A/N: This chapter is set in Ep 8.08, but due to the complex nature of the episode, and the story-line I'd created for H & R, I have heavily edited the events leading up to the bombing of the hotel.

Two weeks later – Harry's & Ruth's house – 6.42 am:

"You do remember that my first trimester ultrasound is today?"

"It's in my diary, and I've set my phone's alarm to 3 pm. I'll be there."

"Even if nuclear war breaks out?"

"Even then, Ruth." Harry stepped out of the en suite bathroom, where he'd been knotting his tie in front of the mirror. He stepped next to the bed where Ruth still languished against the pillows. He found himself wondering if cancelling his breakfast meeting with Andrew Lawrence would be such a breach of protocol. Ruth was naked under the duvet, her eyes were – well – inviting, and her face had that sleepy, drowsy, slow look, the one she woke up with, the one which drove him crazy. Then there was her body …... oh, her body called to him. In the mornings it was soft and warm and curvy and wet – where it should be wet – and her lower abdomen was just beginning to show signs that a baby – his baby, their baby – was growing inside her. He wanted – no, longed – to tear off his clothes, climb in beside her, and grind himself into her. He wanted to lose himself inside her.

"Harry, you have a meeting in a half hour." She knew that look. She'd seen it often enough. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

Then she slid out of bed, still naked, of course, and stepped right up to him. He could feel the warmth of her body through his clothing, and he stifled a gasp. The fact that they had made love at midnight, after a long and difficult day on the Grid, meant little. He wanted her now. She grasped his tie in one hand and drew his face down to her.

"Ruth ….." was all he managed to say before she kissed him.

"That's a goodbye kiss, Harry. That kiss said: I'll see you at work, and don't forget the hospital appointment at 3.30."

"Or you'll divorce me if I do?"

"No, darling, I would never threaten you with that. By marrying you I committed myself to being with you for life. I am not about to play around with that commitment. It means everything to me, as I hope it does to you."

She let go of his tie, then stepped around him on her way to the bathroom. She was in the doorway to the bathroom when she turned around. "This will be the third time I've had to reschedule this scan, Harry, owing to emergencies of the kind which threaten world peace. I have no intention of rescheduling again. The centre of London could be under attack from Al Quaida, the Taliban, and a bunch of northern football hooligans armed with broken bottles and molotov cocktails, and we'll be at the hospital, having that scan, as planned."

She then entered the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Harry sighed heavily, realising that he had almost given in to his baser instincts. Women were definitely the stronger sex, of that he was certain.

He was worried. Later that day the Presidents of both India and Pakistan, as well as the US Secretary of State, were meeting in an attempt to prevent full scale conflict between the two countries of the sub continent. Ruth could not have scheduled a more tense day for her scan, but he would be there, no matter what. He had faith in Ros and Lucas, and of course, Tariq. The talks would go ahead without interference from Nightingale, and they would succeed. He had to believe that.

The Grid – 12.13 pm:

Ruth walked past Tariq's desk to see him following the news reports on News 24. She hovered by his desk, conscious that his pensive look may hide so much more.

"I have family in Pakistan," Tariq said. "My cousin lives in Lahore."

He then set in motion on his computer the graphical representation of a nuclear blast over Lahore. Ruth, looking over his shoulder, saw the whole of the middle of Lahore turn black. Tariq looked up at her, needing to say no more to drive the point home.

"Don't lose faith, Tariq," she said. "The talks later today will sort this out. I'm sure of it. We have to believe they will."

As she walked away, Ruth wasn't at all sure of it. More than that, she wasn't at all sure that Harry's and her decision to bring a child into the world at this time was such a good idea. The world seemed to be crumbling all around her, and there was nothing she could do about it. Another more demanding thought crept in. When she and Harry were safely ensconced in the cottage in North Yorkshire, Nightingale were already forming and planning their drive to restructure the world, and so ensure a world order which suited certain factions in the West and in China. Perhaps she and Harry had been better off in ignorance of this. When they were aware of the threats, they gave everything they had to prevent them being carried out. When unaware of such threats they were happy in their ignorance.

