Epilogue

He groans in protest, pulling the covers higher over his naked body, his eyes remaining resolutely closed, and she can't help smiling fondly down at him. A month ago she'd never have guessed that Harry Pearce is even capable of having a lie-in, let alone one where he is actually sleeping. She always assumed he was a morning person, up at the crack of dawn, rain or shine, ready to face the enemy. Mind you, he'd loved her up so thoroughly before dawn this morning that, maybe, it's understandable for him to want and need a few more hours sleep.

"Sleep," she tells him, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek. "I won't be long. Ruth said she only has a little while before her seminar."

He hums in acknowledgement, so she kisses his cheek again, just because she can, just because she wants to, and runs gentle fingers through his hair before she rises from the edge of the bed and crosses the room to the door. Once there, she pauses again, making sure she has her purse and room key before opening the door and turning to look at him again.

He has his eyes open now, his gaze lazy and warm. "Be careful," he murmurs, voice low and unbelievably sexy.

"I will," she replies, fighting the temptation to return to bed with him. "I'll bring you back a coffee."

He smiles. "Ring me if you need me."

"I always need you," she tells him and cannot help releasing the door and quickly crossing the room to his side again, placing a searing kiss on his plump lips – well, more like five of them before she manages to pull away again. "I'm going to be late and she's going to think I'm late because you've been shagging me silly."

He hums. "Stay then," he says, his right hand sneaking out from under the covers to run up the inside of her thigh seductively.

She moans in protest and pulls back, taking his hand in hers to stop it exploring. "Later," she says, kissing his fingertips and turning away, crossing the room again to the door. She opens it and turns to him again. "Sleep," she tells him and blows him a kiss. "I'll be back later with coffee and a pastry."

"I'll keep the bed warm for you," he promises, sending her a smouldering look.

She smiles and slips out of their room, closing the door behind her, her mind full of Harry and how wonderful these last few weeks have been, how different he is away from work, how right he was to tell her to give him a change to show her who he really is. The answer is he's wonderful and she couldn't be happier to be sharing her life with him. In fact, she's been thinking lately of suggesting they move in together. She's beginning to hate the evenings she has to go home without him, and with the work they do, there are far too many of them for her liking.

She orders her coffee and a muffin, taking a seat at a table by the window. She doesn't know why she always orders a muffin. She always feels so guilty and embarrassed eating it.

She opens her bag, pulling out her notes for her seminar, reminding herself of all the points she has to cover today as she waits for Ruth Evershed to turn up. She's arrived a little earlier than they'd said, but she's soon so absorbed in her work that she's eaten half the muffin without even noticing and doesn't realise how late it's getting until a breathless Ruth makes an appearance at her table, gushing apologies.

"I'm so sorry, Ruth," she says. "I was up really early, but then I got absorbed doing some research and didn't notice the time, and now I'm terribly late. Do we still have time? What time do you have to leave here?"

She glances at the clock on the wall above the counter. "I have fifteen minutes still," she replies. "It's fine. Why don't you order while I gather and put this away?" she suggests, beginning to organise her papers. It never fails to amaze her how untidy they get when she's simply just looking through them.

"Okay. Sounds good," Ruth agrees, smiling before turning away.

Soon they'd both sitting down, talking about the weather. It's a very important cultural ritual after all and she can't help wondering if the Iron Age skeletons she's uncovered in the past did the same thing.

"At least it's not raining," she finds herself saying. "Norfolk's not at its best when its raining."

"Places rarely are. I'm looking forward to seeing the saltmarsh this afternoon. You've told me so much about it," Ruth replies warmly.

"Well, I hope it lives up to your expectations. Kate's very excited you're coming." She smiles, remembering her daughter's babbling last night about all the things she wants to show Ruth.

"Where is she this morning?" Ruth asks.

"She's with friends. I'm sorry. I don't usually have seminars on a Saturday, but this group is preparing for a dig and I need to give them their instructions."

"Of course. Don't worry about us. We'll find something to do, I'm sure," Ruth replies, not quite meeting her eye and she's sure she can detect a faint blush colouring her cheeks.

"His name's Cathbad. My friend, I mean," she says quickly to save them both from any awkwardness. "He's a scientist and a druid. You'll meet him tonight. He loves to light bonfires on the beach, so I'm sure he'll be there with his children, perhaps even his wife, Judy. She's a detective sergeant. She works with Nelson."

"Will he be there too?"

