Author's note: Here are the third and last chapters of this story (I divided the "date" part of the story into two just to have chapters of about the same length). Thanks a lot to those of you who posted reviews; your support and encouragements are what keep me writing. Special thanks to Cats for letting me use the title of one of her fanfics (I let you find out which one I'm talking about). I hope you'll find I made a good use of it. Finally, those of you who read my previous fanfics know I usually base my writing on the books, but these chapters are based on the TV series (it does no harm just this once).
Barbara didn't sleep well that night: too many thoughts were running in her head. The memory of Tommy sleeping next to her was still too vivid and she wished they had more nights together. But this was not going to happen. Their bed sharing wasn't a romantic event but merely an accident. For Lynley it probably meant nothing more than if he had shared the bed with Winston. But he wouldn't invite Winston for dinner, would he? They had had dinner together before, even once or twice at his house in Belgravia, but it had been mostly for convenience, so they could talk about an ongoing case over a meal. This time it was different; the case was over with only the paperwork to finish, so Lynley's motivation wasn't professional. Maybe he was feeling lonely, she thought. Simon was touring universities in the USA to give some lectures on forensic science; Deborah and him had been gone for two months already and weren't due back for another couple of months. Lady Asherton was holidaying on the French Riviera; Judith was in Yorkshire and Peter was too busy at Howenstow to come and spend a few days in London with his brother. The idea of being a mere fill-in wasn't pleasant but her own social life wasn't exactly exciting at the moment and how do you say no to a nice dinner in good company? She'd just have to be careful not to drink too much. She didn't want unfortunate words such as 'I love you' to spoil the evening.
She spent the day in a state of agitation. She hated that. It was not like her but she couldn't help; she was at the same time looking forward to the evening with Lynley and fearing it. Several times she thought about calling him to cancel their evening but she reckoned he knew her too well to believe her bad excuses. He would know she'd gotten cold feet and she didn't want to give him that pleasure. He was acutely aware of the effect he had on women; no need to flatter his ego any further. She took a shower, brushed her hair the best she could and even put hairspray on them, put pink on her cheeks and green on her eyelids, removed the pink and green, added lipstick, removed the lipstick, and finally opted for the nice perfume Winston had offered her for her birthday. Classy and discreet. She had a hard time deciding on what to wear; she didn't know where Lynley would take her to dinner. Should she wear formal or casual? Lynley knew she didn't like posh restaurant so no need for the evening dress – which was good because she didn't have one – but that still left her with a lot of possibilities. She tried them all from the jogging suit – see I'm just a woman having dinner with a pal, nothing romantic – to her best suit which she wore when she testified in court – too business-like, not good for a Saturday night in town. In the end, she decided to don the dress she had bought in a bold move some years ago and never had the courage to wear before. By 18:30 she was ready. She sat on her couch and impatiently waited for Lynley to arrive. The hands of her clock took a malign pleasure in slowing their course on the dial; it seemed seven o'clock would never come. As time went by Barbara's anxiety grew. Her stomach was in knots; her mouth, dry. She cursed herself. She felt like a teenager on the night of the school gala. Except she wasn't a teenager anymore and Lynley wasn't her escort to the ball.
He knocked on her door at seven o'clock precisely - if punctuality is the virtue of kings, it's also the one of earls. As Barbara opened the door the first thing she saw was a huge bouquet of flowers and then Lynley's bright smile. As always he was very elegant in light grey suit and tie, and a salmon pink shirt.
'Good evening, Barbara.'
'Evening, Sir.'
He frowned.
'I dare hope you're not going to call me 'Sir' this evening, are you?'
'Why not?'
Because we slept together, Lynley thought before opting for a more neutral reply:
'Because we're not at work.'
'It doesn't change anything. Thanks for the flowers, they're beautiful.'
'So are you.'
'Ta.'
'I mean it, Barbara, you are stunning.'
Barbara went to her kitchenette to put the flowers in a vase. She could feel Lynley's eyes on her and was a little embarrassed; she should have opted for jeans and a T-shirt.
