Set in 'Death & Dreams' and beyond


In Knots
by elfin

---

**the following afternoon**


Joyce found her daughter moping in the kitchen, hands wrapped around a cold cup of tea, staring out of the window at the rain streaking down the glass.

"Cully?  What's wrong, Love?"

She turned, big brown eyes troubled.  "Dad.  He's mad at me."

Joyce sighed, crossing to stand next to her daughter.  "He's not mad at you.  He's just...."

"He's mad!  All we did was kiss!"

"Yes."  Joyce frowned, uncertain how to tell Cully why her father had been acting like a spoilt child since she and Gavin had found the body hanging from the assault course at the asylum.

"I'm twenty four, Mum!"

"Cully... it's not you...."

"He's mad at Gavin too but it was me who kissed him."

"He's angry because neither of you should have been there.  You were both trespassing on private property."

Cully's eyes widened.  "And how often has he broken into people's houses?  Or had Gavin go snooping around?"

She had a point and Joyce knew it.  She also knew that had Gavin been in the grounds because of he suspected something was wrong, Tom's reaction would have been quite different.  But then, it would have been quite different if Gavin had been alone in the grounds too.

"Cully... he's not angry."

"Mum!  He's on the warpath!"

"He's not angry!"  She softened her voice.  "He's jealous."

She opened her mouth but didn't speak.  She stared at her mum as the words sank in.  "Jealous?  Of what...?  Of who?"  Joyce imagined she could see the mental cogs turning.  "He doesn't own Gavin!  The man's his sergeant not his personal servant!"

"He doesn't think he owns Gavin, Love."  She pursed her lips, hoping she wouldn't have to spell it out.

But Cully wasn't seeing it.  "Sometimes he acts like it," she muttered, then looked up, her chin set.  "Then what?"

Joyce sighed.  "He... fancies him, I suppose."  She winced at the word.  "I knew about your father's preferences before we married.  There hasn't been anyone in twenty-five years but I knew the moment his feelings for Gavin changed."

Cully was staring at her, eyes wide, mouth set in horror.  "But Mum...."

"Don't worry," Joyce reassured with a smile and a squeeze of her daughter's arm.  "He'd never do anything about it.  And even if he did, he won't leave us."  She saw the disbelief on her daughter's face and wished Cully had never fallen for Gavin.  "Believe me, this has been out in the open between us for a while now.  We've talked about it at great lengths."  She stressed the last point.

Joyce decided coffee was in order and set about making two mugs.  They sat down at the round kitchen table and for a while neither woman spoke, both lost in thought.

Finally, Cully put down her mug and crossed her arms on the table, leaning forward.  "It's just... I think the feeling could be mutual."

"Really?"

"The other day, Gavin was asking me about Dr Moore and her relationship with Dad.  I think... I think he was jealous."

~

**the previous night**


Relieved to be out of the way of a boss on the rampage, Gavin sat silently in the passenger seat of Cully's 2CV.

"I've never seen him so angry," he murmured, staring out of the small window.

"Don't worry," Cully reassured, reaching over to pat his knee.  "He never keeps it up for long."

Gavin glanced at her.  "Not with you, maybe.  You're his daughter.  I'm the one that's going to be sorting through rubbish bins and doing door to doors for the next three years."  But he managed a little smile.  "It was worth it."

She grinned at him, pulling the car to a stop at the T-junction.  "Which way?"

As they arrived outside his small terrace house he invited her in for a coffee and she accepted.  The idea that it would be anything more had been effectively wiped out by the sheer force of her father's fury when he'd turned up at the crime scene in the grounds of the asylum.

Gavin let them in, flicked on a couple of lamps and went through into the kitchen to fill the kettle.

Cully pottered around the lounge, as nosy as her Dad always was, picking up framed photographs of what looked to be a large family.  It was a couple of minutes before he caught her.

"Definitely a copper's daughter," he joked, handing her a mug.  She smiled at him guiltily and made herself comfortable in one corner of the sofa, watching him as he dropped his jacket onto the stairs and sat down opposite her.  He looked stunning in black shirt and black trousers and she wondered if her Dad would kill her if she didn't go home tonight.

"I'm in serious trouble, aren't I?" Gavin murmured, almost to himself, as he blew over the surface of his coffee.

Cully shook her head.  "I doubt it.  He likes you, a lot."

Gavin smiled an odd little smile.  "Really?"

"Really."

"He's a good bloke."  His words were genuine but there was something underlying his tone that she picked up on but couldn't place.

"You've really never seen him angry?"

"At suspects, yes.  People he thinks are wasting his time.  It's like... standing in the centre of a quiet storm.  Much more intimidating than shouting."

Cully nodded.  "He's very passionate about his job."

"I've always wondered what it would be like to have that... passion directed at me."

It was a strange choice of words, Cully decided later.  He might have been talking about her father's anger.  Or he might not.

And only after her talk with her mum did it make any sense.

~

**six months later**


Rain beat incessantly on the car's windscreen, the wipers failing to keep the glass clear.  Visibility was atrocious anyway, but each time a car came along in the opposite direction the headlights blurred and lensed.

Gavin drove as fast as he dared, slowing down in advance of every corner.  In this weather the roads he knew so well had become alien to him.

His heart was thudding in his chest so hard he could hear and feel its panicked rhythm.  Adrenaline was keeping him from thinking ahead to what he might find when he reached his destination.

