Misunderstanding
by elfin

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Last scrap of paper dumped in the bin, last pen dropped into the cardboard box.

Troy hesitated, staring at the silver ballpoint in his hand, stroking his thumb over the slim length of it, feeling its comfortable weight.  A birthday gift from the Barnabys three years ago.  He'd used it ever since, always at his desk, never taking it out with him where it might get lost.

He felt suddenly cold and a little sick.

He'd made this decision months back, based on many things.  He didn't want to spend his whole life in Midsomer.  He wanted some vibrancy, some life, something more exciting than cricket matches and five-a-side football.  He wanted to lock up proper criminals who committed crimes for no better reason than they could.  He'd imagined replacing country lanes with dual carriageways, quiet English pubs with night-clubs and bars, Saturday afternoons playing cricket with long hours at Middlesbrough football ground.

He'd imagined it all until the position in Newcastle had come up.  He'd already spoken to Tom about becoming an inspector, idly talking about his ambitions to leave Midsomer for more exciting, northern climates.  He'd been careful to keep it professional; the last thing he'd ever wanted was for his chief to think that this was personal.

Of course, in a way it was.  His attraction to Tom Barnaby had deepened over the years.  From respect to affection to something much more complicated.  He knew he was hurting himself by longing for what he could never have.  A clean break from Midsomer, a new life in a new place, that was the best thing.

He'd taken two days off and driven up to Newcastle for the interview.  A Superintendent had been there from Middlesbrough CID and he'd expressed his interest in relocating.  Being there, meeting a couple of the CID officers on the team, being taken out in the evening for beers and a curry... it had been exciting, enjoyable.  To be with other guys his own age had been refreshing.

But driving back into Midsomer had also been coming home.  The sun on the green in Midsomer Worthy as he'd driven through, the early theatre goers dressed up to the nines going for a pre-show drink in the Thorn & Crown.  Most of all, Tom's smile the following morning when he'd arrived at work.

When he'd been offered the position in Newcastle two days later, he'd turned it down.

He'd thought that would be the end of it, at least for a year or so.  But Tom had recommended him for the Inspector's Exams and desperate to make his chief proud he'd passed them with flying colours. 

After that, everything had moved so fast.  The job offer in Newcastle was back on the table but better than that the Middlesbrough CID Superintendent who'd also been at his interview had offered him a position as a DI, leading a small CID team.  His career suddenly slapping him around the face and Tom apparently now pushing him to leave, he'd accepted.

All the business with the other 'Tom' and the killings in Midsomer Mallow had left him with precious little time to think about what was happening and now, before he'd even really had a chance to realise what he was about to do, he was packing his desk into a cardboard box and his home into crates.  He was leaving Midsomer CID and Tom Barnaby for good.

"I don't want to go."

He spoke to the contents of the box, to the pen in his fingers.  And inadvertently to his chief who had been watching him for the last few minutes.

Tom pushed off the edge of the desk and went to stand beside Troy's, looking down into the box of belongings.

"Then don't."

Troy's head snapped up, wide eyes meeting Tom's as he too raised his sad gaze.

"You want me to go!"

Brow furrowed, he asked, "What makes you think that?"

"This case, these last few weeks...."  Troy floundered.  "You haven't wanted to work with me."

"I've been pushing you to lead your own case.  That's not the same."  Tom reached out slowly, clumsily taking Troy's hand in his fingers, brushing thumb against smooth palm.  "Have you any idea," he murmured, "how I feel about you?"


Tom's heart thudded against his ribs loud enough to wake Midsomer's myriad dead.  Ever since Troy had taken the time off to attend the interview in Newcastle he'd been dreading this day.

He couldn't blame the young man for wanting to leave.  Midsomer was for the middle-aged, the retired, the settled.  Troy deserved more than tea parties and summer fates.  He needed more entertainment than the Causton Playhouse and a pint at The Thorn & Crown.

A part of Tom knew that his sergeant would thrive in Newcastle.  Another part of him was terrified that the city would destroy the Gavin Troy he knew.  And loved.

The anger that had been a part of Troy's soul when Tom had first taken him under his professional wing had mellowed into something gentle and kind.  His prejudices had been shattered, leaving him open-minded and tolerant.

