"They can't sack you!" Ruth said indignantly. "For what?!"

"The scapegoat?" he suggested. "Ruth, I am less concerned about my career or my job, than I am about catching this man."

"But what are you going to do?" she asked. "If you are… fired?"

"I'm going to concentrate on getting you back to full health, and then I'm going to wine and dine you, until you can't resist me." She smiled, a weak half hearted smile at him.

"Not that I object to that," she started. "But would you be happy like that? To have no job, no responsibilities and to just be… with me? For a man who's used to the weight of the world on his shoulders, wouldn't that be a little... unfulfilling?"

"What I'd do is watch cricket," he said, a small smile on his face. "I haven't watched a five day test match in… thirty years," he said. "I've always been busy. I'd love to sit and watch an ashes test match."

"Oh good," she said. "I'd lose you to twenty two men every week." The smile on her face let him know she was joking, and he had to admit to being rather pleased. That she saw a future for them together. It was nice to know. Harry looked at his watch and sighed. He had to go soon. For his appointment with death.

"You're going to be discharged tomorrow," he told her.

"So soon?"

"Yes," Harry said. "I was… rather insistent. I've had Malcolm upgrade your security, and…" he was reluctant to say the next bit.

"And?" she prompted.

"And I've hired a nurse, please don't be upset."

"Why?" she asked, completely exasperated.

"Because you can't move on your own, you can't walk, you've had surgery, you've been hit by a car and a madman wants to kill you."

"Well," she said quietly. "When you put it like that." He kissed her brow lightly.

"It was the only way you could go home. And I think you would be… happier at home."

"I would," she agreed fervently. He smiled and kissed her. He'd intended it to be light, but it wasn't. It was deep, delicious and powerful. Ruth took a shuddering breath when they parted, her left hand around his neck. "Right now, you have no idea how much I want to be able to use both my arms. To pull you close to me."

"On the to do list," he said, with a cheeky grin. "I have to go."

"Good luck," she said fervently. He nodded in appreciation and left, closing the door behind him. Ruth looked at the cast on her right arm with disdain. God, she wanted to be able to move. She could mover her fingers, just showing out of the edge of the cast, but it was highly annoying to have such limited mobility.

Also in the distant part of her mind, she was very aware of the fact that she and Harry couldn't really be intimate until she'd healed. They'd waited a long time already, and she didn't really want to wait anymore. It was the enforced nature of it that she hated. For the past few years, the fact that her relationship with Harry had never become physical was their own choice. Now, she had no option. They had to wait, and it was infuriating.

Harry sat behind his desk, poured a whisky and waited. The DG was rarely late, and sure enough, six o'clock was announced by a knock on his door. "Yes?"

The door opened and the Director General of MI5 stood there. "Would you like a whisky?" he asked.

"No thank you," he replied. "Harry, I'm sure you're aware of what's being said."

"Gossip?"

"No," The DG sighed, and sat down. "I hate to do this to you Harry, and I don't want to but I'm being put under pressure by Downing Street and the Home Office."

"They need someone to blame," Harry said simply.

"It's not just that," the DG said. "It's… Harry, you have no idea where Charles Thomas is. No one has seen a sniff of him since he blew up Big Ben. It would be different if you were on his trail, and had him within your reach, but you don't. He could be in any rat hole in the country by now." Harry would have dearly loved to disagree with him, but he couldn't. It was true. Thomas could have buried his way to China by now. Dimitri, Lucas, Beth and everyone else had been trying to look for him

"I've managed to persuade people that you are a good officer," the DG said. "We're only going to suspend you. And with full pay until this matter is resolved."

"Until Thomas is caught," Harry edited.

"Well, as you say," the DG replied. "You are an officer of outstanding repute, your record stands for itself. And whatever happens, I will make sure you get the pension you deserve and you've earned."

"Thank you for that," Harry replied sincerely. "I know how this works, so I appreciate that." There was a long silence, only broken by Harry taking a sip of whisky.

"How is Ruth Evershed?"

"She'll be all right," he said.

"Normally I would escort you out of the building," the DG said. "I assume that need not be necessary."

"No," Harry said with a smile. "Thank you."

"I will do everything I can for you Harry."

"Okay," Harry replied. "In the meantime, I have to go." The DG nodded, stood and left, clearly being uncomfortable being in this situation. Especially as Harry could probably have had his job, had he wanted it. When he was alone, Harry unlocked his safe, and retrieved two objects. One was an incredibly rare bottle of malt whisky, unopened. He'd been saving it for his retirement, but there was a chance he'd never return to this office, so he wanted it with him.

The other object was a small velvet box, with an engagement ring inside. For Ruth. He'd bought it years ago, when she'd been in exile. Which had either been foolish and stupid, or incredibly optimistic. But he'd seen it and thought of her. And he'd bought it. He hadn't planned to propose to Ruth at Ros's funeral, so it had still been in his safe. He hadn't looked at it since she'd turned him down, but now he did. Still perfect. Simple. A gold band with a single diamond on it. But beautiful. He thought it was a perfect fit for Ruth, and somehow even in the shop window, he hadn't been able to look at it without thinking of her. Maybe one day she'd wear it.

Yes. One day maybe.

More soon.