Harry has poured them each a generous glass of chablis, and they have drunk to another day of married life.

"We have to talk, Harry."

Harry takes a deep breath. He has been expecting this.

Harry nods, taking his time to answer Ruth. "I know …... and I assume you're not talking about my appointment with Towers."

"No. I'm not. Not yet, anyway."

They both wait as they each take another mouthful of their chicken. It is clear they are nervous, but perhaps for different reasons.

"Is this …...?" Harry begins, wanting this `talk' to be over and done with. To her credit, Ruth does not nag. She only ever insists they talk when there is something very important which affects them both.

"It's to do with you never again leaving my side, Harry. You ….. have to …... give me back my freedom."

Harry nods, releasing his breath in a sigh. He is sure he understands what she means. She is not asking for a divorce; she is asking for breathing space. He then lifts his eyes to Ruth's. Her expression is kind but serious. He knows exactly what she means. He has had it coming …... ever since Ruth was shot and he'd believed her to be dead.

"You have to let me off the leash," she says simply. "I can't ….. continue to be responsible for your fears for my safety."

"I know," he says, sitting back in his chair and watching her. "I'm sorry."

"I don't require an apology, Harry. I know why it is you've been worried for my safety."

"It's more than just your safety which worries me …. it's your life. I couldn't bear to lose you again."

"Nor I you, but I have to let you live your life, and you have to let me live mine. Just because we were apart on the day Ilya Gavrik shot me doesn't mean that you could have saved me had you been there."

"Perhaps not, but I would have killed the bastard on the spot."

"And perhaps that's what he'd want you to have done, Harry. I suspect that his shooting me was a form of suicide."

Harry takes another sip of his wine before he speaks. Ruth certainly has a point, but to a man like Ilya, a bullet to his own brain would be easier, so why shoot someone else? "When I visited him ….. Ilya ….. he was hoping for my forgiveness."

"He committed a crime of passion when he killed his wife, and then another crime of passion in attempting to kill me."

"Meaning?"

"Shooting me was the act of a man caught up in his own deep grief. Call it an eye for an eye, but he wanted you to suffer, Harry, and the quickest way to hurt you was to kill me. When you visited him the day after I was shot ….. he no doubt expected you to kill him. I'm almost sure he wanted you to kill him."

"So that I could take his place." Ruth looks across the table at him, her forehead wrinkled in a frown. "Were I to have killed him – for taking your life – then I'd be the one left alive, grieving your death while rotting away in gaol."

"I suspect that's what he wanted all along. I'm just relieved you didn't go to that extreme."

"At the time I visited him I knew you to be alive. I had nothing to gain by killing him."

"I love you," Ruth says quietly, not even looking at him.

"I know you do. And I love you. I'll ….. do my best, Ruth. You may have to remind me if and when I …..crowd you."

"You never crowd me, but I can feel when you're afraid for me. I need you to love me, Harry …. not be afraid for me. When you do that it …... limits me. And with Ilya under lock and key ... I should be safe."

"You'll not be completely safe until he is back in Russia, along with his posse of FSB agents."

"No strategy is fail-safe. I just have to lay low for a while." Seeing the doubt in Harry's eyes, she keeps going. "You forget that I've done it before ... died, and kept a low profile."

"That was different."

"Not so very much. I know that were Ilya to suspect I'm alive he'd find a way to send someone after me. I do understand his need to have you suffer. I respect your fears, Harry. I just need you to trust that I know how to keep myself safe."

Harry nods, and scoops a spoonful of rice from the larger bowl and places it in his own bowl, mixing it with the sauce in the bottom of his bowl. "This is delicious, Ruth."

"Thank you." She smiles across the table at him, her earlier tension having eased. "I measured none of the ingredients. It was made with love and faith …... love for you, and faith that by the time I put it all together it would …... taste good."

Harry looks up to find Ruth watching him as he scoops the rice into his mouth. "Well, your love always hits the spot, and this time your faith has also."

"What do you mean `this time'? The food I cook is always -"

"It's always delicious, Ruth."

Rather than enter the territory of whose cooking method is best, and so risk having an argument over nothing at all, they continue eating in silence. When they are finished Harry carries their empty bowls to the sink and rinses them under the tap. When he again sits down he notices that Ruth has topped up their wine.

"Do you need to tell me about your meeting with Towers?" Ruth asks, sipping her wine while watching Harry over the rim of her glass.

Picking up his own glass of wine he nods. "I met him at his home ... his London apartment, since I'm no longer welcome at Whitehall. We sat in the back garden in his summer house."

"Was it nice?"

"His summer house?"

"His apartment."

"I barely noticed it. You know what he's like ... he'll only stop talking when he's dead. I barely had time to take in my surroundings."

"Did I get a mention?"

"Of course. The meeting was about you and your future, Ruth. I'm just sad it was deemed …. unsafe for you to visit London at this time. There will come a time when we can return to London as a couple, with you alive and well, but it will not be until …..."

"The Russians are all packed off back to Russia, or at the very least, accounted for."

"Yes," Harry replies, turning his glass around and around, his only concession to his nervousness about conveying this news to Ruth. "Were anyone connected with the Russian secret service to recognise you ….. I'd hate to think what could happen. Towers believes it will be at least a year before the danger will be over and we can safely move around London. In the meantime …..."

"I have to pretend to be dead." Ruth wrinkles her nose in distaste, then rises from her chair, her wine glass in one hand, and reaches out her hand to Harry. "It's more comfortable in the living room," she adds.