"I've no idea," she responds, feeling uncomfortable. Sometimes she regrets how much she tells people about her non-existent relationship with Nelson. In fact, she doesn't really tell many people. Cathbad seems to know intuitively, and everyone else in her life, never asks. It's only Ruth Evershed who's managed to gain her confidence in this department. It's strange really as she hardly knows her. Perhaps that had been the appeal – the anonymity of two intelligent, lonely women with man issues stuck together for the night. Only now they're building a friendship, she's not entirely sure how to deal with it.

"Sorry," Ruth Evershed says kindly. "I don't mean to pry."

"No, it's fine," she's quick to reassure her. It's not fine, but it is what it is and no amount of wishing will change it. "I should get going."

"Right. I'll see you later then?"

"Yes. Around two?"

"Sounds good."

"Are you sure you'll be able to find it?"

"Harry's pretty confident we will." Ruth Evershed smiles, then leans in conspiratorially. "I've got it all entered in the satnav, don't worry. Last thing we need is to get lost. Harry never asks for directions."

She laughs and gets up, returning Ruth's quick embrace and watching as she turns for the door, only to do a quick about turn, saying, "Coffee. I promised him a coffee."

She smiles, amused by her flustered, somewhat absent-minded behaviour, then gathers her things and makes her way outside to her car and the five minute drive to campus.

It's a chilly evening, now in mid-October, but the skies are clear and Cathbad has got his bonfire going. He's also remembered to bring along some mulled wine for those who are not driving and hot coffee for those needing to remain sober. Thankfully, she falls into the first category as Harry's driving and she's happily sipping it out of a plastic cup, feeling joyous, mellow, and relaxed.

"The children love it out here," she comments, watching Kate run around the fire and little Miranda, Cathbad's daughter, toddling along behind her, trying to keep up.

Michael, Cathbad's son, is off to the side with Harry, of all people, watching him carve a piece of wood into something. For some odd reason, Harry's taken to the five-year-old, quiet child, and she's seeing a side of him she's never glimpsed before that is stirring all sorts of long set aside yearnings.

"He's very good with Michael," Ruth Galloway comments, following her line of sight to the pair of them.

"Yes. He's normally hopeless with children."

"He's an old soul, is Michael," Cathbad says sagely. "Ah good. They're here," he adds, looking past them, and when they turn, she sees DCI Nelson and a woman walking towards them. She's clearly not his pregnant wife, so she guesses this must be Cathbad's.

"Judy," the woman says, shaking hands when she's introduced to her.

"Ruth," she replies, smiling, but they don't have much of a chance to say anything more before Miranda, reaches her mother and gets scooped up for a proper greeting.

"Good to see you again, DCI Nelson," she says instead, turning to the brooding policeman.

"And you," he agrees and falls silent.

"Daddy!" Kate hurls herself at him and she watches with interest as his face softens at this welcome from his daughter.

"Hello, Katie."

"Where's Bruno?"

"At home. I came straight from the police station."

"Oh." She sounds rather disappointed, but recovers quickly, clearly not one to dwell on setbacks long. She thinks that's quite admirable a trait and vows to practice it more herself.

In the meantime, it's revealed that what Harry has been so busily carving is a whistle and young Michael is delighted with it. He blows on it over and over again, showing off his prize to his mother and father.

"I want one," Kate demands, wiggling in her father's arms until he puts her down. She rushes over to Harry, who is making his way towards them. "Can I have one too?" she asks. "Please," she adds, as an afterthought.

"If you find me another piece of drift wood, I'll see what I can do," Harry replies, smiling kindly down at her.

Kate immediately rushes off as Harry joins them. "Alright?" he asks, his warm hand resting against her lower back as he stops beside her. It never fails to amaze her how warm Harry's hands are no matter the weather.

"Wonderful," she says, smiling up at him. It's so nice to have him be affectionate in public – he rarely does this in London. It's not over the top – it's not really in his nature – but it's nice to have him hold her hand or offer her a fleeting kiss, stand close to her or discretely wrap an arm around her. "You remember DCI Nelson, don't you?"

Harry nods and she's pleased when his expression remains neutral. "DCI Nelson," he says, extending his hand and shaking the detective's. "Harry Pearce," he offers, remembering perhaps that they haven't been introduced properly.

"Mr Pearce," Nelson replies, aiming for a nonchalant tone.

"Harry," Harry insists.

"Most people call me Nelson."

They don't get much of a chance to start a conversation, however, as Kate comes rushing back with a piece of wood in each hand. "One is for Miranda," she declares.

"That was very thoughtful of you, Kate," she smiles, catching Ruth Galloway's eye who's looking rather proud.

