Finally managed to get this one more or less publishable. Thanks to my readers for their patience, especially to those who reviewed.

As the official black limousine drew up outside Ruth's flat Harry was speculating as to her mood when she finally emerged, handed over her luggage and then took her place beside him. Much as he had longed to engineer an opportunity to be alone with her, in the hope that they could finally thrash out their differences, this situation was a country mile away from his ideal scenario. Firstly they would not actually be alone, and while Harry could place every reliance on the discretion of his regular driver, today, for verisimilitude, he had been forced to accept a substitute from the foreign office corps de gossip. Secondly it was only yesterday when to avoid a full blown row with her he had, through sheer necessity, been obliged to revert into full on boss mode when confronted by her stubborn insistence that she could make her own way to Havensworth.

"Miss Evershed you are required to adopt the undercover guise as my PA in what is supposed to be an official delegation to support important individuals. Arriving separately has the potential blow to the entire operation from the outset."

While a temporarily muted Ruth has ceased to protest against this inarguable statement ,Harry strongly suspected that as she stormed out of his office she'd been muttering under breath comments about his parentage for the umpteenth time. It was a routine he was beginning to find wearisome. Sometimes, and ever more frequently of late, he'd debated with himself as to whether he had been wise to refuse her request for a transfer followed by the reminder that his denial of the same had not been on personal grounds, his motive having been based on the professional assessment that her expertise was necessary to the Grid. And anyway just occasionally he'd caught her snatching a glance towards his office. A glance in which he discerned the vaguest hint of longing – or was he just fooling himself? Probably but…..

Fortunately for Harry's sanity this circular speculation was interrupted by Ruth slamming her front door, a sound that had acted as an alarm call to the driver, who'd promptly exited the vehicle and was now making his way across the tarmac to scoop up a substantial amount of luggage. A mini mountain that made Harry, who was well acquainted with Ruth's leisure requirements, wonder how many books had been secreted amongst the underwear, and was there a chance that she'd come accompanied by 'Persuasion' rather than 'Pride and Prejudice' or better still 'Emma' where the heroine completely misunderstood the nature of the hero's affections. Or such was his interpretation from his recent reading of the novels. A pastime adopted with the hope of currying some future favours from Madam Mule.

Ruth, having indicated the bags via a casual wave of her hand, made her own way towards the car. Foot steady, face set, she took her place beside Harry, temporarily ignoring his 'Good morning Ruth' as she strapped herself in. Having finally received a chilly nod of acknowledgement Harry pondered whether he should make any comment regarding her outfit. An ensemble that consisted of a smart business suit in a navy blue whose severe cut somehow managed to emphasise her curves, the pencil skirt revealing to the world the shapely legs normally hidden behind Ruth's customary longer garments. Not that Harry needed any reminder of that fact while recognising that Fiona Carter had done her work well. The teaming Ruth's skirt and jacket with a blouse of a blue that picked up the colour of her eyes, combined with an immaculately made up face, was giving him thoughts that were definitely unprofessional. Deciding that he had to say something to break the ice in more than one direction he settled on

"You certainly look the part Ruth."

"You did imply that failure to do so would lead to operation being aborted."

A reply that Harry decided not to respond to other than to make a warning nod towards the driver. Ruth swallowed down any further statement. Furious with herself in trying to score a point against Harry she'd temporarily forgotten that they were on a form of secondment to a different part of the civil service. Harry seeing her chastened tried again,

"Ruth can you give me the heads up as regards Aaisha?

"Surely you've read the file!," came the waspish reply

"Of course I have, but it only gives an outline, not the essence?"

Noticing her brow wrinkle he clarified, "Your file told me that you were highly intelligent, it gave me your life history and even contained a recognisable photograph, but it didn't really tell me what you laugh at, how much you read, how you deal with personal interactions." As he uttered those last words he realised that given the nature of his very personal interactions with Ruth he'd left himself wide open to some caustic comment.

The expected hissy reaction failed to materialise. Inadvertently the substance of his statement had appealed to Ruth the analyst with sufficient force to make her row back from any retort along the lines of, 'Well you should know all about personal interactions'" in favour of rifling her memory for any Intel that might help. Not least because her long lost friend stood in the direct line of any potential damage created by a misogynist who regarded women as chess pieces.

Harry, happy to have capped off the acrimony for a few minutes at least, was now leaning back into the well padded cushions watching from the corner of his eye the various expressions washing across her face until a sigh indicated that she was ready to pronounce,

"As you know from her profile Aaisha has been involved with various causes currently described as trendy." Seeing Harry nod she continued in defence of her friend, "That is unfair, she was involved in various groups regarding women's rights, education for all and sustainable living well before they were so strongly on the general radar, but and this is important Harry, she is not a fanatic, she'll know any changes introduced into Ali's homeland have to be incremental. "

Given the pause Harry suspected that she was waiting for a comment, so much as he was relishing her enthusiasm he felt forced to utter a damper, "That won't endear her to uncle. All he'll see is an interfering woman who has calculated on catching and then manipulating a husband with power."

The reply was angry, "So unfair, and in case you were wondering Aaisha is not a gold digger, her father left his two children - as you also know from the file she has a brother - quite enough to manage on."

"Ruth don't get cross with me – I'm very willing to accept your judgment on this."

Music to his ears when for the first time in months Ruth uttered an apology for fury, "Sorry Harry it's just…."

