A/N: This chapter follows episode 9.4. It's a bit longer than previous chapters, and jumps around a bit, but I hope you all enjoy it just the same.

The days passed, one right after the other, much faster than Ruth would have liked. The world spun on, oblivious to the doubt that threatened to drown her. She still didn't know what she wanted from Harry, still didn't know what she was going to do, once the baby came, still didn't know how they were going to make this work, after she left the service. That she would leave was a foregone conclusion; it was the only certainty in her life, and she clung to it. She had made a promise to the peanut, and she had no intention of breaking it.

Near the beginning of the fourth month of her pregnancy, Ruth cornered Harry in his office before the morning meeting. The Chinese were on the agenda for the day, but there was something she very much needed to discuss with Harry, before they started in on work. They had not seen one another outside of the Grid since the night of their strange dinner; she wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to say to him, and for his part he seemed to be, not avoiding her exactly, but not seeking her out, either. A strange new tension had sprung up between them, motivated not by anger and hurt feelings but by doubt and confusion, and Ruth had no idea how to handle it. She had offered Harry an invitation, however, and she wasn't about to withdraw it.

"Harry," she said as she slipped through his office door.

He looked up at her, the corner of his mouth ticked up as if he were slightly amused, and she could almost hear the playful admonishment that died on his lips, something about how knocking was the done thing, but he never quite got there. Instead his almost-smile faded, and he answered her in a soft voice, saying only, "Ruth."

"I've got that appointment coming up soon, for the amnio. I was wondering-"

"I'm still planning to attend, Ruth," he said quickly. "Unless," he added, looking slightly crestfallen, "You'd prefer I didn't."

"No, no, I want…would like for you to be there, if you can. If you're available."

She cast her gaze down to the floor, feeling suddenly awkward and shy. Ruth had thought that, given enough time, she might grow used to the idea of her and Harry sharing this burden, but it still made her uncomfortable, this opening up to him. It left her feeling vulnerable and uncertain, weak, almost. She wanted him there with her, desperately, but she knew she had confused him, wounded him, and she wasn't sure if they'd ever find a way to just be with one another, without all this hidden frustration and doubt.

"I'll make sure I am," Harry answered in a firm voice.

"First in for the meeting. Someone's trying to impress," Dimitri told her in a playful tone as he came to sit beside her. Beth was scribbling a few last minute notes as she waited for the rest of the team to join her, and she offered Dimitri a little smile in return. He was such a nice lad, with such a soft heart and a gentle, flirtatious manner that had always made Beth feel comfortable around him.

"I could do with a bit of impressing," Beth answered. It had been just under a month, since the Medea op, and though she was slowly regaining her confidence, she still keenly felt the need to prove herself. She could do this job, she knew she could, and Beth was determined that the work she'd been doing with Kai would be proof of her capabilities. Given enough time she was certain that he could be turned, and when that happened, her asset was going to prove invaluable. Before that happened, though, she needed to convince Harry that she was ready.

The meeting started, Harry and the rest shuffling in and taking their seats around her, and they set to work, discussing the arrival of a Chinese hit squad. The CSS operatives were only planning a short stay; apparently, they were booked to leave in three days time.

Three days. For a moment Beth pondered this time frame; it seemed like something important was supposed to happen in three days, but what the bloody hell was it? She shuffled through her diary in her mind, trying to pinpoint it, and realized with a start that Ruth's amniocentesis was scheduled for Friday. They'd be cutting it close, then, to try to get this wrapped up and get Ruth off the Grid in time for her appointment. For a moment she entertained herself wondering whether Ruth had told Harry. Beth hoped she had done; it was a big day, and he deserved to be there.

All thoughts of Ruth and Harry and the peanut fled as the meeting continued. It seemed Beth was going to get her wish; they needed a Chinese asset, and fast, and Beth knew just the man for the job.

"Chinese assets are notoriously hard to turn," Ruth reminded her gently. Was it a warning or a reprimand? Beth wasn't entirely sure, but she responded quickly anyway, telling them all the she thought she was ready.

"You think, or you know?" Harry asked.

"I can turn him," Beth answered with all the confidence she could muster. She knew she could. She had no other choice.