Still in the entrance, Tommy couldn't take his eyes off Barbara. For once she had done her hair but above all she was wearing a red cold shoulder lace midi dress that set off her figure. It was a very beautiful dress, stylish but not sophisticated. He had never seen Barbara wearing something so feminine and he wished she had done it sooner. She was gorgeous. The dress left her shoulders, her upper arms and part of her back naked and Tommy saw that Barbara's skin was white and seemed soft. As she put the flowers in the water, he fought the urge to kiss her neck. That afternoon he had decided this evening was the evening he would tell Barbara he loved her and he had planned the evening and the night carefully but as Barbara stood against the light he noticed the linen of her dress stopped at mid-thigh and his romantic feelings were replaced at once by more carnal ones.
'Where are you going to take me?' Barbara asked innocently.
Any hard surface will do [1], Tommy thought but he answered:
'By the canal but I won't tell you more; I don't want to spoil the surprise.'
Focus, Tommy, focus.
'Good. Shall we go?'
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
'Little Venice,' Barbara said as Lynley pulled his car in a parking lot.
'I thought you may like the place.'
'I do.'
They left the car and walked along Regent's canal until they reached its junction with the Grand union canal. From there they followed the Paddington arm until Tommy stopped before a restaurant, the Paddington Inn.
'Here we are.'
The restaurant was a two-storey building or rather it was the stacking of three terraces as it had no walls but only dark timbers brightened up here and there by red geraniums in window-boxes. The bar occupied the ground floor and was packed with groups of young professionals, couples and the occasional tourists. The atmosphere was lively and relaxed. Barbara felt relieved that Lynley had chosen this place and not one of the classy restaurants he was used too. She could be herself here. Tommy went to the counter and talked briefly to the barmaid. She indicated the stairs at the end of the room. Tommy went back to Barbara.
'Our table's ready.'
He had to speak louder than usual to be heard and it lifted Barbara's latest fear. One could not have a romantic dinner in a place like this - one just doesn't shout love words - so this was definitely a night out between friends.
Lynley preceded her in the stairs and they climbed to the second floor where a waiter was waiting for them. He led them to a table overlooking the canal. On this floor the noise from the ground floor was reduced to a low hubbub that didn't hinder conversation. As they reached their table, Tommy walked past the waiter to help Barbara with her chair. He then settled in his own and ordered two glasses of champagne.
'Er, I'd rather have a pint,' Barbara said.
'I thought you liked champagne,' Lynley told her, rather destabilized.
'I do but…
'No but, then' and he confirmed his order.
After the waiter has left, leaving them with two menus, Barbara decided to make things clear with Lynley.
'This place's nice and I don't want to make a fuss but I'm way passed the time when one could dictate me what to eat or drink, Sir.'
Tommy looked at her, baffled.
'I'm sorry, Barbara, I did not intend to dictate you anything.'
'But you did. And I'll end up with a glass of bubbly wine that would cost me more than two pints.'
'It won't cost you anything.'
'You mean it's your round?'
'You're my guest, Barbara.'
'So the dinner...' she eyed him suspiciously.
'Is on me, yes,' he replied with a smile.
'Good, now that's settled maybe we could have ordered a bottle of champagne, no?'
Tommy laughed.
'Have a look at the menu and if you still want champagne with your dinner, you'll have it.'
'I'm going to put your debit card on fire,' she said as she opened the menu. After a few seconds, she lowered the menu, looked at Lynley and whispered:
'There's no price on my menu.'
'That's normal.'
'No, it's not. All restaurants I ever went to had menus with prices, so you know what to expect when the waiter gives you the bill.'
Tommy smiled.
'I told you, Barbara, you're my guest so the waiter gave you a guest's menu. You don't have the prices on because you're free to choose whatever you want without taking the price into consideration.'
'How am I supposed to ruin you if I don't know what the most expensive dishes are?' she asked indignantly.
'I trust your feminine instinct.'
Barbara laughed but she was discomfited; it was not the first time that Lynley explicitly acknowledged her as a woman but it always felt at once disconcerting and nice. The waiter came back with their glasses and took their orders.
'How did I manage?' Barbara asked.
'Hmmm, about average I'd say. I won't have to sell my lands to cover the cost of your dinner but I'm glad I have more than my DI salary.'
'Does that mean I can have more champagne?'
Tommy laughed:
'You're learning fast!'
'I've a good teacher,' she replied cheerfully. 'So, what do we toast to?'
'To us; may the road ahead of us bring us happiness and joy.'
'That'd be nice.'
They clunked glasses.
[1] If you don't already know this story by Cats I encourage you to read it ;-)
