Gloria was in shock.

Merlin, aka "Martin" as he'd just introduced himself, was sitting on the couch opposite her. A box of tissues sat between them and she grasped a handful of them to wipe her nose.

'I'm afraid I can't give you specific details, but I just thought you should know that Harry died saving the world. And that he cared for you deeply'

'I didn't think he told anyone about me, it's not like we ever went out on the town or anything. Apart from Eggsy, and now you, I've not even met any of his friends,' she said.

'He was required to report any relationships, so we could keep you safe,' explained Merlin.

'Well it worked,' she said, trying not to think of what had happened last week. She had tried to go home after the chaos had stopped, but the piles of bodies and burning cars had frightened her so much she'd run straight back to Harry's and locked the door. Her housemate wasn't answering her calls, and neither was her boss.

'What do I do now?' she whispered.

Merlin left a thick envelope on the table with her name on it and stood.

'It's a whole new world,' he said. 'You can do whatever you want'

She stood and followed him to the front door.

'My number is in the envelope if you need anything,' he said.

'Thank you for everything, I know that whatever it is you do must be in overtime now, so I appreciate you coming to see me,' she said.

'Harry was one of my best friends,' said Martin. 'It's what he would've wanted'

She hugged him, and he patted her back awkwardly.

'Bye'

Gloria sat back down and opened the envelope. Several documents spilled onto the table, and she picked up the slip of paper with her name on it. It was a letter.

Dear Gloria

If you're reading this, it means that I'm dead. Sorry to put it so bluntly, but that's the way it is. By now someone would've come to see you and explained a little about my life, my real life. I'm so sorry I misled you but please know that I only lied to keep you safe. Even now I can't tell you anything, only that before we go out on anything major they make us write one of these morbid letters in case we don't come home.

I just wanted to let you know that even though we weren't together very long, I greatly enjoyed our time and deeply regret that this is how it had to end. I truly wanted to get to know you better.

In a way to make up for time lost, I hope the enclosed can make up for some of it and give you something to remember me by.

Harry

Six months previously...

Harry heard a scream from the alley and sprang into action, racing past the dumpsters. There was another cry, deeper this time, and he came to a stop by a woman standing over a man who was on the ground clutching his balls.

'Is everything alright here?' Harry asked her politely.

She kicked the man again. 'Just taking care of a mugger, thanks though'

The man yelped. 'Now fuck off, asshole!' she shouted at him. He crawled to the end of the alley and stumbled away.

Harry looked at her, impressed. He found out later she had ruptured one of the man's testicles.

'Well I can see my services clearly aren't needed,' he said.

'Yeah, what exactly were you planning on doing? Poke him with your umbrella?' she asked, lighting up a cigarette and sitting on some stairs behind the club.

'Something like that,' he admitted. 'Do you work here?'

'Bar wench extraordinaire at your service,' she said, mock bowing. 'Come in, I'll buy you a drink for your attempted galantness. It's the thought that counts, right?'

He wanted to say no, he was desperately tired and just wanted to go home. But instead he waited until she had finished her cigarette, then followed her inside.

The music had been dreadful, house music or something along those lines, she told him. She never listened to it, her secret was industrial strength ear plugs, and the ability to read lips.

It was a busy night, so he only got to chat to her in snippets when she served down his end of the bar.

'Alright mister, lights'll be on soon. Time to head back to the retirement village,' she said jokingly. He was the last person at the bar, still cradling his whiskey.

'Don't be ridiculous, they wouldn't let me in at this hour,' he said. 'Besides you've made me miss the rice pudding'

She laughed. 'How old are you anyway?'

'I'll be 53 next month,' he replied. 'How old are you?'

'A lady never tells a man her age,' she said coyly. 'But I'm definitely not 53, I'll tell you that'

'That's a pity, I only date women my age,' he said, knocking back his drink.

'My loss, eh?' she laughed. 'Come on, seriously I have to close up'

'Alright, but I really must insist on you walking me home,' he said. 'Honestly I would feel much safer if you did'

'Go wait outside,' she laughed. 'If you're still alive when I'm done, then I'll come and protect you'

Twenty minutes later she found him waiting patiently on the curb out front, an unconscious man lying beside him.

