After some awkward and unnecessary introductions, she ushered him into the sitting room and motioned for him to sit down.

"Harry's at a meeting, but he should be back soon. Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks," he said, a little curtly.

Rather than sit, he started to pace. It really was unnerving. He may have been thinner and slightly taller, but Graham looked so much like his father that it was as if Ruth had been put in a time machine and knocked back twenty-five years. He even had the same pout. Graham looked to her like this was the last place on earth he wanted to be. She wondered at Catherine's methods of persuasion.

"So, you're getting married?" he asked.

"Yes, but we haven't set a date yet."

"Good luck." He responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Before she could reply, Harry appeared in the doorway, and if he was surprised he didn't show it in his face.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Ruth retreated upstairs; father and son had a lot to talk about, and she thought it was better to leave them to it. She found a book and read the same paragraph five times without retaining any of it. She continued to hear a murmur of voices from downstairs, which she took as a good sign. As if on cue, once this positive thought crossed her mind, raised voices were punctuated by the front door being slammed.

Harry sat with his head in his hands, berating himself for what had just happened. It had been three years since he had clapped eyes on his son, much less talked to him, and it took about five minutes for all the old wounds to be ripped open. He should have been patient, let him say what he came to say. Instead, he treated him not unlike someone in an MI-5 interrogation room. He was so angry with himself, he barely registered Ruth entering the room, and putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Not now, Ruth!"

He got up, grabbed his coat, and strode out the door, almost before Ruth could react.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The Red Flash came soon after, while Harry was out God knows where. She was sad and angry, and silently cursed Graham as she took one last look at the still-undecorated Christmas tree before heading back to Thames House.

Intelligence had come in about a series of bombs in Central London over the next few days. The briefing was short and to the point, and everyone had their tasks to do. More than one person had noticed that Harry and Ruth had come in separately and neither had looked at the other, but none were stupid enough to voice their thoughts out loud.

Harry was on his phone when Ruth came in with the latest update. She placed the folder on his desk, but before she could leave the office, Harry had closed the door and leaned against it, barring her exit. He put his mobile back in his pocket and sighed.

"Forgive me?"

Her annoyance with him had somewhat abated since he had left, and looking at the worry on his face, it left her completely. She took a few steps towards him, and he bowed his head until their foreheads were touching.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You…" Words were failing him, and she took his hands.

"Graham is…well, it's complicated. It shouldn't be, but it is."

"Sounds vaguely familiar," she smiled.

"I love you."

Beth caught Dimitri's eye and nodded her head towards Harry's office.

"All's well that ends well."

"Thank God for that, at least," Dimitri agreed.

"Thank God for what?" Tariq asked, having just come in.

Dimitri indicated the pair in the office, who were still in close conversation, and blissfully unaware of the attention they were attracting.

"Good. I was afraid of what the Christmas rota was going to look like if that continued much longer…"

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The operation continued; the locations of the bombs were still unknown, but a few of the group behind the plot were located and under close surveillance. On the Grid, Christmas seemed like a surreal dream. While the public were shopping and celebrating, they were bent over reports and computer screens, scrutinizing the most random and tiny of details. Everything was starting to blur together.

"Ruth, go home."

"No, I'll stay."

"Go. You're dead on your feet."

"And you're not?"

"I'll need you tomorrow when things start happening. I just need to be conscious enough to not fall out of my chair while I tell the Home Secretary we are doing everything we can. Go. Beth and Tariq will be back in a few hours."

"I'll keep him company, Ruth," Dimitri chimed in.

She reluctantly acquiesced, and was glad she did so when even the cold air from outside failed to invigorate her. She was so tired, she was practically on top of Graham before she noticed him sitting on the doorstep.

"He's not with you?"

"No. He's working for the foreseeable future. Listen…I'm hungry and cold and tired, and you don't look much better. Why don't you come in, and we can at least stare at each other awkwardly in relative comfort?"

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