I started writing how I wished 9.8 had finished, as a lot of you have done. For some reason, though, it did not remotely turn out how I intended it to, and to be honest I was going to bin it. Had Kudos done this...(!)

Usual disclaimers apply. Normal service on the biggie will be resumed as soon as possible. Thanks as ever for reading.

She had slept badly, tormented by flashbacks of Lucas bursting into the back of the van, binding her, gagging her, emptying the syringe into her, leaving her to die. And Harry...his face swimming into focus as she came round, his relief palpable, those brown eyes saying the words his lips longed to form. He'd saved her life, he'd been willing to give up everything to save her, and he had placed an intolerable burden on her in the process. And she'd seen the light die in his eyes as she'd told him, as his heart broke into a million little pieces. Then she'd let him go to what seemed an inevitable and lonely death without telling him how much she loved him. 'It's my turn,' was all he had said, his face empty.

And then afterwards, Harry had returned to the Grid, bloodied and shellshocked. His lips had moved, and finally he forced the words out, his voice not entirely steady. 'Lucas North is dead. Thank you all for everything you did today.'

She'd watched him go into his office and slump into his chair, his head tilted in the hope that none of them would see the tears that blurred his vision and threatened to overwhelm him. Beth moved to follow him, but was halted by Dimitri's hand on her arm. 'Leave him be,' he said quietly. And his eyes had locked with Ruth's, their message unmistakeable. Go to him. He needs you. And she'd looked away.

Rummaging in her bag for her pass, she didn't notice the security guards approach.

'Ms Evershed?' The older one, James.

She looked up, perplexed. 'It's in here somewhere, sorry, I left in a bit of a hurry this morning.' Distractedly she pushed a strand of hair off her face and resumed her search.

'Ms Evershed, we've been asked to retrieve your pass and escort you off the premises.'

Ruth froze. 'What?' They stood, unmoving, implacable. 'James, what's going on?'

'Sir Harry informed us that you've been decommissioned.' He couldn't even look her in the eye. 'I'm sorry.'

'There must be some mistake. Look, phone him and...'

'There's no mistake, ma'am.'

Stunned, her eyes flitted from one to the other, looking for reassurance, for a crack in the stony facades, for admissions that they were just pulling her leg. None were forthcoming. Wordlessly she returned her attention to her bag, finally pulling out her pass. James took it, and raised his arm in the direction of the door. Cheeks burning, Ruth nodded, and slowly walked across the tiled floor and out into the clamour of the London rush hour.

Dimitri, Beth, Tariq and Alec were seated in the meeting room waiting for Harry to appear. He'd been closeted in his office when they'd arrived, blinds drawn, door shut. 'He's probably been here all night,' Alec murmured. 'The vultures will be circling after this one.'

Beth glared at him.

'He's right, Beth,' came the voice from the doorway. Harry, self-consciously fingering the livid bruise on his forehead, sat down at the head of the table. 'But before they do, let's get down to business.'

'Shouldn't we wait for Ruth?'

'No, time is of the essence, Mr Levendis.'

'What, is she coming in late?'

Harry tensed. 'What Ruth is or is not doing is no longer any concern of yours. Now can we move on?'

Four heads swivelled towards him.

'Harry?' Beth broke the silence.

He swallowed. 'Ruth is no longer in the employ of MI-5.'

'She's resigned?'

'She has been...decommissioned. Now can we please...'

'Harry, what the hell are you talking about? Ruth...'

'Enough!' Harry slammed his palms down on the table. "I do not have to justify my decisions to any of you. Now, we have a job to do and if any of you don't want to do it will you please leave now?'

Taking a deep breath, Tariq picked up the folders and headed to Harry's office. He'd been sitting staring into space for the past ten minutes, a study in abject misery. Tariq knocked, then on receiving no response slid open the door and went in.

'Harry.'

'What is it, Tariq?' His voice couldn't have been more devoid of emotion if he'd tried.

'The reports you wanted.' He laid them down on the desk. 'And, sorry for speaking out of turn, but...'

'Why be sorry? Everyone else has.'

'I just thought you should know. Yesterday, when you went to meet Lucas, when we thought he'd killed you, Ruth...she was in bits.'

'Well, she'd had quite a day.'

'Harry.'

Something in the younger man's tone made him look up.

'She was in bits over you, at the thought of losing you.'

'Curious. She's never actually had me to lose.'

'Look, I don't know what's been going on and I know it's none of my business, but it's pretty bloody obvious she loves you, and going by what you did yesterday you love her too. And ultimately that's all that matters, isn't it?'

'Oh, Tariq,' Harry groaned. 'Would that life were so black and white.' He forced a smile. 'Now, haven't you got a report to write for upstairs?'

