"Daddy!" Lottie squealed, as she and Ruth hurried towards the marquee.

Harry, who had been fixing yet another tedious squabble, glanced up and heaved a heavy sigh of relief. They were alright. They were okay. He could breathe now. Despite putting on a brave face for the sake of the children, his heart had been absolutely racing with worry. His girls were nearly fifty minutes late and it had taken a significant amount of emotional agility for him to not give way to panic. Nevertheless, he had been powerless to stop that mental list from building up in his mind; the list of all the calamities that might have occurred; all the things that might have happened to them. He had just been on the verge of sending out a search party when they arrived.

"Squirt!" he greeted, picking her up and holding her close.

"It looks beautiful, Daddy!" Lottie grinned, blinking up at the twinkling fairy lights.

"Why thank you, Squirt," Harry smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead and setting her gently back down. "Nice of you to show up... in the end."

It wasn't hard to detect the recrimination in his voice and Ruth offered him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry we're late. We had a... um... well, an interesting experience at the beach."

"Oh?" Harry prompted, his curiosity piqued.

"We... we picked up a new guest," Ruth murmured.

"Ava," Lottie informed him matter-of-factly. "We put her in Caravan Five so she could get settled in."

Harry noted that Ruth was distinctly avoiding his eyes.

"And why do I get the feeling that this 'Ava' isn't exactly good news?" he asked suspiciously. "What's wrong with her?"

"We don't know what's wrong with her," Lottie supplied brightly, with all the innocence of the six-year-old child that she was. "She wouldn't tell us."

And before anyone could say anything else, she launched into the lengthy tale of how she and Ruth had encountered this mysterious stranger on the beach, starting with how the woman had been upset, then angry, then how it turned out she was English and thus a long way from home, and ending with how Ruth had offered her a place to stay.

For a moment, Harry just stared at Ruth, his mouth open, his eyebrows slowly knotting in outrage. What on earth was she thinking? How could Ruth – someone who was usually so careful, so meticulous in her interactions with others – have been so reckless? They had discussed their policy regarding guests a thousand times. They were to only accept them if they had valid identification, no direct links to their former lives, and if they came to them. Admitting a stranger, a woman from their homestead, who carried no solid proof of ID, was absolute insanity!

"Squirt, go and play with Jamie," he instructed quietly. "I think he wants to give you his present."

Lottie lit up at the prospect of more presents and scuttled off to the corner of the marquee, where Jamie and a few other boys were attempting to do a one-armed handstand.

Ruth closed her eyes, attempting to block out the burning intensity of Harry's glare. It didn't work. She could still feel his piercing gaze searing through her eyelids.

"Ruth – "

"I know," she sighed, finally summoning the courage to look at him. His stare held a powerful mixture of anger, astonishment, and... fear. Yes. Fear.

"You know the risks," he berated softly. "That woman could have been... could be anyone. Who knows what could have happened on that beach. And with Lottie there too."

"I know, I know. But if you'd seen her sitting there sobbing into the sand, I doubt you could've walked away either."

"And what if she was relying on someone's bleeding heart?" Harry hissed, perhaps a little harsher than he had intended. "Or worse still, your bleeding heart. For all you know, it could have been a honey trap."

"My instincts told me it wasn't."

Harry scoffed, passing a weary hand across his eyes. He didn't need to speak any words for Ruth to understand what that meant, and she bristled at the sheer passive aggressiveness of his stance.

"Right," she nodded stiffly. "I see. Well. Thanks for your confidence."

Harry groaned. This conversation really wasn't heading in the right direction. He took a few much-needed seconds to compose himself; to steady his emotions before their little tiff escalated into a full-blown row. He hated rowing with Ruth. It didn't happen often, but when it did it left them both feeling like crap. And he didn't want that. For either of them. Especially not on Lottie's birthday. He sighed and moved his hands to her upper arms, rubbing them slowly, reassuringly.

"It's not that I don't trust your instincts – it's not that," he murmured softly.

Ruth gave a humourless smile, "That's funny, because that's exactly what it sounds like."

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but a sudden raucous shriek from a nearby child reminded him that they were actually extremely exposed in such a public setting. This conversation needed to be resolved privately. And it needed to be done now. He glanced around, checking for prying eyes and wigging ears. Once he was confident that they weren't under scrutiny, and that Jamie Peters' father was watching over the children, he gently tugged Ruth back behind the marquee, out of sight.

"I'm just a little worried, Ruth," he explained, trying hard to remain patient.

"Weren't you telling me just this morning to move forward? To try not to see ghosts of the past everywhere I turn?"

