Author's note: all usual disclaimers apply. After my last, rather serious story, this is a piece of pure fluff. It was inspired by a current Australian TV ad for Toyota which has a wading pool full of little Labradors.

"Wodehouse! Wodehouse, don't go under there. Come here. Right now!"

Tommy looked up. "Are you planning on arresting him?"

"I'll arrest you in a minute. Wodehouse went under the bush and won't come out."

"He'll come in a minute. Have you seen Chesterton?"

"Isn't he with Dickens?"

"No. Ow! Don't do that little one. You'll trip me up." Tommy bent down and picked up a young Labradoodle. "Here, hold Bronte. I'll get Wodehouse and then round them all up."

Tommy handed Barbara the squirming bundle of brown fluff. He smiled as she cuddled the puppy close and rubbed it behind its ear. Barbara suddenly stopped. "This isn't Bronte."

"Yes, it is."

"No."

"How can you tell?"

"Because this one has a little... thingee."

"Thingee?" Tommy laughed. He took the pup back and lifted it up. A quick check confirmed it was indeed a male. "Must be Kipling. Hard to tell them apart in this light."

"Maybe we should take them back inside."

"Yes. I've changed the newspaper in their playpen."

Barbara looked around the courtyard. "One, two, three, four, five six, seven, eight... we're missing three. You don't think they escaped?"

"Impossible, this yard has eight-foot brick fences. Quite sufficient to hold a dozen puppies. Let's capture the ones we can then find the others."

Tommy gathered three clawing, licking, wriggling pups and managed to get them through the French doors that led into his conservatory. A large wooden child's playpen was set up in the corner. He lowered the pups gently over the rail then patted them all as they jumped up excitedly, grabbing his sleeve with their little teeth. "Much as I want to stay and play, I have to help Auntie Barbara." He squeezed the squeaky toy shaped like a newspaper and threw it across the pen. As the dogs raced after it, he made his way back outside. He paused to watch the comedy unfolding.

Barbara was down on hands and knees with her head under one of his daphnes calling to Wodehouse. She was gradually getting further into the foliage. Her hair was caught by the branches, and her backside was waggling rather like Wodehouse's who was standing behind her with his head cocked to one side. The little dog was the pluckiest of the litter despite being by far the smallest. He had taken to Barbara from the moment she had arrived at the house an hour ago with welcome supplies of pizza and cold beer.

"Barbara."

"Not now," she said reaching further into the bush, "I've almost got him."

"I don't think so. Look behind you."

Her head re-emerged. Bits of stick were woven into her hair which had lost any semblance of style. Dirt streaked one cheek, and the knees of her jeans were wet. Tommy was struck by the affect she had on him. His thoughts about his sergeant and best friend had been far less professional lately, but tonight they were decidedly amorous. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He would have to face it sometime, but now he needed to find the missing pups.

"Why you..." Barbara made a lunge for Wodehouse, who gave two sharp, playful barks then scampered off under an azalea. With the pup evading capture, Barbara tumbled face first onto his lawn.

Tommy rushed over and tried to help her to her feet. She shook him away angrily as he pulled twigs from her hair. "How you ever managed to get them here from Howenstowe is a complete mystery. They would have been running all over the Bristol."

"I had them in three crates. They slept quite peacefully most of the way."

She pointed over his shoulder. "There he is. Look at him. Cheeky little sod."

Tommy could not hide his amusement. His grin was beginning to hurt his cheeks. "You distract him, and I'll get him from behind."

"Okay." Barbara moved two steps closer then bent down and clicked her fingers. "Come here, Wodehouse."

Tommy shuffled slowly sideways. The dog's head was protruding from the bush, but he had his body tucked behind a large branch making it hard for Tommy to reach him. This pup was smart, perhaps too smart.

"Right, I've had enough," Barbara announced. Tommy looked across. She winked at him before turning and marching towards the door.

Like the Pied Piper, several of the puppies fell in step behind her. Wodehouse gave a couple of sharp barks. When Barbara didn't even look back, he climbed over the branch and lolloped onto the lawn bounding after his siblings.

"Gotcha." Tommy scooped him up before he could run off in another direction. "Auntie Barbara's smarter than you little man."

"Smarter than you too," Barbara said as she led her pack to the playpen.

