Hello! Long time, no posting. Life is busy. Here's a little something to apologise for my absence. There are more chapters to come. Reviews are nice.

SPOILERS: New characters announced by Kudos for series 10 are included in this story. The plot isn't speculative, but it does refer to teaser information in the same press release.

WARNING: The occasional swear word.

SUMMARY: You can kick a spy out into the cold, but that doesn't mean he'll be going all by himself. Or a farcical description of the reasons why "Let's get married today!" doesn't normally happen in Little Britain.

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A Marriage (Not Quite) Made in Britain

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Malcolm stared at the inside of his front door as the bell rang a third time, debating with himself whether to open it. As far as he was concerned, visitor numbers were supposed to decrease when one moved house by performing a midnight flit. But in the last few days he'd had to cope with Sir Harry Pearce in scotch-and-Shakespeare mode, Director General Sir Richard Dolby, in where-the-fuck-is-Harry mode, Alec White in they-owe-me-three-months-wages-the-bastards mode and now, according to his newly installed CCTV relay, Ruth Evershed in something-is-making-my-eyes-really-bulge mode.

It was all most unsettling for Mum. It was also a lot less boring than his first year of retirement. Malcolm donned an expression of polite curiosity and opened his door.

'He's out,' Ruth said immediately. 'Sacked and gone.'

'Are you sure? Have you seen him?'

'No! I bumped into the D.G.'s P.A. in Tesco Express and she told me. She's always had a bit of a crush on Harry and she's really upset.'

'Well I never. That's a bit Moneypenny.'

'So I hacked into the D.G.'s network drive to see what the plan is. Apparently, they're bringing in someone from Defence Intelligence.'

'At least it's not someone from Six.'

'She's called Erin Watts. And she's insisting on bringing somebody with her from their intelligence collection group. A techie to keep us all monitored, by the sound of it. Calum Reed?'

'Calum? Really? But he's excellent. Started off in signals and then moved over to geospatial analysis.'

Ruth's expression was unencouraging enough to make Malcolm stop talking and take three quite rapid steps backwards.

'Tariq will be mortified!' she exclaimed, following him down the hall until she had him backed up against the wall. 'It's all Harry's fault! He's such a-a-a—'

'—a wonderful fellow? A brave man?' Malcolm folded his arms and tried to look superior. 'Do we really want to bitch about the bloke who saved your life and exposed the most dangerous British agent since Kim Philby?'

'Harry didn't expose Lucas, I did!'

'But how easily did he kidnap you after that?'

'That's got nothing to do with it.'

'When it comes to the big fish, it's not good enough to just chase them into the shallows. You've got to land them. You get kidnapped by the bad guys. Harry puts on a pair of leather gloves and deals with them.'

'I was stuck in a van with a computer geek!'

'Tariq will be mortified.'

'If I'd had a gun it would have been different!'

'Really? Rumour has it you needed quite a few shots to finish off a very large Frenchman at a range of about five feet.'

'Oh bugger off, Malcolm!'

'You're in my house. You bugger off.'

Ruth's shoulders hunched and her head dropped. 'God! I'm sorry! I don't know what to do. I said something harsh and it turned out to be completely wrong.'

'You can't hog the self-sacrificing limelight any more, old girl,' Malcolm told her more gently. 'Now that you've both immolated your careers for the sake of each other, can't you call it quits and settle down?'

'I can't even find him! He hasn't been home. He's not at his club. Alec's too sozzled to have a clue. Catherine hasn't seen him. I tried emailing Tom Quinn in Birmingham and there's no sign of him there.'

'If he doesn't want to be found, you'll just have to be patient.'

'But I need to say I'm sorry. And tell him I was wro-o-o-ng!'

She wailed something mostly incomprehensible about 'timing' and 'shit' and lurched in the direction of Malcolm's shoulder. Feminine tears weren't really his forte. He was therefore extremely glad to find Harry sidling into the hallway beside him, only too happy to take over weeping support duties.

Harry inserted himself between Malcolm and Ruth, wrapped her up in comfortable arms and rested his chin on the top of her head. He mouthed a silent 'thank you' in Malcolm's direction and then closed his eyes. The frighteningly stricken look that had tightened his features for the last three days began to recede.

Malcolm tactfully took himself off to check on Mum. He allowed himself a small smile en route.

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There had to be some sort of alchemy involved. A mystic combination of solidity, heat, strength and aroma that had the ability to dry up tears, release tension and induce the beginnings of bliss in less than a minute. Whatever the secret recipe was, it was blindingly apparent to Ruth that if Harry had ever pressed his attentions on her to the point of actual physical contact, he would have been successful.

Of course, then she might have been even more ashamed of herself for continuing to adore him after what happened to George. And of course Harry – being Harry – was fine-tuned enough when it came to guilt and shame to realise that. So he hadn't pressed. He'd kept strictly to the practice of "look but don't touch" and left the ball of comforting caresses in her court. He must really love her ... oh.

'Have you got a hankie?' Ruth enquired damply.

'No. Sorry. Hang on, though.'

Without letting go of her, he manoeuvred them around the corner towards the kitchen and then used his foot to lever open the door of the downstairs loo. One hand shot out, grabbed a roll of toilet tissue and held it up.

She availed herself of a decent wad, wiped her face and blew her nose – all with her left ear still pressed against Harry's chest and her left arm around his waist. 'Thanks.'

'You're very welcome. Could I possibly kiss you now?'

She tilted her head back enough to look up. He possibly could. Did. Very thoroughly indeed. And then he took her upstairs to Malcolm's spare room and made the best love to her she'd ever experienced.

'Sorry it was a bit quick,' Harry mumbled, staring at the ceiling.

Ruth's head, heart and clitoris were shouting, 'Again! Again! Again!' in happy unison. 'It was lovely,' she said fervently, and kissed his chin to show she meant it.

'No need for little blue pills yet, but I'm suddenly very glad they exist.'

'Oh?'

'The more time we have for this, the better.'

'God, yes!'

Harry grinned and rolled over to face her. 'That's a heartening response if ever I heard one.'

Ruth kissed his chin again. And his cheek. And his nose. 'You blew my mind,' she whispered.

Harry kissed her lips. And her lips. And her lips. Then he yawned. 'I haven't been sleeping very well lately.'

'Me neither.'

So they curled up and slept the afternoon away.

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