Thank you so much for the reviews so far. Another slightly longer chapter here.

Ruth heard the gunshot and froze. That couldn't have been Danny. He couldn't have been shot. No. She was listening to silence, not knowing what to say or do. Danny could not have been shot, she wouldn't allow herself to contemplate it. Adam's voice came on the line.

"Come on Ruth, help me. Fiona's still in danger! Tell me about the girl."

"There's no information on her," Ruth said. "We've run her through every system we have and…" Ruth heard the line fizzle out. "Adam!"

Ruth looked up from her desk into Harry's eyes and saw the concern there. "Lost contact?"

"Yes," she said. "Harry… Danny…"

"Not now, Ruth," he said.

"Harry…"

"I promise you, Ruth, there will be time to grieve later, when Fiona and Adam are safe and this is over. There will be time to grieve. We can't fall apart now."

She hated hearing it, but she knew he was right. At the moment, he didn't care who was watching them. He covered Ruth's hand that lay on the desk and squeezed her palm tightly. "We will get out of this."

"Danny won't."

"You think I don't feel this too?" he asked. "We have to help Adam and Fiona. For now." She nodded and he let go of her hand before anyone noticed. She nodded again and got to work.

Danny's body was wheeled out on a trolley and she broke. She felt the tears falling down her face in silence. "Oh Danny." She stroked his poor lifeless face, feeling the hollow pit of grief open up inside her. He really was dead. After so many close calls, he'd succumbed to the risk of being an MI5 agent. Ruth was aware of Harry standing nearby, but she didn't have the attention to spare for him. There was a shout of "Mr Pearce!" and he turned.

"I have to leave you for a moment Ruth."

"I'll stay here with Danny." She kept holding Danny's head very gently, her mind unable to comprehend that his body was in front of her. "Harry's had to leave us for a moment. But I'm here with you Danny," she said quietly. "I won't leave you alone." She kept crying, almost without realising it until Harry returned.

"Come on, Ruth," he said quietly yet firmly.

"I can't leave him," she said.

"There's no more you can do for him," he said, very, very gently. "He'll be taken care of. Come on." Ruth reluctantly dropped her hands and felt sick when a paramedic zipped the body bag closed and took his body to the waiting ambulance.

"I can't have you on your own," Harry said. "I'm going to take you back to my house."

"Harry… I.." she just shook her head, words escaping her.

"Take the car back to my house," he said firmly, a hand on the small of her back. "I have to deal with… operational concerns. I will be with you soon."

"I can't leave," she said, though it was more stubbornness and shock than any conviction in the words.

"You can do no more good here." His hand was still on her back. "Take the car home. I'll be with you as soon as I can be." She gave in and nodded, allowing Harry to usher her in to the car, with a driver already sitting in it. Harry gave the driver his address and gave Ruth his keys. She left, feeling numb from the shock.

It only took a little over an hour to be outside Harry's front door, when she realised that she had another problem. As the car drove away, she remembered that Harry's house was fingerprint protected. How was she to get in? She called Harry.

"I don't have the security clearance to get in your house," she said. "Look, I'm just going home. I'll talk to you later."

"I've added your data to my security system," he said. "I used your fingerprints that are on file at Thames House. You should be okay."

He waited on the phone line until she'd let herself in. Half of her was surprised when the system accepted her prints and reset the alarm. "When did you do that?"

"A couple of hours ago," he said. "I… couldn't cope with you being on your own."

"Fine," she said. "Are you far away?"

"About half an hour," he said. From his tone, she gathered that he was putting things off to come home. She didn't mind in the slightest. Ruth said goodbye and disconnected the call, standing in Harry's hallway. She looked down, seeing her hands shaking. There were also flecks of blood on her skin. Danny's blood. She hurried through to Harry's bathroom and scrubbed at her hands, hard, spending long minutes doing it. Her skin almost glowed pink by the time she'd finished scrubbing. For want of something to do, she put the kettle on, trying to ignore the fact that she was shaking badly. When the kettle had boiled, Harry appeared.

