Lucien sat at the piano in his father's house. His house. It was his house and his home, and he knew that, but whenever he felt lost or upset, his mind reverted back to thinking of it at his father's house.

The house was empty. Mattie had left the day before to spend some time in Melbourne with her parents. Charlie was busy with Lester Carr. And Lucien was here, alone, at the piano. Jean was upstairs in her room, so the house wasn't really empty. But not having her flitting about doing a million things with the grace of a dancer made him feel alone.

Strange, that he should come to expect and cherish her presence now. When he had first arrived to discover his father's housekeeper, the reality of her presence had annoyed him to no end. But then, of course, Lucien had gone and fallen in love with Jean Beazley. And now he missed her whenever she was not within his sight.

As he plunked out a melody on the piano, Lucien drifted back to that afternoon. He and Ruth standing in the office. Carr walking in and threatening them with a gun. Harry distracting Carr to keep the gun away from Ruth. And when the gun went off, Harry had not hesitated to protect Jean. He'd pushed her down and covered her with his own body. But he hadn't been quick enough.

The absolute terror Lucien had felt, seeing Carr turn from him and Ruth and point the gun at Harry and Jean instead. Seeing her in danger like that had made Lucien nearly sick to his stomach. Thank god Harry had the good sense to protect her, to make sure she was safe. Lucien would have done the same thing for Ruth, he knew. Harry knew that, too, surely. The two of them had come to something of an understanding that morning, before the violent chaos threatened them all. But Jean was safe and unharmed, and that was all that mattered to Lucien in that moment.

Lucien had tackled Carr to the ground and knocked the gun out of his hands. Ruth picked it up and pointed it at Carr until the police answered her call. Lucien should not have been surprised, knowing Ruth's background, but there was something strangely wonderful about seeing an attractive woman holding a gun while talking on the phone.

Lawson arrived with Charlie to arrest Carr, and the ambos were right behind them.

Once everything was taken care of, Lucien drove Jean home. She was badly shaken from the whole experience. She was not a stranger to such precarious circumstances, but this time was quite different. She had held a gun to save Lucien's life. As far as Lucien knew, Jean had not, until today, had a gun go off in her direction.

Jean had not spoken a single word the whole drive home, though Lucien had not pressed. And when they arrived at the house, she went right upstairs and shut the door of her bedroom behind her. Lucien wondered, now, whether he should go up and check on her. He did not wish to pry, did not want to push her in any way. But her silence and isolation worried him. He wanted more than anything to be with her, to hold her and promise to protect her better next time, to do whatever he could to make her feel happy and safe and loved. It was all he wanted. It was all he'd wanted for a long time.

But instead, Lucien just sat at the piano, playing his sad, lonely tune.

"That was really stupid of you," Ruth said.

Harry winced in pain. "I wasn't thinking."

"Yes, I know," she said, a bit more gently this time.

They were sitting together on the bed of Harry's hotel room. The emergency medical team she'd called for had done a good job patching up the bullet wound. Harry had heroically protected Jean from being shot, but his years were catching up to him, and he'd been grazed in the arm by Carr's shot.

It was certainly not the first time Harry had been shot. Not even the first time he'd been shot since knowing Ruth. But she hated the very idea of it. When Tom Quinn had shot Harry in the shoulder, she had sobbed hysterically upon receiving the news. Malcolm had to escort her out of the office so she could calm down and not make a scene. This time, she had been better able to control herself. This time she had seen him sit up and grab his arm and swear in pain but be otherwise alert and relatively fine. This time, she knew he would be alright.

Lawson had been kind enough to give them a ride back to the hotel once Harry had been bandaged up. Ruth had come to check on him after she'd taken a bath and calmed herself down, only to find that Harry had stupidly tried to shower and forgotten that he wasn't supposed to get the bandages wet. And so here she was, rebandaging his arm.

"You scared me today," Ruth told him softly, keeping her eyes focused on his arm and not at his face, which was pointed towards hers.

"You scared me, too," Harry replied.

She furrowed her brow, still not looking at him. "How did I scare you?"

"I don't like seeing a gun pointed at you, Ruth. And you were taunting that man."

"I was getting a confession," she reminded him.

Harry sighed in slight exasperation. "Yes, I know you were. You did a bloody good job. I don't doubt that you have a good purpose whenever you do anything, Ruth, but you must understand what it does to me to see you in danger. After everything, you know I can't handle it."

"Yes, you can," she countered. "You always handle it. I've been in danger loads of times."

"And I've let people die and I've committed treason to save you," he growled.

Ruth fell silent at that. He was right, of course. He did not handle it well when she was in danger. He did stupid, heroic things. He would burn the world for her sake, she knew. And she had always hated him for it.

Harry lifted the hand on his uninjured arm and tilted her chin up so she'd look at him. "Ruth, I would do anything to save you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Harry, I do," she answered, trying in vain to keep tears from forming in her eyes. "But you can't keep putting yourself in these positions. Our work is too dangerous. I will be in danger sometimes. And you've got more important things to worry about."

"You are the most important thing in the world to me, Ruth," Harry interjected.

A lump formed in her throat. And if she weren't trying to tie off the bandage on his arm, Ruth may have run from the room to escape where this conversation was going. She swallowed hard, averting her eyes from his again. She remembered Jean's words, telling her to hold tight to love and happiness wherever she could find it. And Ruth quietly confessed, "And you are the most important thing in the world to me, Harry." She looked back up at him, blinking back tears again. "And so you've got to stop taking risks to try and protect me. I can't have anything happen to you on my account. I would give anything for you. You know that."

"Do I?"

"Of course you do."

"Why, Ruth?" he asked, shifting where he sat as soon as his bandage was finished. "Why would you sacrifice anything for my sake?"

He was pushing her to say the thing she'd been too afraid to ever say out loud. She'd admitted the truth of her heart to Jean, but she had never actually said the words. "Because I love you."

The next thing Ruth knew, she was lying in Harry's arms as he held her tight and kissed her.