6:

"You're not running," Harry said, "but you also aren't giving any ground, either."

"Why are you pushing?" she demanded, a flash of anger in her eyes. "I need time to cope with all of this. I can't just – Harry, it isn't fair to ask me to marry you when I don't even know you anymore. It's been sixteen years and we only went on one date and –"

"Spent three weeks together," he interjected, feeling stung by her verbal slap. "We knew each other very well before those three weeks and – you're saying you don't –"

"Harry, I love you," she said, "but I need time to remember who you are and not just think of you as the man I put up on a pedestal, unattainable forever. Do you get it? I spent sixteen years thinking that I would never have you again."

He'd spent sixteen years trying to avoid the fact that he loved her so much that it was actually detrimental to his health. The first year had been unbearable, and he'd been like a wild animal whenever he wasn't being starched up for the politicians, wounded and aching with the pain of it all. Five years in, he was able to function, but he was still drinking heavily. Ten years in, and everything changed – Lucy had been born, his priorities had shifted, and life began anew.

Now… everything was flooding back to him in waves of emotion that threatened to drag him under and hold him there. That horrific dependence on her love, the removal of said love, the – dear god, how had he not gone mad with this in the first place?

"I spent those years wondering if you even thought about me," Harry whispered.

"Every moment," she said. "I knew you would drink too much and throw things and fight with people because I wasn't there. I know it was like… like I really died, Harry. I always thought of you as my dead husband and no one was ever going to touch you."

"I might yet be your husband, Ruth, but I'm hardly dead yet," he scoffed bitterly.

"You might as well have been." Her voice was quiet, sad.

He pulled her into his arms and sighed heavily. "I love you, damn it, and I want to protect you."

"Don't sound so happy about loving me," she muttered.

"You know that's not why I'm – damn it, Ruth, my name alone offers you protection." He pinched the bridge of his nose. She was giving him a headache; always the analyst, always looking for deeper meaning. "I don't suppose you know they made me a bloody Knight before they kicked me off the board."

"From what I hear, you jumped off the board," she countered. "And titles mean nothing."

"They won't touch you if you are attached to me," Harry grunted. "Otherwise, the possibility is for open season, Ruth, and no one wants that."

She looked at him for a long moment, then said, "You're not telling me something."

"Ruth, the things I'm not allowed to tell you would fill the Library of Alexandria a few times over," he said with a heavy sigh. "I wanted to marry you then, I want to marry you now. Even if we never have sex again, it's the least you deserve – you carried my child, you went to ground to save my unworthy backside… just let me repay you in the only way I can."

She was pale and shaking. "Do you not understand how much I want you, Harry?" she whispered. "Do you not get that I am trying to make rational decisions about the future of my family right now and you not telling me the truth – all of it – is… is going to be problematic."

"The truth is that they will separate us," Harry finally said. "The second you are back in the land of the living, you will be yanked back to London on a short leash, and marrying me is the only way to prevent that at this stage. You don't have much time – really, any time at all – to make up your mind."

"So I'll be exchanging one prison for another."

He almost laughed at the irony; his first marriage had been like being locked in a torture chamber for months on end with no relief in sight. "I'm not going to pretend my ego can stand that kind of assault, Ruth."

"No, I mean the… the… what's mine is yours and all that garbage."

"In this case, you'll be getting the better part of the bargain – and when I finally get blown up or shot to death, you'll have my pension and bank balance," he joked, trying to keep his tone light.

"Don't even joke," she whispered. "Don't even joke about that –"

"I almost died a few months ago," he pointed out.

She inhaled sharply and looked away. "You know, there were a thousand times I would have said yes without hesitation, to anything you might have asked. But now…"

"Now you have Hope to think about."

Ruth bit her lip and frowned. "She needs you, Harry. I need you."

"I need you," he whispered, laying the truth between them, naked and bare.

She looked up at him, eyes flashing with emotions he could not describe, fleeting and lovely. "Yes, Harry."

"Yes as in – yes? To the question –"

She nodded and murmured, "I'm tired. Can we please go to bed now?"

He nodded and smiled a little. "Why don't you go up and turn down the bed, and I'll be there in a few minutes," Harry suggested gently. "I need the loo."

She squeezed his hand and headed off. Harry looked around for his phone, finally finding it near the charger but not quite actually plugged in. He sent a quick, off-the-books text to Malcolm in code, then plugged his phone in and went upstairs slowly.

Ruth was waiting for him.

"Hope, Hope, Hope, you wanna shawe my ceweal?" Lucy asked excitedly as Hope came into the kitchen for breakfast. "Granpa makin' soldiers if you want toasties instead."

