Friday

Ruth woke suddenly. She was disoriented and it took her a few seconds to figure out what had disrupted her sleep.

"No!" Harry exclaimed again as a he broke into a cold sweat and started to tremble all over. He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, his breathing shallow. "Don't hurt them. Take me instead," he pleaded.

"Harry," Ruth said rubbing his back. "Wake up."

"Don't you dare hurt them," Harry growled, his voice getting angrier as he began to struggle with the sheet that was wrapped around him.

"Harry," Ruth said a little louder now and shook him gently.

"Ruth. No!" Harry cried out, reaching out his hand toward the wall, before he let it fall limb by his side and tears started to role down his cheeks as he began to sob.

"Harry," Ruth said sharply as she slid her hands across his bare arms, neck, and face in an effort to rouse him. "Shhhh... It's okay. It's just a bad dream. Wake up, my love."

Slowly Harry came round and opened his eyes. "Ruth?" he said in disbelief.

"Yes," Ruth smiled. "I'm here. It was a dream. Just a bad dream."

"Oh, God," Harry exhaled. "It was terrible. You were... you were..." He swallowed hard and shook his head as he sat up, pulling his knees up, hugging them to his chest and bending his head down to rest his forehead on his knees.

"Mum?" came a small voice from the doorway.

Ruth reached over and switched on the bedside lamp. "It's okay, Love," she said as she got out of bed and went over to Peter. "Dad had a bad dream. That's all. I'll take you back to bed."

Peter nodded sleepily and let his mother lead him back to his room. He climbed into bed and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Ruth bent down and kissed his hair before returning to her room.

Harry held his head in his hands and tried to recover. The nightmares felt so real. He'd been having them for years now, but since the Albany fiasco they'd become more frequent and they plagued him almost every night. They were always about death. Someone always died. Sometimes is was Adam or Lucas, sometimes Ros or Jo. But even since the day when he'd almost lost her, it had been Ruth every time. Tonight she'd been shot. And the worst part were her eyes. That was the part that always really shook him up; the vacant look in her eyes. He shuddered and fought for self-control.

He heard her come back in the room and looked up at her.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently, concern etched on her features.

"Yes," he croaked. "Peter?" he questioned.

"Asleep," Ruth replied as she got into bed and rubbed his back with her hand.

"I..." Harry began and stopped. He cleared his throat and continued, "I'm sorry I woke you," he said.

"Don't be silly," she admonished. "Would you like to talk about it?" she added.

Harry was silent for a few moments before he said, "No."

"Okay," Ruth replied with a reassuring smile. "I'm here if you change your mind. Just let me know."

Harry nodded and lay back down on the bed. He covered his eyes with his hand for a moment, but the images were still there when he closed them. He sat bolt upright in bed again, breathing hard and willing himself to regain control.

He felt Ruth's hands slide up to his shoulders and begin to massage them gently.

"It's okay," she whispered in his ear as she moved to sit behind him so that she could work more comfortably. "It's okay, Harry," she repeated gently.

Harry took deep breaths and felt himself slowly relax. "That's good," he murmured.

Ruth worked for a few minutes on his shoulders and then whispered in his ear, "Take your t-shirt off and lie down."

She got out of bed and he obeyed her, lying on his stomach.

Ruth went to her dressing table and found a bottle of massage oil that she kept there. She returned to the bed and noticed that although the panic was gone from his face, Harry was still tense and held his eyes wide open as if he was afraid to close them. She got back in bed and began to work the oil into his tense muscles, starting with his shoulders and working her way down his back. Slowly she felt him relax and after a few minutes he began to groan with pleasure at her touch. She happily noticed that his eyes had drifted closed. She finished working on his legs and feet before making sure the covers were tucked in around him, turning off the light and snuggling down next to him.

"Thank you," he murmured, and a little while later, he was asleep.

Ruth stayed awake a little while longer, wondering what Harry had been dreaming about. She had nightmares herself from time to time - she supposed that every spook did – but his had seemed rather more disturbing then her ever were and it worried her. Poor Harry. After a life time of service, sacrifice, violence, and deprivation, she supposed it was hardly surprising that his sleep wasn't always peaceful. Ruth sighed and glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning. Snuggling closer to Harry she closed her eyes and finally fell asleep.

