Hi, thanks for your reviews and messages. I have been moving house so little time to write over the last month. The next chapter will also be a few days.

It was four days before he dared mention the wedding. On the drive home and over dinner at the pub they had mainly picked apart the seminar and discussed how they would write their report. When he had insisted on taking her home he had hoped she would invite him in for a drink but instead she had said goodnight as she hopped out of the car and hurried inside. The next morning he had picked her up early to drive to a crime scene in Richmond and they had been immersed in the stabbing murder of a middle aged man ever since.

Following Barbara's hunch they had just reinterviewed his wife. They had left her in the interrogation room to confer over a coffee from the machine in the corridor. Tommy had sensed the woman was concealing animosity towards her dead husband. "She's grieving but not for her husband," he told Barbara.

Barbara screwed her face into a question. "I don't understand."

"She's grieving her life, not the man."

"How can you tell?"

"What made you think she did it?"

"Dunno, instinct? Women's intuition?"

"Call this my instinct then but I'm sure I'm correct. Just the way she answered some of the questions. It reminded me..."

Barbara reached out and patted his forearm. "I'm sure you're right but from all accounts he was an unpleasant man."

"Even so, he still deserves justice."

Barbara admired the way Tommy conducted the interview. He was compassionate yet unrelenting in finally securing her confession. Her story of years of emotional abuse struck a chord with Barbara. She could understand how a women subjected to constant criticism and emotional abuse and who lived in fear of upsetting her unpredictable, volatile husband could finally snap and stab him repeatedly with her carving fork. Lynley had coaxed the details from her gently although Barbara wondered why he focussed so much on the history of abuse as it was clearly upsetting to the woman. As the killer was led away in tears by a policewoman Barbara followed Tommy to his office.

"Sir."

"Just a minute Barbara please." He gestured to a chair, indicating she should sit. He grabbed his phone and dialled. "Good afternoon. May I speak with James Bladesmith please?" He covered the mouthpiece, "won't be a minute."

Barbara waited and found her admiration for Tommy grew. Bladesmith was an Old Etonian who headed a charity for the prevention of domestic violence both physical and emotional. Within ten minutes Tommy had arranged support services and legal representation for the woman all without giving away information that might jeopardise the case or contravening regulations.

"That was kind Sir."

"She has to face justice but her story should be told. There are too many women out there suffering. Just because he rarely hit her does not mean he wasn't abusive."

"Families do a lot of harm don't they?"

"Not always," he demurred, "they can also do a lot of good. Mind you every family has their issues. Speaking of which..." He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"No! Nothing has changed on that front. I told you that topic was closed." Barbara's softness towards her boss vaporised. "I'll go write up my report then head home. The plumber is coming over to fix my boiler."

Tommy shook his head. "Impossible, stubborn, infuriating woman," he said under his breath then smiled. It was just how he liked her.

It was another three days before they had a chance to talk about anything other than the drowning of an old man in the upper reaches of the Thames. The body had been caught in the reed lined banks below Hampton Court. Stuart Lafferty found no evidence of foul play. It was possible the man, who had been living in a nearby nursing home had either fallen in and drowned or had chosen to end his life. They had searched valiantly for motives and opportunities amongst the staff and family but in the end had concluded that there was no further work they could do.

At five o'clock Barbara knocked on his office door. "Winston's typing up the report for the Coroner's Office," she told him smugly. "I said it was good practice for his sergeant's exams."

"Hmm, and your DI exams? What should I give you to do to help?" he replied as he spread his hand over his paperwork.

"Advice as we have a drink," she said flatly.

Tommy frowned slightly when he recognised her serious tone. "A drink sounds like perfect training."

They sat at their usual table at the back of the pub away from the brass-trimmed, battered, old oak bar that was crowded with young office workers in suits. "Advice?" Tommy asked as they took their first sip of the thick, creamy ale.

"I was thinking about the course and some of those questions we had to ask each other," she said slightly nervously. "Remember that question where I told you that I thought you needed to learn to forgive yourself and not blame yourself for everything that went wrong so you could move on with your life?"

"Yes, and you are right Barbara but it doesn't happen overnight," he said trying hard not to sound defensive.

She smiled at him and bit her bottom lip. He could tell she had something on her mind. "Well that applies to me too."

