Author's note: I've changed the name of the restaurant in the previous chapter, the following scenes and the staff are pure products of my imagnation and they partly don't come off well. I'm sure the original restaurant is worth a visit and I don't want to harm them. So, now it's the Kernow.

And sorry for the delay, but sometimes that funny thing called Real Life hits you ;-) This chapter loitered in the drawer for quite a while and I had no time for the upload.

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They walked through the door of the Kernow just in time for not getting wet. It had started to rain again.

"...evening!" Thomas nodded to the waiter at the entrance while opening his coat.

"Good evening... Sir! Did you make a reservation?"

Barbara very well noticed the look and the little pause he made before the Sir.

Somebody else cares for what we're wearing! she thought. Bloody...!

"Yes, for sure. It's Asherton, seven thirty."

Haha, fly guy, you took the higher one.

The waiter said an arrogant "Aha...!" through his nose and started to search his list. It visibly sunk in that he better had to be a little more polite and immediately he changed his behaviour.

In the meantime Thomas helped Barbara off with her coat and then stood there waiting patiently with both coats over his arm.

"Yes, Sir, let me take your coats, Lord Asherton. And would you mind following to your table..." he waved another waiter and gave him the coats.

Bah! Grovelling bumsucker! Barbara thought and syrupy simpered.

As if he had read her mind Thomas squeezed her elbow and winked. Walking to the table he held her hand.

The restaurant was well patronized. They took their seats at a table on the first floor right at a window overlooking the harbour.

"Beautiful view!" Barbara admired.

Thomas put his reading spectacles on.

"Beautiful view!" Barbara admired in his direction and went rosy.

"What?" Thomas asked irritated.

"Your specs." Now she blushed. "You look so... cute."

Thomas made a smiling chortle and shook his head. "Now, when you reach my age..."

"Dear me...!"

They studied the menu card but Barbara had no idea what to choose and sighed.

"Trust me?" he asked and Barbara lowered the card. Thomas ordered for both.

When they waited for the starters they occasionally sipped at their wines, stared out of the window or smiled at each other but didn't talk much. Barbara still was feeling uneasy in that elegant surroundings and she really hated that worm of a waiter who left his place at the entrance to attend his Lordship.

She didn't motion when he brought the wine, she inspected the harbour intensely through the window when he brought the cutlery and she was over-busy with putting the serviette on her lap when he brought an amuse-gueule.

Thomas noticed it.

"Young man!?" he adressed the not-so-young waiter.

"Yes, Lord Asherton?"

"We really don't need to receive special treatment, Sir, and we affect not to keep you from your important duty at the entrance." Thomas smiled in a way that was comparable with Barbara's syrupy simper and that left no room to misunderstand him. "We content ourselves with being attended by your colleague, that delightful young lady that is normally responsible for this area."

"Just as you wish, Sir." the waiter said with a wry smile and with an adumbrated bow he exited.

"Just as you wish, Sir." Barbara aped him and muttered "...bloody bootlicker!"

Thomas smiled. "He is. And he's just doing his job, you Grumpy."

"Yes. Now. At the entrance. Keeping the ragtag and bobtail out of his fine house."

The young colleague now served the starters with a shy smile.

"I appreciate how you verbally kicked him in his ass."

"But even if you think, and you know you are alone in this opinion, that you don't fit in this restaurant you don't have to underline your imaginary difference by swearing. As much as I agree with your names for him." Thomas said with a wink.

"Sorry." Barbara blushed and ate silently.

He's right, she thought. I really am narky on those occasions. Bullsh...

"I'm sorry." she repeated as if she said it aloud.

"Well, that pale bleeder didn't hear it, did he." Thomas grinned and made Barbara chuckle.

With that being clarified and with the over-officious waiter out of the way the further conversation was much more easier. They both picked samples from the other's dishes and lightly talked about the multiple attractions of St. Ives.

"There is for example the Barbara Hepworth Museum or the famous Tate Gallery."

"Mhm..."

"You don't have to be deeply interested in arts to wander hand in hand through huge rooms and look at-"

"...things?" Barbara chuckled.

"Naaah." Thomas shook his head. "When the weather's fine I'll take you to the Sculpture Garden. No backtalk! There are enough corners to have a smooching." He grinned.

Barbara couldn't backtalk, she had a mouthful of cod and besides she agreed in the smooching.

"Or we just stroll through the streets, buy some souvenirs, some fudge, or some art objects..."

"...to stuff them in my tiny flat..."

Thomas raised one eyebrow and dipped a chunk of bread in the gravy.

Barbara told him that she heard of the Chapel of St. Nicholas on top of the peninsula in the north.

"You want to pray?" Thomas grinned.

"No, but it might be worth a walk."

"St. Ives has four beaches." Thomas suggested.

"You want to dive again?" Barbara blushed a little.

"Good idea!" Thomas started to play footsie.