Harry woke up early on Friday morning. He hadn't slept well. Even before he'd experienced the nightmare, he hadn't been able to get much rest. His mind had been dwelling on his argument with Graham. He looked at Ruth as she slept quietly next to him. She'd really helped him relax last night. In fact, he realised that this had been the first night with her that he hadn't had a good night's sleep. Three nights in a row of restful sleep must be some kind of a record for him. Harry knew that any kind of stress that he experienced manifested itself in nightmares. He could control his feelings during the day, but at night they seemed to come back with a vengeance.

He immediately realised that his bad night's sleep had been due to his argument with Graham. He'd always had this kind of trouble with his children. They always overreacted when he tried to help them. Things had been going so well for a change and then he'd had to go and put his foot in it. He should have kept his mouth shut and discussed it with Graham in the morning. Frustrated he ran his hands over his face.

"Are you okay?" Ruth asked sleepily.

"Yes," he replied. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"It's okay," Ruth said and kissed his cheek.

"I know I said the wrong thing yesterday," Harry began. "To Graham," he added seeing Ruth's puzzled look.

"Oh," she said.

"I have never been able to communicate effectively with my children, Ruth," Harry sighed.

"That's not true," Ruth replied. "You were doing great with Graham yesterday, and I don't believe that you've had any trouble with Peter yet."

"Okay," Harry conceded, "perhaps I was exaggerating a little."

"I think that you run into trouble when you disagree with your children," Ruth smiled. Harry said nothing and Ruth continued, "When we disagree, I find that you tend to go into 'Head of MI-5' mode and try to force me to cooperate because you are my 'boss'. I expect you do the same with them. Perhaps you could try harder to convince them and not attempt to intimidate them into cooperation?"

Harry did not like what he was hearing. Did he really boss people around? He tried to recall what he'd said to Graham and found that, though he hadn't intended to be commanding, he could understand how Graham might have perceived his words and behaviour in that way.

Ruth could see that Harry was thinking about what she'd said. She'd been dealing with Harry for years and she knew that it was best if she didn't voice any more of her thoughts right now. He would ask her for her advice when he was ready. So she got up and went to the bathroom.

When she returned, Harry said, "You're right. I was a little high-handed with Graham yesterday. I'll talk to him again today when he comes round."

"Good," Ruth smiled and sat on the bed next to him.

"Thank you," Harry said and pushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

"What for?" Ruth asked.

"Helping me with Graham, helping me last night," he replied as he cupped her face with his hand, "for everything really."

"It's my pleasure," Ruth replied. "I like to help you. I love you, Harry."

"I love you too, Ruth," Harry replied and lent in to kiss her lips.

Moments later, Harry had pulled Ruth down onto the bed beside him and was kissing her like there was no tomorrow. Ruth felt the heat and desire spread through her and she pulled Harry closer as their kisses became more and more passionate, marvelling at how they really couldn't get enough of each other. This had never happened to her with anyone else.

Some time later, Ruth and Harry were lying in each other's arms tucked in under the covers, both completely sated.

"Ruth," he said looking a little embarrassed, "I know that it is a bit late to ask, and I can't think why I didn't before, but," he hesitated, "well... have you... I mean is there any chance..."

Harry paused as if unable to find the words, and Ruth tilted her head up to look at him and smiled. "Just say it, Harry," she encouraged him.

Harry took a deep breath and said very rapidly, "Have you been using any form of contraception?"

"Oh," Ruth smiled. "Don't worry, Harry. It can't happen any more. It's been fifteen months since my last period."

"Well," Harry said, his expression changing from surprise to relief and finally to looking unsure, in quick succession. "That's good," he said finally.

"What made you think of that now?" Ruth asked with interest.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "I've thought of it before, but it never seemed like the right time to ask, and I assumed that, after Peter, you'd be doing something..." He trailed off.

"Yes," Ruth reassured him. "You're right. I would have been very careful. I'm rather enjoying not having to be careful any more," she smiled and kissed his shoulder.

"Perhaps," Harry smiled as he shifted to face her, "I'll enjoy it more too, now that I know there's nothing to worry about."

Then he brought his lips to hers and gave here a long, tender kiss. Ruth sighed contentedly when he released her lips and cuddled closer to him.

"Mum?" Peter said and knocked on the door gently.

"Just a second," Harry called out and began to move away from Ruth.

