Disclaimer I do not own Spooks. Kudos and BBC Televison own all. No copyright innfringement is intended nor should be inferred. This story takes place after my old fic, Melting the Ice. Reading that may help understand this but it isn't necessary. And just so you know I did not like George one bit!

Scars.

Ros stared out of the living room window wondering just how she had come to be where she was. A hotel explosion should have killed her, at least a dozen other people had died in the inferno. But she was alive. She had spent three weeks in Intensive Care only to wake up to find Lucas had gone half way around the world and brought home three errant spooks and a four year old. She couldn't help but smile when she thought of little Emma. Myers, you are going soft. She's a good kid though. How on earth did I end up like this? One minute I'm recovering in Malcolm's spare room the next I'm in bed with Lucas? How? What parallel universe have I slipped into? She shook her head as she felt two warm arms wrap around her.

"Hey."

"Why is this happening?"

"Ros." Lucas sighed as he rested his head on her shoulder. "I."

"I know why, but why is it happening to me? I don't get the hearts and flowers crap."

"Lovers leave, friends annoy." Lucas mumbled into her skin as she rolled her eyes.

"Exactly. How can you even look at me? I know Andrew blames me for his scars and I certainly have enough of my own."

"Don't we all? Andrew is an idiot. He may be the Home Secretary at the moment but he is a pompous, self absorbed pig headed idiot. If he doesn't realise you are the reason he is still alive then."

"He thinks I should have acted sooner." Ros narrowed her eyes as she thought of the blonde haired politician. "And he is right."

"No." Lucas turned her to face him as one hand rested on her scared shoulder, the skin still puckered and raw from being pinned under burning masonary and a newly healed skin graft.

"Lucas, I told you before. As Section Chief the responsibility lays with me. Only Harry has more on his shoulders than I do. The lives of my team are in my hands. I make the wrong call and people get killed. Andrew Lawrence is right. I was too slow. It wont happen again." She stared at his heavily tattooed chest as he stepped closer to her.

"It was Nightingale and that traitor in the CIA. My stupidity for being taken in by Sarah."

"Don't mention Nancy Drew." Ros narrowed her eyes as one hand began to trace the Russian lettering on his chest. He closed his eyes as her fingers traced the Russian word for hope.

"How can you?" Ros stopped as his hand covered hers. "With me, after her?"

"Ros." Lucas knew there was no way she would ever let her vulnerable side be shown anywhere but in this room with him. Despite everything she was still the boss, still in control and Harry's second in command. There was no way the mask would slip where others could see. "I could say the same to you. How can you be with me after everything? After Adam? I heard rumours before you ask."

"Adam." Ros smiled slightly. "Is a good man. He was never in love with me. Whatever the Hell that is. We were on the rebound. His wife had been murdered."

"Who were you on the rebound from?" Lucas touched her hair as she stepped nearer to him. The space between them almost nonexistant.

"Life." Ros shrugged her shoulders as his fingers traced her scars. She closed her eyes as one finger trailed down her arm as his lips found hers. For a moment she forgot all about the scars across her arm and back and concentrated on the way her skin burned under Lucas' touch.

"Now?" Lucas asked as he peppered her skin with featherlight kisses.

"No." She ran her fingers through his hair as he kissed her. "Not on the rebound now."

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Ruth stared into the darkness as she tried to process everything that had happened in the last few months. The warmth of the duvet and the comfortable bed made it almost impossible to concentrate but she knew there was no way she would get any more sleep if she didn't get her thoughts in order. What is wrong with me? I lied to George about who I am, I told him there was someone back home that I had lost but I never told him who or why. Not until the day in the safehouse before we were taken. Why? Why didn't I tell him? The Official Secrets Act? Saying I loved Harry and then abandoned him made it more real. Is that why? I had never told Harry I love him so I couldn't say it to anyone else. Oh God. I am a terrible person. George was right. I am a spiteful, ugly witch. Robert was right all those years ago, everything that happens to me is my fault. What would I have done if Mani had shot Harry in front of me? What if he had shot George, then Nico and then Harry? I'd have died. If he had shot that innocent child and then Harry he wouldn't have had to worry about killing me; I know I'd have died on the spot. She screwed her eyes shut as she remembered the way Harry had looked at her when she had sworn at him. If you thought anything of me. If? How could I throw that back at him. Oh God, George was right. Robert was right. I should have just stayed dead. Why the Hell did I run back here? Why didn't I just let Mani's men kill me then? Saved all the heartache. Harry would never have known, he had already grieved for me when we faked my death.