"Yes, but... this... this isn't like you. Inviting an Englishwoman with no formal identification to stay? For all we know she could be Five... or Six... or worse."

"Says the man who told me at breakfast that no one would find us here."

"Ruth –"

"I don't think she was Five or Six or... or anything remotely dangerous. She didn't seem to recognise me."

"That doesn't tell us anything," Harry grumbled. "Many intelligence officers are good actors. And many terrorists are even better."

"I know that. Realistically I know that," Ruth admitted, frustrated by her inability to communicate what exactly she had felt down on the beach. "But there was something... I don't know... I can't explain it. Honestly, I don't know how or why, but I could just feel it in my heart that this woman, whoever she is, needed help. I couldn't just leave her there. She looked so lost and... " she saw the disbelieving frown permeating Harry's features and trailed off with a lame shrug. "I don't know. I just... remembered what it was like to be in her position... to be alone in a strange place with nothing and no one but your own worst fears and I... I had to help."

Harry's gaze softened. He suddenly found himself needing to touch her, to be close to her, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath his, and he took her hand, entwining their fingers together.

"Ruth – "

"Please don't say I'm naive," she pleaded softly.

Harry chuckled in spite of himself, "I wasn't going to say that."

"Then what? You're doing your unhappy pout again."

"I don't pout," he insisted.

"You should have that tattooed on your forehead."

Harry snorted, shaking his head at this bloody impossible woman, because damn it, how could he stay annoyed with her when she made him smile so much.

"Then you should have 'I'm not naive' tattooed on yours."

Ruth gave a wan smile, "I'm not though, Harry. Naive, I mean. Please. Trust me on this. Something's wrong with this woman and... I think she needs help."

Harry stared doubtfully into those hypnotic blue eyes, willing himself to be strong enough to deny her; to follow through with his own spook instincts, and to remember the wealth of experience he had which proved that trusting strangers rarely led to anything good. However, in the end – just like Ruth with this mysterious stranger – his heart ruled over his head.

"Alright," he conceded reluctantly. "Alright, I'll leave it be – for now."

Ruth's smile widened and she reached up to peck him on the lips, "Thank you."

"But we'll need to be extra vigilant. And I want to see her for myself after the party. If I think she's a threat she'll need to leave. Immediately."

"Of course," Ruth nodded, though she remained quietly confident that her own assessment was correct.

"And even if she does check out, she'll need to pay upfront like everyone else."

Ruth lowered her eyes again. Oh dear.

"Ruth?" Harry frowned, before realising what exactly her silence meant. "Oh Ruth, you didn't."

"I know," she muttered, staring at her feet like a chastised schoolgirl.

"Pro-bono?!"

"She hardly had any money – "

"So she said!" Harry spluttered, tugging his hand from Ruth's to fold his arms stubbornly across his chest. "Come on, Ruth. Wake up. She's taking you for a ride. She's a fraud as well as a threat."

"I know what it seems like. But my gut is telling me – "

"You're willing to risk our daughter's safety on a gut feeling?" Harry snapped.

Ruth took a step back, stunned and feeling rather as though she had just been slapped. Within a split second, her cheeks were flaming red, fury flashing dangerously in her gleaming eyes. Harry watched as they darkened from an ocean blue to a very, very stormy grey, and knew immediately that he had gone too far.

"That's... that's not fair, Harry. That's not fair! I'd never put Lottie at risk. Never. I wouldn't even suggest it if I wasn't absolutely convinced that this woman isn't a threat."

Ruth winced, realising that her voice may have carried a little too loudly. She quickly quietened and ducked her head, feeling unable to look at him in that moment.

There was an awkward silence, filled only by tiny, high-pitched shrieks of laughter as the children continued to play, blissfully unaware of the argument raging behind the marquee. Harry and Ruth could just about to make out Lottie's voice amongst the melee, praising Jamie for his near-perfect cartwheel. Ruth sucked in a soothing breath, whilst Harry exhaled alongside her, fumbling for the right words.

"I... I know," he said eventually. "I know that, sweetheart."

He stepped forward and touched a tentative finger to her wrist. When she didn't shrug him off or move to walk away, he drifted his hand further up her arm, laying it to rest on the small of her back. He could feel the tension thrumming through her; the pent-up anger at the insinuation that she'd knowingly invite someone into their fold that might hurt their beloved daughter. Now that he thought about it, the accusation sounded ridiculous to him. Ruth loved that little girl more than life itself. She'd walk through the fires of hell before she let anything happen to her. So then, that spoke volumes about the amount of trust she held in this total stranger.