"Where are you going?" Ruth asked tightening her arms around him.

"I was going to get up," Harry replied. "Peter's up."

"Come in, Peter," Ruth called out and continued to hold Harry close to her.

Peter walked into their room and up to their bed. He paused and looked at his parents lying in each other's arms. Harry was a little uncomfortable under his son's gaze. He'd never found it easy to show affection in public, and with his first two children, both he and Jane had avoided intimate moments in front of them. Ruth seemed to be perfectly at ease, however, and judging by Peter's grin he was also very comfortable. In fact, Peter climbed onto the bed and began making his way up the middle of the bed. Then he flung himself on top of them and gave them both a hug.

"Oi," Ruth complained. "You're too heavy to be doing that kind of stunt any more."

Peter laughed and climbed over Harry to get off the bed.

"I'm going to get breakfast," he said and left the room.

"Please put the kettle on," Ruth called after him. "Do you think he heard me?" she asked, turning to Harry.

"Any more?" Harry asked.

"Excuse me?" Ruth said with a puzzled frown.

"You said he was too heavy to do that kind of stunt any more," Harry replied.

"He's always loved climbing into bed with me in the morning, and he used to climb on top of me and Ge..." Ruth trailed off and looked a little embarrassed.

"George?" Harry finished for her.

"Yes," Ruth said, blushing.

Harry was quiet for a moment. He was jealous of course. Jealous that his Ruth had been lying in bed with another man, and that his son had loved that man as a father. Without a word, he got up and walked into the bathroom.

Ruth was worried as she watched him walk silently away. It had been thoughtless of her to bring it up, and yet she refused to be walking on egg shells around him. "Still," she scolded herself, "You could have waited at least until a month after you were married to bring that up, Ruth." Sighing, Ruth got up, and deciding that it was safer to give Harry some space and skip her morning shower, she got dressed. Then she went downstairs to get started on making breakfast. Peter was already done with his and had gone outside. It was still early and Ruth assumed that Graham would be here soon as he was bringing the digger today. She made a pot of coffee and some scrambled eggs and toast.

A few moments later, Harry walked into the kitchen. Ruth turned to face him with a cup of coffee in her hand. He noticed that she looked worried. She was hiding it well, but she had a few tells that he'd got good at reading over the years. He walked up to her, took the cup from her hands and placed it on the counter. Then he pulled her towards him.

"I'm sorry," he said and he felt her relax in his arms. "I felt jealous for a moment back there. I can't help it when I think of you with someone else, whether it's George, John Fortescue, or Andrew Forrestal."

"Andrew Forrestal?" Ruth said incredulously, pulling away to look at him.

"Yes, well," Harry replied defensively, "you were very pleased to see him."

Ruth smiled. "Seriously, Harry," she said turning away from him and pouring another cup of coffee. "You have nothing to worry about. I've been round the block a very small number of times, so to speak... unlike you," she couldn't resist adding.

Harry grinned and accepted the coffee she offered him. "I was looking for you," he said.

"Next time, you should try using your heart as a guide instead of your..." She trailed off as she glanced down at his groin with a suggestive nod of her head.

Harry burst out laughing, and putting down his coffee, he pulled her into his arms. "You are priceless, Ruth," he chuckled. "You make me feel young again." Then he added in a more serious voice, "Anyway, there won't be a next time now that I have you, Ruth."

"Well, to use a favourite expression of yours," Ruth replied, "that's good."

Graham arrived just after they'd finished their breakfast with one of his colleagues and a small digger, and they set about using the digger, inserting the supports, and stabilizing the tree house structure right away. Malcolm joined them presently, and Ruth spent the morning doing some sewing and talking to Malcolm's mother, Myrtle.

Halfway through the morning, Myrtle wished to watch her favourite TV program, so Ruth set it up for her and excused herself to go and make lunch. She made a pitcher of lemonade first and took it outside for the "Bob the Builders". Then she started work on the chicken she was preparing for lunch.

A little while later Graham brought in the empty jug.

"Could we have a little more lemonade, please?" he asked sweetly.

"Of course," Ruth replied. She got some more lemons out and started washing, cutting, and squeezing them. "How's the work coming along?" she asked.

"We're doing really well. I think we'll be done by lunchtime at this rate," Graham replied.

"Would you and Dave like to stay for lunch?" Ruth offered.

