AN: Here's the final chapter, but I have an idea for an epilogue, if anyone wants to read it. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and thanks so much for all your lovely reviews...


Ruth looked up from her desk as she heard Harry's door open to allow the CO-19 delegation to depart. Harry was framed in the doorway, already looking exhausted and more than a little vexed. He glanced across at Ruth's desk and his face seemed to soften. He had loosened his tie already and removed his jacket, and Ruth couldn't help wishing he'd roll the sleeves of his crisp white shirt up too, as he had done the previous night. After all, he had nice arms. Very nice arms... Suddenly realising she was staring, Ruth quickly returned her attention to the files on her desk, feeling her cheeks burn crimson with embarrassment. It was unfortunate that her zeal for work was so great, since before he turned back into his office, Harry smiled over at her bent dark head.

The rest of the day seemed to pass in a blur. There was no time for lunch, as Dimitri and Beth headed out into the field, following up a lead, while Harry, Ruth and Alec gathered around the computer, watching Tariq conduct face recognition on all the people who had entered or left the Commons in the last twenty-four hours. At last, when it appeared that nothing was showing up any time soon, they all returned to their respective workstations. Harry's office door shut with a snap and Ruth could imagine him pouring himself a double whisky in there.

Seven o'clock arrived. Harry did not look up from his desk. Ruth knew, because she was watching him. Wistfully, she looked down at her files. She didn't know what to say to him, yet, but the fact that he had apparently forgotten all about his ultimatum was oddly disappointing.

"Harry!" Beth's voice suddenly came in clear over the comms. The members of the team still on the Grid gathered around Tariq's computer screen once again. Harry had braced his hands on the back of Ruth's chair, and their warmth was making it ridiculously hard to concentrate on the screen in front of them. She still had absolutely no idea what she was going to say to Harry. Swallowing, her mouth rather dry, she forced her mind back onto work. Perhaps it would all just go away... "We've found something," Beth explained. There was a note in her voice that made Ruth instinctively shiver. This wasn't, she sensed, going to be good news. "There's a coded communication here, to our bomb planter. It's one Dimitri recognises – "

"Pass him on," Harry suggested calmly, and the feel of his warm breath and the rumble of his voice made Ruth shiver in an entirely different way. Dimitri's voice crackled into life. "Harry – it's bad news. The code – it refers to two bombs. Two, not one. Same place, by the looks of things. One for the Commons, one for the Lords." Alec was frozen in horror, unable to believe what he was hearing, as was Tariq. Ruth let out a gasp of shock and twisted her neck to look imploringly up at Harry. Harry had his eyes closed and his face had taken on a stiff, mask-like quality. If only I'd gone down there myself, instead of trusting CO-19 to check all avenues, he cursed silently. Aloud, he asked, in an odd voice, "How long did we have on the timer when bomb disposal diffused the bomb this morning?"

"Fourteen hours, forty five minutes, twenty three seconds," Ruth replied quietly. For once, Harry was not grateful for her infallible memory.

"And that was at seven o'clock this morning?" he questioned.

"Yes," she whispered, almost guiltily, unable to tear her eyes away from his face, which was becoming paler by the second. She understood his anxiety, and his feeling of responsibility. If he hadn't been busy worrying about her, none of this would have happened...

"I wonder, Ruth," Harry queried again after a moment, "have you got the time?" The ordinariness of the question threw her. They could have been in the briefing room, waiting for Beth to rush in late, as usual. Or back at his house, waiting for a TV programme to start. Either would be preferable, Ruth thought fervently, to this situation, here and now. "It's quarter past nine, Harry," she replied, shocked at how late it had become without her noticing.

He snapped into action then, leaning close to the computer screen to make sure he was heard. Leaders do not have feelings, as you well know... Her own words, spoken to Tom Quinn during an EERIE exercise a lifetime ago, haunted her as Harry uttered his next words. "Beth, Dimitri, get to the Houses of Parliament now. Issue the evacuation code Golf Foxtrot Romeo 92. CO-19 will be en-route, and so will we." His voice was commanding and firm, brooking no argument.

"Should I try and find the bomb?" asked Dimitri, the sound of his footsteps loud over comms as he and Beth ran back to their car. Harry was pacing now, a sure sign that he was thinking through a plan of attack. "Yes – time is of the essence. Do not try and diffuse it. That's an order."

There was a pause, and then Dimitri sighed. "OK, Control. Meet you there." Ruth got up from the computer and headed back over to her workstation, as Harry bent down to murmur something in Alec's ear. She was just collecting up some files to return to Registry when there was the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her. She turned and nearly dropped the files as she saw Harry standing by her desk. "Get your coat," he ordered brusquely. "I want you an analyst on the ground." Ruth opened and closed her mouth repeatedly before an excuse came to her mind.

"Tariq – " she mumbled, gesturing vaguely over to the techie's station. Harry raised his eyebrows and sighed impatiently. "Tariq and Alec are more than capable of holding the fort, Ruth. Mike's bringing a car round. Hurry up."