He eased his other hand around her back and drew her gently into the warmth of his embrace. Stiff but yielding, she allowed herself to be guided. After a moment, she rested her forehead against the column of his throat, breathing in the mesmeric musk of his aftershave.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know you'd never knowingly put Lottie at risk."

There was another pause and then slowly, ever so slowly, he felt the tension ooze from Ruth's body like a gently deflating balloon. She lifted her arms and tucked them neatly around his middle, rubbing up and down his back to communicate that there were no hard feelings.

"And I'm sorry I didn't confer with you," she whispered back. "I should have called."

Harry gave a half-shrug and leant back to look into her eyes. He was incredibly relieved to see that they had returned to that ocean blue colour he so dearly loved

"It's done now. And we'll deal with it... whatever may happen."

"Do you think I'm naive?" Ruth asked, doubt suddenly clouding her features.

Harry considered the revelations that had just been brought to him, and measured them side by side with how Ruth was normally so cautious of strangers. Then he recalled all the previous moments Ruth's gut instincts had saved their necks... his neck, and quite often a good quantity of the population's necks. And most of those times he had questioned her judgement. Over the last six years, he had learnt to trust in her without question. All they had had were each other, and they had needed that trust in order for their relationship to survive. And now, he needed to maintain that same level of trust.

"Not naive, no," he said honestly.

"Mad, then."

Harry chuckled, "Maybe a little mad. But then you've always been bonkers. Bonkers but brilliant."

Ruth smiled self-deprecatingly.

"But above all," Harry murmured. "I think you have a big heart. And that's not a bad thing."

"Once upon a time you'd have said it was," Ruth reminded him, a hint of cheek penetrating her bashful smile. "You'd have said that our feelings compromise our judgement."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Once upon a time, I wouldn't have done this..."

And he suddenly dipped her backwards at the waist, making her squeak. She didn't have a chance to say anything else before he covered her lips with his, kissing her ardently beneath the fairy lights. Ruth didn't complain. There, cradled in Harry's arms, it was hard to believe that had even argued at all. She sighed happily and lost herself in the kiss, granting his tongue access as it tangled with her own.

"Ewwww!" a tiny voice exclaimed from behind them, causing them both to spring apart.

They turned to see a gang of horrified children, headed by Lottie and Jamie, peering round the edge of the marquee. Lottie was used to seeing her parents immersed in such deep displays of affection, but she didn't look all that thrilled to have her friends catch them lip-locked at her birthday party.

"Mr Knight!" Jamie cried, wide-eyed and thoroughly disgusted. "You were eating her face!"

There were further expressions of revulsion from some of the other children, whilst Lottie looked torn between amusement and wanting to sink into a hole in the ground. Harry glanced at Ruth. Her expression was similar to her daughter's, though her cheeks were flushed scarlet and she seemed to be angling towards the more mortified state of emotion. He raised her up to stand properly on her feet and decided that acting like a guilty teenager would only exacerbate the situation. Instead, he held up an authoritative hand, and walked towards the children, shooing them away from the side of the tent.

"Alright, alright!" he laughed. "On that note, shall we all finally eat?"

This, of course, led the children to completely forget their disgust as they were tempted by the lure of the buffet. The braver children, like Lottie, Jamie and their little band of misfits were the ones to speak up, babbling excitedly about what they were going to eat.

"I can't wait! I'm so hungry I thought I was going to die!" Jamie announced dramatically.

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Harry grinned, ruffling the boy's hair.

Ruth watched Harry lead Lottie and the boys up ahead, unable to help the adoring smile that fell across her face.

"M-Mrs Knight?"

Ruth looked down and saw that Sophie May plus a lot of the other quieter children had hung back, wanting to walk with her as opposed to Harry. At that moment, as she observed Harry, lion of the Grid, interacting so tenderly with the children, she couldn't remotely see what was so frightening about him. Still, she flashed them a gentle smile and took the hands of the two nearest girls before following on behind.

"That was the best birthday ever!" Lottie announced, as they finally dragged themselves inside.

Her cheeks were pink from all the overzealous games of Tiggy, and she was still buzzing with delight that even Alfie Sullivan had joined in the final game.

Harry and Ruth were utterly exhausted. They had been up since before dawn – not that they regretted it. Moments stolen together in bed were getting rarer as Lottie got older, and they tried to make the most of it. However, their early rise and the heat of the day, combined with taking charge of twenty young children for hours and hours meant that they were far too tired to take down the marquee and fairy lights. Most of the leftover food had been claimed, so all that really needed doing that night was litter-picking and washing-up. They could live with that.

