Harry had spread the newspaper across the table and was concentrating on an article about the latest scandal in Parliament, when he heard movement upstairs. It was the sound of the shower running, and twenty minutes later Ruth appeared in the kitchen, looking warily at him.

*****

When Ruth had awoken, the sunlight was streaming in through a gap in the curtains and she realised how late it must be. A small shiver moved down her back as she remembered where she was. Rolling over and getting out of the bed, she took time to look around the room, something she had been too exhausted to do last night.

It was simply furnished, cosy, with the large comfortable bed, wardrobe against the wall, and chair by the window. The dresser near the door was topped with an empty vase and three books which seemed to have been carefully selected and placed there.

The wardrobe was not completely empty, and it was curiosity more than anything that made Ruth look inside. She slipped a blue shirt from one of the hangers and, taking it with her, she headed for the shower.

Ruth wasn't quite sure how Harry would respond to her wearing the clean shirt she had found in the wardrobe - it was clearly one of his - but she felt that three days in the one and only set of clothes she had left Edinburgh with was more than enough for anyone. It was rather a mismatch with her flowing skirt, and the shirt had the light smell of aftershave. It smelt of Harry.

As she entered the room and saw him look up at her, Ruth felt her stomach flip. For three years she had wondered if this moment would ever happen, and now here she was, not just back in London, but actually standing in Harry's kitchen. Nervous as hell about what the future held.

The shirt didn't go unnoticed and Harry's attention was quickly diverted from the paper. He offered to make Ruth breakfast, "Can I get you some toast? Scrambled eggs?"

"No thanks. Coffee would be good though."

"How did you sleep?" Harry moved to the pot of coffee percolating away on the bench.

"Surprisingly well actually. You?"

"Not too badly, so long as I didn't move too much." He gave her a wry smile as he handed her the mug of steaming coffee. Ruth thanked him and moved to sit at the kitchen table, where Harry joined her.

It seemed that the shock and excitement of last night had worn off, and it wasn't long before some of the awkwardness of their old relationship on the grid began to return.

"Tell me about France." He asked, breaking the silence that soon descended.

"France?" Ruth was a little surprised, "What do you want to know?"

"Well ... Where did you go? What did you see? Did you like it?"

Ruth laughed gently at his enthusiasm, and started to describe to him the day she first stepped foot in Paris; the beauty of the city and its streets filled with seemingly never ending history.

Being the first stop after leaving London, she told Harry that she found France a much less rewarding experience than she might have hoped. When she began working in the travel agency on the coast, she felt she might finally have found a halfway decent way to occupy her time, and was able to enjoy at least one aspect of her new life.

"But I was only in France for about six months, then I moved to Switzerland."

She told Harry much the same as she had told Malcolm just days before. Even brave enough to admit to him what she had said to Malcolm, that she was lonely and had wanted someone to share it all with. Harry was both saddened and buoyed by her revelation. He wished he could have shared France with her, wished all the fear and confusion had not been necessary, and they could have had their grand tour together.

He was also intrigued by her travel choices. Ruth had continued speaking, and told him about the people she met in the Italian countryside and exotic Spain. They spent the next hour or so talking about Ruth's life in exile. The conversation turned out to be fairly easy, mainly because the focus was on her, not them. Both still sidestepped the bigger issues.

By the time ten o'clock rolled around, Harry knew he needed to raise the subject of him going into the grid. And tell her that she needed to stay away from it, at least for now.

*****

Harry's request had not been received particularly well.

Ruth followed him to the front door. She was not happy about staying home all day, and not going in to Thames House, and had told him so.

"I'm not a child Harry, I can look after myself. And I need to find a way to go back to how it was. I just need a chance. Please?"

"I'm sorry Ruth, but I think it would be best if you kept clear of the office, at least for today."

Harry was insistent, "We both want the same thing, but we can't just charge in like the proverbial bull in a china shop, particularly given the fact you're meant to be dead. I'll go in and get the ball rolling, and tomorrow when we know more, there will be something you can do," he paused for a moment, weighing up what he said next, "Anyway, I think you could do with some time for yourself."

"You don't think I've had plenty of time already?" her eyes were pleading with him to give in, and she could seem him wavering a bit.

"I know, I'm sorry," he said regretfully,"I'm talking about the last few days. It seems to me that you haven't exactly had much time to rest."

"So speaks the man who spent the last three days incarcerated by the Russians."

"Yes, well ..." A grim half-smile plastered itself across his face, "I need to get going. We can talk more tonight." He was looking for a sign that she understood, but wasn't quite able to gage her reaction. He was out of practice.

As Harry stood silhouetted against the light in the doorway, he held out something towards her. It was a key which glinted in the sunlight.

"So you can, ah, come and go if you want. But please be careful."

She took the key from him, and nodded. He smiled at her and left a little reluctantly, but with renewed purpose.

So, what is Harry going to do now? Please review and watch out for the next installment to find out.