'What happened?' she asked.

'Oh him? He tried to steal my wallet, so I poked him with my umbrella,' he said. She found out later he had fractured the man's skull in four places.

'Alright, where are we going?'

'That way,' he said pointing up the street.

'You know I never caught your name,' she said as they made their way into the posher part of town.

'Harry Hart,' he replied.

'Gloria King'

'Hart & King, we could be a crime fighting duo,' she said.

'Or a law firm…'

…

That had been six months ago.

The documents were the deed to Harry's house and his will, leaving everything to her (except what his employer needed to remove from his residence).

Her first reaction was relief that she wouldn't need to leave yet. But then she was sad again. What was the point of this big house if she didn't have anyone to share it with?

She stayed until the food ran out and the internet and power came back on a week later, finally venturing out into the streets. Smoking piles were all that were left of the dead, there were too many to bury quickly in the middle of the city so bonfires had to do.

She felt uneasy as she passed maybe ten people up the length of Oxford Street on her way home. It was eerie.

Her apartment building was deserted, full of broken doors and smashed furniture. Luckily her apartment was on the top floor and vandals hadn't bothered to loot that far up. The door stood open and she hesitated before she went in. There was a trail of blood leading into the kitchen, and the smell was rank.

Taking a deep breath she walked in carefully, following the trail to it's owner. It was her housemate, Claudia, a meat cleaver lodged in her stomach and her boyfriend Edward lying facedown beside her with a carving knife buried deep into his back. Both had begun to rot. She gagged at the stench and threw up beside them, covering the blood with sick.

Stumbling out of the kitchen she ran into her room and began to throw everything she could into her suitcases. Holding her breath again, she returned to the kitchen and emptied the contents of the pantry into her bags. When she had packed what she needed, she ran out of the apartment and never looked back.

Two weeks previously...

'Who is she?' Merlin asked Harry with a knowing smile.

'She's clean, don't worry,' Harry replied, sealing the envelope and writing her name on it with a flourish.

'I know, I already checked her out. I meant who is she to you?'

'Young,' Harry admitted. 'Smart. Beautiful. Something about her calms me, makes the world feel a little less fucked up'

'I think that's just you getting laid for the first time in years,' said Merlin. Harry laughed.

'Probably, but that I'm afraid is none of your business,' he replied, ignoring that fact that Merlin had probably already heard and seen everything that had passed between them. Kingsman were always under surveillance.

'Anyway I hope you never meet her,' smiled Harry, handing Merlin the envelope.

'I don't ever want to'

'See you when I get back from the States'

….

Now

Merlin took another swig of whiskey, thinking about the last time he'd seen his best friend in the flesh.

He clicked on the screen and brought up the footage from Harry's place the week before he died. He had already watched it several times, but he hit play again.

Out of respect he fast forwarded Harry and Gloria's more intimate moments (which proved to be a lot of the footage), instead watching as they chatted over dinner, watched movies and as Gloria unsuccessfully tried to teach Harry how to play chess. He could definitely see the appeal in the girl. She was young, smart and as beautiful as Harry had said. And she made Harry happy, happier than he'd ever seen him in years.

He switched to the live feed, watching as Gloria sobbed on the couch. She had returned an hour ago after leaving the house for the first time since it happened. He guessed she'd gone home to get some things and found what was left of her housemates.

She had finally gotten into Harry's liquor cabinet, breaking the lock off it in the end. She sculled what she didn't realise was an exceeding rare bottle of 100 year old Jameson, not even tasting it as she threw back shot after shot.

Finally she passed out, sliding face first onto the floor.

Merlin called up the team, now would be the best time to go and remove any traces of the Kingsman from Harry's house.

An hour later he opened the front door, Roxy and Eggsy close behind in casual wear.

He handed them both maps of the house and they went upstairs to get started.