And so it was that Ruth found herself, three and a half minutes later, sitting next to Harry in the back seat of a Service car, trying desperately to think. Ruth spent most of her time thinking – it was her job, after all – but she had never really thought about Harry. He just was. She loved him, of that she was in no doubt, but everything had been complicated for so very long. Both of them were emotionally backward, in possession of harsh tempers and too shy, most of the time, for their own good. But last night had shown her how wonderful a relationship with Harry could be, if only she had the courage to reach out and seize it with both hands. Ruth was not naive, as she had told Harry all those years ago. She knew that their relationship would be fraught with problems – they would undoubtedly quarrel often, and sometimes have difficulty expressing their feelings. But Ruth suddenly realised that she would rather have Harry with the problems, than the problems without Harry.

CO-19 were in full swing when Harry and Ruth arrived. Thankfully, Dimitri had found the bomb and was supervising its slow and lengthy diffusion with all the glee of an excited schoolboy on a class trip. The whole building was quiet apart from members of the Security Service (obviously the evacuation procedure was well-practiced and quick) and Ruth found it rather surreal to stand in the House of Commons lobby alone. She wasn't entirely sure why Harry had made her come her – there was no obvious work for her to do, apart from fielding phone-calls for Harry and keeping Tariq informed. Perhaps he was afraid that if he left her alone on the Grid, she would run away before seven o'clock had a chance to arrive. How wrong he was. Ruth had no intention of running ever again.


At last, it was all over. The bomb was removed, safely, and Alec phoned a few minutes later to announce that a raid made by other CO-19 officers had managed to catch their bomber. Harry, checking his watch, thrust a twenty-pound note into Dimitri's hand, and ordered him wearily, "Go and pick the others up. If you're quick, you might just get to the George before chucking out time." He grinned, clapped Harry on the shoulder and caught up Beth's hand, leading her out. Ruth could hear them laughing with all the euphoria of youth as they left. A soft smile curved her mouth. Young love.

"It seems you've been given a bit of extra time," Harry noted wryly, and she turned to see him looking at his watch. She glanced down at her own, glinting in the light of the Lobby's chandelier. Half past eleven. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Yes. It does." Harry stepped closer, his eyes taking on an intensity that scared and thrilled Ruth all at once. "And was it needed?" he murmured richly.

"No," she replied calmly. "Not at all." She was looking at the ground, at the intricate tiles of the Lobby floor, but she saw Harry's perfectly polished black shoes step away and her eyes flew to his face in confusion. It had fallen and looked impossible grey and gaunt. He was on the verge of turning away. "Oh," he whispered in a small voice. "Right. I see." He forced a laugh. "Well, it was worth a shot." Ruth panicked and lunged forwards, clasping his arm between both of her hands and forcing him around to face her with surprising strength.

"Harry!" she practically shouted. His eyes widened with tremulous hope and his eyebrows shot up. Ruth released his arm and looked up at him, begging him to understand. He was close again. "I didn't need the extra time, because it took me about fifteen minutes to work out that I loved you, and I've been phenomenally stupid and that I don't deserve you at all. When I stopped to think about it." She stopped, before she fell over the edge into a full-scale rant. Harry was silent for a moment, and then he coughed slightly. "Not up to your usual standard, I'm afraid, Ruth." She shot a querying glance up at him, and he elaborated with a wicked grin tugging his mouth, "Only one correct statement out of three."

She smiled, relieved. "Let's not waste any more time arguing, Harry," she replied softly. Gently, Harry cupped her face with his hand and kissed her, slowly and sweetly, but with such passion that "dockside kiss" and "something else kiss" were getting all mangled up in Ruth's head. Between kisses, he growled, "Nothing... was further... from my mind... Miss Evershed." She wrinkled her nose marginally, crinkling her skin up beautifully, and heard her voice, as if from very far away, announce against Harry's mouth, "You know, I like the sound of Lady Pearce much better." Harry stopped kissing her for a moment and raised his head slightly in surprise.

"Is that a proposal?" he asked, wanting confirmation. She nodded and rested her forehead comfortably against his. Harry laughed. "Very forward, Miss Evershed," he pointed out. "I was under the impression that, as the man, proposing is my responsibility." Ruth tutted quietly, and reminded him in a matter of fact voice, "Well, you made such a mess of it last time, I thought I'd help you out." His arms tightened agreeably around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

"I think," he replied gravely, "I might do a better job this time... Ruth Evershed, I love beyond all reason, and I'm very afraid I'll never stop. Will you marry me?" Ruth didn't need to hesitate. She didn't need to think.

"Yes. I will."

It is safe to say that the mosaics of the patron saints of the United Kingdom, which decorate the House of Commons Lobby, had never witnessed a stranger, or more beautiful, sight than these two people, very much in love, cradling each other in their arms and whispering their devotion to each other, finally expressed after so many years of denial and mischance.