A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews. Things get slightly M-ish for a moment in this chapter.

Ruth awoke next morning refreshed, having slept for almost nine hours. She was quite secure in the knowledge she'd no longer be sleeping in the guest bedroom. Somehow, she knew Harry wouldn't mind her company in his bed. Somehow, she knew that she and Harry were about to take a new step forward in their relationship. Ruth sat up, and was about to put her feet on the floor, when she heard her phone ringing from inside the pocket of her jeans, so she grabbed her jeans and felt around for her phone, catching it in mid-air as it fell out of a pocket.

"Yes?" she said, exasperated. Who would be ringing her at 6 am, especially when she had no need to be up at this hour?

"Ruth," she heard a deep and mellow voice say her name in the way no-one else ever could. No-one but Harry said her name like a prayer …... with such deep respect, like a vow of love.

"Harry, you're out!"

"I haven't been in gaol, Ruth, although it felt like gaol to me."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at work. The mystery of Elena's murder has been solved. Look, I'll tell you about it when I get home. I have an hour's work here, and then I have an 8 o'clock appointment with the HS. After that I'm coming home. You can expect me any time after 9 am. I can't wait to see you."

"I'll be here, Harry. I look forward to seeing you."

"I've missed you, Ruth."

"Me too," she said quietly, unable to say anything else.

They hung up, and Ruth made a quick mental note of everything she needed to do before Harry came home …... shower, dress in some clean clothes, have breakfast, gather together some ingredients for lunch, hoping that Harry will be staying at home for the day. It was Saturday, after all. She had to tidy the guest bedroom, put through a load of washing, tidy Harry's bed …... (Who's been sleeping in my bed?) She may as well get started.

Ruth had no sooner finished all the jobs she'd assigned herself and made a pot of tea than she heard Harry's key in the front door. It was a little after 10 o'clock. She put down the kettle of boiling water, and ran to the door. As he turned from keying in the security code, she threw herself at him and grabbed him around the neck with her good arm, while her left hand grasped his coat at his waist. Harry put both his arms around her, and held her close, and then he pulled back to kiss her. It was only a quick kiss.

"I smell like a wrestler's armpit, Ruth. The first thing I need is a long soak in a hot bath."

"Damn," she replied. "I didn't even think to run you a bath."

"I don't expect you to wait on me. I'm just glad you're still here. I was afraid you may have gone back to your own place."

"And miss out on kissing you hello? Not likely."

Ruth grasped his hand, and led him to the kitchen. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

Harry looked at her with a strange smile, the kind of smile that told her he was interpreting her question in another way.

"Are you in need of food?"

"I could do with a cup of tea and some boiled eggs with soldiers."

"Soldiers?"

"Yes. I need a soak in the bath for a half hour or so, then I'd like tea, eggs, and soldiers. I'll make them, though."

"No Harry, I'll make them. I want to …... wait on you, just this once. I've missed you."

Harry stepped closer to Ruth, and leaned towards her to plant a kiss on her cheek. "I've missed you more."

When Harry hadn't appeared downstairs after forty-five minutes, Ruth went in search of him. She thought he may have fallen asleep, but he wasn't in his bedroom. There was no sound from the en suite, so she walked quietly through the open door into his bathroom and stood just inside the doorway. Harry was submerged in the bath, his head resting against the end of the tub, his eyes closed. Silently she ventured closer, kneeling beside the bath. There were vestiges of bubbles on the surface of the water over his feet, but the remainder of the water was clear, giving her an open view of his submerged body. Whilst she and Harry had fooled around a bit on the sofa – at her place and at his – they had not yet seen one another naked. Ruth quickly checked that Harry was really asleep, which he seemed to be, his breathing steady and regular, his eyes closed. She rested her chin on her arms on the edge of the bath, and gazed at the body of this man, the depth of the water creating a prism through which Harry's body appeared slightly distorted, and his skin much whiter than she believed it to be. To her surprise, his body was firmer than she'd expected, with just a softness around his belly and his sides. His limbs were firm, but she'd known that from running her hands over his arms and legs while they were engaged in their snogging sessions.