"I know, and that is why you are so valuable on this operation." Privately Harry was inclined to consider that even if the yet to be met Aaisha was not a gold digger, she would be a very unusual woman if she felt overly distressed at the prospect of marrying a rich suitor. Now was not the time to remind Ruth of Ros' statement that the only person to arrange this forthcoming marriage was Aaisha. For someone who was usually so astute Ruth could be startlingly naïve on occasions.

Aware that Ruth was fixing him with a gaze that was practically ordering him to comment, his efforts to muster a tactful reply that would not offend her, while avoiding a statement that might rebound to produce further argument, were halted by the sound of his mobile. Excusing himself with a, "Sorry Ruth but it's Ros," he pressed to take the call, noting from her expression that this was not a statement calculated to assuage her unjustified but incipient jealousy.

Ruth as she listened to the one sided of the conversation was struggling to make sense of it. "Oh has he – thanks for letting me know. And the arrangement or rather re-arrangements?" Followed by a further, "That sounds satisfactory – have you contacted Dolby? Yes if you could," After a few more seconds, "ETA about half an hour."

Having killed the call Harry turned into the searchlight of Ruth's questioning look. Aware that so far all their conversation – if you could call it that - had been initiated by himself he decided to test whether curiosity would overcome the cold shoulder, guessing that the analyst would overcome the virago tendency. He was right. After a clear pause Ruth more or less demanded, "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Don't play games with me Harry, what has happened to affect the operation?"

While Harry could think of several games he would like to play with Ruth, mainly of the X rated variety, having scored a hit in making her ask, he swapped smirk for smile, "An extra arrival – Uncle invited himself to support Ali, now Aaisha's brother has arrived unexpectedly to support Aaisha – he says as their father is deceased it falls to him to give her away."

Ruth shook her head, "I thought he was in America – he must have come over as soon as he knew what was happening."

"Have you met him?"

"Oh yes. He's just a couple of years older than Aaisha, so was at Oxford for some of the same time." Having sensed just a touch of the green eye underlying Harry's query Ruth added thoughtfully, "He's very handsome as well as being affluent." Deliberately failing to mention that he was also just a little too smooth for her taste. Harry had cheated on her with Jane so it was his turn to stew.

"Is he likely to approve of the choice?"

"I would think so, and if uncle decides to cause trouble …."

She didn't need to complete the sentence, she'd said enough to make Harry feel that he would be very relieved when the operation was closed. The only possible advantage being that he and Ruth would be in close proximity for those few days, but unfortunately professional considerations would have to be paramount, nor did he really want to expose either of them to a public courtship. The regular members of Section D, although excellent spies, had proved to be completely hopeless when attempting to conceal their curiosity regarding his relationship with Ruth

Since neither had any further conversation silence cloaked the rest of the journey as the roads of London gradually gave way to the leafy green of the surrounding countryside, finally reaching the long sweep of the drive to the hotel entrance. As the car slowed up Harry noticed that Ruth drew a deep breath indicative of nerves. His public pretence that there was nothing between them other than superior and subordinate was temporarily shelved. In a snatched moment as their chaffeur emerged to walk around the front of the car as preliminary to opening her door Harry placed his hand over hers squeezing her fingers with the lightest of touches as he whispered, "Don't worry Ruth – you'll be fine." For a brief moment he noted a flicker of something in those expressive eyes and a slight parting of her very kissable lips, but before she could reply a breeze of fresh air indicated that it was time for the spy in the peaked cap to hand her out. Harry hadn't been wrong, she'd seen something in his face that suggested genuine support and concern, but the disturbance meant that all she actually said was, "I hope so."

Any chance of further private words was lost. A reminder that the operation was kicking off signalled by the sight of Adam approaching in character as he prepared to transfer their bags from the car boot to the hotel. Before he could reach them he was pushed aside with a force that meant he nearly lost his balance. As Adam staggered, fighting to retain his balance, a woman in her late twenties clothed in a swirl of gold on blue embroidered draperies swung past him, rushing down the steps grabbing the just emerged Ruth in a hug while exclaiming breathlessly,

"Ruth of all people – I'm so glad to see you and guess what? Faizan has come, never told me he was planning that." Drawing breath before continuing, "And I can't wait to introduce you to Ali – I've told him all about our time together at Oxford – and…" Having suddenly caught sight of Harry standing beside the car, an amused smile decorating his face, "So sorry, just it's ages since ….you must be Ruth's …"

Harry stepping forward held out his hand employed his most mellifluous tones as he greeted her. "And you must be Aashia." Earning him a hard glare from Ruth, aware that he'd made the id from the file data and picture – although a quick moment of reflection made her realise he could hardly inform Aaisha, "You look just like your MI5 file photo." While Ruth was rearranging her face from irritation to pleased Harry was introducing himself, "Harry Pearce, attached to the Foreign Office."

Aaisha smiled, "I never thought Ruth would become a civil servant but do excuse us." Not that Harry had much choice as he watched Ruth was being towed up the steps as ruthlessly as her name suggested , leaving her just time to call back, "Do you need me Sir."

Every day and night would have been the correct answer, but Harry aware of the pressure of the operation opted for an alternative honesty, "You both need to catch up so take a couple of hours, after which I'd like to avail myself of your services in my room Ruth."

That was the truth. He'd have to settle for her analysis of whatever Aaisha had confided, combined with whatever Intel he managed to extract from the team already on site, rather than the services he really would like Ruth to volunteer for. Yet more one more personal sacrifice for the oblivious nation.

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