A/N: Well, it's been a while... I always intended to continue this story but my muse failed me (I never got past the first couple of lines) but now she's back and I'm writing this again! I hope you enjoy. Please leave a review to let me know. I think there'll be 4 or 5 chapters in total to this story.

When Harry returned to the house, he found Scarlet sat in the hallway; eyes fixed resolutely on the front door, and still barking.

"What is it girl?" he asked, bending down to scratch her behind the ear.

The only answer he got was another bark, directed at the front door. Scarlet wasn't known for barking for no reason, so Harry moved towards the door, opening it stealthily. It was dark out; the streetlamp opposite was broken, leaving the street shrouded in almost blackness. The only light was from the twinkling Christmas lights on the houses on his street.

At the end of his path, next to the cypress tree, stood a lone figure shrouded in shadow. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light he could make out more of their features; and his heart stopped. It was her.

She's bundled up against the cold; grey woollen coat paired with a red hart and scarf, her hands stuffed into her pockets. Her boots crunched on the snow as she made her way, slowly, tentatively up the garden path towards him.

She was halfway to the door before she spoke. "Hello Harry," she said with a shy smile.

"Hello," he replied, before looking up and down the street, checking no one was following her. "You should come inside…" he said, stepping aside to allow her to pass into the house.

He shut and locked the door behind them, and in the light of his hallway, looked at the woman who five minutes ago he thought he'd never see again. She was bent down stroking his very excitable Jack Russell, smiling as Scarlett stood on her back legs and put her front paws on her knee in an effort to get closer to the visitor to lick her nose. Her dark hair was peeking out from under her hat – it was longer, wavier than it had been when she left. She looked well; her face free of worry or stress.

"Should you be here?" he asked. "Is it safe?"

Ruth stood and turned to face him. "Do you think I'd be here if it wasn't?" she replied.

"Sorry," Harry offered. "I just wanted to make sure…" He trailed off at the touch of her hand on his forearm.

"It's perfectly safe Harry, Malcolm assured me that the people who were looking for me are no longer a threat. That with the change of government, their priorities have changed."

"You've spoken to Malcolm?" He couldn't help but be hurt that's she had contacted his friend instead of him directly.

Ruth nodded. "I sent him an email a few months ago – used a dead account that I wasn't even sure he still checked, but I had to try Harry. I missed…" She paused, unsure whether to reveal the depths of her feelings. Yes, they'd kissed that day on the docks, but it had been a long time since then… he may have moved on. "I missed home," she finally said, deciding to wait before telling him anything deeper than that.

"Are you… do you want to go through," he asked, indicating the living room door.

Ruth nodded and began to unbutton her coat. Harry helped her off with it, hanging it over the bannister, before showing her through to the lounge, Scarlett hot on their heels.

"Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee? Wine?"

"Tea please," she replied. "I don't think I've had a proper cup of tea since I left."

"Make yourself comfortable," Harry offered, before disappearing into the kitchen to fetch their drinks and wondering what she was doing here, what had prompted her return.

He returned to find Ruth sat on his sofa, her stocking feet curled at her side, looking relaxed and comfortable; like she belonged there. He handed her her tea.

"Thank you," she said, lifting the cup to her lips and taking a sip. "Mmmm. That's heavenly."

He smiled. "Good."

"You've not got a tree," she observed, looking around the room.

"No. I… I wasn't really feeling very festive this year," he admitted.

Silence stretched between them for a few moments, the meaning behind his words not lost on weather of them. The months since she had been forced to leave have been a tremendous trial for both of them; for Ruth the trauma of having to leave the life she knew, compounded by missing Harry. For Harry, the guilt he had felt at not being able to stop what had happened had weighed heavily on him since that fateful day. They'd both rued the missed opportunities they had to be together and had vowed that should they ever be granted a second chance that they would grab it with both hands. Now that their chance had arrived, however, they were both a little apprehensive, nervous about how to proceed.

"So, where did you go?" Harry eventually asked, when his thoughts became too much. "When you… left?"

"I travelled for a while. France, Belgium, The Netherlands, down through Germany and Switzerland, before settling in Italy. I've been in Florence for the nearly three months now."

"Quite the tour," he smiled sadly, remembering his words to her on their one and only date, about taking a trip, visiting all the capitals of Europe, implying that he'd love to take her.

"Not quite," she whispered, remembering the same conversation. "I avoided the capitals. They were too grand to see alone." A blush crept up her cheeks.

He smiled. "And now you're back?"

"For a few days, yes. Testing the waters so to speak. I didn't really have anywhere else to go… I assume my mother and David think I'm dead?"

He nodded sadly.

Ruth welled up at the thought of her mother being told she'd lost her only child. "H-how… how did she…?"

"She was heartbroken Ruth; do you really want to know how much?" Harry asked gently. He didn't particularly want to relive that day, and he was sure Ruth didn't need to hear how her mother had broken down at hearing the news, screaming and wailing before going into a semi-catatonic state for nearly three days.

Ruth considered the look of apprehension on Harry's face. "No. Maybe it's best not to."

"If it's safe for you to be back and to have contact with her – something that I'd like to check on myself – I'll go and see her, try to explain."

"You don't trust Malcolm's analysis of the situation?" she queried.

"It's not that. I have a few contacts, higher up in the echelons of government. I'd like to feel them out first. I need to be one hundred percent sure," he said, while thinking to himself how he couldn't possibly lose her again.

"Okay," she agreed. "So…" She chewed on her bottom lip nervously. "Is it okay if I stay? I understand if not… if you've got plans."

He shook his head. "No. No plans."

Her brow furrowed. "You're not seeing your children?" She remembered he'd worked hard to rebuild his relationship with Catherine after she'd been involved in a MI-5 operation a few years previously.

"Catherine was here earlier. She and Graham are spending Christmas with their mother, as is tradition. I'll probably see them again around New Year. She said she'd phone in the morning though."

At the thought of Harry spending Christmas alone, Ruth was suddenly incredibly glad she'd returned. In his emails, Malcolm had alluded to the fact that he didn't think Harry was coping very well with her exile and had been drinking more and making rash decisions. As soon as she'd received the okay from Malcolm to come home, last week, she'd booked the first flight she could get on – not realising until afterwards that she would land on Christmas Eve.

"You're very welcome to stay Ruth." He stood. "I'll make up the spare room."

"Thank you."

Harry nodded. "Although, I'm not sure what I can offer in the way of Christmas dinner tomorrow," he said.

"I'll be happy with whatever we can rustle up between us. It's a shame about the tree though," she said, looking longingly at the Christmas lights shining in through the living room window.

Harry considered for a moment. Ruth always had love Christmas; her desk on The Grid was always decorated and she was always the first to have written and distributed her cards. He remembered shed once, in their early working relationship, she'd called him 'Scrooge' for not allowing the team to decorate the grid. Here she was, sacrificing her Christmas to be with him and he didn't even have a tree.

"There's an old plastic one in the loft," he replied, "a box of decorations top, I think. I don't know what state they're in but I can pull it down… If you like?"

"Only if it's no trouble," she said, but she couldn't hide her smile. It warmed Harry's heart.

"No trouble at all," he assured.