The next day, Harry, dressed in an immaculate charcoal gray suit, was escorted away before he'd even finished his eggs and bacon. Pausing at the door, he'd turned back and kissed the tops of the boy's heads.

The boys obviously missed Harry all day. Their minders took them to a park across the city for two hours of play followed by a fast food lunch and it was with much lightened hearts that they returned to the safe house.

At suppertime, Harry had still not returned and Charlie's persistent questioning was beginning to make Sarah feel edgy. When the door finally opened, the boys ran to greet the man but wandered away droopily when it was Ruth who entered, not Harry.

Sarah invited Ruth to share a pot of coffee and pulled out a few more cookies, which she had been told by Teddy were biscuits, the lad copying Harry's vocabulary.

Ruth launched her attack. "What have you done to Harry?"

Sarah was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"He's changed. Harry has been in love with me for years but now—he's different. Are you sleeping with him?"

"Lower your voice," Sarah reprimanded. "Of course I'm not sleeping with him. How dare you? I don't just fall into bed with anyone, you know." Sarah paused, settling her anger. "However, I am glad that you asked me that inappropriate question because it gives me the right to ask you this: when Harry asked you to marry him, why did you tell him that you would have said 'yes' a thousand times but now the answer was 'no'? Are you in love with him?"

"I love Harry. That's obvious to anyone, I think. But I don't want to be with him. How could we ever live that life? The Garden Club, the neighbourhood watch?"

"You don't have to live in the suburbs to be married."

"I don't want to marry him. I don't want to roll over in bed to see the man who sent my good friend to her death; who exonerated the colleague who killed her; the man who would allow a child to be tortured to protect a pathetic secret!" Ruth's angst grew as she spoke but she lowered her volume at Sarah's warning scowl and nod toward the children.

Sarah blanched at the mention of children and then fired to red. "Harry would never allow a child to be tortured."

"You don't know him. You have no idea of the things he's done!" Ruth insisted.

"Oh no? Let me guess. He's sent young people out who've been shot, captured, tortured? He's stopped bombs at the cost of other lives, dearer to you—or him? He's sacrificed friends and allies to meet the demands of the state?"

Ruth gasped at her insight and sat back in her chair. "You—how did you—it doesn't—"

When Ruth seemed unable to complete her sentence, Sarah asked her next question. "Do your feelings for Harry preclude friendship?"

Ruth gathered herself and answered, "I tried to be friends with him and he asked me to marry him—at a funeral!"

Sarah frowned, thinking. "I don't quite see the problem with the funeral-thing—except—" She met Ruth's gaze. "It was the funeral of the colleague who killed your friend, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Ruth responded simply and the two women shared a moment of empathy.

"Ah, now I understand. You know, he probably didn't even realize that."

"Don't you think he should have?" Ruth demanded to know.

Sarah smiled softly. "He's not the most aware individual when it comes to social-emotional issues. He is a man, after all. A little thicker than most, I think, in those areas."

Ruth chuckled softly. "Perhaps. I'm not certain that I'm much better," she admitted.

"Couldn't you tell him that you just want to be friends—that you love him but only want to be friends? And explain why?" Sarah said.

"Could you do it for me?" Ruth asked, her eyebrows raised hopefully.

Sarah began shaking her head and continued to shake it. "I don't want to do that. No, thank you. I would prefer you did it. But, please tell him. He's hurting."

"You care for him," Ruth observed.

"I hardly know him," Sarah replied.

The women sipped their coffee for a time, a comfortable silence between them. Soon, Teddy wandered over.

"Mommy, when is Harry coming home?" Teddy asked.

"I don't know, sweetheart," Sarah replied.

He pulled her down to whisper in her ear. "Does she know?"

Sarah whispered back. "I'll ask her." She turned to Ruth. "Do you know when Harry will be back?"

"I believe they've put him under house arrest to prevent flight from prosecution," Ruth explained.

"What does that mean—for us?" Sarah asked, bewildered by this information.

"I don't really know. I did notice that your guards were gone," Ruth observed.