"Thanks," Graham replied, "but we need to get the digger back, and I have to get back to work this afternoon."

"I'll make you some sandwiches with the chicken then," Ruth said.

"There's no need, Ruth," Graham objected.

Ruth turned to look at him. He looked somewhat uncomfortable and reserved today, and she had a pretty good idea why that was.

"Listen, Graham," she began, "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I feel I have to say something. I've know your father for more than a decade now, and I know that he can be infuriating at times, especially when he thinks he knows what's best for you. He means well, but I can imagine that it's especially difficult for you to deal with. You want to have his respect and love, and maintain your independence. Then just as you feel that you finally have those things, he tries to swoop in and rescue you, making you doubt that you ever had them in the first place, or ever will. Am I right?"

Graham looked at her in surprise but nodded his ascent.

"I know your father, Graham," Ruth continued. "You do have those things. He's very proud of you and really respects you and loves you. He just wishes to help you because he cares and worries about you and Catherine, and also because he wants to make up for all the times that he wasn't there for you. Unfortunately, he has no idea how to express it in a diplomatic way. You yourself can't be happy with the location of your flat, but I doubt that you wish to move into a big house like your dad's either."

Graham again nodded.

"Would you let me help you find a better place to live?" Ruth offered. "I am really good at that kind of thing, and I bet you have little time to devote to it yourself. What do you say?"

"I can't ask you to do that," Graham objected.

"I want to do that," Ruth replied. "I like you, Graham, and I really love your father. I would be happy to do that for both of you. Besides it would be something interesting for me to do so I don't suffer from boredom until I go back to work."

Her eyes twinkled as she said that and Graham visibly relaxed.

"Thank you," Graham smiled, "That would be great."

"Okay," Ruth smiled back, "So send me an email with what you're looking for, and I'll find you a bargain. Now," she added, "I'll make you some sandwiches for lunch."

"Thanks," Graham said, and coming up to her, he kissed her cheek. "I'll tell Dad," he added and went out into the garden with the lemonade in a much better mood than when he'd come in.

Graham and Dave left just before lunch with a bunch of delicious sandwiches from Ruth for which they were very grateful. Then everyone else sat down to lunch. The tree house was almost complete. Harry wanted to add a few things to the inside of the tree house and then paint it, and Peter really wanted a rope ladder. Ruth had been secretly sewing some cushion covers for some floor cushions, and Malcolm was fixing up and painting an old wash stand and a couple of stools to add to the house.

After lunch, Malcolm and Myrtle took their leave, and as soon as they were alone again, Harry embraced Ruth and whispered in her ear, "Thank you."

"I'm glad I could help you both," Ruth replied, immediately understanding what Harry was referring to.

It was so good to have someone he knew he could always count on. It had always been like that with Ruth. It was one of the reasons that he loved her so much. "I'd better finish up outside," he said.

"And I'd better finish up with our wedding," Ruth replied.

He gave her a kiss before releasing her and taking Peter back outside to work on their tree house. Ruth smiled as she set about arranged some last minute things for their wedding. Later, she joined Harry and Peter outside for tea and a tour of the tree house.

It really was something. Harry and Malcolm had designed it very well indeed. It felt like a real tree house, despite the fact that the tree it was in was really too young and could not be used to support it. The tree house platform was rectangular. One end of it had a small house on it and the other railings round it so that it looked like the house had a porch in front of it. This porch had a round hole in it at one end through which Peter could slide down the fireman's pole. They were also planning on attaching a rope ladder that Peter could lower to the ground. Ruth helped Harry and Peter with a few final touches to the tree house and then they had their dinner. The only thing that remained to be done at the end of the day was the painting. Harry was planning to do it in the morning.

After Peter was in bed that evening, Harry checked his email and discovered a message from Catherine.

"She's coming home tomorrow!" Harry exclaimed.

"Who is?" Ruth asked looking up from her computer, where she'd been house hunting for Graham.

"Catherine," Harry said. "She doesn't say what time though. I wonder if Graham knows. I'll give him a ring."

"Good idea," Ruth replied.

Harry left the room to make the call. He wasn't gone long before he returned with more information. Catherine was arriving early in the morning the following day and Graham was going to the airport to meet her.

"He doesn't think that it is a good idea if I go with him," Harry said, sounding a little hurt.