Merlin checked on Gloria, who was snoring softly into the persian rug. He injected her with a tranquilliser, to make sure she didn't wake up, then scooped her up and placed her carefully onto the couch and covered her with a blanket. Clearing away the empty bottle and dirty glass, he placed a bucket on the floor beside the couch, lay another lettered addressed to her on the coffee table, then followed the others upstairs to help out.

She slept for 24 hours straight, using the bucket about two minutes after her eyes flicked open. Wiping her mouth, she slowly made her way to the bathroom and lay under the shower head for almost an hour. Feeling much more human, she got dressed and made some breakfast. As she sat at the dining table, a pang of sadness hit her and she thought about the last night they'd been together.

They had made love right here on this table, her in nothing but stockings and suspenders, he still fully dressed with his face buried between her thighs. It was after all, as Harry had pointed out, the dining room. Then he had joined her on the table and they had nearly broken the damn thing in their passion.

She finished her meal and downed some aspirin, returning to the living room where she finally noticed the letter. Merlin again.

It was formal and typed, merely stating that anything work related had been removed from the house and she was free to do what she liked with the premises. Another one of Merlin's generic business cards fell into her lap, bearing only the initial M and a phone number.

Six months passed, and she managed to get back into a semblance of normality. Everything was pretty much back to the way it had been, the only difference was there were less people on the streets. Even though she didn't need to work, she picked up a job at a bar as a way to keep herself busy.

One night a few weeks later she served a familiar face. Merlin.

'Hello Gloria'

'Hello "Martin",' she replied. 'What can I get you?'

'I'll have a beer thanks'

'What do you want?' she asked, handing him a pint.

'Just checking in,' he shrugged. 'How have you been?'

'Like you don't know,' she said. After the third time she'd gotten almost paralytically drunk she'd noticed that someone had been in the house, looking after her and cleaning up. 'You and your cameras, watching'

'It's for your own protection'

'Look I just want to forget all the horrible stuff that happened! You creeping into Harry's house while I'm drunk isn't cool,' she replied.

'So move,' he said.

'Why, so you can follow me to wherever I go?' she said. 'Besides I couldn't sell Harry's place'

'It's your place now'

'It will never feel mine,' she said.

'I miss him too, Gloria,' he said.

'Not in the same way,' she said. 'Well I hope not anyway'

He chuckled. 'At least you've still got your sense of humour'

'Seriously though, stop creeping in. You want to come over, you call me or knock on the front door like a normal person,' she said.

'Alright,' he agreed.

Two nights later his phone rang.

'I just thought you'd like to know that despite my plan to get exceedingly drunk tonight, I will look after myself so your mothering services aren't required,' slurred Gloria. He flicked on the screen to see she was well on her way to being drunk, a half empty bottle of wine sitting beside her.

'You know it's really depressing to drink alone?' he said.

'You're just realising I'm depressed now? Gees you're not a very good spy, are you?' she giggled. 'Don't worry, this'll be the last time'

'Have you had an epiphany?' he asked.

'Something like that,' she said, fiddling with something under the couch cushions. He couldn't figure out what it was, but he didn't like the sound of her voice.

He raced out the door, keeping her talking as he zipped back to London and into a cab. He didn't bother knocking, and she looked at him in annoyance as she hung up the phone and pulled a pistol out from under the cushion, toying with it.

'Gloria, give me the gun,' he asked. 'You don't want to do this, you wouldn't have called me if you didn't want someone to stop you'

'Maybe I just wanted an audience?' she replied.

'You were right, you know,' she continued. 'I need to get over myself and stop wallowing'

'By moving on with your life, not by ending it,' he said, stepping towards her carefully.

'It is moving on, Merlin,' she said. 'It's just to a whole new world'

He took another step towards her, but she was too fast. The gun fired and Merlin stood covered in blood and scraps of brain as Gloria fell to the floor with a dull thud.

He wished he could freak out, he wished he could react like a normal person and scream and run away.

But instead he calmly wiped his face with his handkerchief, stepped over what was left of her head and helped himself to a glass of whiskey.