Harry chuckled. "What can I make you for breakfast, Hope?" he asked.

Hope bit her lip and said, "Is there any coffee?"

Her mother was at the end of the counter, fixing a couple mugs of coffee. "Almost ready, love," she said. "How did you sleep?"

Hope shook her head and mumbled, "Not so good."

"Do you want my teddy?" Lucy asked innocently.

Mary passed Hope a mug of coffee and said, "Your granola bars are in the cupboard if you're hungry." The coffee was mostly milk and sugar with just a little bit of coffee, but it made her feel better.

"I'm not really," Hope said.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," Harry chirped. Hope wanted to punch him in the nose.

"Harry," Mary said warningly.

Catherine came into the room and said, "Okay, yes, I'm running late – dad, don't forget I'm out tonight at a PTO function at Lucy's school." She paused long enough to grab a slice of toast before she was gone in a whirlwind.

"I guess that's my cue," Mary said, leaning over and giving Harry a quick peck on the cheek. "See you later." She reached over and ruffled Hope's hair. "As for you, sweetheart, get the coffee in you so we can go."

Hope muttered, "Are you two going to be like that all the time?"

"Like what?"

"Kissing and stuff."

Harry smirked. "I certainly hope so."

Hope sighed at looked at her mother. "Yeah, well –"

"Granpa, gotta get ready to go!" Lucy insisted. "Hewp me!"

Mary smiled over at Hope as Harry and Lucy left the room. "I love him," she said simply. "Even after all this time, Hope, I still love him."

"He's a total stranger."

"He's Harry," her mother said simply. "And it's time to re-do your hair, pumpkin."

Hope paused, then shook her head. "He doesn't want me to."

"You don't have to do everything Harry wants," Mary said, finishing her coffee. "In fact, it's far more fun if you ruffle his feathers and get him off-balance. What color do you want this time, darling girl?"

"Teal," Hope said with a smile. "And purple."

"That's my girl. Do you want to get the things on your way home and we'll do it tomorrow night?"

Hope nodded and smiled wider, finishing off her coffee. "Thanks, mom."

"I know that everything is very difficult and confusing right now," Mary said softly, "but I want you to know that, no matter what anyone else says, no matter what happens, I am thinking of you when I make decisions for us. Do you understand, sweetheart?"

Hope nodded and sighed. "I just… it's weird to see you like someone so much. You don't like anyone."

"Well… no one is quite like your father, dear heart," Mary murmured, blushing. "Come on, get your stuff – we're going to be late if you dawdle."

Harry's patience was wearing thin; he was tired of sitting and waiting. He was just about to check the landings schedule again to make certain that it hadn't deceived him when he saw two familiar faces walk into the shop. He waved, and they put in their drinks order, then came to join him.

"Michael, Janine, thank you for coming," he greeted with a huge smile. "I assume everything went to plan?"

"Very nearly," Jo said with a shake of the head. The barista called out their orders and Malcolm went to retrieve them. "There was a tiny sticking point on the passport and visa for Hope, but Ros overruled everyone and fixed it."

"Good old Ros," Harry said, nodding. He took a sip of his tea and asked, "What was the sticking point?"

Jo looked uncomfortable for a moment, then Malcolm sat down. "One iced mocha for the lady, and one coconut milk matcha latte for me," Malcolm said cheerfully. "Oh, sorry –"

"What was the sticking point?" Harry repeated.

"Her surname," Malcolm threw in casually. "Ros sorted it."

Harry nodded and sighed. "Of course, it should be Evershed –"

Jo snorted in an unladylike fashion. "Yeah, no, that's not what it is now," she said. "Ros decided since you were listed on the falsified birth certificate as the father in the first place, she should be Hope Henrietta Pearce."

Harry paused for a long moment. "Henrietta?" he said.

"You didn't know her middle name?" Malcolm asked.

Harry shook his head. "Ruth didn't volunteer that information."

"Onto happier topics," Jo said cheerfully. "Everything is done and dusted – Mary Smith is now Ruth Evershed, and Hope Henrietta Smith is now Hope Henrietta Pearce, with permanent resident US visas, in case Ruth decides she wants to resist the Five leash."

Harry nodded and sighed. "How long do we have until they want her back in the building?"

Malcolm's eyes twinkled. "We haven't exactly told anyone where she is, and Ros insisted we not log anything into the computer."

Relief coursed through Harry. "Because of –"

"Yeah, because of the thing," Jo said warningly. "Also, we're not here. And we're not here for a few days because there's another one we have to track down." She smiled. "Any chance of seeing her?"