"Oh?" Ruth said. "Did he say why?"

"He said something about not wanting to break Catherine's confidence, which I didn't understand," Harry said with a frown. "He refused to explain when I asked him what he meant. He just insisted that it was not a good idea," Harry added.

"It sounds as if she has a secret that he doesn't want to reveal without her permission," Ruth replied.

"But what secret would be revealed to me just by meeting her at the airport?" Harry asked. "It doesn't make sense. Anyway, I asked Graham to invite her to our wedding for me. I expect he will do a better job at telling her all about it than I will. They've always been very close."

"Good," Ruth replied. "I hope she comes. Perhaps you should try calling Graham tomorrow and ask to speak to her. Will she be staying with him?"

"I don't know," Harry said, "but it's a good idea. I'll try."

"Would you like some tea?" Ruth asked, after a pause in the conversation.

"Yes, please," he replied. "But don't get up; I'll make it," he added and went to the kitchen.

Ruth thought about what Harry had said and suddenly was struck by an idea that would explain Graham's strange behaviour. She picked up her mobile phone and dialled Graham's number.

"Hello," she heard him say.

"Hi, Graham," Ruth replied. "It's Ruth."

"Hello, Ruth," he said cheerfully. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," she said. "And no," she added. "Your father is a little worried about Catherine."

"Oh," Graham replied with a sigh. "I know he wanted to come with me to get her, but I honestly can't do that. She didn't give me permission and I can't call her as she's on the plane already."

"I understand," Ruth reassured him, "Is she coming alone?"

"Yes," Graham confirmed.

"It's just that I got the impression that she has some kind of secret," Ruth continued, "and I wanted to know: Is she pregnant Graham?"

There was a stunned silence at the other end of the phone. "How did you know?" Graham asked in an awed voice.

"I assumed that it would be the kind of secret that is revealed by just seeing someone, and since she's coming alone, I assumed it was not a boyfriend and I came to the conclusion that it was a baby."

Graham whistled, "I can see why Dad fell in love with you," he said.

"Thanks," Ruth smiled, "I would really like her to come to our wedding tomorrow, Graham. Would you tell her that please, when you've had a chance to catch up and explain things? She doesn't need to worry about Harry's reaction. I'll prepare him for the possibility without confirming it. Do you think that's all right?"

"I think she'd appreciate it to be honest," Graham replied, sounding relieved.

"When's it due?" Ruth couldn't resist asking.

"In a couple of months," Graham said.

"Wow!" Ruth exclaimed. "So soon. I think it's great news. Your mum must be thrilled."

"She is," Graham replied. "She's also relieved that Catherine's finished her filming and is on her way home. Mum's coming in tomorrow to visit."

"Well," Ruth said thoughtfully, "perhaps I'll meet her. I'd like that. Who's the baby's father?"

"Some bloke who's no longer in the picture," Graham said sadly. "Doesn't want to be either. I think that's the part Catherine's really scared about revealing to Dad. I think she's afraid he'll go after him with a shotgun or something."

"I'm not surprised," Ruth laughed. "Tell her I'll restrain him."

"She'll love you for ever if you manage that," Graham chuckled.

"Well," Ruth said after a pause, "I'll wish you goodnight."

"Goodnight, Ruth," Graham replied. "See you tomorrow."

"Yes," Ruth agreed and the line went dead.

She took a few moments to get her thoughts together and then got up and followed Harry into the kitchen.

She walked up to Harry who was just pouring out the tea.

"Thanks," she said, accepting the mug he offered her. "I have a theory," she added.

"A theory about what?" Harry replied as he picked up his own mug and took it to the kitchen table.

"Why Graham seems to think that letting you come to the airport would give away Catherine's secret," Ruth replied as she sat down.

"So what is it?" Harry asked from behind a cupboard door.

"I'll tell you when you sit down," Ruth replied.

Harry glanced at her. She was wearing her unreadable expression again. He took it as a sign that she believed that what she had to say would upset him. That was not good. Harry came over to the table with the box of biscuits he'd been getting, and placing them on the table, he pulled a chair our and sat down.

"I'm sitting down," he said dryly.

"Well, I can think of only two things: either she's bringing her boyfriend with her and she thinks you won't approve of him, or she's pregnant," Ruth replied thoughtfully.

