And now we reach the final chapter. Given the length of time it's taken me to write this story I really must thank my regular readers for their patience in sticking with it and for the kind reviews.

Harry's bombshell question was productive of some varied responses. The PC personally nominated protector's jaw was struggling not to drop. While his eyes maintained a degree of alarm, his retention of a combative stance implied a lingering tinge of skepticism. Ruth was blushing, although from the expression in her eyes it was difficult to tell whether she was gratified by this proposal, or embarrassed by its very public nature. Harry, although he had not intended to pose what should have been a private question in front of an audience, was enjoying himself hugely. Given the ongoing acrimony between Thames House and New Scotland Yard it was deeply gratifying to wrong foot the self important twat who had had the temerity to imply that he, Harry, was a danger to Ruth. The only breathing entity to remain unmoved by the circumstances was Fidget, whose yowls demanding freedom were reaching a very unmusical crescendo, while the cat carrier seemed to be acquiring a life of its own as he struggled for release.

After few moments PC Plod in an apology that his tone didn't quite manage to endorse said, "I seem to have made an error." Turning again to Ruth as he asked, "Are you..." Ruth, finally rediscovering her vocal cords, managed to stutter "Y…Yes it's okay…" Still not wholly convinced and not over awed by Harry's well dressed public school demeanour Mark, while turning to depart, reminded her, "You know where I am if you need me". Harry, concealing his sense of offence, defended himself via an irritating utilisation of the Pearce charm as he smiled, "Thank you anyway – It's reassuring to know that Ruth has such caring neighbours." As Mark trudged up the stairs against the back drop of Fidget's continuing protests Harry commented to Ruth, "I think that animal need some attention before the your neighbours follow up with a call to the RSPCA crash team."

Waiting while Ruth fumbled in depths of her handbag he finally lost patience, "Allow me", as he removed a picklock from his pocket and opened up the door for her, "I think we need to attend to your security." His audacity making her glare, "The biggest threat seems to be you." Waiting until she picked up the cat carrier he ushered her across her own door step with a proprietorial air that made her want to hit him.

Really he'd made no effort to talk to her in the Grid, other than on work related matters, arrived at her flat without warning, proposed in public, and now was standing in her small hallway exuding an air of possession. Bloody man….just as she was opening her mouth to tear him to flinders an extra loud meow from Fidget reminded her of more immediate matters. Putting him down and unlocking the carrier her pet shot out to view his surroundings, turning his green eyes onto Harry. After one apprising stare, if a cat could be said to sneer, Fidget turned his back and with his tail held high stalked off into Ruth's kitchen, pausing at the door for one final hiss before he disappeared from view. His mistress with a look of dismay turned to Harry, 'Oh dear I forgot he needs to be fed."

While Harry supposed he should applaud her as a responsible pet owner he was a tad miffed that the creature's creature comforts were being considered before his own – there again always one to seize an opportunity he advised her, "Fine – you tend to whatishis name."

"Fidget "

"And I'll ring for a carry out – er Chinese or Indian?"

After a few seconds thought Ruth suggested, "I'll ring for a Chinese, you can feed Fidget, it might make him realise that you aren't a threat."

Frustrated by her lack of response to his proposal Harry's desire to advance his relationship with Ruth superseded his increasing animosity towards her cat. He supposed if they were to become a couple he'd have to tolerate the beast. Ruth must have sensed this as she added, "As you said earlier he'll probably get used to you. He's quite lovable really." A statement whose sliver of hope meant that Harry moved into the kitchen with a purposeful tread, pursed by Ruth's calling out, "Tins of cat food are in the bottom left cupboard."

Locating the said tins under the hostile glare of Fidget Harry was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Ruth, like most pet owners, was plainly besotted. As he spooned out the food he reflected that he'd have to keep stumm regarding his own opinion of Fidget. Namely that the only way he could envisage loving this ghastly furball would be after its transformation into a pair of fur lined gloves or possibly a fur hat against his ever having to revisit Russia. On balance he thought even Ilya Gavrik would give him a warmer welcome than this obnoxious feline. Moving away from the feeding bowl as Fidget pounced Harry, having obeyed his orders, escaped back into Ruth's sitting room.

As luck would have it he arrived there just as the doorbell rang. Beating Ruth to the door he received the contents of a substantial Chinese meal, paying off the courier, to be greeted, once they were private again, by Ruth's protesting

"Harry you didn't have to .."

"Yes I did. I'm hungry and I don't suppose you've eaten either." Ruth opened her mouth to argue, but was prevented by Fidget reappearing to twine himself around Ruth's legs, while emitting a loud disapproving mew in Harry's direction.

"Oh good Harry, he's beginning to recognise you". Harry chose not to reply as he busied himself unpacking the various contents of the carrier bag containing their meal, while Fidget continued to stalk around, watching Harry with all the affection of a tiger eyeing up its prey. Ruth thankfully decided that, "Hmm I think the smell of food is making him a little difficult', as she coaxed Fidget back into the kitchen 'there's a good boy." For that relief Harry was sending up thanks. Many years ago, when waiting for a late running train he'd dived for warmth into the station bookshop, where as a feint he'd browsed through a book entitled, '100 Things to do with a Dead Cat'. At the time he thought it had displayed a certain lack of taste, now he concluded it had been the product of common sense. Not an opinion he intended share with Ruth.

Of course what he was longing to share with Ruth was the rest of his life, even if it did include bloody Fidget, and now some thirty minutes plus after his blurted out proposal he was still waiting for her answer. Impatience suggested that he pressed her now for a reply, but the smell of the food and the prospect of arguing over crispy duck, noodles and chow mein when they were both hungry dictated delay. He was disturbed from his reverie by the sound of Ruth's voice, "Penny for them?"