"We're not supposed to be here. Harry was protecting us by placing us here with him. If he's been removed, they will have removed his security." Sarah began to panic. "Teddy, why don't you go back and watch TV?" But Teddy didn't move, fear colouring his eyes.

"Who knows you're here?" Ruth asked.

"Beth and —uh, Dmitri."

Ruth pulled out her mobile. "I'll take care of it." But her call was interrupted by a rapid banging on the door. Sarah looked at Ruth and Ruth gestured for her to gather the boys together and take them into the bedroom.

"Sarah! Open the door! It's Harry Pearce!"

Sarah ran to the door, looking through and pulling it open to find herself scooped into Harry's strong arms. She flung her arms around his neck and held him, relief flooding through her.

"I'm sorry. It took me this long to lose my tail. I knew you must be unprotected but they wouldn't let me contact anyone. I'm so glad you're safe. Where are Teddy and Charlie?" He released her, looking around the room, immediately seeing Ruth. "Ruth."

"Harry."

Sarah called her sons. "Teddy. Charlie. Harry's home." They ran out of the bedroom throwing themselves into his arms.

"Harry! Hawwy!" He lifted them both in his arms, holding them tightly against his chest and receiving two big, little boy kisses, one on each cheek, drawing a smile to his face, a smile that reached his eyes.

"Harry," Ruth said, moving forward to place her hand on his arm. "Where will you take them?"

"Home, I suppose. I have plenty of rooms for them and they'll be safe there." He turned to Sarah. "Is that okay?"

"Home? For protection?" she asked cautiously.

He smiled. "Yes. Just for protection. Nothing else. Once our Khurdish friend has been apprehended, you won't need protection any longer and you can —uh—go home."

"Okay. Let me get our things together."

"I'll gather the toys," Harry offered, placing the boys on the floor. "You turkeys can help as well." He gave them each an air swat on the behind.

Sarah rested her hand on his arm. "Why don't you speak to Ruth while we pack?"

"About what?" Harry asked, looking confused, searching back and forth between the two women. Sarah moved away to gather their belongings. "What did she want us to talk about?"

"You've changed, Harry," Ruth observed.

"Changed how?" he asked, cautiously.

"You're in less pain. Why?" Ruth asked.

"I've realized—she made me realize," he nodded in Sarah's direction. "That I don't have to see—well, you—as my only chance at happiness and therefore don't need to give up all hope because you rejected me."

Ruth raised her eyebrows in astonishment.

"What?" Harry asked.

"That was very insightful. Not the usual emotional understanding from the great Harry Pearce. Harry, do you think that we could be friends—just friends?" Ruth asked carefully.

"Yes. I think that could work. I am sorry for the times I've hurt you," he apologized.

"As am I. I deeply regret causing you pain," Ruth confessed. Harry moved over and wrapped her in a warm hug which she reciprocated. He felt a warm glow in his chest which he now realized was the glow of deep friendship not romantic love. Friends can live with the kinds of things they'd done, the choices they'd made, but a spouse?

Ruth departed, promising to discuss Sarah and her sons' safety with Beth and Dmitri and, if necessary, the DG.

Harry bundled them all into a taxi and ordered them to his house, brashly leading them in past the guards posted to keep him securely confined. They watched, mouths gaping.

He helped Sarah settle the boys into one of his main floor spare rooms and put Sarah's things in the other.

Wanting to test his theory, he pulled her close, holding her tightly against him. The warmth spread through his chest and a tingle started in his belly and when she looked up to see his face, he kissed her, pressing mouth against hers, sliding gently along her top lip and then her bottom lip, bringing his hands up to hold her face tenderly as he kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, the tip of her nose, finishing once again against her mouth. His entire being thrummed with his desire for her, physical, emotional, intellectual.

"Sarah," he whispered against her ear before kissing it. "I've never been in love before."

She tilted her head sharply. "Be clear," she insisted. "Speak plainly."

"I love you. I love Teddy and Charlie but I love you beyond it all. If there were no Teddy or Charlie, I would still love you. I've never felt this way before—about anyone."

She pulled back to meet his gaze, caressing his cheeks with her fingers. "I have been in love before and it feels just like this."

He smiled and kissed her again.