Author's note: sorry for the delay, it's been a hectic week.

Barbara stood under the warm shower and let the weight of the water wash away her fear. Where was her water spirit when she needed it? Until tonight, her nightmares had been measured as if her mind was sorting through the explosion and its aftermath. Tonight, they had made a sinister turn where the fire raced back to Tommy lying helpless on the ground and engulfed him in white hot flames that took him forever from her. She tried to process what it meant. Was she afraid of losing him? He had been nothing but kind and supportive. He wasn't going anywhere.

Barbara dressed in the fresh oversized pyjamas that Tommy had placed just inside the bathroom door. When she emerged, Tommy was sitting on the stripped bed in a t-shirt and long-legged sleep pants adorned with little racing cars. "Cute pants."

"Mother bought them for me at Christmas. We always exchange one joke present, but it must be useable. This is much better than the elephant underpants with pockets that Judith gave me."

"Pockets?"

"In the ears."

"And the trunk?"

Tommy chuckled. "Yes, a pocket for the Asherton family jewels."

"I see…" Barbara struggled not to laugh.

"No. You won't ever see that."

"The underpants or the jewels?"

Tommy's mouth gaped open. "Umm."

Barbara dug the toenail of her right foot into the ankle of her left leg. "Sorry. Bad joke."

"No. I get it. I… the underpants."

Barbara shifted her weight. "Thanks for stripping the bed."

Tommy looked at her. She could see the relief in his eyes. "I'll have Denton wash it in the morning. Tonight, you can have my bed."

"Where will you sleep?'

"On the couch downstairs."

"No." She said far more vehemently than she had intended. Tommy stood silently as if waiting for her to explain. "I'd… prefer not to be alone."

He smiled and then put his arm over her shoulder. "That's fine. It's a big bed."

Tommy was not joking. His bed was roughly the same size as her bedroom. She glanced around the room. It was surprisingly austere and reminded her of the student rooms she had seen at Cambridge when they had interviewed students – temporary and only superficially personalised.

"Which side?" she asked, noticing that the side closest to the door was disturbed.

"Whichever you prefer. I can pull out the opposite side and sleep head to toe if that makes you more at ease."

Barbara smiled. "Like a sleepover."

"I suppose. I never slept over at anyone's place except when…" Tommy let the sentence trail off.

"Just do it the usual way."

Tommy frowned. "Do what?"

"Sleep. I… it's just good knowing you're there."

Tommy gestured to the bed. "Make yourself at home."

Now Barbara frowned. This conversation was weird, even for a 4 am discussion. "Ta."

She climbed into the bed where he had been sleeping, then slid under the covers to the other side. Tommy climbed in beside her but there was room for a third person to sleep comfortably between them. "Lights on or off?"

"Off's fine."

Barbara heard the click then the room plunged into darkness. In a few seconds, she began to see shapes as her eyes adjusted to the dim light coming in around the corners of the curtains. "Ahhh."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I feel… a bit silly if I'm honest."

"You don't have to be. Do you want to tell me about your nightmare?"

"No."

"That's fine."

Barbara sighed. The weight of the dream was sitting like a weight on her chest making it hard to breathe. "The fire burnt you up and took you away from me."

She felt the bed move beside her. Tommy pulled her into his arms and placed a gentle kiss on her head. "I'm not going anywhere."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because when I thought you'd died, my world ended. You're my oxygen it seems, and I'm hoping I'm yours."

"That's not overly romantic. 'I'm your oxygen.'"

Tommy's grip loosened. "I wasn't trying to be romantic. I understand only too well what an experience like that does and how it makes you want to connect with someone. But I will not take advantage of your vulnerability and ruin our future to satisfy some humanistic urge."

"I'm sorry."

His grip tightened again. "Don't be. Even if I wanted that very much, even if you thought you did, this isn't the time."

"I…" She tried to wriggle free. "I feel silly. I should go and sleep downstairs."

"Why do you feel silly?"

"Because I… for a minute, I thought we would… you know. Now that seems ridiculous because… well…."

"Because I said no?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"Only because I know you'd regret it under these circumstances. But the idea is far from ridiculous. In fact, it's rather appealing."

Barbara froze. Had Tommy just said he wanted to make love to her? "The concussion is still addling your brain."

Tommy chuckled. "Well, we'll just have to see. Now, settle down and get some sleep. Hillier will be here first thing, and we both need clear heads for that."

Barbara groaned but nestled closer to Tommy. This might be the only chance she has to sleep with him, even if it is literally.

Denton knocked twice and then entered Tommy's room in the same routine that he had every morning. Tommy yawned. "Morning, Denton."

"Good morning, M'lord, Miss Havers."

