Chapter 11

One month later

V-Day, Valentine's Day, Violence Day, and all the other names it was known as, was over. The world was healing from the massive civilian assault. Guinevere, looking out her office window, was healing as well. The gunshot wound in her gut still hurt like hell, but she managed.

Harry knocked on her open door. "You wanted to see me?"

Guinevere turned, her hand on her stomach. With her free hand, she gestured towards a chair. "Yes, please sit." She slowly lowered herself onto her chair. Harry moved to help her, but stopped. Ever the gentleman, he knew she disliked anyone treating her as a damsel in distress. "How are you feeling?" he offered instead.

Guinevere looked up at the man who only a month ago had attempted to murder her. "Doctor didn't want me to come back to work, at least not for another few months. It hurts if I'm on my feet too long, but I'm thankful I can walk on them."

"Pet, if the doctor thinks you should be at home, perhaps-"

Guinevere raised her eyebrow and pursed her lips, daring him to finish his advice.

"Sorry, darling. You know best, of course."

Guinevere sighed. "Truth is, Harry, I've spent a lot of time thinking about what you said to me. I've come to the conclusion that perhaps it's time for me to step down."

Harry sat up and frowned. "Step down? You want to be a field agent again?"

Guinevere shook her head. "Let's say I'm taking an early retirement. I'm leaving the Kingsman."

"Leaving?" Harry sat back in his chair as though all the air had been knocked out of his lungs. "Petra, we need you here. We're rebuilding from this disaster, and you're the strong leader we all look to. You can't leave." He paused, looking down at his hands. "Petra," he said, looking up at her, "I...I need you here."

Guinevere smiled. "I know you do, Harry. That's why I'm leaving."

"I don't understand. You're leaving because of me? Pet, if I've done anything-"

Guinevere shook her head. "Harry, stop. You haven't done anything. Well, you did shoot me, but that's not what I mean."

"Who is going to replace you?"

"You are, Harry, should you accept it, of course. I'm submitting your name to the committee for selection of the new Arthur. With your credentials, I'm sure they'll approve it."

Harry still looked perplexed. Guinevere covered her face with her hands. "You're not making this easy," she said, her voice muffled between her fingers.

Putting her hands back on the desk, she started, "Harry, we have known each other a very long time. I know that, on some level, the relationship we have isn't completely professional, but I've always waved it away since it was purely physical. Although I suppose we have always been amicable towards each other."

"Friends with benefits?" Harry offered.

"God, I hate that term. It sounds like we're teenagers, but yes, if you must label it. In any case, I've realized that I've been ignoring my true feelings." She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "In the church, you told me you loved me, and then confirmed it when I awoke in the bunker. I haven't given you a proper response until now."

Harry thought it strange that Guinevere looked nervous. In all their years together, Guinevere always appeared fearless, even in the most dangerous of missions. But here, sitting across from him in her own office, she looked panicked. He reached across the desk and held her hand.

"Petra, I promise you, whatever you're about to say next, you aren't going to hurt my feelings. There's no reason for you to go to such great lengths to avoid me. I should have never told you how I felt. I know we said at the beginning that it was strictly off limits. Please don't leave over something silly I said."

"Can we please go over to my couch? I can't stand sitting behind this desk. I'd rather be next to you, as equals."

"You're stalling, Pet. Just tell me."

"Damn," Guinevere muttered to herself. "The reason I'm leaving is because of how I feel about you." She stared into his eyes. "I love you, too, Harry."

There was silence for what seemed an eternity. Guinevere shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Harry's mouth slowly turned up in a sly smile.

"Harry, please say something. I feel like a bloody idiot."

Harry stood up and walked around behind Guinevere's desk. He took her hands in his and gently helped her to her feet. He put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her, a slow, passionate kiss. "I've been waiting a long time to hear you say that," he said.

(Author's note: Well, that's all, folks! Thanks for reading, and for the kind reviews. I really had to end this quickly because I had no other ideas for it, but didn't want to end on any kind of cliffhanger. I am probably moving on from Kingsman, but am hoping to have some other fanfictions in the works, so please stay tuned! Thanks again!)