"Sorry Ruth," Thinking quickly, 'Any wine to go with this?" In reply Ruth held up a bottle of white, which he assumed had been stored in her fridge.

Wine poured, food portioned between them they sat down, both looking slightly awkward, Harry wishing she'd reply to his offer of marriage, Ruth wondering why he hadn't raised the question again, pondering the likelihood that he was now regretting a suggestion arising from his being cornered. Neither willing to say what was troubling them. Not daring to speak, the only sounds were occasional meow from Fidget bashing himself against the kitchen door in an attempt to escape.

Harry was beginning to feel increasingly exasperated with the total lack of response to his question, his impatience warring with caution. For a man who was afraid of very little he was terrified that she might reject him. Karma possibly, considering all the previous relationships he'd walked away from in preference to making the commitments that remaining would have required, and now….he noted that Ruth was clearing her throat as he jerked back into the present.

"Er... Harry sorry it occurs to me that you might have needed chopsticks and I don't have any."

"That's okay, knife and fork will do, so shall we?

Ruth having essayed some speech as an ice breaker and now sitting opposite him wasn't sure what he expected from her. He still hadn't raised the matter of his doorstep proposal. Clearly he hadn't been serious, so did she take him to task for making a mockery of her or just ignore it?

Both found themselves sitting in a silence of uncertainty. Even Fidget was now quiet, until Ruth finally forced herself to enquire.

"Harry why did you come here tonight?"

Harry could hardly believe that she'd asked that. Hadn't he made his intentions crystal clear?"

Swallowing down his mouthful of crispy duck he managed to adopt as even a tone as he could muster,

"I thought I'd told you and I would appreciate an answer. Adding unwisely, "When you can be bothered to do so."

Ruth's hackles went up instantly, "Considering that you completely ignore me at work and then turn up on my doorstep mocking me in front of my neighbours…"

Before she could continue the theme Harry intervened, "I hardly think a proposal of marriage counts as mockery."

Ruth shot back instantly, "It does when it's not serious."

Infuriated as he was Harry retained enough control to pick out her grievance. Exerting a patience which those who had the misfortune to come across the full force of the Pearce temper would have appreciated - had they been left alive to do so – he managed inform her, "First of all I'm not mocking you, secondly if I was making a joke and you accepted I'd be lumbered for life."

Ruth of course picked up the final part of his sentence first, "You don't get sued for breach of promise these days Harry."

Harry sighed, "I'm still waiting for your answer. And the reason I've not been approaching you at work is because I can do without everyone wondering…."

"They'd do that if we were married Harry."

"Probably but it would cease to be a continual source of gossip."

Ruth mulled his words over, there was much in what he said. She might have been grateful for the trick that the team had played on them at Havensworth, but to have everyone on the Grid eyeing them up on a daily 'Are they, aren't they tonight,' was a wince making prospect.

Harry must have seen the uncertainty in her face as he said gently, "I won't pressurise you. Think it over but do know this that despite my…. er… reputation…. I have never ever asked any other woman to marry me."

Standing up he began to gather the dishes together, "I'll help you clear up and then I'll go." Ruth stared at him, "You could stay if you wanted to."

Harry shook his head, "I would like to but that might complicate matters – you really need to think clearly."

As he uttered those words he supposed that if she had to think about it the answer should be no. With most women that would settle the matter, but Ruth was not most women, she was a top class analyst and inevitably carried her job skills into her personal life. Until she'd considered the prospect of marriage from every angle he'd have to wait. The only drawback he could perceive for himself, other than office gossip from which they would suffer from whatever her decision, was that he'd acquire the unlovely Pete as his brother in law. Although Harry was quite accustomed to dealing with unwanted individuals Ruth would almost certainly attribute any accident befalling that apology for a man to Harry's machinations.

Further contemplation was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. Hauling it out of his pocket, while biting back a groan he looked at the caller name and then mouthed to Ruth, "Ros."

"Hello Ros….very well… I'm so sorry." Finishing the call he saw Ruth staring anxiously at his face.

"Ros's father died about three hours ago….unfortunately the family still blame Ros for not supporting him and for causing the subsequent cancer."

Ruth after a couple of seconds thought asked,"So she's on her own?"

"Yes – I suppose I should.." Despite his anxiety about Ros he was cursing the timing - how, after the conversation they'd just, had would Ruth react to his going to comfort another very attractive woman. It wasn't that he had ever considered Ros in a romantic light but he could see how it might just look ...

"No suppose about it Harry – I know you regard the team as surrogate family so…"

Exhaling with relief he replied,"Thanks for understanding Ruth. I'll head over to see her and …"

"No Harry we'll go together. Just let me find another bottle of wine."

A few minutes later they were both pulling on coats as Harry said, "Thanks for this. I'm not very good at the pastoral side…."

"I don't agree." Noting Harry's surprised expression she elaborated – you've taken very good care of me from the moment we met, and I've read the files on other staff including Tom Quinn and Jed and the efforts you made to help them in various ways." Pulling her front door shut she smiled up at him. "And Harry I know it might seem a little old fashioned but my preference is for a church."

Harry's heart was leaping with disbelief, "Seriously."

"Seriously. I suppose someone has to make an honest man out of you."

As Ruth went ahead of him Harry, following her down the stairs, was quietly smiling to himself as he made the mental tick. 'Mission Accomplished."

Sorry if this wasn't the most romantic of endings but I find hearts and flowers impossible to write. Thanks for reading anyway. By the way I didn't make up the book title it really was published several years ago.

I do have another story in mind but as it touches on matters relating to Russia (not set there I should say) I'm not sure it would be in the best of taste to produce it at present given current events.