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "She can't be," he said in a stunned whisper.

"Can't be what?" Ruth asked. "Bringing her boyfriend or pregnant?"

"Both!" Harry exclaimed. "The last time she chose a guy who worked for Mossad for crying out loud."

"True," Ruth conceded, "but he was a good guy. Can you blame her for choosing a spook?"

Harry gave her a mutinous looked and shrugged. "I can if he works for another country," he said.

"We can't help who we fall in love with, Harry," Ruth said gently. "Anyway, I might be wrong. I have been known to be wrong occasionally," she added with a smile.

Her joke didn't make Harry smile. Was Ruth right? Was Catherine really bringing a boyfriend that she was scared he wouldn't approve of, or worse, was she pregnant? Did he really scare her so much that she didn't want to tell him something that important? Harry scowled. "What if you're right?" he asked eventually.

"Well," Ruth said thoughtfully, "you might want to rehearse your reaction to such news, so that you don't end up in another altercation with one of your children."

"That isn't funny," Harry growled.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," Ruth replied. "I'm trying to be helpful."

Harry gave her a sideways glance that conveyed the message that she wasn't doing very well.

"Obviously, I am failing," Ruth sighed. "All I am trying to say is that you should follow your own advise to me from earlier this week."

Harry gave her a quizzical look.

"You told me that it's a bit early to worry about Peter joining the service," Ruth explained, "and that we won't be able to change his mind anyway if he decides to join. You were right. The best we can hope for is to influence our children by teaching them good principles and staying close enough to them that they want to ask for our advise. They must learn from their own mistakes though, Harry. Catherine and Graham both have good principles. They'll be fine, and we're here for them if they run into trouble. All we have to do is make sure that we make it possible for them to come and ask for help when they need it."

Harry sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He remembered when Graham had needed help and how impossible it had been for him to offer it because he'd let their relationship cool to a point where they weren't even on speaking terms. He looked up at Ruth and nodded slowly. "I'll try," he said.

Ruth smiled, got up, and walking around the table, she bent over Harry, and linking her arms round his neck, she kissed his lips softly. Much to her surprise, Harry pulled her down, and she squeaked when she lost her balance. She landed in his lap and heard him chuckle. "Oi!" she exclaimed and playfully pinched his arm.

"Hey," Harry said in a surprised voice.

He grabbed both her hands in his and started to nuzzle her neck, making her giggle.

"Stop," she panted between giggles. "That tickles."

She struggling free from his grasp and tried to poke his side. However, Harry was too quick for her, and getting up, he pulled her to his chest, trapping her arms as he embraced her tightly. "This is war," he growled in her ear.

She glanced up at him in alarm and saw that his eyes were sparkling with mischief, and she relaxed a little. "Let me go," she demanded.

"Say please," Harry teased.

Ruth struggled and managed to get her hand just in front of Harry's groin.

"Never," she smiled sweetly and began stroking him intimately.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "You minx," he groaned and shut his eyes.

Ruth felt Harry harden beneath her touch, and a few seconds later, she stilled her hand and watched as Harry's eyes drifted open.

"Don't stop now," he said in a low, husky voice.

"Say please," Ruth repeated his earlier words smugly.

Harry's eyes, already dark and brimming with unspent passion, glinted dangerously. "Are you sure you want to go down that path, Miss Evershed?" he growled, tightening his grip on her.

"Err.." Ruth faltered, seeing the look in his eyes. Then smiling brightly, she said, "Harry... let go of my arms, and I will be happy to continue."

Harry released her slowly, took a step back, and watched her warily. Ruth was enjoying this game immensely. She could see that Harry had no idea what to expect from her next. He'd never seen this playful side of her before, and she could tell that it was intriguing and exciting him. Ruth took a step towards Harry and placed her hands on his chest. Slowly she lent in and captured his lips in a gently kiss, then the moment she felt him relax and place his hands on her hips, she slipped her hands down and grabbed his erection though the fabric of his trousers at same time as she grabbed his lower lip with her teeth. She heard him gasp, and felt him tense up and grab hold of her arms firmly.