"I agree." Tommy ruffled Wodehouse's head and placed him firmly on the ground. "Now you stay put."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do. And you have a special way with animals and children." He leant over and caught a cream pup who had lost interest and was heading back towards the lawn. "Wait there, Chaucer. This way, please." He handed the pup to Barbara, and it immediately began to lick her hands. "See."

Barbara mumbled something he could not hear, then looked at the pen. "We're still two short."

"I'll go."

He found Christie and Tolkien rolling in the dirt near his roses. "You'll know all about it if you get scratched," he said as he lifted them up. "Now, back inside please."

He stopped at the door. Barbara was in the pen playing with the pups. Little wiggly bundles of cream, chocolate and black climbed all over her, nipping and licking, and wagging their tags. She looked happy, and when she looked up at him, her eyes were soft and without that last defence that was still usually there. Tommy grabbed the handful of collars then stepped into the pen and sat beside her.

"You found them."

"Rolling in the grass near the roses. These will keep them amused," he said holding up the collars." "They need to get used to them before tomorrow."

Barbara lifted up a blue one. "Are they colour coded?"

"No, but I had their names engraved on the plate. "Whose collar is that one?"

"Doyle. Who was Doyle?"

Tommy looked at her. "I expected you to know that one. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle."

"Ah, I always thought it was hyphenated, Conan-Doyle. Why are they all named after writers anyway?"

Tommy frowned. "I don't know. I just picked a theme. The litter had so many boys, it just seemed... natural."

"Which one's Doyle?"

"Cream. That's him there, the big one."

Barbara grabbed the pup as he ran past in pursuit of his sister. Tommy quickly laced the collar around his neck, tight enough so that he could not get caught in it, but leaving enough room to breathe. The pup began to run in circles trying to remove the strange object. His siblings sat and watched.

Soon all of the dogs were running in circles or trying to help each other by pulling on the collars. Barbara and Tommy watched them carefully until they forgot and began to play normally again.

"They're going to miss each other," he said as he tickled Orwell on his tummy.

"Do they split them up? I thought that they'd be trained together." Tommy smiled at her reaction. Underneath her gruffness, a sentimentalist was lurking.

"They send them to separate homes to be socialised until they are about a year old, then they go to the centre for training. Most of them will be assistance dogs for people, but some will be companion dogs in nursing homes."

"I hope they're not lonely."

Tommy smiled at her. "No. They'll be looked after, and loved. Although I don't think Wodehouse will make the cut tomorrow; he's too small."

Barbara picked the mischievous runt up. He squirmed as he tried to lick her face and she fell backwards, laughing, and rolling the dog's oversized skin between her hands making him wag his tail so hard it created a breeze. "How could anyone not want you? What happens if they don't take him?"

Tommy smiled grimly and drew his finger across his throat.

"Thomas Lynley!"

He grinned at her then lay beside her and tickled Wodehouse behind his ear. The pup leant into it and whimpered his approval. "I'll keep him. He can go back to Howenstowe."

"Couldn't he stay with you here so that I can visit him?"

Tommy paused and looked at her. He was about to offer her a key and say she could come over anytime when Wodehouse made his dash for freedom. The pup ran up over Tommy's shoulder and leapt on the railing of the pen. Dangling with his back legs paddling furiously as he tried to get a purchase, the puppy began to yelp.

"Back you come." Tommy leant over and grabbed the bundle of energy by the back of his neck and gently lifted him off the rail. It was only when he went to roll back that he became conscious of Barbara's warm, soft body pressed underneath him. Tommy put the pup on the ground but did not roll away. "Sorry."

"Are you?"

He shook his head. "Not in the least." He then cradled Barbara's face with his hand. "May I?"

"What?"

"Do this?" Tommy bent down and kissed her.

Barbara's lips responded to him eagerly until Wodehouse began to scratch at them and bark. "I think he's jealous, Tommy."

"Tommy?" He kissed her again. "He has to learn to live with it because I intend to do this a lot."

"Oh, do you indeed?"

"Yes. Any objections?"

Barbara slid her arms around his neck. "None whatsoever." She kissed him hard. After a few minutes, all the puppies began to claw at them. "I think we need to find somewhere a little more private."

"I know just the place." Tommy stood and helped Barbara out of the pen. Wodehouse looked up at them and barked, wagging his tail so hard it was a blur. "I'll keep him, but I think you might need to move in to help look after him."

"Only for Wodehouse."

"Of course." Tommy kissed her again gradually shuffling backwards towards his stairs.