But for now, they needed to put their daughter to bed. That was going to be a challenge in itself as she still seemed too wired to go to sleep. She had done so much running around that they were confident that once her head hit the pillow, she would be out like a light. But it was getting her to lie down in the first place that was going to be the tricky part.

"Alfie seemed to have a really good time, didn't he?" Lottie gushed.

"He did, darling," Ruth agreed. She noticed that Lottie's school things were still strewn haphazardly across the floor – dumped there in their haste to get to the party. "Can you come and hang up your bag and cardigan, please? We don't want to be tripping over them."

Lottie did as she was told, still grinning from ear to ear. She hummed happily to herself, standing on tiptoes to hang her stuff on the designated hook by the door. As she did so, a thought suddenly occurred to her.

"Daddy! The Measuring Wall!" she gasped.

Harry had collapsed into an armchair, his back aching, his limbs creaking, and his mind well and truly turned to mush. He had been busy weighing up the pros and cons of going to sleep right there and then when his daughter spoke, and so it took him a good few seconds to follow her train of thought. Every birthday since they had moved in, he had stood Lottie against the wall in her room and marked her height. This was a tradition that Lottie greatly looked forward to, as her small stature was often a source of frustration for her. Harry saw the same eagerness glowing in Lottie's eyes now and sighed, reluctantly inching his way towards the edge of the armchair.

"Alright then, Squirt," he agreed. "If you go and change into your pyjamas and brush your teeth, I'll come and measure you."

"Okay," Lottie grinned.

She careered out of the room and up the stairs, whilst Harry, envious of her vigour, tried to summon the will to stand.

"How on earth does she have that much energy?" he groaned.

"Don't ask me," Ruth shrugged, trudging over to where he sat.

It felt as though every muscle, every fibre; every bone in her body had been stretched to its full potential. She somehow doubted that they would be having a Round Three tonight. Bed was an alluring thought, but sleep was so much more enticing right now. Still, work had to be done before they could crawl under the sheets. She caught hold of Harry's hands and hauled him to his feet.

"Come on you," she coaxed gently, squeezing his bicep as she propelled him towards the door. "Our daughter's waiting."

Harry mumbled a few grouchy complaints under his breath but managed to stumble up the stairs without issue. She was just listening to his weary footfall on the landing when there was a knock at the door.

Ruth frowned, wondering who it could be. They weren't expecting anyone. Oh – perhaps one of the children had forgotten something. There was always that one scatterbrained child who left something behind.

She moved to the door as quickly as her aching muscles could carry her. The person standing on the doorstep wasn't a child.

"Ava," she greeted, unable to disguise the surprise in her voice.

"I... hope I'm not intruding."

She was twisting her hands together awkwardly, and even though she was slightly taller than Ruth, she seemed somehow smaller against the blackened backdrop of the night.

"No. No, of course not. Come in."

Ava continued to hover uncertainly, and Ruth had to physically beckon the woman inside before they ended up standing there all night.

"I'm... I'm sorry to bother you," the blonde murmured, ducking her head to talk to her feet, and Ruth couldn't help but think what a far-cry this demure little creature was from the fiery spitfire she had met on the beach.

"It's no bother at all," Ruth assured her. "What can I do for you?"

"Er... well, you said you keep spare lightbulbs for the caravans. The one in Five's blown. I was wondering if –"

"Oh! Yes, of course. Follow me."

She led the younger woman through the hall and into the kitchen, where she began rifling through their 'Spare Parts' cupboard. She found the right wattage and handed Ava a couple of bulbs.

"There you are. And there's a spare, in case it blows again."

"Thank you," Ava awarded her a brief but sincere smile. "And thanks again for... well... you know..."

"No problem."

Now that she properly studied this woman again; saw the pale pallor to her gaunt face, and the sadness in her hazel eyes, she knew that she had made the right decision. And she was absolutely positive that Harry was wrong about her being a potential threat.

"Do you want to stay for some tea?" she found herself asking.

"No. No, it's alright," the blonde quickly declined. "I'm... I'm quite tired."

Ruth gave a breathy chuckle, wiping a hand across her weary eyes, "Yeah, I know the feeling."

"She ran rings round you, did she?"

"And more. But at least she enjoyed herself."

"It sounded like you were all having a good time."

"Oh, God. Sorry," Ruth grimaced. "I hope we didn't disturb you."

"No, it's fine."

"We warned all the other guests a few days ago, so they knew what to expect. You just had it foisted on you."

"Honestly, it's fine," Ava smiled and Ruth noticed again how pretty her smile was, and how, like her eyes, it seemed so oddly familiar. "I liked the noise. Silence can be..."