"It's not what it looks like!" Barbara almost shouted as she pulled the bedclothes around her neck. "We weren't… we didn't… I had a nightmare."

Denton smiled at her. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope you were able to get some sleep afterwards. I have changed your bed and remade it should you wish to return tonight."

"You knew?"

Tommy chuckled. "Not much gets past Denton, Barbara."

"I heard you screaming and came to see if I could be of assistance," Denton said matter-of-factly. "Lord Asherton had me fetch fresh pyjamas while you showered. I've started breakfast. Would you like me to cook something, or would you prefer tea and toast?"

"Thank you. Both of you. I feel stupid about last night."

Both men rapidly reassured her that it was understandable.

"Ta. Tea and toast?" Barbara asked, trying to guess what Tommy would want.

"Perfect," Tommy said as he tossed back the covers. "Toast is Barbara's speciality," he told Denton. "We can manage breakfast after we've showered."

"Certainly, M'Lord. I've prepared the conservatory table so you can overlook the garden. I've also put fresh flowers in the drawing room for the arrival of your boss. He's due in…" Denton checked his watch. "One hour and fifteen minutes."

"Thank you, Denton. Perfect as always. "

The young man smiled and left the room. Barbara let go of the bedclothes. "He's very… efficient."

Tommy grinned at her. "And discreet."

"He doesn't have to be discreet. We didn't do anything."

After breakfast, Barbara waited in the drawing room. Tommy came in after he had finished a phone call to his mother. "Mother says she hopes you're feeling better."

"Ta. You didn't tell her about… last night."

"No, I didn't say you slept with me."

"Pfft." Barbara stuck her tongue out. It seemed the most appropriate gesture, even if somewhat infantile.

Tommy grinned at her. "One day, I might be able to say that. Now, I'll go and see why Hillier is late."

Hillier arrived wearing his dress uniform and accompanied by a man neither Tommy nor Barbara recognised. "This is Andrew Sharp," Hillier said, "from the Prime Minister's Office."

They shook hands and then sat. Hillier was in fine form, exuding platitudes and warmth that made Tommy and Barbara exchange suspicious looks.

"Andrew, perhaps you'd like to tell Sergeant Havers."

"We have deemed your actions in saving young Simon to be worthy of an award in recognition of your gallantry."

Barbara frowned. "I just did my job."

"No," Hillier said, "you deliberately ran into a building knowing that there was a bomb that had been set to explode within the next ten minutes, which the Bomb Squad had not yet been able to diffuse. There was always a likelihood that you would not get the boy to safety in that timeframe and that you had a greater than 50 per cent chance of being killed."

"That never entered my mind," Barbara said, shaking her head furiously. "It was about Simon, not about the odds of surviving."

"Nonetheless, the Prime Minister and the Queen have ratified the award of the George Medal."

"Is this just because Simon was the PM's son?"

"No," Sharp said firmly. "However, the political importance of your act did figure in the calculations of whether to award the George Medal or the Queen's Gallantry Medal. The queen has asked if she may present the medal to you. There's a garden party at Buckingham House in two weeks, and while it is extraordinarily quick, we have added your award to that recognition ceremony."

"I…" Barbara looked at Tommy for help, but he was smiling at her with soft, puppy-like eyes that were almost teary. She was not getting any support from him. "Thank you," she said, resigned to her fate.

Barbara strode across the room, flapping her arms as if she was trying to take off. "A bloody garden party. What do I wear? What do I do? The Queen. The bloody Queen."

Tommy took her hand. "Calm down, Barbara. Everything's fine. Come on, breathe in, breathe out. Good and again." When her breathing was under control, he guided her to the sofa. "First, you'll need to wear your dress uniform."

"It doesn't fit. I've put on a few kilos."

"We can address that problem easily. If it's more than five years old, we can have another issued, and my tailor can make any alterations, so it's a perfect fit."

"What do I do? I'm just as likely to call the Queen Liz."

"I'm sure she's had worse. I can train you. It's just a small curtsy, call her Your majesty first, then Ma'am."

"I'll never remember that."

"You will."

"And what do you do at a garden party? I presume they don't issue spades and ask you to weed?"

Tommy laughed. "No… you stand around trying not to ruin your shoes in wet grass and drink champagne."

"Sounds appalling."

"It's an experience. And I'll be there to help. Well, of course, that assumes you'll choose me as your plus one."

"I can take someone?"

"Yes. You can probably invite a few people to watch you receive your award."

Barbara sank back into the sofa. "I thought I'd have to endure it alone."

"You never have to endure anything alone if you… don't want to."

Barbara frowned at him. Sometimes she could be quite dense.