Once again, things were moving much too quickly for Ruth's liking. Kai had spooked, Dimitri had only narrowly escaped capture in the Chinese embassy and Lucas had spent the night in a cell under a false name, waiting for daylight and his freedom. It wasn't the most auspicious start to an operation, but they didn't have time for recrimination or reflection. They only had two days left now to piece this all together, but thanks to the almost-disastrous break-in at the embassy, they had the information they needed.

Ruth began to explain what she'd discovered after translating the documents, but before she got very far, Dimitri interrupted her, apparently impressed that she spoke Chinese. Once again she had to remind herself that the young man hadn't been on the Grid very long, and the list of things he didn't know was still impossibly long. She soldiered on, prepared to explain the significance of the Amphitrite technology, but she stopped short when she found herself faced with a wall of blank faces. Apparently no one else at the table had ever heard of Amphitrite, in any context.

"Poseidon's wife. Goddess of the seas," she explained. For a moment she was tempted to launch into the entire backstory of Amphitrite and the various disparities in the fragmented myths that survived to tell her tale; in some cases she was fully personified, honored above her husband even, while in others (like Ruth's dearly beloved Ovid) she was no more than a symbol, her power reduced to that of metaphor. Now might not have been the right time for such a discussion, however, so she tempered her enthusiasm and settled for an explanation of the desalination program in stead.

Harry didn't seem terribly impressed.

"Water filtration tech? Would the Chinese really send in a top assassination team just for that?"

Ruth fought the urge to sigh. For a man who had spent his life chasing intelligence, Harry could on occasion be remarkably thick when it came to the issues that really mattered. She bristled a bit at his casual dismissal of her findings, feeling herself growing rather cross with him, even if he did look particularly nice today with his red tie and his soft hair gone shaggy where it curled around his collar. She fought the urge to reach out and run her fingers through those curls, choosing instead to draw up an image of the global drought map, and teach Harry a little something about the importance of desalination technology.

She relayed the information about QMK Technologies, and just like that, they were off and running.

Or she thought they were; it wasn't very long before bad news landed at her doorstep. Harry's phone call to QMK had been less than illuminating, and Tariq assured them that there was no way to get at the company's data, with access to an internal computer. They needed someone on the inside, someone who could pose as a contractor, and access a terminal. She assumed it would be Beth; the girl was eager to prove her worth, and Ruth was eager to give her a chance.

Tariq delivered the death knell to that particular hope, however. There was only one possible point of entry; a translator named Kendra Scott, who spoke French, German, Arabic, and Mandarin.

Ruth felt four pairs of eyes turn to her all at once.

Not again, she thought, her hand drifting down to rest protectively against the soft swell of her stomach. Please, not again.

"It will be perfectly safe," Ruth said quietly. They were once more ensconced in his office, quietly discussing the operation and quietly fighting about whether or not Ruth would go out into the field again. Harry was adamant that she stay behind; Ruth knew she needed to go. "This won't be anything like the Medea fiasco, Harry," she assured him. "I'll be on a stage, in front of people. I'll do a bit of translating, and I'll sneak back to the terminals during break. It'll be over before you know it, and no one the wiser. There's no real threat here."

"There's always a threat," Harry fired back.

In a way he was right; nothing was ever guaranteed. But as far as field operations went, this one was shaping up to be completely benign, and Ruth was certain she could pull it off.

"You'll be with me every step of the way," she told him. "You'll see. There's nothing to worry about."

"I always worry about you, Ruth," he said softly.

Ruth did her part, standing almost invisible beside the visiting Chinese scientist, delivering his words carefully and correctly and trying not to draw too much attention to herself. He was a nice enough man, and complimented her on her accent, which Ruth thought was a rather kind gesture. Beth was positioned in front of the building, Lucas and Dimitri were in a van not far away, and Harry and Tariq were on the Grid, keeping an eye on the lot of them. Overall, Ruth was confident this assignment would go off without a hitch. Her translating skills were up to scratch, and it would only take a moment to give Tariq access to the company's terminals.

In and out, she told herself. Simple as that.

Around lunchtime they took a quick break, and Ruth made her move.

"This is Gazelle, I'm on the move," she said quietly as she hustled up the stairs. Tariq had gone over the layout of the building with her late yesterday evening, and she knew exactly where she was going.

