I've been debating whether to stick closely with canon and ignore everything else, or let this story go the way it wants to. I've gone with the latter so I hope it works!

It was late at night two days later, when they were both still at work, and Harry called her into his office. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes," Ruth said.

"How did you get mixed up with a man like Hicks?" Harry asked, nodding at her to sit down opposite him, which she did.

"He wasn't always like that," she said quietly. "He used to write the most insightful, beautiful pieces. Before he realised that no one actually cared and the money in journalism was about footballers and celebrities."

"I shouldn't ask," he said. "But I'm going to have to. Were you and he ever… involved?"

"No, Harry," she said, smiling slightly. "We've always been friends and nothing more. Not like with you. When I flirted with you and hoped you'd notice me one day."

"Oh, is that what we were doing, is it?" he asked, smiling slightly.

"It's what I was doing," she said, smiling slightly. His eyes sparkled at her, then much to her surprise he looked away from her tapping at his computer. "Harry?"

"Give me a minute," he said. She stayed silent until he returned his gaze to her. Still not speaking, he got up and drew the blinds.

"Harry?" she repeated quietly.

"I haven't been able to kiss you in days," he said deeply. "Not properly. I've just disabled the CCTV. I really want to kiss you, Ruth. I need to."

"We're at work," she said, but her reluctance was halfhearted at best. She knew it had been far too long since she'd felt Harry's lips on hers, more than just a quick peck and she needed him just as badly.

"I want you," he said. The words were simple, but when they were accompanied by the look in his eyes of pure desire and his deep tone... they were her undoing. She walked towards him and kissed him, her palms on his chest. He deepened the embrace, his hands running through her hair, which he pulled free of its tie. She pressed her body against his, loving the solidness of him, the closeness. He was right, it had been too long. He kissed her neck, his tongue darting over her skin as her hands managed to find their way into his trousers, and squeezing his arse. He hissed at the sensation and she smirked, pleased that she could get him to respond like that. Her rationality, that they shouldn't be doing this in his office in Thames House was fast going out of the window, as the urge to open her thighs increased. She could feel him hard against her abdomen and knew that were they in complete privacy, he'd have her on her back begging for more within a minute.

"I want you," he whispered again, licking her earlobe as his right hand squeezed her breast with just the right pressure he'd learned she liked. "God, I want you. To feel your body under mine, to taste you…"

"Harry, don't," she said, reluctantly removing her hands. "Don't… work us both up when we can't do anything about it."

He stopped kissing her, but kept a firm grip on her waist, holding her body close to his, breathing heavily.

"I know," he said. The silence became uncomfortable and he changed the subject. "You call me when you get to the safe house."

"Do you really think…"

"I want you safe," he said firmly. "Call me."

"I will," she promised. He let go of her waist reluctantly and she pressed a relatively chaste kiss to his lips. "See you tomorrow, Harry. Love you." He kissed her gently once more.

"I love you too," he said. "Be careful." She nodded and then left his office. He couldn't contain his worry about her and he had a horrible feeling that something bad was about to happen.

Three hours later

Ruth felt a red hot burn through her left arm as she hit the floor. The bullets were showering the flat, and all she could do was keep her head down and hope any further shots would avoid her. The assault finished about a minute later, but to Ruth it felt like much longer. The pain in her arm was becoming more intense and she knew she'd suffered a shot. Fingers crossed it was only superficial, though it didn't feel like it.

It seemed like everything happened at once, as soon as the bullets stopped flying. Ambulances, backup, police and Harry all appeared within moments of each other. Or that's how it felt like to her.

"Ruth?" She looked up from the sofa she'd sat on once the gunmen vanished. Harry stood there, looking at her with concern. She'd just sat and not moved. Absently she realised she was in shock, but didn't get further in her thinking. "Are you all right?" he asked softly. The panic in his eyes had receded slightly when he saw that she was sitting here, actually conscious and looking relatively okay.

"Careful!" she shouted when he went to hold her hand. "I've been shot. It's not serious."

"Let me see," he said firmly. She held out her left forearm for him to see, but she didn't look herself. She didn't want to see the damage, she could feel it well enough.

"You'll be okay," he said, after assessing it. "But don't you ever say to me that it's not serious when you've take a bullet."

"Fine," she said. She didn't know if it was the shock or the pain, but everything seemed cloudy to her and faintly surreal.

"I'm going to have you taken to hospital to be checked out," he said gently.

"Fine," she repeated as he turned away from her, presumably to get the paramedics. "But Harry…" He looked at her.

"Mm?"

"Don't let them keep me in overnight," she said. "Please."

