I apologize: it completely escaped my mind that I hadn't posted this chapter.

11:

Hope startled at the strangled noise behind her as Zaf literally shoved Jason Donovan into the plate glass of the side façade of the Rubin Museum of Art. When she turned around, she tried to hide a smile, but couldn't do it – her bodyguard had her best interests at heart, after all.

"What part of leave her alone do you not comprehend?" Zaf inquired. "If you continue stalking Miss Pearce, I will be forced to get law enforcement involved, and, to be frank, I don't give a fuck who your father is – there will be a restraining order filed. I had thought you might be smart enough to back off and behave like a human being, but I guess I was wrong."

"Hey, man, I can't help it if I like her –"

Hope heard the plaintive whine in his voice, the immaturity, the blatant… the blatant submission to the authority of someone who was a hell of a lot angrier than she was, and suddenly everything made sense to her with a stark clarity. She took three steps toward Zaf, who held his hand up to indicate that she stay put right where she was.

So, for the first time ever, she raised her voice. "If you liked me, you could have told me so instead of humiliating me and dehumanizing me and making me feel like I don't even belong to myself in my own skin! You didn't have to force me to have sex with you – or follow me like a fucking tosser! That isn't liking someone – that's wanting to make someone your inferior so you have a little pet to play with all the time. And you know what? You probably learned that from your dad, didn't you? Does he like to make your mom scared so she does everything he wants her to without asking questions? Does he hurt her for fun? Does he make you watch him humiliate and hurt her so you know just what to do, Jason? That isn't right. That isn't what love is – that's SICK. That's WRONG!" She took a deep breath and looked to Zaf for encouragement – he was smiling, a feral, smug smile that meant she was definitely on the right track.

"You don't know shit about my dad," Jason snapped.

"Maybe not, but you don't know shit about my dad, either," Hope hissed.

"You don't have a dad – your dad has never been around –"

"He didn't have to be!" Hope shouted. "Because my mom knew how to raise me to be a decent human being who doesn't stalk and rape people! And besides, my dad was doing a very important job saving the stupid assholes in the world just like you who don't deserve it – and he's a good man. He never stopped loving my mom, not the entire time they were apart. And he loves me, too, even though I'm nobody important. So fuck you, Jason. Fuck you. If you come at me again, I'm going to make you wish you were never born. I've got evidence from when you raped me. I've got people who will testify that you've been stalking and harassing me. You don't like me; you think you can use me and spit me out and you know what? It isn't going to happen. I am not your plaything and I am not your toy. I don't belong to anyone. Fuck. You." The last two words were said with such quiet conviction she was scared they hadn't really come from her lips. She didn't know where she was going to find the courage to do all the things she needed to do to hurt him, but having Zaf there was making her feel bold, secure for the first time in months.

"Mate, I think you'd better run along home before I do something I might regret," Zaf warned, releasing Jason from the chokehold he was in against the glass. "Go on, run along home and tell your daddy all about how you've fucked up –"

After Jason scurried off, Zaf faced Hope and said, "You okay, kiddo?"

Hope nodded. "I'm fine. Better than fine. I'm scared shitless… and my heart's racing and I've never been so angry with someone in my life – but I'm okay."

Zaf nodded. "That will be the adrenaline rush – we'd better get you home before it wears off and you get too tired," he instructed. "Get a move on, kiddo. You know your parents got married today?"

"What?"

"You didn't know?"

She shook her head. "Nobody tells me anything anymore." Hope took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. "What does that mean, though? Mom and Harry are married, so… what does that mean? For me?"

They started walking quickly down the street, Zaf watching around them like a hawk for any possible disturbances. He had his arm protectively around her shoulders in case Jason decided to double back and do something stupid, and even though she hated being touched, in this case, it brought her some measure of comfort.

"It means that your parents still love each other," he said. "And that Harry wants to protect you and your mum."

"How does them being married protect us?" Hope asked, honestly curious.

"Well, for a start, it means that Harry is your dad for real, legally, now," Zaf began. "Not just a bit of a name on paper. Now he can help make decisions about your welfare – if you get hurt and are in hospital, he can help the doctors make medical decisions for you. If something happens and you get into legal trouble, he can advocate as your father. If he dies… your mum will be legally entitled to a few things like his pension, bank accounts, etc., prior to the will being read. It's not a lot, but it's very important to Harry that you and Ruth be taken care of in whatever way he can."