"You haven't got long," Tariq reminded her, as if she'd forgotten.

"You try remembering the Mandarin for quark," she shot back. She could almost picture Harry's little smile as she spoke. It comforted her, knowing he was there with her as she worked.

Though she encountered an unexpected security guard and an equally unexpected locked door, Ruth quickly went to plan B. Faking hypoglycemia was easy enough; just a spritz of water on her face, to make it look like she was sweating, and a bit of perfume to make her eyes red and watery, and the rest was all down to acting. She'd always been a good actress, when the moment called for it. As she slipped past the guard, she grabbed a lab coat and a pair of safety glasses and instantly faded into the background. For a moment she wondered if Harry was proud of her, of the spook she had become. Seven years ago, she would have been completely stymied by the presence of the guard, but today he had barely slowed her down. She tried not to smile as she rushed towards an empty terminal.

Oh, shit, Beth thought. Not again.

"Alpha Two to all units," she said urgently, "I've just received a report from our asset- the Chinese have a bomb planted inside QMK. They could detonate at any time."

Her heart had turned to lead in her chest, heavy and unbearable. She'd done it again. For the second time in a month, Ruth was in danger, and for the second time, Beth couldn't help but feel it was her fault. Why hadn't she got this information sooner? Why hadn't she protested more, when she learned that Ruth would be going in?

"Gazelle, get out of there immediately," Harry barked, the fear he felt for her palpable in his voice. They all knew what was at risk here, not just a member of the team but the mother of Harry's child, and Beth knew that Lucas and Dimitri felt the need to get Ruth out of there safely just as strongly she did.

"I'm in," Ruth answered in a steady voice.

"It's moot. Leave immediately," Harry ordered sharply. He wasn't messing about today, but Ruth was holding her ground.

Inside the building the evacuation had begun, but Ruth wasn't finished yet. "Ok home, you need to hear this," she said, before relaying the information about Amphitrite back to Harry. Amphitrite wasn't a code name for the technology, but for its creator, a woman who was currently being held somewhere in the building.

Who bloody cares Ruth? Just get out, get out now, please, Beth thought miserably. This was an intolerable position. The bomb could go at any moment, and Beth couldn't bear the thought of what would happen if Ruth was trapped inside the building when it did.

"Gazelle, find that scientist fast and get both of you out of there safely," Harry answered.

How could he be ok with this? Beth wondered. How could he possibly find it in himself to give that kind of order, knowing what it might cost him? She rushed inside the building to help with the evacuation, silently praying that they'd all make it through this in one piece.

Ruth rushed down the corridors, desperate to reach her goal and get the hell out of this death trap. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry she told the peanut over and over as she went. This was exactly the sort of situation she should be trying to avoid, and yet she had lobbied for this job. She had begged Harry for it. What the hell had she been thinking?

With a great sigh of relief she found the door she was looking for, and began knocking, desperate to find Amphitrite and get the hell out. Before she could, strong hands grabbed her from behind, and pulled her away.

Ruth let out a little gasp, and Harry felt all the air vanish from his lungs. He absolutely bloody hated this, hated being stuck here on the Grid with Tariq, unable to do anything more than listen as Ruth was dragged back down the corridor. Whatever they were to each other, it was his job to protect her, and he couldn't help feeling that he had failed her. Again.

He heard the smack of flesh hitting something solid, and had a sudden vision of Ruth being thrown to the floor; his stomach clenched with rage, but he kept his mouth shut, listening intently.

"Who are you?" It was a man's voice asking. A man with an American accent.

"What are you doing? Would you please stop pointing that gun at me?" Ruth asked.

Gun? Someone's pointing a gun at her? Harry desperately wished he were with her; he'd kill this American himself, for daring to direct a weapon at her.

There was no time for histrionics, though. They had a job to do, and Ruth needed his help.

He talked her through it, keeping his voice steady, hoping it comforted her the way her voice coming through his earpiece comforted him. She was alive and talking, and that had to be enough for now. Information came out in drips and drabs; Ruth's captors were CIA, they were protecting Amphitrite, they didn't believe the story Ruth was selling about a fire. Harry kept feeding her lines, and she repeated them flawlessly. Whatever else happened today, Harry was immensely proud of her. She'd demonstrated her ability to think quick on her feet, and she'd gotten them the intel they needed. Now she just needed to come back to the Grid, to come back to him, whole and uninjured.

