When Tash Slaughter returns to London the next morning, she is congratulated by none other than Sir Harry Pearce. Sweet. He is able to inform her that her quick thinking has saved the life of not only a valuable former MI-5 officer, but her work has ensured that the three men working for Mace in Kent have been taken into custody relatively unharmed. The third man in Kent had been dobbed into the police by a neighbour for making too much noise while constructing a panic room – designed specifically to house a hostage – under his garage. The building of this room also breached several local council building by-laws, so he was in trouble with most of the authorities, although the secret services whisked him away, and within weeks, his house in Gillingham had a For Sale sign out the front. The two men in North Wales had already been arrested for attempting to hack into the MI-5 mainframe.

"So, who's this woman who wears the granny clothes?" Tash asks Harry, sharing a coffee with him in his office.

"What woman are you talking about?"

"Marianne …... the one whose place I took."

"That woman. She's …... she's the best intelligence analyst I've ever worked with," Harry replies, keeping a straight face. "Without her work, this country would no doubt have already descended into chaos."

"Good. I'd hate to think that I risked my life for some bit on the side of one of you lot." Tash then puts down her cup, and strides out of Harry's office. She has other fish to fry.

Harry, on the other hand, watches her as she leaves, shocked by her words. She knows, he thinks.

That evening – Friday:

Harry turns his car down the narrow lane between overhanging trees. At the end of this lane will be a safe house, one which MI-6 had used regularly, and were happy to turn over to MI-5 for the short term. Harry pulls his car up outside the front door, and steps out, stretching his back muscles, his fingers pressed into his back, while he breathes in the clean air. It is just after 7pm, and the sun has only just set. This is the time of twilight, a phenomena not experienced in a city like London, where it is artificial light which lights the night sky, so much so that the stars are mostly invisible. Here, there is a glow on the horizon where the sun has just set, and the whole sky seems to breathe gentle light. He loves it. All the trees and plants, the rocks and soil seem to give off an energy all of their own …... and he is a man who doesn't believe in using words like energy or aura to describe his environment.

The front door of the house opens, and Ruth stands in the doorway, a smile on her face. He strides to her, and slides his arms around her waist, his eyes on her face, checking that it is alright for him to touch her like that.

"Hold me, Harry," she murmurs into his ear, "just hold me close to you."

And he does. They stand in the doorway in a tight embrace, her head resting on his shoulder, while he rests his cheek against her hair. They each run their hands up and down the back of the other.

"I guess it's time for me to go," a deep male voice announces from behind Ruth. "I don't wish to get in your way."

Harry pulls away from Ruth so that he can shake the hand of the man who saved Ruth from a much, much worse fate than the one she'd already suffered. "Ruth and I thank you, Terrence. Your quick actions saved her from …..." He has no need to finish the sentence. The three of them know what he means.

"I wanted to kill him, you know," Terrence adds quietly. "Had Ruth not been there – so close, watching – I would have killed him. I wanted to. I still do."

Ruth turns from Harry, and hugs Terrence, who has to bend down to embrace her.

"You're so brave, you know that?" Terrence says, as he lifts his head to look at her. "You can be proud of her, Harry. She's one of the best."

"I already know that," Harry says quietly. He and Ruth stand close to one another while Terrence drives away.

"Hungry?" Ruth asks, looking into Harry's eyes.

"Very."

They are lying together in bed, and apart from them holding hands, their bodies are not touching. Despite them having longed to see the other after Ruth's ordeal, there is a distance between them which has nothing to do with their physical bodies. During dinner, Ruth had wanted to hear all the details of the operation to capture Mace's men. She'd chuckled at Harry's description of Tash Slaughter, and privately hoped that there were still some of her things she could collect from the flat in Rochester.

"I think that there are a couple of policewomen in charge of collecting your stuff," Harry had said, desperately trying to veer the conversation away from the assault on her.

Ruth has been aware of Harry's discomfort, and his desire that she shouldn't have to relive the attack on her, but she really needs to talk to him about it. She was almost raped, and had it not been for Terrence Dunne, she probably would have been.

"Harry," she says into the darkened room, "I need to talk about it. To you. You're the person with whom I most need to share this."

"I know, Ruth. It's just that I'm not sure I want to listen to it."

"I need to tell it, Harry, even if you don't want to hear what I say."

Harry, hearing the need in her voice, squeezes her hand, his indication that he is ready to listen.