"Ruth." She wiped a hand over her eyes as she heard her name.

"Ssh. Go back to sleep, you have a JIC meeting at 7 am."

"Urgh, do not remind me." Harry wrapped an arm around her bare waist as she closed her eyes. "Penny for them."

"I'm fine."

"No, you are not." Harry kissed her shoulderblade as she sighed. "I can hear you thinking from here. Please Ruth, just talk to me." She turned and faced him as the duvet slipped down to reveal Harry's bare chest.

"So much has happened."

"I know." Harry pushed her hair away from her face as she began tracing circles on his chest. "Since I got home. George was right."

"Excuse me?" Harry covered her hand with his own.

"I am a spiteful lying bitch."

"Ruth." Harry's voice fell dangerously low. He had never heard anyone speak to Ruth that way and was determined he never would. "Why would he say that? To you of all people?"

"He was angry. But he was right. Everyone I care about gets hurt. You." She looked at the scar left by Tom's bullet. "Jo and Danny get killed. Ros and I just about get back on an even keel. What happened was not her fault. She was manipulated by Mace as much as I was. Then she gets blown up. I thought you were dead. I really thought." She closed her eyes as Harry hugged her. It was then he noticed the small silver scar on her right hip.

"Ruth?"

"That's nothing."

"Ruth. You have seen all my scars, physical and mental. You don't have to hide anything for me. And for the record George was not right. How he could say those things to a woman he suposedly loved." Harry closed his eyes in anger as Ruth swallowed hard.

"Just words."

"Ruth, you of all people know the power of words." He kissed her hand as she rested her head on his chest.

"George had a temper."

"He hit you." Harry deliberately kept his voice calm, knowing he would have killed the man if he was not already dead.

"He pushed me." Ruth sighed "And I fell into the table. That's all." She smiled slightly. "Anyway, just because I've seen the scars on your chest doesn't mean I know where they came from."

"Tom shot me." Harry held her gaze as he guided her fingers to the marred flesh on his right shoulder. "This one, an idiot with a knife in Northen Ireland. I was trying not to get killed, believe it or not. He had other ideas."

"Oh Harry."

"This one." Harry swallowed as he remembered the person who had inflicted the angry silvery mark. "Is the oldest. I had found out about one of Jane's affairs."

"So the man she was comitting adultery with did this?"

Ruth had never met Harry's first wife and she didn't want to. Harry didn't answer, forcing the memory of Jane's violent temper and a kitchen knife away from his mind, instead he kissed her gently as her hands pulled him closer. He didn't want to think about the past any longer, just the fact that the woman he had loved for the best part of a decade was in his arms, in his bed and currently kissing him senseless. When he broke the kiss both he and Ruth were desperate for oxygen. She smiled slightly as Harry raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Harry asked as she placed a kiss on the scar he had been telling her about before bringing her lips to the centre of his chest, above his heart.

"Ruth?"

"The scar I caused." She whispered before kissing his bare skin once more.

"Ruth."

"I wish I had been braver. I wish I had fought Mace."

"We're together now." He kissed her gently as Ruth sighed into the kiss. Before Ruth realised what had happened she was on her back with Harry kissing her neck as his fingers gently ran over her scarred hip. She closed her eyes as she realised Harry was right, George would never have treated her the way he did had he really been in love with her and the scars on her flesh and in her mind would heal, just like Harry's had. Slowly she brought his lips to hers as he rested one hand on her thigh.

"Yeah." She whispered as he kissed her neck. "That's all that matters."

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A/N Ok now I'm off to hide. *blushes* Please review. Even if you hate it, you now know why I do not write M rated fics very often.