"You had better be right," the CIA man said, and Harry heard Ruth's sigh of relief. In that moment, he felt much the same.

As the CIA shuffled them towards the waiting cars, Amphitrite grabbed hold of Ruth's hand, begging her to come along. Numbly, Ruth followed. She still couldn't quite believe this had happened again, and it took every ounce of willpower she had not to walk away right then. She only stayed for Harry, Harry who even now was speaking to her in that same soft voice, reassuring her, guiding her, keeping her level headed.

Amphitrite asked after her son, and Ruth assured her the boy would be fine.

"The CIA are very good," she said, her words sounding hollow to her own ears. If they were so bloody good, how had they missed the bomb threat? Perhaps Amphitrite was thinking the same thing; she just nodded glumly, and did not speak another word.

In just a few minutes they found themselves in an underground car park, and Ruth kept close to Amphitrite while Lucas talked to the CIA agents. She really didn't care about what any of them had to say at this particular moment; all she wanted was to go home. She got the distinct impression that Amphitrite felt the same. The scientist had stayed close by Ruth's side, almost touching her, as if she drew some comfort from the presence of another woman. It cost Ruth nothing to offer that relief, and so she made no move to step away.

And when the flash-bang landed in their midst, throwing them all to the ground and showering them with glass and concrete as the metal beams above their heads buckled dangerously and the car windows burst, Ruth turned to cover Amphitrite with her own body, but she was too late. She couldn't see, she couldn't hear, her lip was split and bleeding, and their assailants stole the scientist away. Ruth had failed.

Again.

There was no bomb…Kai was a triple agent...no way we could have known.

None of it was a comfort to Beth. She was seated behind her desk, silently berating herself for every mistake she'd ever made and especially those that had led them to this point. From her vantage point she could see Harry lean over Ruth's desk, see him say something to her in a voice too low for Beth to hear, could see Ruth answer him just as softly before ducking her head and looking away. Beth had nearly caused Ruth to be ripped away from Harry, and watching the sweet little scene playing out across the Grid tore at her heartstrings. Ruth meant everything to Harry, and in failing to protect her, Beth had failed them both.

"You couldn't have predicted this," Dimitri told her. Beth wasn't so sure.

"I couldn't have got it more wrong if I tried," she responded bleakly.

Everyone else was trying to track down Amphitrite, the adrenaline from the op had faded, and Ruth was trying to lose herself in details, and not focus too deeply on what could have happened. Could have happened didn't count for much; what mattered were the things that did happen, and she knew that better than most. Half of her life seemed to be comprised of could haves and should haves and might have beens, and there was no solace to be found in regret and remorse. Focus on the present, she told herself.

Ruth had been going over travel logs and old reports, and she'd found something that didn't quite match up. Lucas's travel logs had him taking a tube line that wasn't running on the day in question, and this wasn't the first instance she'd found of him saying he was in one place while really he'd been in another. What the hell was he getting up to? Lucas was a member of her team, and Ruth was supposed to be able to trust him with her life. If he was up to something she needed to know, and she needed to know now.

Thoughts of what Lucas might be doing and how best to mention it to Harry swirled around her mind as she made her way back up from Registry; she'd been digging through GCHQ archives, looking for more intel on this QMK/Amphitrite business, and that was when she found Lucas, in a corridor he had no business being in, with a shifty look in his eyes. She spoke to him quietly for a moment; though she never asked what the hell he thought he was doing down here when he was meant to be on the Grid, Lucas was short and evasive, and as he walked away from her she lingered for a moment, feeling the first sharp sting of fear rising in the back of her throat.

Oh God, not Lucas, please not Lucas.

"You ok?" Ruth asked her kindly. The day was nearly over, and Beth was exhausted and absolutely bloody miserable. She gave a self-deprecating little sigh.

"I can't believe it was all a lie," she said.

