Author's note: Okay, so you could have had a long Ch 2 or a slightly shorter Ch 2 and a Ch 3. So, stay tuned...
Barbara held up the triangle of stiff nylon lace that had irritated her skin. "Never again."
She bent and picked up the pantyhose. There was a small tear in the heel where her finger had caught it pulling them off. They could go too. She rolled the thong into them then balled them up and threw it as far as she could. They landed three feet in front of Tommy. Barbara then turned and stomped off through the trees towards the road.
Tommy stood still, then smiled. While he had no idea how it felt to wear lacy underwear, he remembered Judith walking like a bow-legged cowboy as a teenager when she had worn sexy underwear to impress a young man at a dance. Thank goodness men could wear boxers.
Barbara was not heading towards the party but towards the road. Where's she going? Home? She hasn't got her shoes. Tommy was about to go after her but paused. She would be horrified to know he had seen… well, everything. He turned to walk back to his car. He could drive down the road and intercept her making it seem as if he was just leaving the party and had found her shoes. He took two steps then stopped. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Turning back, he scooped up the pantyhose and shoved them into his pocket.
Barbara trudged down the pathway almost oblivious to the rough gravel under her feet. Without the burning itch of that cheap black lace and the discomfort of the string chafing her with every step, she felt free. Free from expectations and free from her own silly romantic notions. What's the point of trying to feel sexier if the person you loved was unobtainable?
"Have you lost something?"
The Bristol slowed beside her. Barbara's face flushed red. How could he know?
"I found your shoes," he said holding them out of his car window.
She snatched them. "Ta."
"Are you intending to walk home barefooted?"
"Yep. They were… too tight." She quickened her pace. Now she could feel the pebbles pressing into her soles. As soon as he was out of sight, she would put them on.
"Hop in. I'll drive you home."
Barbara hesitated for half a second then remembered her lack of underwear. She couldn't sit in the car with him like that. Not that he'd know, but she would. "Nah. Thanks anyway but I need the walk."
"It's over three miles. You don't need to walk."
"I'm just going to the bus stop. That's not far."
"Havers, just get in the car."
Barbara heard the frustration in his order. He couldn't persuade her, so had needed to command her, and she could hear his disappointment in her. "I don't want to bother you," she said softly. "You should be at the party."
"It was boring, and without my snarky sergeant to entertain me, I have no interest. We showed our faces. Duty done. I would much prefer to spend the evening with you."
"You must be hard up. Did Sandra say no?"
"Sandra?" He chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, no, nothing like that. I was at university with her father. I was passing on my regards for the season."
You were ogling her at the same time. "That's nice."
"Are you going to stop walking and talk to me? What's upsetting you?"
"Nothing."
"A word that strikes fear into the heart of every man. Come on, Barbara, let me take you home. Or we can go for a drink if you'd prefer."
She certainly couldn't go to the pub, but a drink would be very welcome. "Umm... I should head home."
"Would you rather come to Belgravia?"
He wasn't giving up. "I… Nah, but we can have a drink at mine."
He stopped the car. Barbara took a deep breath and climbed in. This could be disastrous.
December 22: The Next Morning
Winston saw Stuart wave through the glass panel in the door. He hurried over. "Well?"
"Not here." Lafferty led him into the toilets and handed him an envelope. "Make sure you put them on each other's desks so they are discovered after the other has just left the room."
"What? How?"
"You'll figure it out. You've got two days"
Winston opened the envelope to see two smaller ones inside. "What do they say?"
"I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say, I love you. Haven't we played this game long enough? Let's meet just before midnight on Christmas Eve by the fountain at Piccadilly."
The young detective screwed up his nose. "I know no ways to mince it? That's not very romantic."
"From the Bard, Henry the Fifth. She'll think it is typical of Lynley to quote something instead of saying it plainly, and he'll recognise it and think she's looked it up."
Winston scratched his cheek then rubbed his eye. "I don't know. This is risky. What if one turns up and the other doesn't? And why Piccadilly? It'll be busy there."
"Eros."
"Huh?"
"The fountain. Eros, the god of love. Once they're there, they can work out where to go."
"Like the nearest hotel," Winston said as a huge grin broke across his face.
"Not likely on Christmas Eve."
"But Lynley'd manage it." Winston nudged his co-conspirator. "Let's hope this works and next year all that sexual tension won't crackle around my head in the office. Should we go and watch?"