"Deafening?" Ruth suggested, recalling those first few weeks on the run where background noise had been a blissful release from the lonely silence.

"... E-Exactly."

There was an expression of wonderment upon Ava's face, as if she was trying to work out how exactly this small, unassuming mother on the beach could understand so much of what was going on inside her head. If only she knew, Ruth thought wryly.

At that moment, they heard pounding footsteps on the stairs, and Ava visibly jumped, jostled from her thoughts. Then, with all the force of a tumultuous tornado, Lottie came bursting into the room, riding high on yet another tide of wild enthusiasm.

"Mummy, I'm three foot six!" she squealed. "That's two inches more than last year!"

Ruth laughed, kissing the top of her head and drawing her in for a hug, "What did I tell you? You're getting to be my big girl!"

Lottie revelled in their embrace for a second, but pulled back as she noticed the other person in the room.

"Ava!" she grinned, giving the blonde a friendly little wave.

"Hi, Lottie," Ava smiled. She nodded towards the stuffed cow clutched tightly in Lottie's hand. "Who's this?"

"His name's Moo," Lottie revealed, suddenly turning shy.

Perhaps she was a little embarrassed that someone other than her mother and father had seen her clutching her cuddly friend, because she subtly started to inch herself behind Ruth. Ruth, however, was relieved to see that Ava didn't laugh or comment on this. She merely maintained her sweet smile.

"That's a good name. I used to have a cuddly rabbit called Blue."

Lottie reappeared from her hiding place, "Really?"

"Yes. My dad bought her for me. I used to carry her everywhere when I was your age."

"Was she actually blue?"

"Yes, she was. She was the colour of the sky. But over the years, most of her fur fell out, so I guess she wasn't that blue in the end."

"Do you still have her?"

Ava's face grew sad again, her manner withdrawn and her smile almost bitter, "No. No, I don't have her anymore."

Lottie paused, considering her words, "I have lots of toys. You can have one of them, if you like?"

Ruth's heart practically melted at this declaration, for she knew how much Lottie adored her stuffed animals. To offer one to this woman must mean that her daughter considered her really quite special.

Ava seemed to realise this too, because her gaze softened, "Thank you. That's really kind of you, Lottie. But I won't take your toys from you. You need them much more than I do."

"I don't mind," Lottie insisted, and despite knowing what a wrench it would be for her daughter, Ruth could see that she genuinely meant it. By God, but she loved this dear, sweet little girl.

"Really, Lottie. I'm okay," Ava smiled. "But thank you. It was a lovely thought."

Lottie grinned back, "Do you want some cake, then? There's loads left."

Ava glanced at Ruth, who winked and shrugged as if to say 'Go on'.

"Alright, then," the blonde agreed. "How could I turn down a piece of cake?"

Eager as ever to please, Lottie promptly fled to the kitchen counter to fetch one of the wrapped-up pieces of cake. She carried it carefully over to her newfound friend and dropped it neatly into the palm of her hand.

"Thank you."

Their peace was disturbed by the sudden thump of another, heavier set of footsteps on the stairs, and Ava jumped again, nearly dropping her cake.

"It's alright," Ruth assured her with a gentle smile. "It's just my partner."

"Lottie, where have you run off to now?!" Harry's voice echoed through the house, almost perfectly on cue.

However, this did not seem to soothe Ava's anxiety at all. She might have seemed a little tense before, but now she looked... well, Ruth couldn't think of any other word for it than terrified. She stood there, frozen, stricken and statuesque, cake in one hand, lightbulbs in the other, her eyes wide and wild whilst her face turned chalk white.

"Ava, are you alright?" Ruth frowned, wondering if it was better to approach the woman to offer comfort, or keep her distance.

She felt Lottie back up towards her, grasping for her hand and squeezing as if to ask whether Ava's sudden change in manner was her fault. Just then, Harry entered the kitchen, searching for his AWOL daughter. It didn't take him long to spot Lottie cowering beside her mother. He was by her side in a second, concern evident in his eyes.

"Squirt, what's wrong?"

He followed his daughter's gaze and felt the bottom immediately drop out of his stomach. Like their guest, he simply stood there for a moment, seemingly frozen in time. He blinked slowly, then rapidly, as if he couldn't quite believe the sight lay before him.

"C-Catherine?" he stuttered.

'Dad?" Ava murmured faintly.

And before anyone could say anything else, the blonde's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she fainted dead on the spot.

Many thanks to fcpatechies, wolfdrum and Gregoriana for your reviews. Your support makes all the hard work worth it. All the best x