It was a cool and foggy along the banks of the Thames. They were both properly equipped for English weather with raincoats and a large umbrella.

It was nine o'clock by the time they had dealt with the loose ends from the day's events. Sally ordered them to leave, insisting everything else could wait till morning. Once again Jaime was relieved and delighted to leave the crowd behind and to have Oscar entirely to herself. They had a quiet meal in a pub and then walked down to St Paul's cathedral. Leaning against the railing by the river side, side by side, hands in their pockets, they gazed up at the gigantic dome, which was gloriously lit up in the dark.

Jaime glanced over to him. He had been unusually quiet since they had left the MI6 offices, and his pensive air left her feeling uneasy. She had asked him several times if he were all right, an affirmed that yes, he was better than all right, and the cloud would lift from him for a few minutes - but then it would settle again. Now as he looked silently at the giant cathedral, she decided she was going to have to push harder.

"You're mad at me, aren't you?"

"No!" he protested, turning to her. That answer came too quickly, she thought.

"Come on." She insisted. "No clamming up, remember? You're mad at me because I went in there."

He looked at his shoes. "I made a hell of a mess of this whole thing."

"What do you mean?"

"I was inches away from beating the living hell out of those two sons of bitches today. When I saw you in that chair..." he closed his eyes as if to shut out the memory. "I almost lost control. I've never been so enraged in my entire life."

"But you didn't lose control, sweetheart."

"I was so out of my mind that I forgot about Tillicott. How could I possibly forget about Tillicott?"

"I thought you were great in there today. Oscar, don't forget that we wrapped this thing up and we're both here and pretty much in one piece. That's good news."

"It was luck, Jaime." he said forcefully. He turned to face her. "And you're just as stubborn as you ever were. When are you ever going to actually listen to me?"

"So you are mad at me."

"I guess I am." he said, sighing and leaning back on the railing. "Why do you do that? Go sticking your neck out at every available opportunity?"

Jaime felt a wave of guilt. She had pushed her luck today, she knew. "I'm sorry." she said sincerely, leaning into him. "I know I scared the hell out of you - and I apologize. I broke my promise." She looked up at him and saw some hint of acceptance. "It's just that I knew something was up - and I didn't want to let go of the opportunity. You understand that, don't you?" Oscar nodded reluctantly. "I don't know." Jaime sighed, folding her arms and staring at the very top of St Paul's. "Maybe I still feel I need to prove myself to you."

Oscar gazed at her in disbelief. "Jaime! I think you're... miraculous. You don't have to prove anything to me. Anyway, it's not you I'm worried about - it's everything that's beyond your control that worries me."

"Is that so? Sometimes I think you want me tucked away in a white padded room. Nice and safe."

"Oh come on," he said, pulling her into his arms. "It wouldn't have to be white. I'd let you decorate." Jaime laughed, but kept her arms folded, and rested her head on his shoulder. "Okay." he sighed. "It's true, I'm a little ...protective...when it comes to you."

"A little?!"

"All right, a lot." he admitted. But look at the mess you got into today."

She shrugged. "I've been in worse spots."

"Well," Oscar replied carefully, "I'm a little sensitive on the subject of you and head trauma."

"Honey, you have to let me take risks." Jaime replied firmly, pulling out of his arms. "You have to have faith in me. I have faith in you. Even if you don't deserve it sometimes. Even though you do crazy things like make a directive to kill you when you're kidnapped. I've never done anything that crazy."

"I changed that. You know that." he grumbled.

"Still." she said defensively, hands on her hips. She paused and stared at him a moment. He was frowning at her with the uncertain look of a man who knows he's losing an argument but is reluctant to admit it. Jaime decided to press her advantage. "Could you start thinking of us as a team - like Sally and Nigel? I would have been sunk without you today and you would have been sunk without me. We did it together. That's great teamwork, don't you think? "

"My idea of great teamwork means you don't end up hooked up to some brain sucking contraption," he replied, shuddering slightly, "and I don't come out with a goose egg on the back of my head."

"You want an omelet, you've got to break a few eggs." Jaime grinned. Oscar looked unconvinced. "You're not going to feel compelled to tell the Secretary all about our shortcomings on this operation are you?"

"Hell no. It was a triumph." he replied flatly.

Jaime paused to examine Oscar's expression. He seemed so burdened. "Look, honey, you still think you have to be the boss. Let me have half the responsibility - you put yourself in my hands and I'll put myself in yours. You know I'm up to it." He sighed and looked at her doubtfully. "Relax, okay?" She slipped her hands around his waist. "We can be great together. We are great together."

She could see the familiar warmth slowly returning to his eyes. "Okay." he said quietly.

"Thank you." Jaime said, squeezing him in approval.

"Will you try - just try - to make some concessions to my concerns in these situations? So I don't have a heart attack?"

"Yes." she replied, "I'll do better."

He pulled her close and rested his head against hers.

They held each other for many minutes. A fine cold mist clung to Jaime's skin and lashes. She savored the feeling of his arms around her - he felt all the warmer and more substantial against the cold.

"Still mad at me?" she asked eventually.

"Quite the opposite." he replied, caressing her face with a cool hand. His lips were wonderfully warm as he kissed her.

"Can I buy you another warm beer?" he asked.

"Nope." she replied.

"Nope?"

She shook her head. "I've got a different activity in mind." She smiled. "Something involving a hotel room and two warm bodies."

He returned her smile in that sparkly, conspiratorial way that turned her to butter. He slipped out of the embrace, grasped her hand in his and started briskly in the direction of the nearest tube station.

Jaime could feel all of Oscar's protectiveness in the way they made love that night. It was as though he wanted to envelope her completely and hold her in the deepest and safest part of his heart. She ached with love for him.