Harry was enjoying himself. He was surprised to find Ruth acting like this. In all the years he'd known her, she'd never displayed this playful, provoking, flirtatious side of her character. It was surprising, intriguing, and was really turning him on. He pushed her backward toward the kitchen table. He glanced at it and noticed that it was almost empty, so steering Ruth toward the empty part, he pushed her against it, pinning her there with his thighs as he traced kisses along her neck and slid his hands under her shirt. He heard her groan and felt her pulling at his belt as she attempted to unfasten it. He chuckled at her impatience and hitched up her skirt before sliding the fingers of his right hand under her knickers and along her delicate folds.

"Harry," she moaned in his ear.

"God, you're so wet, Ruth," he murmured as he caressed her intimately.

"How do you do this?" Ruth panted. "You make be yearn for you with every fibre of my being."

"I'm all yours, Ruth," he whispered in her ear. "All yours."

Harry's trousers slid to the floor and he lifted Ruth onto the table. She lent back and wrapped her legs around his waist, looking at him intensely, her eyes dark and aroused as she said, "Fuck me, Harry."

He couldn't believe his ears. Did she really just say that? He'd never seen her like this before. So confident, demanding, bold; there was not a hint of her usual shyness about her now. He watched her hungrily as she lifted her knees towards her chest, her feet spread to the sides as she opened herself completely to him. "Now, Harry," she whispered.

He lowered his eyes to her core, and groaned aloud as the desire surging through him reached its peak and he felt his erection throb impatiently. He pushed her legs open further with his hands as he pressed himself against her opening, and moments later, Ruth cried out as he entered her hard and fast. "Yes!" she exclaimed and arched her back, "Oh, yes! Harder."

Harry lent over her, supporting his weight on his arms as he placed his hands on either side of her chest, and she ran her hands along his chest and through his hair. "Faster," she gasped and he obliged, enjoying the feel of her all around him, engulfing him, consuming him. They didn't break eye contact as he moved inside her, quickly, deeply, hungrily, murmuring words of lust and love. He brought her to completion quickly and powerfully, and he watched her in awe as she tumbled over the edge, crying out his name as she did so. Her eyes drifted closed and he slowed his rhythm down, giving her a change to recover.

A few moment later, Ruth opened her eyes. Harry was watching her with a look of extreme satisfaction on his face and hunger in his eyes. She began to move her hips with him and felt him change pace again, building them up once more, and soon she could see him strain to hold back his orgasm, so that she could come again. She didn't want that this time; she wanted to watch him as he reached his climax. Slowly, she slid her hands down his chest, and twisting a little to her right, she slid her hand between them and gently cupped his scrotum.

"Oh, God," Harry gasped and she felt him plunge deep inside her as he came. "Ruth!" he cried out.

Ruth watched him screw up his eyes and contract his facial muscles in a beautiful grimace of ecstasy. Then he hung his head down over her chest, his hair brushing lightly against her skin and his chest heaving as he inhaled deeply and rapidly.

"Dear God, Ruth," Harry murmured, "You almost killed me tonight."

Ruth chuckled and reaching round his chest she pulled him down on top of her. She was hugging him with her arms and legs now as he lay over her, his head resting on her chest. They lay quietly like this while their breathing slowed and returned to normal. He supported some of his weight on his forearms, but Ruth still felt a little squashed against the hard table. She shivered.

"Are you cold?" Harry asked and lifted himself up to look at her.

"A little," Ruth admitted. "The table isn't the warmest place to lie, despite the fact that you make a very warm blanket."

"Let's go to bed," Harry said and pushed himself up with his hands.

"Wait," Ruth stopped him and raising her head she kissed his lips. Then she squeezed her pelvic floor muscles around him and said, "Thank you."

Harry smiled and did the same before pushing himself up to a standing position. Ruth felt him slide out of her and let him help her up off the table and embrace her.

"Thank you," Harry whispered in her hair as he held her in his arms. "Tell me. Are there any more sides of Ruth Evershed that I should be aware of?" he teased as he looked down at her. "I knew you were a spook, but I didn't expect you to be keeping that kind of a secret from me."

"Regretting it took you so long to find out, are you?" Ruth replied with a grin. "You'll just have to wait and see what you discover, won't you? After all, we wouldn't want our married life to become dull now, would we?"

"Dull?" Harry chuckled. "I think that after less than a week of living with you, I can safely say, that I will not be dying of boredom any time soon."

They made their way upstairs slowly, discarded their remaining clothes, and collapsed into bed, where they fell asleep quickly and easily.