They settle on the sofa together, Harry's arm across the back of the sofa, while Ruth nestles against him. He grabs the remote control and turns on the TV, which is permanently tuned to BBC News. He mutes the sound, and then returns the remote control to the coffee table.

"Nothing happened today, Harry. I've already checked."

"I guess it's a habit I'm finding difficult to break," he says quietly.

"There are worse habits you could have. At least you don't smoke."

"Mmmm," he replies. "I tried it when I was at university. It was Jane who convinced me to give it up."

"How?"

"She said something like: `Harry, if you're still smoking by this time next week, you can find yourself another girlfriend'. And she meant it, too."

"Wise woman."

"She was back then."

They sit close together, both watching the TV, but not really taking it in, until Ruth breaks the silence.

"Did Towers mention my job at all?"

Harry reaches down and kisses her cheek, a smile on his face. "You lasted ten minutes, Ruth. That shows great restraint."

"Bastard," she says, playfully slapping his thigh. Harry responds by sliding both his arms around her and kissing the soft skin of her neck. They then disengage, with Harry's arm again along the back of the sofa, while Ruth sits a little apart from him, making it easier for them to have eye contact.

"Towers has a suggestion …... one which will allow you to work from home. In fact, it will be safer for you to be working from home. Do you know Rizwan Khan?"

"He's Tariq's replacement. He began in Section D a month before I was shot. He's …..."

"Very good, apparently."

"He's better than very good. He's brilliant. He's the only one on the Grid with passable skills with the Russian language. His uncle's wife is Russian. While my Russian is sketchy at best, he has conversational Russian, and a good ear when hearing the language spoken."

"So …... Towers thinks that between Rizwan and you …..."

Suddenly Ruth sits up straight, turning to face Harry. "He wants Riz and me to listen to the Russians …. to intercept their communications?"

Harry nods, carefully watching her face.

"That's …... that's wonderful. That's the kind of work I love, Harry."

"I know. But that's not all. Rizwan will be given your old position at the Home Office -"

"As Towers' security advisor?"

"Yes. Just until you are safe to show your face again. You are to act as Rizwan's ..."

"Silent partner?"

"Yes, I suppose that's a good term for it, except you'll not exactly be silent. In a way, you will be directing Rizwan, but he will be the one reporting directly to Towers."

"Did you say yes on my behalf?"

"I wouldn't dare, Ruth. I had to ask you first. Rizwan is already setting up firewalls, and I emphasised to Towers that your involvement must be totally undetectable."

Ruth decides to ignore Harry's last statement. "Riz already has more firewalls installed than the Bank Of England," she says in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"He's on call to prepare a laptop for your use. You just have to say the word, Ruth."

"The word will always be yes."

Harry nods and smiles. "That's good. I'm glad."

"Are you really?"

"Of course. I'm proud of you."

"And you? What will you do while I'm slaving over a hot laptop?"

"My job is to look after you." When Ruth frowns, he adds, "from a distance, of course."

"Of course. So long as you're not too far away."

"I'll be in the kitchen ... where I belong."


By 10 o'clock they are in bed. They are lying a little way apart, but holding hands under the duvet.

"Harry …."

"Mmmm?"

"What will we do about somewhere to live? We can't go back to London ….. not yet."

"Do you want to, Ruth?"

"Not especially. I'm …... getting used to living in the country and I rather like it. The air is so much cleaner. Will we ever be able to buy a house out here?"

"When your status is re-established, yes."

"But ….. we could buy something now …. in your name."

"I'd prefer to wait until you're officially alive again. I'd like any house we own to be in joint names."

"Good. That's good." Ruth waits for some time before she again speaks, and by the way she is gripping his hand Harry can feel her mind working, so he waits. "Have you told anyone that I'm alive …... anyone in your family, that is?"

Harry had been waiting some time for this question. He is surprised Ruth has taken this long to ask it. "Catherine and Graham know. I have asked them to not mention anything to their partners until ….. further notice."

"Good. What about Jane and Phillip?"

"What about them?"

"Do they know I'm alive?"

"No. I don't trust Jane with such sensitive information. She's never been good at keeping secrets."

"Alright."

"Alright? Is that all? I expected an objection."

"I tend to agree with you about Jane. The knowledge that I'm alive, and what led up to it would make ideal dinner party gossip. She wouldn't be able to help herself." Harry waits while Ruth's mind ticks over some more. "When she discovers I've been alive all along she'll not be pleased. She hates being left out of the loop."

"Don't I know it? She'll complain for far too long, and then she'll just get over it."

"But it's best she not be informed ... until it is deemed I'm no longer in danger."

"That's what I thought. It might be as long as two years before your status is reinstated, and for your safety, the fewer people who know you're alive the better."

"You're protecting me again, Harry."

"I know. I hope you don't object."

"Not this time, no."

Harry waits for the next question, but none follows and he feels her fingers relaxing in his grasp. "Is there anything else you need to know?" he asks.

"Not right now, thanks."

"And you'll keep me informed about any worries and concerns you may have?"

"I will, yes."

"That's good. Goodnight, Ruth. I love you."

"Me too."

Fin


A/N: And this is where I will leave both this fic and my version of Jane Townsend. For a character who never appeared in Spooks, I feel I have given her enough time and opportunity to have her say.

Thank you to all who have read this, and especially to those who have left reviews. Your views and questions, comments are all appreciated.