But for the most part they got a better class of criminal in Midsomer.  In Newcastle... Tom had shuddered to think. 

And yet, for a time, his fears had been allayed.  Troy had turned down the job and stayed.  Tom had felt that some more encouragement was needed - not to push Troy out of Midsomer CID but to give him the confidence to leave if he really wanted to.  He owed his loyal sergeant that much at least.  He'd recommended Troy for the exams and of course he'd passed them with ease.

What had happened next had spun out of Tom's control too quickly.  Three job offers - one in Troy's beloved Middlesbrough.  As soon as he'd heard, Tom knew he'd lost the one person who'd come to mean so very much to him.  He'd pulled away, put some professional distance between them even if he hadn't managed any personal distance.  Because that was so very hard to do.  Gavin was a close friend.  Life without him seemed impossible to imagine.

Suddenly six years of companionship and friendship all came down to this one moment.

Gavin's confession replaying in his head.  Gavin's hand in his.  Blue eyes wide, staring - unbelieving - at him.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

He tried to let go but Gavin turned his hand and held on.  The usually bright, friendly gaze grew darker, more intense.  "Tell me.  I have to know."

"Troy...."

"Please."

Now or never, Tom knew.  If he pulled away, denied everything, did what he knew was the right thing to do, he'd lose Troy for good.

"You're one of the best things to ever happen to me.  I..." he took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, "...love you so much....  I can't think about looking up and not seeing you sitting here.  The idea of a stranger as my sergeant is only bearable if I imagine you'll be around," he smiled shyly, "breaking my wing mirror in the car park or stealing my suspects for yourself."  He shook his head.  "I don't want to lose you.  I've been dreading you leaving since you went for the interview in Newcastle."

Gavin was still staring at him. 

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said any of that."  But he couldn't let go of the warm hand in his.  And now he couldn't take his eyes from the thumb brushing back and forth over his fingers.  "You need to be somewhere else, you can't be stuck in Midsomer all your life."

Troy looked at him for a long time.  "I think that's my decision, Sir," he murmured.  But the bravery was short-lived.  He looked away, back down into the box, dropping the pen inside.  "It's too late."

"It's not too late."

"I've accepted the job.  You've got another sergeant arriving in a week's time.  Midsomer doesn't need a DI."  A hint of hysteria was creeping into his voice and he swallowed back hard on the rising emotion.

Tom reached for Gavin's other hand, holding that too, tighter now.

"Midsomer needs you.  You know this county better than most, certainly better than some hot-shot sergeant from the Met!  You know the people here and they know you.  But Troy... you told me you wanted to go to Middlesbrough.  I can understand that Midsomer Mallow Sunday morning five-a-side football matches aren't quite the same as Middlesbrough cup finals."

Gavin chuckled.  "That really is a dream, Sir." 

Smiling, Tom told him, "You have to be sure.  I would hate myself if anything I said stopped you from living the life you want to live.  And so would you."

Troy hesitated.  "When I think about leaving, I feel sick."

"Change is never easy.  But you're young, you're...."

"A royal pain in the ass?"

"I was going to say... you're incredible."  He couldn't look at Troy's face, didn't want to see what was there.  "God, listen to me....  I sound like a sappy fifteen year old."

"It's been a very long time since anyone's said they love me."

He did look up then, needed to see the expression that went with the quiet tone and the heart wrenching words.

"You're very easy to love."

Tom took in the face he saw every time he closed his eyes, the smile he went to extremes to see.  And he knew just how much it would hurt to let him go.  But he couldn't make this decision for Gavin.

"Superintendent Mills won't be happy."

Tom shrugged.  'Who gives a shit?' didn't seem like the appropriate response.  Neither did 'screw him'.

"Can I... I mean... really?  Can I stay?"

He couldn't help himself.  Tom stepped around the desk and used his grasp on Gavin's hands to pull him into hug.  Strong arms came around Tom and he closed his eyes; enough for now that he was finding out how good it was to hold him.

"You're welcome to stay, if that's what you want," he assured, ignoring the screaming voice in his mind.