"I don't understand why that's so important to him," Hope said.

Zaf's face changed then, softening around the edges a little, losing the hardness of concentration. "Look, I don't know how much you know about your parents –"

"Nothing," Hope said honestly. "Mom doesn't like to talk about anything but me and work. And I don't know Harry… dad… well enough to ask him anything."

"Okay, well, I'm going to tell you some things but you can't repeat them to anyone. Not even your parents, because you aren't supposed to know," he warned. "Before you were born, your parents worked for the British Security Services. Do you know what that means?"

"Is it like the CIA?"

"Kind of," Zaf acknowledged. "Harry was the head of Section D, tasked with dealing with internal terrorism and plots against the Crown on British soil, and your mum was an analyst within Section D – she's the one who made sure we had all the information we needed to understand what was happening."

"Mom was a spy?"

"Well, kind of, but not like a proper spy. Like someone who was spying on information, yes."

Hope nodded, unsurprised – it wasn't at all out of character when she thought about it. Her mother was always observing, always paying attention to all the little details. "Okay," she said. "I… can see it."

"Your mum and dad fell in love, but they didn't do anything about it for a really long time. And once they did, something happened and your mum had to make a choice – either she could stay and keep fighting the good fight, or your dad could stay and keep watch over things. She chose to leave because Harry had more experience and more clout and could do things she couldn't. She didn't want to leave England, Hope, and she didn't want to leave your dad. After she was gone, Harry just… wasn't Harry anymore. He was half there and half wherever your mum was, at least in his thoughts. He never stopped loving your mum. Not for a moment. That's why they got married today – because your mum feels the same way about Harry, and always has done."

Hope knew that he was telling her the honest truth, as much as he could. "He didn't know about me," she said with quiet certainty. "Not till a couple weeks ago. Nobody knew about me, did they?"

"No, your mum kept you safe from everything as much as she could," Zaf said. "She was probably scared that someone would figure it out and take you – and there was nothing she could do about it but hide you."

"But why would somebody take me?" Hope asked. "I'm not important –"

"No, but your mum and dad know things," Zaf said very quietly. "Things that people are willing to kill to know. Someone could try to take you to influence either – or both – of your parents to reveal things that they shouldn't. Which is why I'm here – not just to protect you from your stalker rapist, but to protect you in case something happens."

"Did… did Harry ask you to do that?"

He nodded and smiled a little. "Yeah, he did, kiddo."

"He shows people he loves them by protecting them?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it."

Hope nodded, understanding her dad a lot more than she had. "Are you going to get in trouble for telling me this stuff?"

"Only if you rat on me," Zaf countered.

"Zaf, has my dad always been so…"

"Moody? Aloof? Emotionally constipated? Hard to deal with?"

"Okay, I guess I don't even have to finish my question because you already answered it."

"Yeah, but… your mum? She helps with that – smooths his edges, makes him more tolerable," Zaf said. "Just give it a little time, okay? I don't think Harry knows what to do with you or how to love you because he's probably feeling very guilty about how your mum had to leave. Just know that he does love you because you're your mum's little girl, and you're his. There's no question that you're his daughter, Hope. Just… be patient."

"Mom says patience isn't exactly my virtue," Hope admitted.

"Yeah, I think that's just another way of her telling you that you're like your dad," Zaf said, grinning. "Okay, we're here," he added unnecessarily, gesturing at the stoop of the brownstone. "You're a good kid, Hope – just remember that you're stronger than you think you are. And you fight smart."

"Thanks, Zaf," Hope said, running up the steps as she fished her key out of her pocket.

"How was school?" Harry asked. Hope hadn't said much during dinner and he was trying, unsuccessfully, to draw her out of her shell. Catherine and Lucy had gone out for dinner with Adam, which, if he had to be honest, wasn't exactly reassuring him, but it gave him time alone with Ruth and Hope, so… trade off?

"Fine," Hope said. "I aced the end of book test in AP English Lit, so… I guess my GPA lives to fight another day."

"Unsurprising," Ruth commented softly. "That you aced it, I mean – weren't you reading Persuasion?"

"Yeah," Hope said.

"It's one of your favorites," Ruth reminded her gently.