Despite her determination to not perve on him in a creepy way, Ruth could not take her eyes from his genital area. She'd felt his erection against her thigh or her stomach when their passions had risen, but she'd not touched him through clothing, nor had she seen him until now. After all, it would only be a matter of time …... wouldn't it? He was quite well endowed, but she'd not seen enough male genitalia to be making comparisons. He certainly appeared bigger than any other men she'd seen naked, and surely that couldn't all be down to distortion through the water. She was watching his penis under the water, when she was sure she noticed it growing, slowly but surely. Yes, it was lifting from the horizontal towards the vertical. Christ – he must be having an erotic dream. Time for me to be out of here.

Ruth looked up at Harry, to see his eyes lazily watching her. She was sure her face would show how startled (and embarrassed) she was.

"See anything interesting down there?" he said, his voice thick and slow.

"God, I'm sorry. I was just …..."

"Checking me out."

Ruth nodded. "I thought you must have been having an erotic dream."

"Not this time. I opened my eyes, and there you were, checking me over, so naturally I felt ….. arousal. Do you want to come in here with me? It might be fun."

Ruth shook her head. "I came up here to check you were alright. I wanted to see if you were ready to eat. Food, that is."

"And while you were here, you thought you'd -"

"Harry, I'm sorry about looking at you without -"

"Don't be. The last person to see me naked was …... heck, I can't remember. It was so long ago."

Ruth stood up, and began to turn from the bath, ensuring she did not make eye contact with Harry.

"Ruth," he said, sitting up in the bath, and reaching out to grasp her hand. "I don't want you to feel embarrassed. I'm flattered that you want to look at me like that. It's good for my ego to have an attractive woman checking me out in the way you just did. I liked it. No, I loved it. Well, you can see how much I loved it. I don't want us to be shy about our bodies. I know my body is far from perfect …..."

"I think you're lovely," she said, turning to look at him. "I was …... admiring what I saw."

"That's good," he said, smiling, his hand still grasping hers. "Come in here for a while. I might even let you handle what you were admiring. Actually, the handling will be mandatory." His smile widened with his small joke. "We can fool around in the water."

Ruth stood for a moment, her hand in Harry's, looking into his beautiful eyes. She really wanted to join him in the bath, but she was not quite ready for it. She still felt a little silly that he'd caught her looking, and she needed to get away from him for a while, to pull herself together.

"I'd like that, Harry," she said, "but you have to eat, and then rest. We can …... do something …... later."

Before she could see the look of disappointment on his face, she withdrew her hand, and left the room.

When Harry came downstairs after his bath, he was dressed in an pair of faded blue jeans, a bulky cream-coloured cable-knit jumper which looked like a favourite from years ago, and his slippers. While he'd been in the bath, it had begun to rain, and the rain was steady and heavy, so heavy that it could be heard from inside the house, slapping on the pavement outside. Ruth had turned on the fire in the living room, and had brought the pot of tea, cups and Harry's eggs and soldiers, and placed them on the coffee table. She sat beside him while he hungrily tucked into his food. The scene in the bathroom was not mentioned. Harry had decided to let it slide, and Ruth was grateful for that. By the time she'd realised that she'd acted like coy schoolgirl, and that she should have joined Harry in the bath, she could hear the water draining down the plughole. It had been too late to change her mind. Hopefully there would be a next time.

Nothing was said until Harry had finished eating, and was sitting back with a cup of tea in his hand. He rested his free hand on Ruth's leg. Ruth felt content at last. She knew where Harry was. He was here – in his house – with her, and that was the way it needed to be. Any embarrassment she may have felt about looking at him while naked in his bath had gone …... down the drain with the bath water. His body was a mature man's body with all the usual bits and bobs. For his age and lifestyle he was in remarkable shape, and he was …... rather well endowed. So what was her problem? Ruth realised that she had no problem with any of that. She'd just got into a habit of running from Harry whenever she felt embarrassed or put on the spot. That would have to change. It was wrong to punish Harry for her own coyness. He didn't deserve that.

"Tell me about how Elena died," she said after a while. "If you want to tell me, that is."