St Thomas' Hospital – 3.27 pm:

Ruth had prepared herself to have to experience this, the first ultrasound of their child, on her own. As much as she wanted him there, she'd expected Harry to have been caught up with the security at the hotel where the talks were being held. As she turned into the corridor which led to Maternity Outpatients, there he was, sitting alone and looking decidedly uncomfortable amongst the women in various stages of pregnancy, with crawling babies and toddlers milling around them noisily. Ruth momentarily stopped and watched him, this man who had committed himself to her, and now to their unborn child. He was leaning forward in the narrow plastic chair against the wall, his elbows on his knees, with his hands loosely linked between them. He appeared to be watching a baby girl who sat on a blanket not far from where he sat. The baby was staring at him with wide blue eyes, and he was making faces at her, trying to make a connection. He was trying so hard, but the baby was looking at him with an expression which teetered between astonishment and tears.

Ruth quietly sat down beside her husband. "Glad to see you're making friends," she said quietly.

Harry turned to her and took her hand and lifted it to his lips, his eyes holding hers. As he performed that small gesture of love, Ruth noticed the eyes of several other mothers watching them, some with envy, and others with a smile of knowing. Ruth was only one of two women who were accompanied by a male partner.

"That kid is a tough audience," Harry said at last, referring to the baby girl on the blanket.

"She's obviously used to a higher class of interaction. Maybe you should have tried communicating with her in binary code."

"You spend too much time around Tariq, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry if I kept you waiting," Ruth added.

"You're not late, Ruth. I was early. I was determined to not miss this. I just hope that the talks go through without a hitch."

"Sorry - can we just not think about the talks for the next half hour or so?"

Harry nodded, reaching across to again take her hand in his. While they sat waiting in silence, Ruth felt his thumb slowly and gently caressing the back of her hand. She found the gesture at once reassuring and arousing. It helped allay any nervousness she felt about what the scan may reveal. They only had to wait another fifteen minutes.

"Mrs Pearce?" a voice called. When both Harry and Ruth stood, the woman smiled. "And?" she added, looking at Harry.

"I'm Ruth's husband," he said, shaking her hand.

"I'm Caroline," the woman said, "and I'll be performing your ultrasound."

Harry sat beside the bed and held Ruth's hand. Ruth didn't need him to hold her hand, but she suspected he was far more nervous than she, and it was he who needed reassurance. The gel was still cold on Ruth's stomach, but what was showing up on the screen had the total attention of she and Harry. From the physical examination, Caroline had determined that Ruth was twelve weeks pregnant.

"There's definitely a baby in there," said Caroline, "so you can discount wind."

Ruth suspected that this was one of Caroline's regular lines, something she said to put at ease her new mothers-to-be.

"There's the amniotic sac," Caroline continued, "and there …... is the baby's heart beating away. It's a strong and steady heartbeat."

Harry squeezed Ruth's hand tightly, and she turned to look at him, her eyes full with tears.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" he asked her.

"It's just the hormones, Harry. I cry at everything these days."

"But this is something worth crying about," he added.

"We can safely say there's only one baby in there," Caroline continued, "and it looks like it's a good size, quite active and healthy."

"When can the sex of the baby be determined?" asked Harry.

"In the second trimester. At the next scan we'll be able to discover that, and I can tell you if you like, or you can decide you'd rather not know that in advance."

Harry and Ruth looked at one another, an unspoken decision to discuss that option some time soon, along with choosing possible names for their child.

"And one more thing," added Caroline. "I'll print out a picture of the scan if you like. Your first picture of baby."

"Can we have two?" asked Ruth. "One for each of us. It's just that Harry has a very responsible and stressful job, and he might want to carry a picture of his child with him at all times. Just to remind him of why he does what he does."

"Of course, Mrs Pearce, I'll be glad to."

As the scans were printing, Harry and Ruth exchanged a look of pure love, and then Harry bent towards Ruth and kissed her. This was why they did what they did each day, fighting the good fight.

Outside in the corridor, Harry had only just secreted the picture of the scan in an inside pocket of his jacket when his text message tone sounded. He read the text as they walked back down the corridor towards the hospital entrance.

"Christ!" he said to himself. "We're both needed at the Grid, Ruth. I have my driver waiting. You'll have to come with me. The Indian delegation have suspended the talks and gone back to their own hotel. I don't like the sound of this. Something is wrong."

Ruth didn't argue with that, not like she had before, when their relationship was tentative and undefined. She was tired, and sitting in the comfort of the chauffeur driven car with her husband, even if only for the twenty minutes it would take to get back to Thames House, sounded like a good way to be getting back to work.

When they arrived back, there was activity on the Grid. Discovering that the only member of the Indian delegation to still be in the hotel in which the talks were taking place was an Indian political analyst, Harry directed Ros to go to the hotel to find out more.