"You came up against a better opponent, that's all. Could have gone worse." Ruth spoke so matter-of-factly that Beth couldn't help but wonder what exactly Ruth had seen, in all her years with the service. Triple agents and bomb threats and flash-bangs and kidnappings didn't seem to faze her; how did she do it? How did she keep chipping away at the mountain of horror, day after day, knowing what it had cost her? Perhaps there was no other choice for Ruth now, Beth realized. Perhaps, after a certain point, the service claimed you, body and soul, and there was no way out.

"How exactly?" Beth asked, lost in a quagmire of self-recrimination.

Ruth gave her a gentle look, but when she spoke, her words were firm and precise. "Well, in this job, every day you make it home in one piece, that's a little victory."

Jesus. "Bloody hell. I can see why they don't let you write the prospectus." Beth's words were meant in jest, but in her heart she realized that with one little sentence, Ruth had just revealed the source of her own pain. How many friends had Ruth lost? Beth was sitting there, miffed because she'd been played by an asset, while Ruth watched her, remembering dead colleagues; the dichotomy of their problems was stark and confronting, in that moment. Ruth had bigger, more pressing troubles than Beth's self-pity.

"Your instincts were wrong on this one, but don't stop trusting them after on mistake."

Beth nodded, to show she understood, and Ruth just smiled and walked away.

In the end, Ruth was quite proud of her team, and the way they handled their final standoff with the Chinese. Beth had successfully talked the team down, Dimitri had successfully defused his first bomb, and Amphitrite was going with the Americans, willingly if not happily. They'd all done their jobs well, and avoided any unnecessary bloodshed, but it still didn't sit quite right with Ruth.

So she did what she always did, when she felt unsure and uncertain; she went to Harry.

"Harry," she said, announcing her presence as she stepped into his office. She'd caught him in the act of pouring himself a glass of water. Over the last few weeks, she'd found him reaching for water more often than for whiskey, and she couldn't help but wonder about that. Was he doing it for her, in some misplaced show of solidarity? Was he doing it for the peanut, in some weak attempt to take better care of himself so he'd be around, in the future, when their child needed him? Had he just finally realized that drinking during work hours was wholly unprofessional? She wasn't sure, but whatever the cause, the sight of him with a glass of water in hand made her smile, just a little, just for a moment, before she remembered why she'd come, and all traces of happiness fled.

"If you don't start knocking I'll have to have you fitted with a cowbell," he told her. If she hadn't been so upset, about losing Amphitrite, about handing Kai back over to the Chinese, she might well have smiled. As it stood though, her heart was too heavy to acknowledge their longstanding joke.

"Everything all right?" he asked, noticing her discontent.

No, she thought. She voiced her frustrations, about turning over human beings like pieces of meat, and not for the first time, she watched as Harry came around to her way of thinking, as he considered bucking protocol, just for her. He reached for the phone, and dialed Beth's number.

"If there's anywhere Mr. Kai would like to stop off on the way, do make sure he gets there safely," Harry told Beth before hanging up rather brusquely. Ruth stood and stared at him in shock; had he really just done that? Risked the wrath of the Chinese, after an already tense and politically disastrous day, just because she'd told him she was upset? She watched him for a moment, trying to find the words to explain how she was feeling. None came.

The day had finally arrived, the day of Ruth's amniocentesis, and the CSS hit squad were on a plane back to China. Somehow they'd done it, managed to get everything sorted, and somehow both she and Harry would be free for the appointment that afternoon. In all the chaos surrounding the Amphitrite op, Ruth hadn't had a single moment to herself, to let anxiety about the upcoming procedure overwhelm her, but now that they all had a chance to breathe, the fear rolled over her in waves. With all the protections and safeguards in place, the procedure still carried with it a risk of miscarriage. How could she bear it, if the peanut made it this far, only to be lost because of a procedure she'd agreed to? What if she made a mistake, in going along with it, and her baby died as a result? How could she face herself?

It's not the first time you've put him in danger, she thought glumly. At least this time you're doing it for his own good.

They were preparing to leave, she and Harry, when the news about Steven Owen came down. Twenty-two years old, and going to jail for crashing the MI-5 mainframe and stealing twenty-four thousand pounds from a government slush fund. It didn't sit well, this info about a junior analyst going rogue; how could someone as young and inexperienced as Owen pull this off? As she relayed this information to the team she watched Lucas closely, and she was alarmed by his response. His voice was oddly emotionless as he declared, "a traitor is a traitor," offering her a shrug before turning back to his work. You're right about that, she thought, but what if we've flushed out the wrong one?

