This is, very belatedly, for Fluffy Spook, from a fellow refugee in Camp Denial. :)

'So this is it, then.'

She looked up. He was hovering by Erin's desk, his face resigned, tie askew. Even in the dim, forgiving light of the Grid he looked exhausted.

'Yes,' she said. Reluctant to prolong the conversation for fear of what she might say, or worse, that she might begin to cry, she ducked her head and resumed rummaging through her drawers for the few personal effects she'd brought with her.

Tentatively he moved towards her. 'I-Im sorry about the lack of a leaving do.'

The faint flicker of a smile. 'I'm sure Calum will come up with something suitably horrendous.'

'Ha! Yes, no doubt. And we will have a whip round…' he rubbed at his head distractedly, 'but...'

'There's no need, Harry, honestly. They've all got more important things to spend their money on. Rosie. Gadgets.' She paused. 'Each other.'

'Each other?'

'Erin and Dimitri.'

He stared at her. 'Seriously?'

'I think so.'

'Well.' He chuckled. 'For all I'm a spy I didn't see that one coming. I wouldn't have thought Erin would be into toyboys. But what do I know. Good luck to them.'

She returned to her rummaging, and he watched her for a moment. 'Ruth…'

Job done. She zipped up her holdall. 'Mmm?'

'I – er – popped out earlier and got you a little something. Just as a token of my esteem.'

Pompous to the last, she thought, smothering a smile. 'Was that what you were doing when you should have been meeting Dolby?'

'Almost inevitably.'

They shared a mischievous smile. 'You shouldn't have,' she said quietly.

His left hand held out the distinctive pale blue box he'd been hiding behind his back. Tiffany.

Her eyes widened. 'Oh, no, Harry, really, you shouldn't have.'

'Please.'

Reluctantly, she took the box, feeling the familiar jolt as her fingers brushed his. Untying the white bow she slid off the lid. Inside lay a white gold necklace with an etoile heart charm, inlaid with five tiny, round diamonds. Her breath caught.

'If - if you don't like it I can change it for something else. Please don't feel you have to be polite; I'd rather….'

'It's gorgeous,' she whispered.

His heart lifted. 'Really?'

'Really. Thank you.' She managed a watery smile and then her eyes dropped to the box once more. 'I don't suppose you could put it on for me? I'm a bit fingers and thumbs when it comes to catches.'

'Of course.' As he moved behind her and took the proffered chain between his fingertips, she bundled her hair into a pony tail and lifted it out of the way. It took all his self-restraint not to bend and kiss the soft, creamy skin of her neck, but he was not averse to prolonging the moment. Looping the necklace over her head, he inhaled the faint scent of her perfume. Chanel No 5, unless he was much mistaken; an old favourite of his mother's.

'Nice perfume,' he said, as he fumbled with the catch.

'Thank you. It's Chanel No 5; my mother buys me a bottle for Christmas every year.'

'Your signature scent.' He smiled.

'Something like that. I don't wear it very often though. Are you managing okay there?'

'Hm?' He dragged his thoughts back to the matter in hand. 'Oh, yes. It's just a bit fiddly. There you go.' He let his hands drop, and she birled round to face him.

'How do I look?'

The necklace nestled at the top of her breasts, and he realised that he was staring. Feeling the blush creep up his cheeks he raised his eyes to meet hers. 'Um. You look beautiful.'

Half embarrassed, half amused, she raised herself up on her tiptoes to kiss him gently on the cheek. She felt the rasp of stubble against her lips, then as she began to pull away he turned his head towards her, and somehow kissing him again seemed the sensible, rational, obvious thing to do. As her lips found his, they parted; this was to be no chaste kiss like the one at the dockside too many years before. After the briefest hesitation, he took the lead, pulling her into him and deepening the kiss. As one hand snaked into the curls at the nape of his neck and the other found the small of his back her mind turned fleetingly to the CCTV cameras, but then she felt his tongue tangle with hers and all conscious thought evaporated.

-o00o-

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, reminding her that he'd have to run the gamut of the security boys in the morning, even if she didn't. She was sitting on her desk; he stood between her legs, shirt askew, breathing hard, his forehead resting against hers. She removed her hand from his butt and laid it gently against his chest.

'We should go,' she said quietly.

'Okay. D'you fancy going somewhere for a drink, or a meal?'

She shook her head. 'No. Not tonight.'

The disappointment registered almost like a physical blow. 'No. Of course. Early start and big day tomorrow. I'll just get us a car. Mike can drop you off at home. Can't have you waiting for a bus now you're the Home Secretary's Security Adviser.' His smile was forced, and would have fooled nobody. He reached for her phone and she slipped off the desk and headed to the ladies. When she emerged five minutes later he was waiting for her by the pods, her coat over his arm, her holdall gripped in his free hand. She picked up her bag, logged off her pc for the last time, and shrugging on her coat followed him to the lifts. They rode down to the ground floor in silence; both of them with so much to say but not knowing where to start.

As Ruth stood waiting while her bags were searched, Harry loitered a few feet away. He heard a throat being cleared behind him.

'Excuse me? Sir Harry?' Sotto voce.

He turned. 'Simon. How are you?'

The security guard nodded. 'Can't complain sir, thank you for asking. I just thought I should let you know that there was a CCTV failure in Section D just before 7pm tonight, sir. It should be operational again within the next five minutes.'

Harry's lips twitched. The man should play poker for a living.

'Thank you, Simon. For letting me know.' He patted his shoulder, and turned back to Ruth, who, inspection finished, was saying her goodbyes to the surprised, and seemingly genuinely sorrowful, security team. When they finally headed out into the crisp autumn night, Mike was already parked at the kerb.

'Where to tonight, sir?' he asked, as they buckled up.

'Sir Harry's, please,' responded Ruth, before Harry could answer. He sank back in the seat. His house was first on their route. So she wasn't even letting him drop her off. Was she worried he might angle for a goodnight kiss? Or want to come in for a 'coffee'? How could an evening that had promised so much go so wrong so quickly?

At that time of night traffic was beginning to thin out, and they made good progress. They made small talk about her new job, Harry encouraging, reassuring, enthusiastic; Ruth still riven with doubts. They turned into Harry's street and the car slowed as it approached his house.

It drew to a stop, and Ruth reached for her seatbelt. 'Thank you Mike,' she said. 'Enjoy the rest of your evening.' Without further ado she picked up the holdall and got out of the car. Mike managed a 'Night, miss!' then risked a glance at Harry in the rearview mirror. His face blank with astonishment, he was looking out the far passenger window towards Ruth, who was already walking up the steps to his front door.

'Sir?' prompted Mike, jolting him back to reality. Hurriedly, Harry jabbed at the release button on his seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

'Goodnight, sir', said Mike; like Simon commendably poker-faced.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and for the first time in longer than Mike cared to remember, the careworn face of Sir Harry Pearce softened into a bashful smile.

'Goodnight, Mike,' he replied, and clambered out of the car.

As it disappeared around the corner he joined Ruth on the top step. She was nervously feeding her bag strap through her fingers, but the smile that greeted him gave him courage.

'Are you sure about this?' he asked quietly.

Her fingers curled round the lapels of his coat and pulled him towards her.

The kiss was all the answer he needed.