"Why don't you come by for dinner tonight?" Harry invited. "Catherine would be glad to see you both, I'm sure."

"I assume you'll be inviting them?" Malcolm asked.

"We've rather a full house, but you're welcome to save the department some money and sleep on the sofabed in the living room," Harry invited. "Ruth and Hope moved in with us just the other day. It's… an adjustment."

"We've got accommodations," Malcolm said with a small smile. "But we would love to join you for dinner, wouldn't we, Janine?"

Jo rolled her eyes. "Do we need to bring anything? Bottle of wine or –"

"No, just yourselves," Harry replied.

Malcolm cleared his throat. "We need to get going – even by subway, Brooklyn is a ways away."

Harry nodded. "You know where I'm at, so just come about six-thirty or so," he said gruffly, taking the envelope from Jo. "Thank you both. I really don't know what I would do without friends like you."

"You'd still be looking for her," Malcolm teased, winking.

Harry felt a dark shadow cross his face. "Yes," he agreed. He threw away the rest of his tea – awful swill that it was – and headed out into the cold to pick Lucy up at preschool.

Hope helped Lucy set the table to Harry's specifications, and got the right number of glasses of water. "Harry, are there extra people coming?" she asked worriedly.

"Yes, but don't fret – they're friendly," Harry said, wiping his hands on his apron. "Now, where did that colander get to…?"

Mary came into the room and said, "Something certainly smells good in here."

"Granpa's makin' garwic chicken pasta," Lucy announced. "It's nummy."

"Hello," Harry said, smiling across the room.

Hope frowned; he unnerved her, like there was the nice teddy bear guy on the outside and something terrible and frightening beneath. She'd seen him angry, that night when she'd been assaulted, and it scared her. She didn't know why her mom loved him so much, and that worried her more.

"Hello," Mary greeted with a shy smile and a blush. "Hope, did you get the stuff for your hair?" she asked.

Hope nodded. "Yeah – we can do it tomorrow."

"Pink again?" Harry asked.

Hope hesitated, then shook her head. "Teal and purple," she said.

Harry raised an eyebrow, then sighed. "Well, do what you must, but I'm sure your real hair color is lovely, too…"

"I'm a ginger," Hope shot back. "Everyone makes fun of my red hair. So, no, it's not lovely." She didn't mention that her hair had been much longer and naturally-colored in October when she had been raped. The first thing she'd done was get it all cut off and bleached to platinum so she could dye it pink. Anything to make the hurt stop hurting.

"Enough," Mary said, stepping between them. "Enough."

"My mum was ginger," Harry said softly. "Beautiful woman, she was. You look very much like her, Hope."

"I don't really look like anybody," Hope said.

"Because you're you," Mary said with a smile, ruffling Hope's hair. "I love you, sweetheart."

And then her attention was drawn back to the table. "Do we have company coming?"

"Our old friends Michael and Janine are in town," Harry said.

"Oh?" The question was both apprehensive and intrigued, and Hope watched her parents intently.

"They brought something important for you from London," he continued. "Lucy, what are you doing? Get your hands out of the salad, little madam – go wash them, right now. Hope, can you help her?"

Hope frowned, knowing she was being dismissed from a conversation she wasn't meant to be privy to. When she and Lucy came back, her mother wasn't in the kitchen any longer, and Harry was draining pasta.

"Harry," Hope said, "what did Michael and Janine bring from London?"

"Your mum's favorite chocolates," he lied smoothly.

She knew he was lying because his mouth did this… thing… when he wasn't telling the truth. But what did she know? She was just a stupid kid.

"I've got study group at seven," Hope said. "Can I eat now, please?"

He plated her pasta and green beans, made sure she was comfortable at the table, and stepped away when Mary stormed into the room, yelling, "And what the hell is this nonsense? Who the hell thought –"

"Ros assumed, and made the decision," Harry said. "Michael and Janine will be glad to tell you more so you can yell at them when they get here."

Mary paused, looking at Hope. "Why are you eating now?" she asked blankly.

"Study group at Megan's for biology."

Mary sighed. "Do you need me to walk you?"

"No, mom, I'm fine." Hope bit back the retort that she was almost an adult already. Choosing to go to study group was part of being an adult – especially when Jason Donovan was going to be there, too. She really hated group projects. "I should be home about nine."

She ate quickly, then grabbed her bag and coat. She was headed out the door when a man and a woman came up the steps. "You must be Hope," the woman said with a smile. "Wow – you look like –"

"Ring the bell," Hope said, "they're all waiting for you." She pulled up her coat collar and walked into the night.