"Risky, but tempting. No, I think this is something they need to do alone."
Barbara yawned and rubbed her eyes. The fire in her crotch had subsided thanks to an icy bath and half a tube of aloe vera. She checked her phone. There were no messages, but she hadn't expected one. It was nothing unusual for them to have a few drinks at her place. She had been very careful to sit demurely, Ironically, knowing she had no underwear on had made her feel incredibly sexy and slightly uninhibited when she was so close to him in the car and on her sofa. Had he noticed? He had not shown any interest in sliding closer or kissing her. Regardless, it had been a pleasant end to a painful evening.
She began a text. Thanks for last night.
No. That sounds as if they had... She definitely didn't want to give that impression if she was killed en route to work and someone opened her phone. Thanks for rescuing a damsel in distress last night.
No. Too... revealing of the truth. Thanks for driving me home.
There, that couldn't be misinterpreted. She hit send.
Thanks for driving me home.
Tommy smiled as he read the message. He would have loved nothing more than driving himself home had the opportunity arisen. Sitting beside her knowing that she had nothing underneath that flowing black dress had nearly driven him mad. He had waited anxiously for the slightest sign that she wanted him to kiss her, but none came.
Even earls rescue damsels in distress.
He pressed send hoping she understood and saw the humour.
My prince in disguise?
Tommy raised an eyebrow. That sounded hopeful. He replied with a winking emoji followed by a laughing one. Nothing too overt he hoped.
He was still grinning as he gathered his suit to drop at the drycleaners after work.
December 24: Christmas Eve
The day after the party, Winston had been taken by Sergeant Crosby to interview a witness in Richmond before either of the erstwhile lovers had arrived at the office. By the time he got back, they were in Southwark interviewing someone else. Yesterday, he had been required for "jolly duty" on Hampstead Heath as part of the Positive Policing campaign. He rang Stuart, "what if I can't do it today?"
"Then we could try New Year's valentines, but there'll be so many people in town, it might not work."
"Yeah. Today. It's got to be today."
Winston only had to wait until mid-morning for the DI to walk close to Barbara's desk. She was tussling with the printer at the end of the row and attracting attention as she cursed it in her unique way.
"Do you need a hand, Barbara?" Tommy asked as he put his hand on her desk near her bag.
Perfect!
"Ta."
As their boss helped Barbara clear the paper jam, Winston slipped the valentine into her oversized handbag.
Delivering Lynley's valentine was trickier, but when Tommy drove them all to the pub when they finished work at noon, Winston dropped it onto the driver seat as Tommy and Barbara were both turned away as they alighted. He angled it so that it would look like Barbara had dropped it there.
Mission accomplished. Now he just had to wait.
"Hang on," Tommy said as he got out of the car. "I just want to drop my suit at the drycleaners. I'll meet you in there."
"Sure. We'll wait."
Tommy opened his boot and pulled out his suit just a Barbara turned around. She gasped. Hanging out of the pocket, clearly visible against the pale grey cloth was the foot of a black stocking. No, it couldn't be. Must be Sandra's... but he came home with me. Then she saw the small hole near the heel where she caught it as she pulled them off. My pantyhose! How? Did you... oh, holy fu...
She watched as Tommy sauntered up the street.
"Come on Barb. Our beer's waiting."
She turned. "Sorry. Change of plans. I can't stay."
Barbara ran to the Tube station and pushed past the crowd and onto the first train. It wasn't even going in the right direction. She sank into the seat in the furthest corner of the carriage and buried her head in her hands. What did you see? How can I ever face you again?
"That'll be £15," the attendant said as she wrote out the ticket stub. "An extra pound for the stockings."
"Stockings?" Tommy saw the toe protruding from the pocket. He snatched them up and shoved them deep into the pocket of his overcoat. "Just the suit, thanks."
Winston waited by the bar. He hoped that Barbara had not reacted badly to the valentine. But would she have seen it yet? He had been with her. She hadn't opened her bag.
"Where's Barbara?" Tommy asked when he arrived, "and why are you sweating?"
"I dunno. She got weird when you went to the drycleaners. Said she forgot other plans or something. It's hot in here, isn't it?"
"Yes." Lynley mumbled. He looked as if he had just seen the ghost of Scrooge. "I just remembered. I have to go too. Bye."
Winston stood looking at his boss as he darted out the door. He reached for his phone and called Stuart. "I think we're in real trouble."
***TBC