"Stop that!" Barbara hissed with a sideglance into the restaurant.

Thomas giggled.

"Or we simply keep ourselves warm and cosy in the cottage, make some love, watch some telly, make some love, go to the coop and buy some food, make some love, let some fish'n'chips be delivered, make some love, ..."

"Thomas!" Barbara said sharply and blushed to the roots of her hair.

"What?" Thomas suggestively grinned. "It's what we're here for, isn't it."

"I thought we are here so I don't have to join that posh party."

The waitress took the empty plates and had surely heard that last remark. Barbara smiled at her. "Thank you."

And to Thomas: "We really can go for a walk, this village is too nice to be ignored."

The waitress was now out of earshot.

"And make love afterwards?" Thomas took Barbara's hand. "When we're back at the Met we might be too busy again. I want to savour every second I have here alone with you and no sister and no friends and no colleagues and above all with no work around." He placed a kiss on her hand. "Time is short. This cornish dream will at the latest end on the second of January when we're back at the Yard."

Barbara sadly looked out of the window.

"We'll have to talk about it." she mumbles. "'bout how we'll act concerning..." she shyly screwed up her napkin on the table. "...this..."

Thomas waited for her finding the right words though he already knew what she meant.

Barbara cleared her throat. "Our affair."

"Is it an affair?" Thomas asked.

Barbara shook her head. "Mmmh – what is it, then?"

"I'd call it a ... wonderful relationship." He took a deep breath and traced the bonelines on the back of her hands with his fingertips. "And it's not just the sexual part that I feel blessed with." he whispered.

"I'm afraid of the reality back in London." Barbara caressed his tracing finger with her own.

"So am I."

They lingered a while in their own thoughts, gently touching.

"But didn't we cope well with it since that... argue?" Thomas continued.

"We did. But we were busy. Very busy."

"Indeed."

"And at that time we had not yet..."

"Hmmm." Thomas smiled enamoured. "Indeed."

"Will we keep it a secret?"

"At first? Would be better, you think?"

"Straight chain of command, Sir."

Thomas smiled about that Sir. "You're right... Havers." It was the most affectionate Havers Barbara had ever heard.

"You better not say it this way in the office, Sir." she breathed.

"I call you whatever I wish in my office, Havers." They drowned in each others eyes.

"Back to topic, Sir." Barbara said huskily. "We'll keep it a secret?"

"As long as you wish, love."

"I don't want to be seperated and relegated to another DI." There was a hint of panic in her words.

"Why would they? We're the best team of all the Met."

"You know that the Chief Super lurks and when an opportunity like this comes up... She'll send me off to the middle of nowhere as fast as lightning."

"She'll probably do this." A flash of memory crossed Thomas' mind. Isabelle sure would take it personally.

"How long will we hide?" Barbara asked gloomily.

"I hate that." Thomas huffed and squeezed her hand.

Barbara nodded. She felt tears coming up. It isn't fair! she thought.

"I'll talk to Hillier. He won't separate us. We'll keep it a secret for a while and..."

"How long?" Barbara asked again.

Thomas shrugged. "At least one major case, I think. Or two? To prove we're able to work together unaffected by our personal relationship."

They looked at each other in disbelief how they talked about this matter.

"It's ridiculous." Thomas growled. "I haven't been able to act normal in your presence for the past year until Tuesday last week and now that we've sorted it out we should be seperated for their fear of us being a couple and thus not able to work together? No!" He snorted. "It's ridiculous!"

Barbara had stopped listening since "the past year".

"One year?" she asked unbelievingly.

"Hm? Or more..." Thomas slightly reddened and looked at their intertwined fingers.

Barbara just smiled. Thomas nearly never blushed and it warmed her heart. On one hand she was afraid of all that, on the other hand so many formerly spread pieces fell easily into line.

"How long did you know... feel that way?" he asked.

"Ah..." she made a wiping gesture. Then she blushed and looked out of the window. She couldn't tell him that she fell for him many years ago. She couldn't admit that she had a crush on him since right after their first case. And certainly not that she even was jealous of Helen.

"That long?"

Barbara just nodded.

"Was I that blind?"

Barbara shrugged. "I'm good at hiding." She still wasn't able to look in his eyes and played with his signet ring.

Thomas added one and one. Some flashes of memory crossed his mind and he came to the conclusion that Barbara must already have had a crush on him – or more – when Helen still was alive though he would never dare to broach that topic. Sure, Barbara had always been around him. She had supported him when Helen was away and also when she came back and even more when Helen died. Barbara had indulged his every whim, when not even Simon endured him or his mother's nerves with him were raw. Thomas was overpowered by a sudden feeling of deep love for that spiky little red-haired woman across the table.

"I love you!" he breathed with tear-dimmed eyes.

And after some moments deeply looking at each other he called the waitress.

"The bill please!"

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