It was nearly eight o'clock on Friday morning and Barbara was already in the office sorting through the paperwork. This was the worst part of the job and when Tommy walked in about fifteen minutes later she was grateful for the interruption.

"Come through to my office Havers, when you have a moment." It was Tommy using his most formal Lord Lynley voice. She glanced at Winston but he just raised his eyebrows. He had no idea what it was about either. Barbara wondered for a moment if she had done something wrong but could not see how. They had parted on good terms last night when he dropped her home.

"Ok Sir." She followed him into his office. He waited and then shut the door behind her. "Oh God," she groaned inwardly, "there is something wrong."

"What's wrong Sir?" she ventured.

"Wrong? No, no there's nothing wrong Barbara." His voice was softer and slightly confused. "Sorry I must have sounded a bit hard, did I?"

"A bit."

"I didn't sleep again; nightmares and then I stayed up pacing."

"The case? I'm sorry. Why didn't you call me? I would have come over."

"No, not the case." Barbara understood instantly that his memories had been troubling him.

"I still would have come over if you needed me."

Tommy nodded. He had been tempted to call her, or to drive back to her flat and knock on the door. He had done both many times before when he struggled with the memories of Helen and the shooting. After she died he had disappeared into a haze of alcohol and self-pity. Barbara had always been there when he needed it whether; just holding him while he cried or telling him to pull himself together. She always knew exactly what to say.

He shrugged, "You were tired Barbara, the last thing you needed was me feeling sorry for myself." He sounded a bit better now.

"Yes but you were just as exhausted. If you needed me I would have been there".

"I know Barbara, thank you." Tommy smiled and gently squeezed the top of her arm before he moved around his desk and sat down. There was an awkward silence and Barbara wondered whether she should stay or leave. "Was there anything else Sir?"

"Yes actually, do you have any plans for tomorrow afternoon that you can't change?"

Tomorrow afternoon? Barbara was puzzled. It was a Saturday and they were both on call but with the case closed she had only planned to take some of the dreaded paperwork home and do her washing. Not exactly tasks she relished and could not give up for something more interesting.

"No... No not really, why?"

"Is the blue suit you wear to court clean?"

'Yes!" what a strange question. "I am not in the habit of wearing dirty clothes Sir."

"No, no of course not. I'm sorry I didn't mean to imply that; I am a bit behind in my domestics over the last couple of weeks and thought you might be too. Can you wear that then? I will pick you up at 14:30."

"Care to tell me where we are going Sir?

"No not really." Tommy was clearly embarrassed. "It is Asherton business but I would really like you to come with me. It's only about an hour and besides I think it will amuse you."

"Sir, you know I'm not comfortable with that side of your life. I don't fit in with your friends. They make me feel … uncomfortable," Barbara protested. She wanted to say inadequate but she knew he would huff and puff about it too much if she did. But why did he look so embarrassed?

He rose and came around the desk and sat on the edge facing her. This was an argument he knew he was always going to have with her. The class difference of their birth mattered far more to her than to him. He realised that this was the main reason he had not told her how he felt about her. He was so tempted to just grab her and kiss her and show her how little he cared about all that nonsense; to tell her he only cared about her and how she felt about him, not about her background. But he didn't really know how she felt about him and knew she would think he was just asserting his 'natural right to rule'. He thought at times he could tell but when she arced up about his background he was uncertain; surely if she loved him their differences should not matter to her either.

She went to speak but when he looked her straight in the eyes her argument was silenced. She didn't recognise what she saw – was it pleading? She could not say no. "Ok, but promise me you won't let me make of fool of you," she said accepting her fate. "Or me." she added hastily.

His face lit up with a broad grin and Barbara felt her heart begin to effervesce. She liked it when she made him happy. Whatever tomorrow was she had probably endured worse. At that time of the day and needing a suit it did not sound like she needed to remember which knife and fork to use first. She could not help but grin back at him but she would much prefer he just told her what torture he had planned.

"Also Havers you are not eating properly," he stated grimly.

"Oh no," she thought, "I am going to have to eat with them."

"So I am going to cook for us both tonight. Come around about 19:00." It was almost an order.

Why tonight? It was her favourite TV show tonight and she had planned to just veg out in front of it.

"I know your favourite show is on," he said grinning "so we can eat and then watch that if you like." She wondered if he was reading her mind now. All her excuses were vanishing and she liked the idea of having company. She was about to say yes when Winston popped his head through the door. He needed her help interviewing a teenage runaway that had just been brought in.

"Ok, 19:00 it is," she said glancing at Tommy before she left. He looked pleased.