"Harry ….stop."
He didn't want to stop.
"Please…Harry!"
He stopped.
His head lifted from her chest, his expression disappointed and confused.
For a moment she seriously considered telling him to just carry on. But no.
"Harry, the last time this happened…"
"Mmm," came a resonant rumble as his lips refound her skin.
"Harry!"
"Sorry," he said sheepishly.
"The last time this happened, the following morning you told me something terrible. And I have a horrible feeling tomorrow will be no different."
He looked away, the smile gone.
"I'm right, aren't I?"
He lay back beside her.
"Tell me, please."
He hesitated.
"I'm dead, Ruth."
"What?" she sat up, alarmed.
"That's why I was delayed, I had to call some old associates, they helped me fix things. As far as Five know I will be reported dead in the next few days."
She stared at him.
"I can't go back, Ruth. I can't go home."
She lay back and the two stared at the ceiling. It was a much nicer ceiling than in Moscow, with intact plaster, fresh paint and cornices.
"When you get back will you tell Catherine I'm okay, I couldn't bear for her not to know."
"No, I will not!"
Harry pondered the fact that all he managed to do these days was either make her angry or gasp with pleasure.
She sat up again, infuriated.
"What am I? What is this, some way of breaking bad news? Instead of a cigarette afterwards you just land bloody bombshells!"
"But you know I can't go back, there'll be questions asked and I still don't know how much Alena's associates knew. If I'm there they will go after me and try and out the secret and then we are back to square one. No Section D, no respect, a total disaster for the security services."
"Fine then tell me all this before, not after!"
"If I told you before then we may not get to the after."
"And you're so desperate for a shag you have to lie to me."
"No, I'm so desperate for you that everything else doesn't seem to matter, Ruth."
She conceded to herself that this was a good answer.
"Well, I can't tell Catherine," she muttered huffily.
"Why not?" he asked sadly.
"Because I'm not going back either."
"Don't be ridiculous, this can't ruin both our lives."
"Oh, shut up, Harry! I've been dead before, I know what it's like, you don't. And if you're going, I'm going. Besides which the only thing that will ruin my life is going back without you."
She folded her arms against her chest defiantly.
Harry's face remained serious, "you really are a stubborn old mule, aren't you?"
"Yes, I bloody well am," she snapped, "now where shall we live?"
"Are you sure, Ruth?"
The glare he received in response persuaded him to ask no more.
"Well, I have somewhere that I bought, years ago, untraceable to me, worth a reasonable amount now. But it's a long way away."
"Right that'll do," she said and lay back down, "Is there anything else of great import you need to tell me, or is that it?"
"That's it."
"Good, now I seem to remember you were occupying yourself with my birthmark," she said with one eyebrow raised, unfolding her arms.
Harry looked at her, always astounded by this woman that he loved so much.
"Do you need a second invitation Harry?"she smiled.
He most certainly did not.
Okay, methinks this is the end, though I may be persuaded to write an epilogue, if anyone fancies one?