Disclaimer: I do not own 'Spooks'.

Summary: Friend, protégé, hate, lover, father. Ros's thoughts on her team as she walks through the streets of Russia.

Notes: Just a one-shot that I thought I'd write before Season 7 starts.

Thinking of the Past
By: Odainath

Malcolm...

He couldn't love me, though I think he might have if it weren't for my father.

He couldn't quite hold out a branch of friendship; the wounds I'd helped inflict were too deep.

But he could give me simple things, to show he cared. Me, Rosalind Myers, an outsider from MI-6 who'd unwittingly helped murder his best friend. He would silently pass me a water bottle when I came back from an operation, covered in sweat. He'd hand me a fresh towel as I walked to the change room. He'd wordlessly touch my hand when I thought I might break down. We were almost friends, perhaps almost lovers, but Colin's ghost ensured we stayed apart.

"Ros," he said, leaning towards me as I held my head in my hands. "Ros, go home and get some rest."
"I can't," I said, kneading my temples. "Adam and Jo..."
"Can cope without you for twelve hours," he interrupted. "Come on, I'll drive you home."

Malcolm; my almost friend.

Jo...

She tried to emulate me on operations, tried to work in the same cold, methodical way, but her heart was too big.

At least, it was too big. I wonder recent events; Zaf's death and my betrayal have put a noose around Jo's heart and squeezed it tightly. That's what this job does, especially to women. We were forced to push our natural instincts to one side and become killers. And women were often better at it than men. We get more results; the old adage that women were softer works to our advantage in this field of work. I wish now that I had got to know Jo better; that I hadn't pushed her away, but I know more than most that however much one wants to change the past, one can't.

"Ros, what's Aurora?"
"A spy plane, the very latest."
"Why wasn't I told?"
"It wasn't necessary for you to know."

Jo; my almost protégé.

Ben...

He was cocky and arrogant, always second guessing both me and the rest of Section D. His first meeting with me was a disaster. It was the day that I had been 'recruited' by Yalta, and I was tired and didn't look my usual immaculate self. He took one look at me and immediately I could see that he felt himself superior. I didn't bother correcting that assumption as I knew that he would soon realise his mistake. The night of the BBC broadcast was that moment. Adam threw the gun at me and I caught it and held it to the woman's head without a second thought, then I shot the white radical. Afterward, I saw Ben before Adam and he looked sheepish and wouldn't look me in the eye.

"What?"
"You shot him. Just like that."
"Your point is what, exactly?"

Ben; my new hate.

Adam...

He needed me; I didn't need him.

At least, not at first.

He came to my doorstep one evening, already slightly drunk and I let him inside. I cooked dinner; for I knew he was useless in the kitchen. We finished and as I got up to clear everything away, he stopped me. I remember how he looked at me and before I knew it he was kissing me and I was kissing back. That night I found someone who didn't care that I killed people for a living, for he did the same. He didn't care that I thought nothing of luring men to bed to steal their secrets; he had seduced Anna for the same reason. We fitted.

"We know too much about each other."
"I know."
"It's dangerous..."

Adam; my lover.

Harry...

He didn't recruit me, Adam did.

He wasn't sure about me, not for a few months; then came the operation with the Israelis and I pulled Adam out.

I proved myself to him.

He slowly let me into his team, into his confidence and my respect for him grew. He took me under his wing and away from everyone else's eyes, he coached me. I was already a good officer but under his tutelage, I became brilliant. He took the place of my father who had betrayed everyone, including me.

"Harry!"
"Ros, look at me! Look at me! You are an outstanding officer, you are my outstanding officer! Don't be afraid!"

Harry; my father.

Now, as I follow my target, a British agent who has been telling secrets to the Russians, my thoughts continue to float back to Section D. I'd been happy there, something that could not be said for much of my life. At home, I'd been forced to be the 'perfect child', my parents demanding that I be the best at everything; whether that was at school or socially. At school I had been bullied. I give a small smile, I doubt that many people would ever think that it had been me who'd pushed around the playground, blows raining on my body; that was until I snapped and left the School Captain with a broken nose and shattered cheekbone. No one touched me after that.

Then Adam had recruited me to his team and I found my niche.

I shake myself back to the present as I reach into my coat and curl my fingers around my gun. None of Section D except Harry knows I'm here, all except Adam thinks I'm dead. My target is in front of me, blithely unaware that I am following him.

Harry didn't not call me his outstanding officer for nothing.

My thoughts travel again to my team.

Malcolm; my almost friend.

Jo; my almost protégé.

Ben; my new hate.

Adam; my lover.

Harry; my father.

I can feel tears threatening to surface and shake my head sharply. I have no time for reminiscing, not now at least. My target turns into an alley and I increase my pace. He has realised he is being followed and turns a gun on me as I round the corner. I don't feel a thing as I spin to the side, dodging the bullet.

I straighten as I point my gun towards him and pull the trigger, knowing that I will kill him. My mind wanders as the bullet passes through his forehead and blood spurts everywhere, nearly hitting my boots.

Get me back to Section D.

Author's notes: Hope you liked! Please review,

Odainath.