Chapter One: The Party

"To Detective Inspector Havers!"

Winston Nkata's toast echoed through the packed pub. The crowd of constables, sergeants and DIs chorused,

"To Havers!", and as glasses and bottles clinked, an informal cheer arose. At the center of it all, newly minted DI Barbara Havers blushed hotly. She hadn't wanted a celebration at all. When she'd announced her intention to let her promotion go unmarked, Nkata and all the others had agreed readily…and then lured her to the Penny Pig a week later. Barbara sighed. She should have known. She was sure that a certain DCI Lynley was behind the surprise party, not that he'd ever admit to it.

The crowd pressed in, congratulating and back-slapping. An enthusiastic (and tipsy) Nkata even hugged her, lifting her clear off her feet and whirling her in a wide circle.

"Winnie! Put me down!"

But she was laughing as she said it, and Nkata grinned back.

"Always knew the Met was crazy, but this clinches it." He shook his head in mock sorrow. "Sad, who they're lettin' in these days." Barbara made a grab for him and he dodged easily. "Ooh—she's violent, too."

"Yeah, and proud of it."

Nkata shook his head. More quietly he said,

"You deserve it, Barb; don't let them tell you any different."

He gave her over to other well-wishers then, and for one of the first times in her life, Barbara let herself simply accept their praise. She had come a long way, she though, from the bitter Constable she had once been. Then she would probably have run out of the pub. But now, as much as she protested, Barbra admitted that it was nice to be recognized. To be accepted. The change was, she knew, mostly due to Thomas Lynley. Detective Chief Inspector, belted earl and her partner for the last seven years.

He'd believed in her when no one else had, and shown her that compassion was not always a weakness to be spurned. He'd pushed and tugged her out of her comfortable shell until, before she knew it, she was standing on her own. He'd been there when she needed a friend, a shoulder to cry on or a kick in the arse. And over the years, she had found herself returning the favor.

Barbara smiled a little. Passionate, stubborn, occasionally rash and always dedicated, Lynely driven her half mad. He was by far the best partner she had ever worked with…and the best man she had ever known.

Unexpectedly, the thought depressed her. While her promotion had been dearly wished for, Barbara knew that it also marked the end of their partnership. She was a DI now, with her own team of sergeants and constables. She would head investigations and report to her Superintendant or the Assistant Commissioner. She would probably see Lynley once or twice a week, if she was lucky.

Barbara shook her head, impatient with herself. She was more than ready for a new challenge. She had proved herself as Lynley's partner, and this was her just reward, something she had struggled toward for over half her life. So why did she feel so miserable?

Belatedly she realized that the crowd had thinned. Nkata's toast had been the last, and it was late; well after midnight. People were heading home, most stopping to give her a last quick congratulations. She lingered by the bar until the last of them trickled out, then moved to leave herself.

"Well."

His voice startled her and she jumped involuntarily. Lynley was beside her, leaning against the bar with his hands in his coat pockets. He'd been the first to toast her, but afterwards he had hung back, abandoning her to the crowd. She had assumed that he had already gone. Barbara cocked her head at him.

"Thanks for the party."

A small smile played at the corner of his mouth.

"I don't know what you mean, Havers."

She rolled her eyes.

"Sure, sir. Whatever you say."

There was a moment of companionable silence. Suddenly he said,

"I haven't told you; I'm to be promoted also."

She gaped at him, momentarily nonplussed.

"To Superintendent? "

Lynley shrugged.

"The interim Superintendent's not working out well. They asked me before, but…I wasn't ready."

She heard what he didn't say. Lynley had been Acting Super when his wife Helen was murdered. He had quit, disappeared for months to walk the Cornwall Coast Path, and Havers had thought at first that that he was off the force for good. When he'd finally come back, gaunt and hollow-eyed, he'd resumed his old rank of DCI. No one suggested that he take the Superintendant post; he would certainly refuse, and emotionally he was completely unfit for the job.

As the years went on, Barbara had watched Lynley slowly put himself back together. He'd healed, as much as one could from such a thing. She even thought that he had eventually found an uneasy peace with his wife's death. Recently she had heard rumors that Lynley was again being considered for the top job, but hadn't paid them any attention. She winced. God, she was oblivious, wasn't she? Barbara turned to look at Lynley full-on.

"You pushed for my promotion, didn't you? Because you were leaving." She watched him carefully. She wanted this job, but not because of Lynley's rank, or his influence at the Met. If he had pulled strings…

Seemingly reading her mind, Lynley shook his head. "You got this on your own merit, Barbara. I told the commissioner that you were ready for it and he agreed."

All at once, her throat felt uncomfortably tight. Lynley usually treated her as an equal, but he rarely articulated his respect. To hear him say it—

She swallowed hard.
"That…that means a lot, sir."

The moment stretched, and Lynley's brown eyes gazed at her with uncomfortable intensity. He looked wistful, and a little sad. Belatedly she realized that she hadn't even wished him congratulations. She raised her half-empty bottle with a smile.

"To Superintendent Lynley, then, eh?

He clinked his bottle with hers and they drank. It was nice, she thought, being alone in the quiet bar with him. With the customarily frenetic pace of cases, they rarely got the chance to simply enjoy each other's company. Irrationally Barbara found herself wanting to lean into him, just a little…

She stopped herself, horrified. Obviously she had drunk more than she had thought. She shook her head a little to clear it and said,

"I, ah…it's late. I reckon I better be going, sir."

Lynely glanced at his wrist and look a little surprised.

"So it is. I hadn't noticed." She waited, but he made no move to say goodbye.

"You wouldn't by any chance want to come over for awhile, would you?"

"Come to your place, ya mean?"

Lynley's hand played with his beer bottle, his finger making restless circles on its rim. Barbara looked at him curiously, trying to figure out what was going on.

She knew Lynley's flat as well as her own. Over the past few years they had been assigned bigger cases, and inevitably, longer hours had followed. When on a case, most days had ended at one or the other of their flats, working until they literally fell asleep where they sat. Lynley had developed an intimate hatred of her tiny couch, Barbara thought with a smile. But as far as she could remember, he'd never simply invited her as a friend, without a case to work on.

Whatever his reasons, the offer was tempting. There was nothing waiting for her at home besides a dying houseplant and day-old curry, and she was unwilling to be alone with her thoughts just yet. Besides, after the party, she wouldn't be able to sleep for hours. What could it hurt?

Barbara knew very well the answer to that. She wasn't exactly sure what she felt for Lynley, but she had a sinking suspicion that it went far beyond friendship. And that was unacceptable. Lynely was her direct superior. Not anymore, said the little voice in her head. You don't report to him, so the regs don't apply.

She ruthlessly suppressed the thought; that way lay madness. Aside from any question of regulations, she knew that Lynley be appalled by any untoward display of feelings on her part. It would completely ruin their friendship, and that she would not stand.

But if she went home tonight, Barbara knew, he wouldn't ask again. He would settle into the Superintendent's office, and they would send cards at Christmas and drift inevitably apart. That would happen anyway, most likely. But wouldn't it be nice to have one last hurrah, one last night as the indomitable Lynley and Havers before things changed forever?

In the end, the answer was easy.

"I would love to, sir."

Lynley smiled. It was a full-on grin, one she rarely saw, and it made her flush uncomfortably.

"Right, then."

Lynely fetched her coat, and then they were out of the bar and driving to Belgravia.