The next morning, very early, Ruth was awakened by a red flash. She showered, dressed and grabbed a croissant, all as she moved toward the door to meet—Harry? Dressed in a charcoal grey suit, showered and shaved and ready for—what?

"Harry?"

"I'll explain on the way." He took her hand and led her to the car.

"Thames House?" she directed him, completely confused by this situation.

"Of course," he replied, a small grin playing along the corner of his mouth.

Suspicious of his affect, she warned, eyes narrowed, "Harry." What is going on? "Have you had an update on the DG?"

"As I understand it, his family will just be grateful to take him home. The prognosis is quite bleak."

"So they're not expecting him to return."

"No," he replied, the grin gone from his face.

"Will the service look after him, Harry?"

"Of course." They drove in silence for a few minutes, contemplating the frailty of life.

Ruth turned to him. "And you?"

"Well, it seems that our lord and master, the Chairman of the JIC, has determined that MI-5 can no longer function without a Director-General."

"Harry! They offered it to you?"

"Well, first they asked me to come in temporarily to help with the current crisis. I, however, made it quite clear that I was enjoying my retirement and had no desire to put myself in their hands, particularly after the way they treated me, unless the change was permanent, barring, of course, the return of the DG."

"But how—Albany—the enquiry?" she stumbled across her words.

"I've never actually been charged with anything, nor was I fired. And, because of the planned enquiry, I've never been debriefed about Albany, so nothing is on record."

"So by resigning, you actually saved your career?"

"It would seem so."

Ruth reached over and squeezed his thigh. "Oh, that's wonderful!"

"Now, none of that, Miss Evershed. I seem to be your boss again."

She slapped his leg, enough to make her point but not hard enough to hurt. "Don't you dare!"

But suddenly she realized that this could change everything and her heart clenched at the thought. Change. What does this mean? Colleagues? Stress? Walls and consequences. Can I go back to him as the man who sends the young to their death? Her fear must have shown plainly on her face because Harry pulled the car to the curb and turned to her.

He brushed his fingers along her cheek, rounding her jaw and lifting her chin. "It was a poor joke, sweetheart. I'm sorry." Leaning in, he kissed her tenderly. "Tell me what you fear."

"Change," she gasped. "The future. The past. No, what I fear the most is emotion. Pain. Grief. Despair." She could feel her heart going cold as memories assaulted her. Change. Grief. We couldn't make it work when we worked together. Harry was right all along—

"Ruth. Ruth! You're running away again. Worse, you're erecting your walls. Do you love me?" He took her face in both his hands, cupping her cheeks, forcing her to attend to him. "Do you love me?" He insisted on knowing.

The crystalline hardening of her heart began to halt and reverse, from 8 to back toward 5 on the Mohs Scale. "Yes," she responded harshly.

He sighed in relief. "Good. Because I love you, too. Things will change—life is full of change—but how I feel about you, what I want for us, for now and for the future, will not change."

She processed what he was saying. "You're the new DG?"

"Yes."

"Well, I think you'll be very good at the job." She smiled tentatively.

He returned her smile. "Thank you. Are we okay?"

"Yes." She had one question she needed to ask. "Why do you bother?"

In a very 'Harry' way, he understood her meaning. "There's a Ruth that exists behind the formerly vivacious and flighty, currently hardened and efficient, always utterly brilliant woman. That is the woman I love. The rest is just decoration. I love the woman beneath."

Her eyes filled with emotion. "That was the sweetest, most wonderful thing that anyone has ever said to me. Why would I ever walk away from you? Why would I ever let you walk away from me?"

"I do not know," he emphasized each word. "But we need to get to work and save the world."

"Of course."

It was three days before they set eyes on each other again. Section D were dismissed once their reports were completed, but the Lord High Executioner, Sir Harry Pearce, was expected to stay and review each and every word. As a result, Ruth found him on her doorstep at midnight, clad in his navy blue suit, looking exhausted and utterly handsome.

She flew into his arms and he held her tightly against him as she pulled him through the door and into the flat. "I missed you!" she exclaimed.

"Mmmm. I like the sound of that." Harry drew her close, resting his hands on her hips as he lowered his mouth to capture hers. Shifting his mouth slightly he ran his tongue along her lips and she moaned into his mouth, encouraging him to continue but he broke off, kissing along her cheek and down the side of her neck, his hand brushing up her side and coming to rest, gently cupping her breast. She startled and he chuckled sweetly against her skin.

"You okay?" he murmured against her neck.

"Ye yes. Just surprised me," she responded, breathing heavily at the sensations coursing through her body and mind.

He sighed happily, his breath ruffling her hair. "I've wanted to do that for a very long time."

She jerked her head up. "Truly?"

"Hmmm." He pulled back, removing his hand and using it to tip her chin to meet his gaze. "You are beautiful. To be allowed the privilege of touching that beauty is simply wonderful."

"Beautiful? You think I'm beautiful?" she asked, her voice subdued in wonder.

"Hmmm. Yes. Beautiful." He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose, dropping his hand back to her waist and drawing her against him again.

She smiled brightly. Beautiful. "Are there any other secret desires I should know about."

His lips were against her neck again, now on the other side and working their way up to her cheek. "Oh yes. Several. But some will have to wait."

"What do you mean?"

He pulled back to meet her gaze. "Ruth, I've done divorce. I've done affair and brief encounter. They are all crap. If my life has taught me nothing else, it's taught me that the union of a man and a woman isn't just about pleasure. It's about trust and sacrifice—and pleasing each other. It should be protected." He stopped to kiss her brow, perhaps trying to erase the confused furrows there. "When I take you to my bed, I want it to be as my wife. I don't want half a relationship with you, sweetheart. I want it all and I vow to you now that, for me, it will be forever."

"Forever," she repeated longingly. "Is that still done?"

"I've heard rumours to that effect," he replied, smiling lightly.

"Forever. I like the sound of that."

"How about marriage?" he asked, tilting his head to meet her gaze.

"Not yet," she replied but added, "Soon, though. Soon."