"Ready to go?" Harry asked her, his voice soft and sweet and so close to her ear it made her jump; she hadn't realized he was standing beside her until she felt the wash of his breath against her skin. It made her tremble, just a little, and for once, not from fear.

She simply nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"We'll be back shortly," Harry told the team. "Lucas, you have the Grid."

And with that, he dropped one hand to the small of her back, and guided her off towards the pods.

Ruth wanted to shake free from his embrace; she could feel the weight of curious gazes that followed them as they walked, and she knew that every time Harry touched her, that curiosity only grew. Their team had been polite to a fault, inquiring about her health every now and then but never really engaging on any more personal topics, such as what the hell she thought she was doing, shagging the boss. No doubt most of them thought that she and Harry were properly together, that they had been from the start, with the exception of Beth, who had a front row seat to Ruth's quiet, Harry-free home life.

As Harry led her to his car and tucked her safely into the passenger's seat, her thoughts turned once more to Beth. The girl had been shaken by Kai's decision to return to the Chinese embassy, and face whatever horror awaited him back home. Ruth knew that Beth couldn't understand why he'd done it. Ruth understood, though. She knew how it felt, to carry the guilt of betraying a loved one, to feel the horror of their blood on your hands. Kai needed to cleanse his soul, and in order to do that, he'd chosen to accept his punishment. The Chinese would surely kill him for turning on them, but Kai would see whatever sentence he received as penance for betraying his brother. She couldn't help but wonder when her time would come, when she would face the consequences of what she'd done to George and Nico. She couldn't help but wonder if she would be able to face her doom with the same calm certainty Kai possessed.

"You're awfully quiet," Harry said from the driver's seat. "Are you nervous?"

Ruth shook her head. "No, just tired," she lied.

"Louisa, welcome back!" Doctor Peters said cheerily as she led the pair of them back to the examination room. "Who have we got with us today?" she asked, giving Harry a cheeky sort of look.

Ruth sighed. She really wasn't in the mood for this, just now.

Harry introduced himself, perhaps sensing the pensive turn her mood had taken and not trusting her to speak for herself. "Henry Perkins. I'm the baby's father."

Doctor Peters shook his hand enthusiastically. "I'm glad you're with us today, Henry. It's always good to have the father on hand."

They settled down in the examination room, Ruth climbing up on the table and Harry taking a seat just opposite her.

"I was sorry to miss the first scan, I was away on business." He was so smooth, was Harry; lying came as naturally to him as breathing. Ruth knew she had no right to hold that against him, though; she was as much a creature of the shadows as he.

"Well, you're here now. We're going to start off with a scan, and make sure that the baby is still doing well."

Ruth lifted her shirt and the scan began. For a moment she felt slightly self-conscious, laid out like that with Harry there to bear witness to her changing body, but then the sound of the peanut's heartbeat filled the room, and all her worries faded. She heard Harry's sharp intake of breath, and fought back a little smile. The memory of the first time she'd heard that sound was still fresh in her own mind, and she didn't have to wonder what he was thinking. She knew exactly how he felt.

"Everything looks good in there," Doctor Peters declared after a few moments during which Harry had sat spellbound, staring at the screen, and Ruth had laid back, staring at him, watching the flicker of emotion on his dear, sweet face. She felt safer, somehow, with him there beside her. As long as Harry was there, she was going to be ok.

"I'm going to apply a local anesthetic, Louisa, and then we're going to start the procedure."

Ruth's heart rate doubled, as she prepared herself for what was to come, and she reached out all unthinking, taking Harry's hand in her own. He offered comfort without complaint, giving her hand a little squeeze.

It was all over rather quickly; a big needle, a dull sting, and then they were done, and through it all, the peanut was fine. Ruth took her first proper breath since entering the examination room when Doctor Peters told her they were finished.

"It will be a few days before we have the results back. Once we have them, we'll be able to confirm the gender, as well as the baby's overall health."

"Thank you," Ruth said earnestly. She was still holding Harry's hand, but she found she really didn't want to let him go.