Harry relaxed a bit while they sat in the pub in the middle of nowhere in Hampshire. He was disappointed in the turn that things had taken. On the one hand, yes, it was foolish of him to suggest that they get married today. But he had proposed to her with just as little thought and preparation. Perhaps that was unfair, though. He'd not really planned it, no, but he certainly wanted to marry her. And today the moment just felt so right to him, as though it were meant to be, the two of them out on a drive together and enjoying the day together.

But of course, Ruth was right. They couldn't just to get married for the sake of it. That wasn't how they should be married, hidden away with strangers for witnesses. If they were going to have a life together, they had to do it properly. Ruth had cautioned him before, when he'd wanted to resign and retire, that they had forfeited a quiet, simple life. They'd already hidden their engagement for too long, and he'd hated that. How much worse would it feel to show up on the Grid or having dinner with Malcolm and already be married without giving anyone any warning? They didn't have a lot of friends, but the ones they did have deserved better.

It was just that Harry wanted so much to be married to her already. These last months of being engaged were wonderful. Getting to be with her, getting to love her, it was all wonderful. Lately, though, something seemed to shift. Infinitesimally, but enough for Harry to start to notice. He was starting to get the sense that Ruth was perhaps pulling away, like she was going to turn to sand and slip through his fingers. He couldn't bear the idea of it, and as he felt her pull away, his instinct—which was probably incorrect—was to cling to her all the more.

"Are you still thinking about the Israelis?" she asked, breaking their comfortable silence. They'd nearly finished their pints but hadn't spoken much since they'd stopped kissing each other. Harry had been lost in thought, wondering what he was supposed to say to her now. She'd taken the worry from him by starting the conversation herself.

"I wasn't," he replied. "But I suppose I am now. Are you thinking about the Israelis?" he asked her in return.

She hummed. "I remember something from Levi Cohen's file, I think. Did something happen to his daughter?"

Harry nodded. "Anna was in the army and taken by a Palestinian fringe group while Levi was Defense Minister. She was held captive for fourteen months."

"He wouldn't retaliate in order to rescue her." Ruth made the statement, not needing to ask a question to which she knew the answer.

"It was 2001. It was a volatile time," Harry reminded her.

"Do you think Levi was right to do as he did?"

Harry gave a curt nod without hesitation. "I know he was. At the time, it was all he could do."

"Would you have done the same thing?"

Ruth was getting to the heart of it now, and Harry knew it. That's what she really wanted to ask. He told her, "If I were the Israeli Defense Minister and I had the choice of a military operation to save my daughter that would ensure chaos and retaliation or leaving her to her captors, I'd have done the same thing, yes."

She nodded, satisfied with that answer.

But Harry wasn't quite finished. There was more explanation to give. "But that was then. And in that context. The man I was in 2001 versus the man I am now…"

Ruth frowned. "How do you mean?"

"Well, we met in what, 2003? I think you know as well as anyone—better than anyone—that I'm not that man anymore."

"When it comes to work, you are," she pointed out.

He grimaced slightly. "I'm not entirely sure. I weigh the consequences differently than I used to. And," he continued, "Anna Cohen was army-trained. My own daughter certainly isn't. It would be harder to leave her there, knowing she's only a civilian in the way that Anna is not."

"So if it wasn't Catherine, if it was someone else, someone with training…"

Harry glared at her. "I don't like the turn of this conversation. But if I get your meaning, Ruth, I'd never leave you to be kidnapped. I'd do whatever it took to rescue you and make sure you're safe."

Ruth's face fell. There was a flicker of something in her eyes that almost looked like fear. But it was only a flicker, and then it went away. "I hope you wouldn't sacrifice all the good work we do just to save me." She tried to inject some levity, but it came up flat.

He reached out and took her hand. "I would do anything to save you, Ruth," he vowed quietly.

She took her hand back. "Don't say that."

Harry felt himself turn cold. She pulled away. She pulled away, and he couldn't pull her back. Well, actually, maybe he could. "You have no idea, do you?" he began softly, the thoughts forming in his mind as he spoke them aloud.

"No idea about what?" she asked, frowning again.

He searched her eyes as he told her earnestly, "How important you are. Not just to me, but to everyone. Everyone who knows you, everyone who benefits from your brilliant mind. Which is everyone in the world, I think."

Ruth blushed, trying not to smile. "I'm just one person, Harry. I'm a clever analyst, I know, but I'm just an analyst at the end of the day."

"Maybe," he conceded. "But you're still brilliant, and I love you more than words."

"That's very sweet of you to say."

"I mean every word."

"I know you do," she said quietly.

He gave her a gentle smile. "Now, how about we get out of here? I think I'd like to tell you more things that aren't fit for public." He felt that pull again. The way she seemed to shy from him and the way it made him desperate to grab tighter hold of her.

Ruth grinned, hopefully not noticing the anxious feeling that accompanied his flirtatious words. "Yes, alright," she agreed. "But behave yourself until we get home."

"My home or yours?"

"Yours, I think. I've got a feeling we don't want to be a bother to Beth if she's around."

Harry helped her with her coat, and they made their way back to the car for the long drive back to London. "How are things going with Beth?" he asked as they got themselves settled.

"Well, I think," Ruth answered. "We've become friends. Or however someone like her and someone like me can be considered friends. We watch movies together and drink wine. She made me watch Spice World last night, actually. It was ridiculous but quite a bit of fun."

"Is that the film about the Spice Girls?" Harry asked incredulously.

Ruth laughed, "How do you know about that?"

"Catherine loved the Spice Girls. She talked about that film nonstop. I think she saw it in the cinema about twelve times."

"Did you ever go with her?" she asked.

"No, she was nearly off to university by then. She didn't like me at all, and the weekends she and Graham had with me where torturous for her. She would often make plans with her friends when she was staying with me so she could leave."

"I'll be Levi Cohen had the same problem."

"Well, he does now. Anna hates him. I don't suppose any of us can blame her for that. And if she's involved in these peace talks—if they ever do happen—then it will be a tense side of the room with the Israelis," Harry said darkly. The teasing fun about the Spice Girls was done.

"I know you wanted to take a drive and forget about all of this. I'm sorry I brought it up again," Ruth ventured quietly.

"As much as we might want it to, it won't just go away," he replied.

She sighed, shifting herself in the passenger seat as the M3 stretched out before them once more. "I want to help make you feel better, but I'm afraid I don't think I've got any more hope about the situation than you do."

"Well, just being here with you is enough to make me feel a bit hopeful."

Ruth rested her hand on top of his on the gearshift. He smiled.