Gavin didn't answer and eventually Tom stepped back, barely resisting the temptation to kiss the smooth throat inches from his lips.

"There are a couple of things I want," Gavin told him then, finding the courage as they stood close to one another, hands finding hands again, holding loosely.  "You're one of them."

Tom held his breath, processing the words.  "I didn't mean...."  As he searched for the right words he watched blue eyes widen in horror and understood just in time, tightening fingers before Gavin could escape.  "No.  Let me make myself perfectly clear.  You are the most... gorgeous man I've ever laid eyes on.  I want to do things with you I haven't done in a very long time.  But your staying in Causton isn't connected with that.  I don't want to lose you as a colleague or a friend.  You're a brilliant detective.  Middlesbrough's gain would be our loss and the truth is I don't want you to leave."

"But if I stayed... could I... could we... be together... sometimes?"

"If for some bizarre reason you wanted an ancient relic like me -" Gavin's smile was dazzling.  "- yes, we could.  Perhaps more often than sometimes."

"I would really like that."  This time Gavin used their held hands to guide himself closer.  He licked his lips unconsciously, mouth dry.  This time the closeness wasn't platonic, it wasn't friendly.  It was suddenly too hot in the office.

Tom's eyes raked over Gavin's face, swallowing when he whetted his lips.  For a moment there was nothing else.  They leaned closer, a kiss the inevitable result....

Gavin pulled his head back suddenly and Tom almost but not quite managed to keep the frustration keen from escaping his throat.

Dark eyes shot to the door but it was late, there was no one else about.  Still, if he was to keep his job here this was not a great position to be found in.  "Sorry!" 

"For what?"

"I almost... we almost...."

"We still can."  Tom's voice held a desperate edge.

"Not here."

Gavin was right, Tom knew.  But at that moment he couldn't have cared less if the Chief Constable had been standing in the doorway watching them.  He nodded and stepped back, putting some distance between them.

"Why don't you call your landlord?  I'll get hold of Mills."

Troy grinned.  "Thank you."

Tom turned back to his desk, adjusting his trousers as he went.

Picking up the receiver he dialled the front desk and asked for the number for Middlesbrough CID.  As he listened to the ringing tone he glanced across at Gavin and caught his breath.  How had he ever imagined he could let this man leave?

He wasn't sure what to tell SI Mills, but the phrase 'you don't get to have him' popped to mind and he dismissed it with a smile, one mirrored on Troy's face.

Tom heard Gavin say, "Mrs Cooper, sorry it's so late," just as his own call was answered.

"DCI Craig."

"Hello."  Too cheerful.  "I wanted to speak to Superintendent Mills."

"He's not in tonight, I'm covering for him.  What can I do for you?"

"This is DCI Barnaby, Causton CID, Midsomer."

A pause.  "Inspector Troy's chief; he's joining my team come Monday.  What can I do for you?"

"There's... there's been a change of plan."

"What?" he sounded suspicious, bordering on very unhappy.

"He's won't be joining you.  He's staying down here at my request."  The string of words that followed weren't ones Tom had expected to hear.  "DCI Craig, there's no need...."

"Don't 'there's no need' me!  What do you mean he's not coming?  I've already got him assigned."

"I'm sorry...."

"Fucking great.  Thanks a lot."

The call ended.  Tom stared at the phone for a moment before hanging up.  He looked up, meeting Troy's questioning gaze and for a moment thought of his beloved sergeant - inspector now - in that man's clutches. 

He shuddered, taking a deep breath, desperate to hold Gavin again.  The wait until the other call was finished was long enough.  But Troy had obviously had had a more positive response from his landlord - or lady as it turned out.

"She hasn't rented it out again, I've taken it for another month."

Tom frowned.  "Month?"

Gavin shrugged.  "I thought I could find somewhere more permanent, buy a place."

Their arms went around one another naturally, it seemed.  They fitted together perfectly.

"Is there a clear path from your front door to your bed?  Or is that... taking things too fast?"

Wrenching his eyes from Tom's mouth, Gavin shook his head.  "If there isn't a clear path, we'll make one."

"Story of my life."  Tom's lips touched Gavin's and for the first time, they kissed.


fin
elfin