"Fine, but you're coming home with me," he said in a tone that brooked no arguments. She didn't want to argue. All she wanted was for Harry to hold her. In spite of the room full of people, he dipped to her and placed a kiss to her cheek, gentle and soft. She smiled at the touch and he left to call a paramedic over to her.

In the morning, Ruth woke early, the palest tinge of daybreak not even coming through the window yet. Harry had his arm around her and the pain from her gun wound was astounding. Clearly the pain killers had worn off, but she was slightly reluctant to disentangle herself from Harry to get more. After two or three minutes, though, she had no choice. The gunshot had gone straight through her arm, luckily without hitting the bone, but it still hurt like hell.

She tried to pull away, but Harry's grip on her became tighter. "No."

"I'll be right back, Harry," she said quietly.

"Don't go," he said. His voice sounded so small and pleading that she froze for a moment. She didn't think Harry could ever sound like that.

"I'm not leaving," she said.

"If you leave me, then I'll be all alone." His voice was so small and she'd never seen him like this. He sounded nothing like Harry Pearce. Even though she knew he was asleep, it broke her heart to hear him like this.

"I'm not leaving, Harry," she said. She squeezed his hand and his arms loosened around her, as he slowly fell back into sleep. As quickly as she could, she got her painkillers and a glass of water before laying in bed next to him. His arm clumsily went around her in sleep and she stayed still, letting him touch her. Ruth didn't move, letting the painkillers do their job as the sky steadily brightened out the window.

When Harry returned to consciousness about an hour later, he smiled slightly. "Are you lonely, Harry?" she asked quietly.

"Why are you asking that?" he said.

"You were murmuring in your sleep," she said. "You sounded… so very lonely."

"I have been lonely," he said slowly. "In the past I've been so lonely I could barely breathe for it. Not any more."

"Are you putting that responsibility entirely on me?" she asked, bewildered.

"No," he said. "But you help, I'm not going to deny that." She smiled at him. "It's nice to have someone who cares."

"Do me the one favour," she said. He looked at her, waiting. "Don't hide guns in my house without telling me."

"I knew that would come up," he said. "I won't. I shouldn't have done it. My pathetic excuse, but I just want you to be safe. How is your arm?"

"Okay," she said. "I'll be fine." He pulled her close and kissed her gently.

"Good morning."

"Hi," she said.

"You know, it broke all protocols to have you staying here last night," he said. "Safe houses are there for a reason."

"Well, the last safe house wasn't so safe, was it?" she said.

"No," he agreed. "And I wanted to be with you too." He kissed her again. "I need you to be careful. I can't have anything happen to you." He looked at her arm pointedly. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said. "I…" she didn't get any further because Harry's doorbell rang. Not just once, but continuously.

"Get dressed," Harry said briefly, sensing a problem as he threw on his dressing gown and hurried down the stairs to stop the constant ringing. He pulled open the door and opened his eyes in surprise at the sight of his daughter standing there. She came in and promptly burst into tears.

"Catherine?" he asked, bewildered. He'd never done very well when his children were upset, not knowing how to handle it or what to say for the best. "What's wrong?" he asked as Catherine almost collapsed against him, crying against him.

"G… Graham's OD'ed. He's… in hospital."

"Which one?" Harry asked urgently. He took her by the shoulders, looking directly into her face. "Catherine, calm down and tell me which hospital."

"St… Mary's," she said. "Oh God…"

"What kind of state is he in?" Harry asked, knowing what he really meant was "will he live?"

"Unconscious," Catherine said. "They... don't know if he'll make it."

"What is it?"

"Heroin."

"Right, you need to sit down, I'll get dressed and drive us to the hospital," he said firmly, slipping into his grid persona. He had to keep a lid on his emotions, for now.

"Yes," she agreed, sitting on the sofa and sobbing into her hands. At this particular moment, Ruth came down the stairs, dressed and clearly wanting to leave as soon as possible.

"I know I'm in the way," she said, before Harry could say a word. "I'll just go to the grid. Take your time."

Catherine had noticed Ruth's entrance and was quickly wiping her face free of tears. "Oh, well I'm clearly not welcome, am I?" Catherine said loudly. "I don't even know why I came here. It's not as if I thought you'd care."

"Catherine, don't," Harry said firmly as his daughter got up to leave.

"Bye Harry," Ruth said surely, leaving the house, feeling that her presence wasn't helpful when Catherine was having a meltdown and Harry clearly needed to get to the hospital. Ruth had overheard some of the conversation from upstairs. She left the house, heading towards the grid before Harry turned to his daughter.

Thanks for reading and reviewing this so far.