Finally he could see the dark silhouette of the house against the night sky.  He swung the Rover into the driveway, scattering gravel, sliding to a stop close to the wide-open front door.

Only experience made him kill the engine and snatch the keys from the ignition.  He left the car door open and ran up to the front of the house.

"Sir?"  Peering into the gloom, he forced himself to wait until his eyes accustomed themselves to the blackness.  "Sir?"

The anonymous phone call had said that Barnaby was here but if Troy brought in the cavalry his chief would wind up dead.  It wasn't a risk Gavin had been willing to take.  He'd turned up completely alone.

When he could make out the shape of the hall - three open doors leading off a main corridor, one closed door at the end - he stepped inside, checking each room as he went.  The place was a wreck, apparently not occupied and he had to wonder what the boss had been doing out here in the first place.

The three rooms were empty.  Cautiously, Gavin turned the rusted knob of the final door and pushed it open, wincing at the loud, dramatic creak.

He barely felt the blow that struck him or the floor as he collapsed.


He awoke to gentle fingers in his hair and opened his eyes to a bright light and his chief regarding him with a mix of concern and frustration.

"You're an idiot," Tom told him affectionately, still keeping his hand on Gavin's head, stroking his hair gently, keeping him still until the ambulance arrived.

"Sir..." Gavin tried to sit up.

"Ssh.  I think you should stay where you are, just in case.  Ambulance is on its way."

He realised he could hear other people moving around, presumably upstairs and in the other rooms.

"What happened?"

"Remember telling me you'd seen someone coming out of Partridge's house the night he was attacked?  And I didn't believe you?  You did see someone - you saw Partridge's brother and he saw you.  I had a call from the hospital saying Partridge wanted to speak to me, he told me who'd attacked him.  When I got back to the station and they told me you'd gone haring out I decided to check this place - it belongs to Ian Partridge."

"You... were never here?"

"No, Gavin.  And even if I had been that's no reason to risk your life."

"It is."

Tom smiled to himself, keeping up the comforting touch in his sergeant's hair until the medics arrived and he was whisked off to hospital.

~~~

**one year later**


Gavin stared at the slip of paper in his hands.

"Inspector Troy."  He looked up, unable to contain his joy, basking in the pride in Tom's beaming smile.  "I can't believe it."

"Why not?  You deserve it."

Re-reading the simple lines Gavin felt a complete sense of achievement.  He'd never believed he'd had it in him to be more than a bag carrier, not until Tom had taken him on and taught him all he knew.

"It's thanks to you, you know," he stated.

"Rubbish."  But Tom shrugged his shoulders, embarrassed.

"So... what now?"

"Now?  Now you decide what you want to do.  You visit FHQ and decide which one of the many offers you want to take up."  Tom picked up the A4 sheet he'd been scribbling phone messages on all morning.  "Chief Inspector Graham in Newcastle, Chief Inspector Marks in Middlesborough, Superintendent Dalziel in Wetherby... the list is endless, Troy."  He caught the expression of bewilderment on the other man's face.  "What?"

"You... you don't want me anymore?"

Tom was stunned.  Pushing himself away from his desk he crossed the office.  "I'd imagined you took the exams to get out of Midsomer."

"No!  I took the exams... because you believed in me."

"Oh."  Tom brightened again.  "So what do you want to do?"

"I want to take you for a drink, Sir."

~

They sat in the beer garden of The Queen's Head, Tom sipping lemonade, Troy with a pint of bitter in his hand.

"They won't force me to move, will they, Sir?"  The idea was putting a dampening Troy's mood when all he really wanted to do was celebrate.

"No.  If you don't want to go I won't let 'em force you out."

Better.  Much better.  "Thank you, Sir."

"Don't worry about it.  And if you're staying on, you can drop the 'Sir', Gavin.  You'll be running your own investigations from now on."

"Really?"  He wasn't sure if the idea excited or scared him.

"Certainly.  No more worrying what awkward time I'm going to phone and drag you out of bed.  You'll have the duty officer doing that instead."

Gavin studied his beer.  He hadn't realised his promotion would mean the end to so much.  "So... we won't be working together?"

Tom reached across, wrapped strong fingers around Gavin's wrist and squeezed gently, reassuringly.  "You're more than capable.  You'll be fine.  And I'll be around to offer advice and wisdom.  They'll probably give me another poor sergeant to rouse at all hours."  The pang of jealousy put Gavin off his beer.  He pushed it away.  "Hey....  What's wrong?  We're supposed to be celebrating!  More money, more respect, more responsibility.  New car...."

"I... I enjoy working with you."

Taken by surprise, Tom smiled gently.  "The feeling's mutual."

"I won't see you...."

"After six years I'd have thought you'd be sick of the sight of me."  But judging by Gavin's miserable expression, he wasn't in a joking mood.  "What's wrong, really?"

Gavin took a deep breath and released it.  He looked at Tom's hand still lightly clasping his wrist and deliberately he covered the warm fingers with his own, raising his head to meet Tom's gaze. 

Tom's eyes slowly widened as the penny dropped.  And then he smiled and nodded.  Turning his hand over, he wrapped his fingers around Gavin's.

"Your place or mine?"

Relief flooded his mind as arousal flooded his body.  "Mine, Sir - Tom.  I'm not sure your wife would approve."

Tom shrugged slightly as they rose, leaving a half-finished lemonade and an untouched pint on the table. 

"Oh, I don't know about that...."


fin
elfin