When, an hour later, it was clear that a bomb had been set somewhere in the hotel, and that the Pakistani President and the British Home Secretary were inside the hotel, as were Lucas and Ros, Harry made the decision to go to the hotel himself, chiefly to bring a coordinated presence to the security. Ruth felt her heart rate increase as mild panic set in. She wanted to say to him: Look at the scan of your growing child, Harry. Do you want to be there to see him/her grow up?

"Harry, you can't do this," was all she said.

"I have to," he said. "Someone has to take charge down there."

Their eyes met as he entered the pods. Hers were wide with fear, and his were set and determined. In this mood, Harry was immoveable.

Fifteen minutes later Harry rang from his car asking Ruth to get hold of the PM, so that he could contact the US President. The heads of state of the US and UK, along with the Chinese, were the only chance to bring a halt to the potential for a terror attack on the hotel. With no coordinated security presence at the hotel, orders needed to be given from higher up.

Ruth and Tariq watched the news feed feeling fearful and helpless. Ruth was no longer worried that Harry would put himself in danger. He would not go bounding into a hotel which had been wired with enough explosives to destroy most of it. He had so much to live for. He had one and a half people who depended upon him totally. Tariq, on the other hand, was concerned about family members living in Pakistan should conflict break out there. It was when the news feed showed the hotel exploding in flame that Ruth put a hand to her mouth. Last she'd heard from Harry, he'd told her that Ros was still inside.

Ruth resisted the urge to call Harry. She knew that when he was free, when he was ready, calling her would be top of his list of things to do. She kept busy. Intel was flowing fast, but much of it was contradictory, given that the facts from the bombing were still unclear. Eventually her mobile rang, Harry's name coming up on the screen.

"We lost Ros," he said quietly.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry."

"She was inside trying to get the Home Secretary out. He'd been drugged. We lost him also."

"And Russell Price? Where is he?"

"He was inside. He was killed by his own bomb. Poetic justice."

"What happens now, Harry?"

"I'll have to stay here for a while, at least until the media pack up and move on to something else."

"Do you want me to come over there? I can hold your hand, or at the very least, keep you company."

"No, Ruth. You go home. Get some rest. Look after our baby." She heard the smile in his voice.

"Harry …... if you, when you feel bad about things, just look at the photograph of the scan."

"I know, Ruth. I remember. I have to go. Someone with a microphone is gesturing to me."

"I love you, Harry."

"And I love you," he said quietly before he rang off.

Ten days later, she and Harry, and Tariq and Lucas attended a memorial service for Ros. It was a quiet and sober affair. Death is always sobering, especially when someone dies before their time. After the service, Harry and Ruth took a walk together in the church grounds.

"I need to talk to you about something," Harry said as they walked.

"I've been thinking also," replied Ruth.

Ruth stopped near a fence, and Harry stood close beside her, his arm around her waist, his face close to hers. "I'm thinking of retiring," he said quietly. "Ros was too young to die, and I can't help thinking that I may have already dodged my full quota of bullets. I don't want the next funeral you attend to be mine. And I can't play it safe just because I'm about to become a father again. I need to make a fundamental life change."

Ruth stared ahead of her, taking in what he'd just said. On the one hand, she would be overjoyed were Harry to retire from the security services. For years she had been afraid of something happening to him. On the other hand, she knew how much his job meant to him, and she didn't wish to be the cause of him letting go of something he loved.

"I can't continue to do to you what happened the day of the bombing."

Ruth turned to look at him, her face questioning.

"I know you were upset about me going to the hotel on the day of the bombing. Ruth, your face said it all. But you must know that I couldn't stay on the Grid – safe – while two of my best officers were inside the building and comms were down. Sometimes I have no choice in what I do, and that's what bothers me. My job isn't a safe one. I'm lucky to have lived this long."

"Harry, I understand what you're saying. I'll support whatever you decide, but don't make your decision yet. You're still upset about Ros. Give it a few months. Wait until the baby's born." She waited in silence before she said what no-one has been brave enough to say. "Ros's death isn't your fault, Harry. She had time to get out of the building before ... she knew what she was doing."

Suddenly, Harry put both arms around her and drew her close to him. "What would I do without you, Ruth?"

"Can you remember saying that the day I went away?" she said, her lips against his neck. "The day I went into exile."

"Yes. I meant it then, too, and if you rely on me only half as much as I rely on you, then it would be selfish of me to continue doing this job."

They held one another for some time.

"Thank you," he said at last. They both understood what he meant.

Then they walked back to the car hand-in-hand.