Tommy knew this could end disastrously if he said too much. "Hmm," he said non-commitedly.

"I've blamed myself for for years for causing my parents to be like they were after Terry's death but you can't make someone do something like that can you?"

Her voice was cracking slightly and Tommy noticed tears welling and threatening to spill. He understood her pain and self-blame. He slid around the booth and put his arm around her shoulder. "No, you can't. Barbara, your parents were the adults. They were devastated after your brother died but they had a responsibility to you too. From what you've said they never talked it through with you and left you to cope alone while they fell apart."

She nodded vigorously. "Pretty much."

"We all grieve differently. I think you were trying to confront them; to make them understand you were suffering too. I can understand why you felt abandoned, even unloved, but being angry with them didn't cause them to retreat from you...it just made it harder for them to ever come back."

"They didn't love me as much as Terry. I think they wished it had been me not him."

He gave her shoulder a reassuring hug. "I doubt that Barbara. I think they simply couldn't cope with losing him. You reminded them of everything but they shut down instead of talking to you about it and that hurt you nearly as much as his death didn't it?"

She nodded and he pulled her tightly into his shoulder. "I'm sorry Barbara."

"It wasn't your fault."

"No, I'm sorry that I did the same thing," he said as he leant his cheek against her head, "when Helen died."

"It's not the same. You lost your wife."

"You were there when she died. You may not have felt the same loss but I pushed you away. I just couldn't talk about it but I should have, especially with you. I knew that the day you found me on the hill but I wasn't ready then. Instead I did what your parents did. I wallowed in my own self-pity. I ignored your pain and made it worse because I retreated from you. I know That sounds egotistical but I can see now that I hurt you and I'm sorry. I was selfish and stupid." He had never thought about that way before. He always had justifications to rationalise it all in his mind but he knew, deep down, that he had been too scared to confront his real feelings about his marriage and about Barbara.

"You know a few times I went around and sat outside your flat. I could hear you inside drinking and crying and calling out."

Tommy was surprised. He blushed, knowing he had not always called out for Helen. "You never knocked?"

"It wasn't my place. I just sat...willing you to stop tormenting yourself; wishing I could help."

He took a deep breath. "Barbara...did you ever hear me call for you?"

She looked up and frowned. "No." She pulled away. "Sorry, I know it was wrong. I know I should have left you until you wanted to talk but I...I was wasn't prying... I was...trying to keep you safe."

Barbara stood up and fled leaving Tommy bewildered. He ran through the conversation in his mind and realised her assumption. "No Barbara! Wait!"

He found her slumped against the cold, sludgy brown brick wall in the alleyway two shops down from the pub. She looked alone, sad and defeated. He walked up to her slowly. "You misunderstood," he said quietly, "I used to call out for you at times. I needed you Barbara."

She looked up at him with sad, sympathetic eyes. "You did?"

"I wished you were there with me because I knew you would understand. I knew you would listen; would care about my feelings irrespective of how illogical they were. I wanted you to be there...to tell him it would be alright. Do you know how many times I picked up my phone to call you? And there you were outside my door after all."

"Of course I cared."

"I know. That's why I couldn't call. I was too ashamed to let you see me like that."

"In case I stopped caring?"

"Yes, I thought you might leave me too."

"Oh Sir, never. You know that. But I just couldn't intrude. I tried to once but you told me there was a fine line between caring friend and interference."

"Yes and I went on to make a complete hash of things didn't I? I wasn't thinking straight. My thoughts swirled uncontrollably during that time Barbara. I knew that. It was one of the reasons I never called. I thought the effort of being my friend then might destroy what we had. I couldn't risk losing you as a friend. You mean too much to me to lose."

She smiled shyly not quite able to look at his eyes. "Even if it meant not having a friend when you needed one?"

"Yes, something like that," he conceded with a wan smile. "Now do you want to finish your pint?"

"Not there."

"My place then. We can walk." Tommy slipped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a hug. This time he left it there as they walked in silence, both lost in their memories and fears.

Tommy settled Barbara into his lounge then retrieved two cold beers from his kitchen. "I think beer might be best tonight. Anything stronger wouldn't be good for either of us."

"Hmm," she agreed as she quickly gulped half of her bottle. They were sitting on opposite ends of his couch looking nervously at each other. Barbara took a deep breath. "Is your offer still open?"