"You were quick," she said.

"I'm worried about you," he said. "I wanted to come home." Ruth found herself leaning into Harry's chest as she cried. His arms ran over her back comfortingly as she fell apart. Harry didn't say anything. He didn't tell her it was going to be okay, he didn't pretend things weren't awful. He just rocked her and held her as she cried and shook with the grief.

Eventually she parted from him and wiped her face. "I shouldn't cry." She felt embarrassed for sobbing over him.

"Yes you should," he said. "You've had a terrible shock. You don't need to apologise for crying."

"How are you not affected?" she asked, suddenly.

"This isn't the first officer who's died on my watch. And it's not the first friend I've lost either. It doesn't mean I don't feel it. I'm not inhumane, Ruth."

"I know that, Harry."

"It never gets easier, coping with the loss. It just get's easier to pretend everything's fine and go through the motions." She nodded, and leaned against him and he stroked her hair. She moved to kiss him gently, her palms resting on his chest. He responded, knowing she needed some comfort and not wanting to say no. She kept kissing him, turning almost desperate.

"Ruth…"

"Harry…" she whispered, showing no intention of stopping.

"We should slow down," he said. "You're not thinking clearly."

"I want…" she broke away from him and shook her head. "I don't know what I want."

"A bath, or a shower?" he suggested.

"Would you mind?" she asked. "Would it be a horrible imposition?"

"I wouldn't have offered if it were," he said. "First on the left, top of the landing. There's towels in the bathroom."

"I don't have to impose, I could go home."

"I don't think you should be alone right now," he said. "And I don't want to be alone either. I can't… I've spent enough nights in shock over losses completely alone. If I don't have to be alone…" She understood. She walked towards him and kissed his cheek briefly.

"Thank you." Ruth followed his instruction to the bathroom and her jaw nearly dropped. It had the biggest bath she'd ever seen, outside of a high end London hotel. Even in her present state of mind, she couldn't fail but be impressed with it. At least two people would fit in it comfortably, probably without even touching. Though if she ever got the chance, she'd certainly be touching Harry. Shaking her head of the thought which shouldn't with her now, she started to run the bath, being a little nosey as the tub filled. His bathroom was very white and minimalist. It looked as if it could just have been installed last week. The towels were fluffy and luxurious, and she smelt a bottle of soap resting on the sink. She closed her eyes as she inhaled the familiar scent of sandalwood and spice. It was a scent that was so uniquely Harry that it brought him to mind instantly. Clearly Harry liked the best of everything in his home comforts.

She undressed and got into the bath, admitting after about five minutes that Harry had had a point. This was making her feel better. Well, a bit calmer at any rate. When she opened the door, she found that Harry had left some clothes for her. Clearly an old shirt of his and some jogging bottoms that fit her quite well, so she assumed they'd been Catherine's at some point. As she slid his shirt on, she closed her eyes, imagining this garment over his skin. She didn't know if it was her imagination or not, but she thought she could still smell his scent. She buttoned it up, feeling more comfortable than she had in a while. By the time she came downstairs, Harry had plated up some food for them both.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Food helps," he said. "Trust me." He looked at her wrapped in his shirt and his eyes lingered on her softly, in a way which would have been deeply complimentary had they not been suffering in shock after Danny's death.

"I didn't know you could cook," she said.

"This was just heating up," he said with a shrug. "Not really cooking. Do you feel any better?"

"A little," she said fairly. They didn't speak, just ate until their plates were relatively empty. "Look, Harry… I know this might be pushing things, but I don't want to sleep alone tonight. I don't think I'd be able to bear it. Would it be all right if…"

"Of course," he said. Though with Ruth next to him, he anticipated a sleepless night, he wouldn't say no to her. Even under the circumstances, sleeping next to Ruth wasn't an opportunity he was about to say no to. "I need a shower first." She nodded and they went upstairs, feeling both awkward and a little uncomfortable, but not enough to stop either of them.

More up hopefully by the weekend.