt so wonderful and serious. Tommy had more than fulfilled her dreams multiple times tonight before they drifted into a well-deserved sleep quite early in the morning. He had said he loved her. He had said he had wanted her for so long. And that it was marvellous. And that he was happy and joyful and other bloody sentimental stuff she had believed. And now he was gone.

Red eyes answered her look full of sadness and self-pity, but most of all full of self-hatred. Maybe she should just get back to bed, hide there and never get up again until Monday.

Although on the pillow there probably still was the earthy smell of him, on the sheets still would be the heady scent of their lovemaking. To avoid any more reminders of sex in general and sex with her boss in particular Barbara considered simply curling up into a little ball of self-pity here on the bathroom floor. Or maybe I just pack my things immediately, leave Scotland and return to London right now. Arrange to also leave the job as long as he's not there. Turn off my mobile. Not answer my doorbell. Try not to meet Winnie. Just disappear...

Having made her decision to leave and encouraging herself with a deep breath to go on with this shitty day and check out of the hotel Barbara tore away from her miserable image in the mirror.

Life would go on...


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A/N: Now that I've read it once more I'd like to say that I'm sorry...