Ruth thought perhaps Harry hadn't heard her. He seemed to have no reaction to her question. He sat with his hand on her thigh, watching the fire, Scarlet was curled in a ball on the hearth, snoring loudly. After a minute or two, he began speaking.

"I won't go into the details of how we know this, but needless to say, Tariq deserves a promotion. Trouble is, he's already our top technical expert, so there's nowhere higher for him to go in Section D."

"Perhaps it's best to not tell him that, Harry. He might seek greener pastures elsewhere. I imagine the private sector would pay him well for his skills."

"I'm planning to not mention the words `private' or `sector' in his presence. I don't wish to lose him."

"Who was it murdered Elena?"

"Her son."

"Sasha Gavrik murdered his mother?"

"Yes. He later, in a fit of remorse, confessed to his father, and then his father shot him dead."

"God. That's awful."

"Dimitri mentioned that it was you who first mentioned the likelihood of Elena's murder being a crime of passion, and you were right. I spoke to Ilya in private before they put him on a plane to Moscow first thing this morning. He'll be dealt with there, although I suspect he'll be treated with a strange kind of respect. Elena was not at all popular in Moscow, and Ilya knows too much about too many people for him to be thrown into prison."

"Do you know why Sasha killed his mother?"

"Apparently she told him that he was my son, and he cracked up completely. I've no idea why he believed her, and I have even less idea why she would tell him that. DNA tests are being run on the three of them, just for Ilya's peace of mind, but I believe that he's satisfied Sasha was his son."

"So why did he kill his own son?"

"Because Sasha had killed his mother. Despite Ilya's total belief that Sasha was his blood, he loved Elena above all others."

"I thought Elena was being followed."

"She was. They followed her to the Marriott, and waited, but she never left. Sasha entered through a side door. It was Tariq who discovered that. Sasha strangled his mother with a sash that's used to tie back the curtains."

"Whose room was it?"

"Now, this is where Tariq shone. The person who arranged the room was a disgraced CIA operative by the name of Ed Field. The CIA kicked him out quite publicly when he was found to be working with the Russians. He went into hiding to avoid being sent to Guantanamo. He's maintained his Russian connections ever since, living out of a suitcase in Europe, travelling from city to city, using all manner of false identities and even disguises. He used my name to book the room, both to get Elena there, as well as to implicate me as still being run by her. Were something to happen to Elena, then I would have been chief suspect. Ed booked himself in at hotel reception. Now that he and I are both middle-aged, we bear a remarkable likeness to one another – physically at least. Ed was most likely hiding in the bathroom. It seems that had Sasha not killed her, Ed may have done it himself. She was the reason the CIA discovered he was a double agent."

"Why would Elena want to see you, Harry?"

Harry sighed heavily, lifted his hand from her leg, and grasping her hand tightly, he brought it up to his lips. "I can only speculate about that. I suspect that she wanted to meet me there, hoping Sasha would turn up, and find us …... you know …."

"In flagrante delicto."

"Perhaps, although the chances of that happening would be zero. Then, Sasha would kill me, and Elena would feel vindicated, claiming I'd forced her."

"Twisted bitch..."

Harry laughed lightly. "Yes. She was. I can see that rather clearly now. I was just too naïve and horny at the time I met her. I let my …... I thought with something other than my grey matter."

"I guess you're not alone there, Harry. Many healthy young men are guilty of that. It's what has kept the human race going for this long."

He looked at Ruth, and squeezed her hand. "I feel really awkward talking about this with you, Ruth."

"Why? You're human, Harry. You're not made of stone. You have drives and desires just like the rest of us. You were once a young man, and you behaved as young men often behave. It happens."

"Thank you, Ruth."

"I now know why she came here yesterday," Ruth said.

"You do? How?"

"We women have our own way of thinking. I think all she wanted to do was to rattle me. To let me know she was in town, and looking for you. Then when I contacted you, we'd fight about her, you would storm out, or hang up on me. Then when she contacted you, you'd think, `why the hell shouldn't I?' She'd ask you to meet her at the Marriott, she'd taunt you, shame you, and get you to admit you still wanted to sleep with her, and then out would come Sasha from behind the curtains and he'd kill you."