One by one Ruth tried all the phonelines in the Grid. All came up number not recognised. Anger now mingling with her distress she ran to the payphone round the corner from Thames House, and dialled Harry's number. As she'd expected she got bounced to reception.

'Thames House, may I help you?'

'Harry Pearce, please, Section D.'

'May I ask who's calling?'

'It's Jane.'

'Jane? Ah, yes. Sir Harry left a message for you. Uh, "Nice try, Ruth, and I'm sorry."'

Dazed, she hung up the receiver. Less than 24 hours ago he'd given a blueprint for a genetic weapon to the Chinese to save her, and now this? It just didn't make sense.

It was nearly midnight when he got home, clutching a Chinese takeaway. As he opened the front door he stiffened. Taking a step into the hallway he closed the door quietly behind him, his eyes scanning the darkness. All at once his shoulders relaxed, and he walked slowly into the living room. The curtains were open, and the pale glow from the street lamp outside the window illuminated the sleeping figure on the sofa. Ruth.

Harry turned to the basket in the corner. As if on cue, Scarlet raised her head and flumped her tail in half-hearted greeting. 'Some bloody guard dog you are,' he grumbled.

His heart hammering in his chest, with not the first idea of how he was going to handle the next few minutes, Harry flicked on the light switch. Ruth shifted slightly, but didn't stir.

'Ruth?' He crouched down beside her. She had a dopey smile on her face; whatever dream she was having, he hoped he was in it. 'Ruth!' Gently he touched her arm. 'Ruth, wake up.'

Her eyelids flickered, then shot open. Before he could react she was half upright, eyes squinting in the sudden glare, her face contorted with fury. 'You bastard!' she shouted, shoving him hard in the chest. Taken unawares, Harry toppled backwards onto the rug. In a rather ungainly fashion he clambered back onto his feet, grimacing and rubbing his coccyx. 'Careful Ruth; these bones are rather more brittle than they once were.'

She was on her feet too, jabbing her finger at him. 'You fired me! You bloody fired me! And you didn't even have the courage to tell me to my face! I tell you I'm not worth committing treason for and you do this? You are many things, Harry Pearce, but I didn't think you were petty and spiteful.' Hot, angry tears have sprung to her eyes and for a moment she is breathless, speechless.

'Well, at least this has demonstrated you'd be wasting your time choosing burglary as your new career.' He held up his hands. 'Sorry.'

She stared at him in bewilderment. 'But why? Why would you do this, Harry? Should I have stopped Lucas, is that what this is about?'

His head drooped. For the first time she registered the exhaustion on his face, the nascent beard. When he spoke, the pain in his voice cut her to the quick.

'Yesterday you acknowledged that I love you, but condemned me for it. Yesterday I tried to show you how much I love you in the only way you'd allow me to, and seemingly this just reinforced your view of me as a fundamentally flawed and worthless human being.'

'Harry!' She is horrified.

'I have loved you since..forever, and I don't see any prospect of my not loving you anytime soon. I've spent my waking hours wondering about the future we might have together and I've spent my dreams holding you in my arms.' His voice began to break. 'Before...Lucas...I thought that seeing you every day but not being with you would be less painful than not seeing you at all. Now I know it's just prolonging the agony. Worrying at the scab. Time to stop kidding myself, I think.' He gave a watery smile.

'I don't think that! You must know I don't think that!' She reached for him, but shaking his head he took a step back, beyond her outstretched hands.

He took a deep breath and carried on. 'But I'd be lying if I said it was all about me. I know I can't make you happy; only you can do that, but it shouldn't be this difficult. And I know that it is difficult because of everything you've been through in the past few years; because of everything I've put you through. With Danny, with Fiona, with Colin...Jo, Adam, Ros, with every death a little bit of you died too. Ruth, for all I once said you are a born spook, this job is eating you up. It's corroding you. And I can't bear it.'

'I'm fine, Harry.'

He stepped towards her and cradled her head in his shaking hands. 'You're not fine, Ruth. You're not fine. And I'm sorry about doing this in, yes, in such a cowardly fashion but do you really think I could have stood in front of you in the Grid and told you to clear your desk?'

His eyes, limpid with tears, searched hers.

'So this is it, that's what you're saying?'

'I'll make sure you get a good pension, the best I can squeeze out of the bean counters. Then go live your life. Be happy. Back in the real world.'

She pulled away from him. 'No...don't do this. Please don't do this.'

He closed his eyes. She gave something halfway between a laugh and a sob. 'Okay, you're doing it. Okay. Fine.'

Harry stood, his arms wrapped across his chest, his eyes unseeing. He was dimly aware of Ruth picking up her bag, scratching Scarlet's head. And then the front door banged, and she was gone.