Author's note: Francesca, ye of little faith. What made you think the last chapter was the end?"

In the end, Barbara was in hospital as long as Tommy. Delayed shock they called it, plus one of her cracked ribs had broken. Her nurse claimed her antics with the earl had caused it. "Fancy laughing like that when you've got a cracked rib," he had scolded her, "I have no sympathy. None at all. Bed pan?"

Tommy came into her room to escort her home. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Where's your bag?"

She held up a white garbage bag she had scrounged from the cleaner. Her clothes had been ruined by the explosion, so she only had her wallet, a few toiletries and her medicines.

The head nurse arrived to bid them farewell. "It was a pleasure M'lord, and of course, Ms Havers."

Barbara smiled as it was the correct response, but it was as hollow as the nurse's practiced lip-curl. "I'll have these laundered,' she said, pointing to the hospital's pyjamas, robe and slippers, "and I'll return them in a few days."

The head nurse had cocked her head and raised her fingers in disgust. "My dear, they are included in your care. We don't… re-use pyjamas!"

Barbara felt her face colour with embarrassment and anger.

"Maybe you should," Tommy said, "it'd be better for the environment. But I'm sure Barbara will continue to wear them and get the value from them."

Barbara turned and gave him a look of gratitude and amusement. It was the nurse's turn now to turn scarlet.

Tommy smiled back and took Barbara's arm. "Come on then, we'd better get you home."

Winston was waiting for them at the entrance. "I parked just over there," he said, "can you walk, or will I bring the car over?"

"We're fine," the newly released patients said in unison, then chuckled. Winston rolled his eyes. If this was what they would be like, he hoped they sorted themselves out during their compulsory week off. He couldn't cope with a schoolyard courtship and giggling lovers.

"Chalk Farm or Belgravia?" Winston asked as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Belgravia."

"Chalk… it's fine. Drop the boss home first. After being a prisoner for the last few days, I'm happy to be chauffeured around London."

"You'll stay with me," Tommy said in a tone that brooked no negative reply.

"No, I'm going home. Why would I stay with you?" Tommy's face fell, and Barbara winced. "I didn't mean it like that, but I'm okay. I can stay at my place."

"I want you to stay with me."

"That's not a bad idea, Sarge. The boss has servants, and you'd be waited on hand and foot. After what you've been through, you deserve a bit of pampering."

"I have one… assistant. I'm not running Downton Abbey. But Winston's right. It'd do you good to relax and not worry about anything. And it would help my recovery not fretting about how you are every minute of the day and night."

"But… I haven't even got any clothes."

Tommy frowned. "You're right. Chalk Farm first, please Winston. Barbara has to pack a few things."

"But…" Barbara started before giving up. It would be nice to stay somewhere comfortable and have some company. She was still having nightmares about fire and forests. "Yeah, okay, but just a few days."

Tommy smiled and nodded.

She had packed some underwear, loose comfortable pants and jumpers to lounge in, and her best jeans and shirt just in case Tommy decided to go out somewhere. It took her all of 2 minutes to unpack. Her clothes clung together in the cavernous wardrobe of Tommy's spare room like scared orphans. She spread them out a bit to try and make the space look more lived in.

The room was about the size of her reception room, which made it easily twice as large as her bedroom. So was the bed. She sat down and bounced to test the springs. It would be comfortable as it had a good mix of softness on top of a firmer mattress.

She opened a door that she thought was another wardrobe to find an ensuite bathroom with a huge bath, separate shower and a window that overlooked the gardens of his neighbour's townhouses.

She jumped when there was a knock on the door. "Come in, Sir."

The door opened, and a man she had seen before in the distance but had never met walked in. "Denton, Ma'am. Sorry to startle you."

Barbara realised she was staring. It was the first time she had seen Tommy's general factotum close up, and with his round spectacles and bushy brown hair, he looked like an adult Harry Potter. "Er, sorry… Mr Denton? I… I was… nice to meet you."

"And you Ma'am. It's just Denton, no Mister required."

"Is that your Christian name?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Please, I'm not an earl or anywhere close. Please call me Barbara. And I don't feel right calling you Denton."

The man tilted his head but maintained a practice equilibrium. "You're a guest of His Lordship's, and I can't call you Barbara. I'm sorry. Would Miss Havers be better?"