They lay side-by-side, with only their hands touching, as Ruth talks about her last night on the boat. She tells Harry how lonely she'd been while she was there, unable to talk to anyone, unable to go to work, even though her job had been monotonous and uninspiring. She lists the books she'd read while she was there, and the book she'd been reading just before she'd noticed the man hurrying along the pontoon towards her.

"It was Harry Potter and the Order Of The Phoenix. A student had loaned it to me. I'd never read Harry Potter, and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I left it on the boat, so I'm going to have to buy her another copy. The police would have taken it, since it was in my hand when he knocked me out."

Then she tells him, with an absence of emotion, about her ordeal, and the assault which had almost ended with her being sexually assaulted. When she reaches the part where Terrence had untied her, and led her off the boat, and driven her to hospital, Harry lays his head back against his pillow and sighs heavily.

Ruth waits, but he doesn't say anything. She is aware of a strange mix of anger, frustration and fear rising from deep in her gut.

"Harry …... you have to talk to me. I have to know you still love me ….. despite what happened to me." Despite her panic, her voice is quiet.

"Of course I still love you. What makes you think I wouldn't?"

"Apart from when you first arrived, you've barely touched me. I don't know what to think."

Very slowly, realisation dawns for Harry, and he turns on his side to face her, lifting himself on to his elbow. "I've been too afraid to show you any affection …... in case …... you know …... I thought you might be traumatised."

"I imagine I have been, but I need you to want me."

"I ….. I was afraid that my ….. desire for you would re-traumatise you."

"Harry …..." Ruth reaches up to cradle his face in her hand. "Your desire for me is so totally different to what was driving Fred Jenner. I love it that you're sensitive to my ordeal, but the sight of your arousal is not going to traumatise me. I need you to want me." She reaches up to kiss him softly on the lips. "Do you understand?"

"I think so." Harry breathes out his relief.

"I have a bit of a headache from the blow to my head, but other than that, I'm still me. I need you, and I need you tonight."

"I don't want to hurt you," he says quietly, barely more than a whisper.

"You'll hurt me more if you turn the light out, and roll over and go to sleep."

In the end, it is Ruth who makes the first move, pushing her hands under his t-shirt, and lifting it over his head. Harry watches her as she kisses his skin from his throat down to his navel, and when she slides her hand inside his track pants and takes him in her hand, slowly massaging him to full arousal, he can no longer hold back. He pushes his track pants off using his feet, and then rolls on top of her, ready for her immediately …... except that Ruth is still wearing her pyjamas, warm flannelette ones with buttons down the front of the top.

"What made you wear these?" he asks, barely aware that her answer may not be what he wants to hear.

Ruth's silence causes him to pull back, resting his weight on one elbow. "Ruth …... talk to me."

Harry had turned on a small bedside light on his side of the bed, but the light from it barely reaches to the other side of the bed. He gazes at her face in the near-darkness, and sees the sheen of tears in her eyes. She takes a breath before speaking.

"I bought these new today …... on my way here. I made Terrence stop off on the way out of Gillingham."

"Didn't you have any pyjamas?"

"Not ones like these."

"You've lost me, Ruth."

She turns on her side to face him, her eyes still shining with unshed tears. "I was afraid, Harry."

"Of what?"

"That after what happened to me, you'd no longer find me desirable, and that you'd no longer want me. The pyjamas are my insurance."

"Insurance?"

"If you no longer wanted me, then I could explain it by wearing sexless pyjamas."

Jesus …... she's so complex, this woman. Not want her? What a ridiculous idea.

"Ruth," he says very gently, "the day I no longer want you will be the day I stop breathing, and you'll then have to arrange a funeral for me. I'd been afraid you wouldn't want sex because of your ordeal, and you've been afraid that I wouldn't want you after your ordeal. Could we perhaps coordinate our approaches?"

Harry rolls on to his back, aware that he is no longer sexually aroused. He's more frustrated and angry than anything, but he doesn't want Ruth knowing how much.

"Perhaps we both need to sleep right now," he says quietly, reaching to turn off the bedside light. "Goodnight, Ruth."

"Goodnight."

He considers kissing her goodnight, but he's too upset. It has been a trying day for them both, and their emotions are raw. Sex would have been good – wonderful even – but it's too late now. He reaches for her hand, but she's turned her back away from him. The thing which most bothers him is that he has no idea how to make things right.