"Right," Harry says, crouching down beside her. "Let's see what you have here. This one will do quite nicely." And with that, he reaches into his pocket for his penknife and begins working on the wood, but Kate doesn't have Michael's patience or interest and is soon chatting away about other things.

"It's my birthday soon," she says.

"That's nice," Ruth replies. "Are you doing something special?"

"I'm having a party," Kate announces breezily, as Ruth Galloway's eyebrows rise in surprise.

"That sounds like fun."

"You can come too. And Mister Harry."

Harry smiles.

"Thank you, Kate," she says.

"We can have it here and you can make whistles for all my friends."

Harry chuckles.

"We'll see, Kate," her mother intervenes quickly. "It'll be colder and wetter by the first of November."

"Is her birthday the first of November?" she asks, surprised by the coincidence.

"Yes."

"So is Harry's!"

"Quite the coincidence," Cathbad agrees, materialising suddenly and promptly moving away again. "And there's Nelson. Scorpios abound this evening."

Harry catches her eye and she has to quickly suppress a smile.

"Don't mind Cathbad," Ruth Galloway advises.

"He's magic," says Kate, sagely.

"Your birthday is in November too, I take it, DCI Nelson?" she says, turning to him and just catching the longing in his gaze as he looks at Ruth Galloway.

"It is," he confirms, rather reluctantly.

"When's your birthday, Ruth?"

"June 24th. Yours?"

"April 29th."

Harry tests out the whistle and Kate is delighted when it makes a sound. He hands it to her and she thanks him exuberantly, even going as far as to give him a quick hug. "Thanks, Mister Harry."

"You're most welcome, Kate," he replies, watching fondly as she skips away to show Michael.

"You're a great hit," she tells him, turning to wrap her left arm around his waist and lean into him.

He smiles, slipping his arm around her shoulders and kissing her temple. "It's nice to have the opportunity," he murmurs.

"Thank you, Harry," Ruth Galloway says. "She loves it. Do you have children?"

He hesitates, so she squeezes his side. "Two from my first marriage," he replies, rather reluctantly. "They left home a long time ago now."

First Marriage. She smiles, somehow exceedingly pleased to hear him refer to it as such. Is he thinking of their relationship as his second marriage then? Is he going to ask her? She knows they're both fully committed, and though they've been together just over a month, in their hearts, it's been a lot longer.

"Walk with me?" Harry suggests softly.

"I'd like that," she replies. "We're just going to walk down the beach a little ways," she says to the others, who nod and watch them walk away, his hand reaching for hers and clasping it tightly.

The stars are starting to come out now that the sun has set and she admires them as they stroll along, amazed by how many they can see away from the lights of London. They don't speak. There's no need. She feels perfectly in tune with Harry and, when it's time to turn back, they stop at the same time and turn to face each other.

"It's so beautiful here," she says. It's almost fully dark now, the stars sparkling above them, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, the peace of it all infusing her being.

"I love you, Ruth," he replies, his warm palm rising to her cheek.

She meets his gaze and lifts her chin to meet his lips, warm and soft and tender.

"I love you too," she tells him.

"Live with me." His voice is earnest and low, his gaze intense even in the gathering darkness. "Marry me. Stay with me always."

She smiles, fleetingly wondering if he'd planned this or, like her, had suddenly been struck by the idea just now or earlier today, after the wonderful day they've had together. This trip has certainly been rather magical for them and, away from London and their jobs, they've had a glimpse of what life could be like for them once Harry's retired.

"Yes," she tells him. "Of course, I will. Yes to all of that, Harry."

He smiles and wraps his arms around her, exuberantly lifting her up and spinning her in a circle.

She shrieks a little in surprise and laughs as he puts her down again, both of them breathless even before they seal their promise with a kiss that's obscenely passionate and lustful.

"Are they alright, do you think?" Nelson asks, nodding in the direction from which the shriek had come from.

"I'm sure they're fine, Nelson," she replies, surprised to hear he's worried about them. "They're spies," she adds in a whisper. "They're far better equipped for dealing with danger that we are."

Nelson grunts. "I don't know about that. He must be pushing sixty and Ruth.. Let's just say I'd have more faith in Judy's abilities than hers."

"Don't begrudge them their happiness, Nelson," she tells him and walks over to Judy who's watching Miranda and Kate. She's been trying to avoid Nelson and keep interactions to a minimum lately. It isn't healthy to dwell on what can never be, or how close she came to having what she wanted.

Behind her, Nelson objects, "I just don't want to be fishing any bodies out of the water later."

"I'm sure it won't come to that, Nelson," Cathbad says. "They have happy news to share when they rejoin us."