Barbara nodded. She had put him in an awkward spot. "Yes. I'm sorry. I… I don't want to make life difficult for you."

"You haven't. It's the 21st century. Don't feel sorry for me, Miss Havers. I'm not a domestic servant because I have no other options. I chose this life because I enjoy being around the trappings of wealth that I could never afford otherwise. Lord Asherton treats me as an equal, but one with a different role to him. I'm well-paid and have no complaints."

Barbara wished the floor would open up and suck her into a dark void. "I'm sorry, Denton, I didn't mean…"

Denton raised his gloved hand. "I know, but I have heard you and Lord Asherton arguing about politics before. I just wanted to ensure I did not become the subject of one of those arguments because if I were unhappy, I would leave. You'll soon find that Lord Asherton needs looking after, and I'm happy to do that role until such time as…" He bowed and went to leave.

"As what?"

"Until he finds someone else to look after his needs. There'll be tea and cake in the drawing room when you finish unpacking."

"Thank you, that's very kind."

Denton closed the door. Barbara looked around the room but decided to stay in her pyjamas and robe until she could have a bath later. Cake sounded excellent. Where's the drawing room?

She rushed to the door and down the hall. "Denton, wait, please. I don't know where the drawing room is."

Denton smiled. "Allow me to escort you, Miss Havers."

Tommy was sitting in his favourite chair when Barbara padded into the room in her slippers and robe. Something pulled in his chest, making him pause. What? He was struck by how it felt right for her to be here, like this, and not when they were tired and trying to go through the evidence and argue about a case. "I'm glad you agreed to stay. Sit anywhere you like."

"Huh? Oh… yeah, me too." Barbara grabbed a plate that had a cut slice of rich chocolate cake and a fork on it, then sat on the sofa and pulled her legs up under her bottom. "Have you seen that bathroom? It's huge. Oh, of course, you have. Silly me. But wow. I intend to soak in that this afternoon. Maybe all afternoon."

Tommy laughed. "Feel free. Make yourself at home."

Barbara tried the cake. "Oh, wow, this is good,' she said with a mouthful of cake.

"Make sure you tell Denton. He's very proud of his baking skills. Did he ask you what you'd like for lunch?"

"Yeah, on the way down here. He convinced me that he makes the best pies in London, so I said I'd try one."

Tommy nodded. "He does. His venison one is superb, but I suspect he'll make beef and pork for you. That's also very good."

"I stopped him calling me Ma'am. We settled on Miss Havers."

"Charlie is a good man. Don't judge him for his choices."

"Charlie? So that's his name. Do you call him that?"

"Mostly, or Denton. It's a bit like you. Sometimes you're Barbara and at other times, Havers."

"Yeah, I guess. I hadn't looked at it that way. Anyway, handy to know. I can catch him off guard sometime."

"Good luck with that. By the way, Hillier is coming around tomorrow. He wants to see both of us."

"Why? They caught Theodore, and he confessed. I made a report at the hospital. I really don't want to go through it all again."

"Yeah, brave but foolhardy, Hillier called you. Mind you, he's gained extra Brownie points with the Commissioner, given the officer who saved the boy was one of his staff."

"Yeah, that'd be right. All the glory to him."

"No, I think people understand you acted alone. But you could have been killed. In fact, no one knows how you got alive."

"I… I didn't think about the consequences. I saw Simon's face in the window, looking absolutely terrified. I couldn't wait until the bomb squad did their thing. It would have been too late if I had waited."

"But you knew the bomb could explode."

Barbara shrugged. "Dunno. I just wanted to protect the boy. Nothing else mattered."

"Even me?"

"You ran off into the woods."

"After the kidnapper."

"Yeah, but I don't understand then."

"Didn't you think I'd be devastated if anything had happened?"

Barbara looked down. "I didn't analyse the big picture. All I could think about was the boy. And you obviously didn't think I would have been devastated if Theodore was armed and had shot you, so you can't criticise."

Tommy smiled. "Were you worried about me?"

"Of course I was."

"That's good to know. Did you know I fainted when I heard you were inside when the building exploded?"

"Fainted? No… I thought it was from the tree branch."

Tommy shook his head. "No, I remembered it all in the hospital. They told me, and it felt like the world had stopped turning and thrown me off into space. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."

Barbara stopped eating and looked at him. For a second, their eyes locked and he knew he was right. She had told him she loved him.