"Isn't that the plot of Hamlet, Ruth? Perhaps you've confused the two."

"It's not the plot of Hamlet, but it is rather Shakespearian in tone. It's too melodramatic for Chekhov."

"What this really means, though, is that there will be no trade agreement with Russia. Not this time, anyway. Perhaps some time in the future."

"Perhaps," Ruth replied, "perhaps next time Gavrik will come to London on his own, and so there'll be no three-act play going on in the wings."

"I think you may have mixed your metaphors, Ruth."

"No doubt I have. There's one thing which doesn't add up."

"Only one?"

"Harry …... if she was expecting to meet you at the Marriott, then how was she to get the message to you."

"I don't know, but I suspect she wanted to leave that message with you yesterday, and her plan backfired when you shut the door in her face. My clever Ruth."

Ruth looked into Harry's face, and for the first time saw the weariness there. In all the excitement of having him home again, she'd forgotten that he'd spent the night in a safe house. "Harry," she said, "do you need to catch up on sleep?"

He looked at her then and smiled weakly. "I am rather tired. I hardly slept at all last night. I was worried about you being here alone, and the bed at the safe house smelled like mould, and the mattress was lumpy. I think I might try to kip here on the sofa. It's cosy in here."

Harry stretched out on the sofa, and Ruth went upstairs to get the duvet off the single bed in the small bedroom. By the time she'd again entered the living room, he was snoring. She carefully arranged the duvet over him, tucking it around him, took off his slippers, and then gently kissed his cheek. She closed the curtains, and left the door ajar, just in case he wanted anything. In an instant the tables had turned. Ruth was now caring for her carer.

Harry slept until 5.30 pm, by which time, Ruth had cut up the ingredients to make almond chicken. She found a bottle of white burgundy in the cupboard above the sink, so she put that in the fridge to chill. When she went into the sitting room to check on Harry, he was stirring. She stood inside the doorway, watching him as he stretched and yawned, and scratched his chest. Just like Scarlet, she thought. He didn't notice her watching him until he sat up.

"What?" he said.

"Nothing. I was just watching you. Are you hungry?"

"Starving. Don't tell me you've cooked dinner."

"All it needs is you and me to eat it."

Ruth reached out to take his hand, and and then she led him to the dining table.

It was getting on for 9 pm by the time they'd talked, eaten, and then finished the bottle of white burgundy, and talked some more. Nestled against one another on the sofa, Ruth could feel tension in Harry's body. She leaned against him, while his arm rested loosely around her shoulder. Ruth was experiencing a tension of her own, so she decided to dive in at the deep end.

"I'd like to return to work on Monday. I'm well enough, Harry, and don't tell me I need another week off. Unless you want me at home looking after you. I quite like looking after you, but I think I'm capable of more. I'm good at my job, and as effective as Lucy obviously is, she's not me."

"It was Lucy who uncovered the chatter about Ed Field's plan to kill me. She's pretty good."

"Harry, you know she'll never be as good as I am. My shoulder is still stiff, but I can type almost as well as I did before I was shot. And I promise I won't do any more field work. If someone wants me in the field – for any reason – I'll decline. If I get too tired, I'll go home, but I think I'm well enough -"

"Ruth …..."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I agree you should go back to work on Monday. I can see how unfulfilled you are being stuck here, especially when I'm not here for most of the day. Besides, I've missed your presence at work."

"You surprise me. I'd expected at the very least a discussion."

"What's there to discuss? If you're well enough to take care of me, you're well enough to work." Harry looked at her for a few moments before continuing. "There is one other thing. Your living arrangements. Our living arrangements. We …... I enjoy having you here. I was thinking …..."

Harry stopped speaking, and swallowed heavily. Ruth turned slightly under his arm, and looked at him.

The great Harry Pearce was stuck for words.

A/N: A couple of reviewers asked how it was Elena knew about Ruth – and vice versa. I have deliberately left these questions unanswered, and they will remain that way now Elena is dead. However, Harry surmised in Chap 4 how it was possible that (perhaps) the FSB could have known about his relationship with Ruth, and that Elena chose to capitalise on that.