Momentarily confused Tommy wondered exactly what she was asking. His thoughts had been focussed on how he could slide down the couch and kiss her and tell her he wanted her as more than a friend. "Offer?"

"To be my plus one at the wedding."

He was both happy and disappointed. "Yes, yes of course."

"I've been thinking I should go. You were right. I think it will help heal old wounds." Tommy smiled at her the way that always affected her. This time she had less of a sexual reaction and more of a feeling of deep fondness for him. She knew she was in love with him and she was having more and more trouble hiding it.

"I'd be honoured to escort you Barbara. What capacity where you thinking?"

"Capacity?"

"Yes, you mentioned you...were uncertain how they would take to our relationship. Do you want to say we're friends or..." He paused searching for the right words, "or do you want to imply we are...lovers."

Barbara noticed the tips of his ears shining brightly. "Tommy the red-eared best friend," she sang to herself and wondered where that had come from. Her nervous mind worked in weird ways. He could be quite adorably awkward and sweet sometimes and it made her want to hug him as hard as she could. It was tempting to readily agree to pretending to be lovers. Surely at a wedding lovers had to touch each other, maybe even sneak a quick kiss or a hug. She felt her face flush brighter than his ears. She sighed knowing that she would never be able to act that out then go back to being friends. "Friends. I'm allowed to have a friend. I...I wouldn't know how to act otherwise. Definitely friends please Sir."

"Friends generally don't call each other Sir," he said mischievously.

"I'll try not to call you anything."

"And if you need to refer to me in conversation?"

"Oh that's easy. I always think of you as Tommy." He looked up quickly and she gasped at her confession. "I...I mean...well it's sort of easier."

He laughed softly and moved up the sofa until he was beside her. "Then it should be easy enough to start calling me by my name all the time."

She edged away. "No, no that's much harder."

"Why?"

"Because it would...seem too...," she searched for a word other than 'tempting', "too forward."

Tommy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "How is it forward if I ask you to do it?"

She glanced quickly at her watch. "Oh look, it's much later than I thought. I should be getting home."

"Don't change the subject Barbara."

"It wouldn't seem...professional."

He counted to ten silently. "We have moved well beyond professional Barbara. We moved beyond that in our first case. Remember Fiona Knight saying we were quite the team. We are Barbara. We are so much more than normal partners. Sometimes I feel more married to you than I did to Helen."

The intensity of his eyes caught her out. Barbara slipped of the sofa and landed on her tail with a thud. She had tucked her right foot under her thigh but when she leant forward in the hope he might kiss her she overbalanced. "Arrghh!"

Tommy was shocked to see her disappear from his vision. He had been about to kiss her when she had vanished. Concern quickly turned to humour when he saw she was uninjured. "What are you doing down there Barbara?" He tried hard not to laugh.

"I...I fell."

Tommy lost his battle and laughed loudly as he slid off the sofa next to her. With a big grin he grabbed her ankles and rearranged her legs so they could sit together with their backs to the couch. "Is it such a shock to hear me say we are friends?"

Barbara had been stunned by his touch. It was firm and purposeful but even through her socks burned into her. She whimpered when he removed his hands and was rewarded with another huge smile as he settled back next to her. "No, of course we are friends..." She took a big, calming breath. "Tommy."

His heart fluttered at the sound of his name on her lips. She had said it softly as if it was the most sacred word she knew. Without conscious thought he put his arm around her and nestled her into his shoulder. "Thank you," he said as he gently kissed the top of her head.

Barbara happily snuggled into him. Their relationship had changed with that one word. "You were right. It wasn't that bad after all."

If ever there was a time to kiss her now was it. He looked down at her sweet face. Despite clear apprehension and uncertainty he could see the desire in her eyes. It was a tender, almost loving look veiling a darker, more urgent passion. "Barbara..." He moved closer to her.

Barbara was so scared she had stopped breathing but she wanted this more than anything. She smiled softly and Tommy moved towards her as if he had been waiting for permission. She could feel his breath on her cheek. She braced for the soft caress of his lips.

Tommy swore colourfully in her ear as the door bell rang. "Who in the name of heaven...?"

Barbara could see the irony and humour that eluded Tommy and began to laugh. "Maybe you should answer it."