"Yeah, but they overanalyze it and it's not fun anymore," Hope sighed.

Harry bit his lip to keep back his observation that his relationship with Ruth somewhat paralleled the plot of the novel and maybe that's why it wasn't fun for her anymore. He was under no illusion that his daughter was as delighted with him as her mother was.

"Unfortunately, that's academia for you," Harry said. "Overpick and analyze everything to death and suck the life and soul out of things."

Ruth smiled a little. "Your dad was a bit more of a party animal at university than an academic," she explained.

A tiny smile twitched at the corner of Hope's mouth, and she said, "But he's so serious now."

"Life happened," Harry explained, "and there was a steep learning curve."

She accepted the simple explanation for his gravitas, looking back down at her dinner. "You guys got married today," she said.

Harry's fork stopped, covered in leafy greens from his salad bowl, just before his mouth, and he set the implement aside, not wanting to be distracted now that the conversation had shifted. "Yes," he said simply.

Hope looked up at Ruth for confirmation, which she got with a small nod as Ruth went back to eating. "Why?" she asked, eyes trained on Harry. "You haven't been around for a really long time. Why do you think you can just show up and do stuff like that?"

"Hope, don't be rude," Ruth pleaded through a bite of sweet potato mash.

"No, she's right," Harry said. "It must seem like it's sudden to her, when to us, it's just… the fulfillment of the desires we shared many years ago, Ruth." He reached across the table to pat her hand – hopefully comfortingly and not condescendingly. "Hope, I don't know how much you know about your mum and me…"

"Nothing," Hope said. "I know nothing. She doesn't talk to me about you because it hurts her to much, and you haven't told me anything except you love her. And that doesn't mean much."

Harry exhaled heavily. "Well, there are a lot of things we can't tell you, but… your mother and I used to work together. We went out for a few weeks, but I'd like to think we'd never have stopped if your mum hadn't had to leave. I wanted everything, Hope – marriage, children, a happy home with your mum. Instead, the real world set me on my ass; I didn't have your mum, I didn't have a home – just a house, and I didn't even know about you. So, yes, it seems like we rushed into things, but we didn't – not really."

"Okay, well… what about me?" she asked. "How do I fit into this mess?"

"You're our daughter," Ruth said. "How do you think you fit in?"

"I don't know, mom – I don't know," Hope said, looking back down at her plate.

"You're the most important part of our life together," Harry said, his voice catching in his throat. "While we need one another, we also need you, Hope."

She fell silent, still staring into her dinner. "I know you worked in the Security Services," she said. "Zaf told me that much. But I don't understand why you're both lying to me."

"I can't tell you everything you want to know," he sighed. "I'm trying not to lie to you, though."

Hope poked at her dinner glumly. "Yeah, okay," she said with a sarcastic note to her tone. "I get it. Secrets and things you can't tell me about. I get it." She shoved away from the table and said, "Sorry, I need to go get some air."

"In the yard," Harry snapped. "You can't go out without Zaf."

"You know what? I could do things before you came along," Hope said sharply. "Mom wasn't worried I was going to get murdered or… whatever."

"Enough," Ruth said, her voice breaking. "Stop it, both of you, please."

Harry didn't know what to do, how to unstick the situation, so he did what Ruth wanted, falling absolutely silent. He grabbed his fork and began eating again, trying very hard not to look as miserable as he felt. Obviously, he couldn't do anything right by his daughter, so what was the point in trying?

"But mom –"

"I won't have it, Hope," Ruth snapped. "Enough is enough. Your father and I got married. End of."

Hope growled something indistinguishable and ran off. They could hear a door slamming behind her, and Harry just hoped that if she went outside, she was smart enough to take her coat with her.

"That didn't go well," Ruth muttered.

"No," he agreed. "It did not."

"Can't you at least try with her?" Ruth asked, sighing in exasperation.

"I am trying, despite all my limitations – which you know so very well," he countered. "I'm just not adequate enough to handle a teenaged girl, apparently."

Ruth sighed and finished the last of her food. "I'm going to go find her –"

"No, leave it," he said softly. "Eventually, we will have to tell her everything. But not now."

"Why not now?" she countered. "She's trying to understand, Harry – she doesn't understand why her mum, who has never in her lifetime shown any interest in anyone but her, suddenly can't live without this man, this… interloper in their relationship. She doesn't understand. We're meant to teach her, to show her… everything we can."

"Yes, but not now," Harry repeated, toying with his mash. "We got married today, Ruth, and we're worrying that our daughter doesn't understand what it means, when we should be worried that neither of us really understand what it means."

"It means we're a proper family now," Ruth muttered. "And we can't neglect even one of ours for a moment, Harry. Not a moment."

The door slammed again, and Hope moved around downstairs before stomping back up to the dining room. "I know you're spies," she spat angrily. "I know that mom had to leave England because of you. What I don't know is why you got married now, if there's still a danger that either – or both of you – could be taken and tortured for information. You aren't safer together: you're more vulnerable this way. You're more vulnerable because you love each other – and me. So why?"

"To protect you," Harry said, astounded that Hope had put so many pieces together so quickly. Clearly, he had underestimated her intelligence – a mistake he would have to rectify. "And your mum."

Hope scowled at him for a long moment, then said, "How exactly does that work, Harry?"

"If I die, you and your mum will inherit a portion of my estate. You have somewhere to live, food in your belly, medical insurance…"

Ruth snorted. "Harry…"

"I love you," he muttered, glaring at his child with as much venom as she was shooting in his direction. "All right? I love you and I need you to understand that I am trying to protect you and your mother right now, as much as I can! And one of the ways I can do that is by marriage. It's barbaric, but there it is. Your mum is not my possession, and neither are you – you're both free to go any time you want, or need, to. But I'm asking – begging – your consideration before you do."

"I'm not going anywhere," Ruth said firmly. "Not again." She reached over and clutched his hand tightly, weaving their fingers together. "I'm not running away again, Harry."

Hope watched them for a long time, then she said – with deep resignation in her tone, "Why didn't you just tell me? Why can't you talk to me?"

"Because I'm not good at… this. All this emotional crap," Harry muttered. "How can I tell you how I feel when I can't even tell your mum how I feel about her? We've been together for…"

"Sixteen years," Ruth supplied. "There never was anyone else, Harry."

"And we've known each other for close to nineteen years," he continued, "and I still can't tell her how I feel."

"You don't have to," Ruth said softly, squeezing his hand. "I know, Harry."

Hope slumped into her chair and sighed. "I don't know what to do – how I'm supposed to feel about any of this," she admitted quietly.

"Neither do we," Harry said.

"It's all very… new and scary," Ruth added.

"But we're family," Harry said firmly. "And no one gets left behind, Hope. No one."

The close quarters of the produce shop meant that Harry didn't realize he'd been tagged until the barrel of a gun pressed into his back. "Put the juice back and head to the door," the man said with accented English. "You don't have a choice, Mr. Pearce, so do as you're told."

Harry bit back a laugh of ironic pain; he'd been protecting Ruth and his family, but he had seemingly neglected his own security. Seemingly being the operative word. His ace in the hole was busy wandering the Chelsea Market, trying to blend in before he followed them. The gun in his ribs was enough to make him walk, slowly and steadily, with his captor.

So…

Now the trap was tripped, he wondered how long he was going to have to put up with the man's halitosis.

He wasn't scared to die, not anymore. Not after all he had seen, all he had done. If he had to die, he would embrace Death as an old friend, rather than a foe.

But he wanted to live; for Hope's sake, for Ruth's sake, for Lucy and Catherine and Graham and Peter… he wanted badly to live.

Twenty minutes later, he knew.

He knew with a sick sense of dread that he wasn't going to get out of the warehouse alive.

He just hoped that Ruth wasn't going to allow herself to be captured. Because he couldn't bear the thought of her seeing him die.

A gun was pressed roughly to his temple. "I'll make your choice simple, Harry. You tell me where the uranium is. You have no other option. You have no choices."

Harry licked his lips and said, "There is always another option."

Mani's smile was cold, igniting anger in his eyes. "Bring me the wife," he said. "Perhaps she will be more amenable."

"Leave my wife out of this –"

"You know what's ironic, Harry? Your little band of misfits are so inept they couldn't follow the breadcrumb trail. I wasn't even trying to hide."

Bits and pieces fell together, the puzzle finally complete in his head. Mani had been after Ruth all of this time. Shit. SHIT.

He had led her right up to the altar like a lamb to the slaughter.