Chapter Four: Complications

Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter! Hope you enjoy this one just as much!

Mild language used.

X

Harry woke up and, as his eyes got accustomed to the light of the room, realised who he was lying beside. Juliet Shaw lay next to him, her midnight black hair splayed across the pillows. She looked beautiful. He placed an arm around her and kissed her shoulder, burying his head in her hair. The light of Cologne came into the bedroom as the sun rose, illuminating the two lovers. Harry could not imagine a more perfect scene.

"Good morning," he whispered, kissing her ear. She stirred and smiled as she realised who was talking.

Juliet turned around to face him, tracing his face with her fingers. It was a surprise to both of them the affection they felt for each other rather than just a sexual need. Their first time had been short and sweet, with Harry not staying the night. After that, they had slept in the same bed the whole night, and even…made love. It was a curious situation with even more curious feelings.

"I've got to get to work," he murmured, kissing her on the mouth this time, and pulled open the covers to get dressed. He smiled at her from the doorway before leaving, the sight before him burned into his memory as it always was.

X

"What do we have boys?" Harry asked as he joined his bomb experts, Howard, Roupell and Price. They were the only ones who had any sense of what his operation entailed, he hadn't even told Juliet. They weren't that close yet, although the way things were heading it wouldn't be soon.

"Thomas Bergen talking to his wife. CIA want a word with the field officer in the area, they're pretty ticked off boss," replied Howard from the window, the click of the camera shutter adding soundtrack to his words.

Harry gave a curt nod and went to the table where he grabbed a cup of coffee and proceeded to look over the request from the CIA. It was three weeks into Omega, and so far it was going well. They had quadrupled the circulation of the far right newsletter, something that Oliver had suggested they do instead of sowing the seeds of doubt. Harry had used his idea, and it had worked rather well.

There had also been a low level bombing campaign against soft government and corporate targets in Cologne that they had managed to pin on the RAF. That was where the three boys came in, and they were very good at their job. One of Harry's proudest attempts was a failed assassination on Alexander Haig, the commander of the Nato Forces. He hadn't stopped smiling for three days when they had managed to pull that off.

Their next target was Minister for the Interior, Thomas Bergen. Another failed assassination attempt would secure public outcry for the heads of the RAF. Then Harry could go home. But home where? Juliet or Jane? At least in Cologne he had the option of not seeing memories of Jane everywhere he turned, and he could concentrate on Juliet when they were together. He didn't know where his heart lay anymore, something that terrified him. Things would have to be addressed soon, but being a coward he decided to put it off for another day.

"Is everything set up for next week?"

"The decoy car will be set with explosives which will go off in front of the media. Bergen will be in the real car, not the decoy and he will be scared shitless."

"Beautiful work boys, absolutely beautiful."

Price smiled to Roupell as Howard continued to take pictures. Harry sipped his coffee, slightly worried what he was going to tell the Americans when they came calling about Haig. Lying was always good, but he was in a creative mood. Two hours before they came to see him. Wonder what I can come up with, thought Harry as he started writing notes on a pad of paper.

X

Harry could remember exactly where he was when he got the news. Juliet was back in Cologne for the week, and they were going to the theatre that night. Their little dalliances must have been the worst kept secret in the security services, but Delilah wouldn't spill if she wanted to keep her job and Oliver was a friend. He was buying her roses, deep red that would match the crimson dress he knew she was likely to wear. It was her favourite colour, one that looked stunning on her.

It was Price; they must have debated who would be the one to call him, maybe even pulled straws. He had received a message that someone wanted to talk to him, so he went to the pay phone outside of the florists.

"Pearce." They were beautiful roses; she would put them in some form of water before they kissed. Or she would throw them to the floor as they collided with each other in a moment of pure passion. Either scenario he found acceptable and wanting.

"It's Price. There's a problem…something happened with Bergen."

Nothing could ruin the moment; he was going to see Juliet later that day. It would be perfect, nothing could harm that perfection. He watched outside as the sales assistant wrapped the roses delicately.

That's when he saw the television in the electronics shop two doors down. He watched as Bergen stepped into the decoy car, and Harry couldn't help muttering for him to come to his senses and go around to his proper car. Everything was in slow motion, he couldn't breathe. The car exploded, his doing, his orders. He had just executed a man. A newsreader was talking, as was Price but he couldn't concentrate.

"Pearce? Pearce are you there?"

"Thank you Price."

The flowers turned from the colour of lust and love to the stain of blood. He felt bile rise up in the back of his throat and he didn't know what to do. He had taken the lives of men before, as a soldier, and then as an officer of the Security Services. But Bergen had been caught in the crossfire of dirty tricks. No one got killed in dirty tricks, hurt and scarred, but never killed.

Stepping outside the flower shop, he realised that he needed to see Jane. Hold her, smell her hair, return to the normality of their London home with burnt pasta on the stove and playing chess on a Sunday afternoon. Harry began to cry, tears of fury and anger and hatred and disgust and loathing. His skin felt tainted with the smell of blood, the smell of lust. He was covered in it.

He walked for what seemed like hours before finally making his way to Juliet's hotel room. The flowers clutched in his hand were still pristine, more than what could be said for the holder. His hair was unkempt, his face haunted. Light rain had made his jacket soggy to the touch. He needed comfort; he needed someone to turn to. Something in him made him feel like that person was Juliet. Another part of him wanted him to run as far as he could and go home to Jane.

"Come in!"

Harry opened the door and saw Juliet standing in all her splendour. She was dressed in a longer crimson dress than he thought she would wear, but it showed off her long legs. She was screwing in her earrings when he entered, and the smile she gave him could light the whole of Cologne.

"Harry! Are those for me, you shouldn't have!" She walked over and took the flowers, kissing him on the cheek. It was only then she noticed the hollow look in his eyes. Stepping down from standing on tiptoe to kiss him, she reached out and stroked his face gently. He closed his eyes and leant into her touch. "Harry…what's going on?"

His eyes were still closed when he talked to her, and she moved closer to him, giving him a warmth that touched his heart. He told her all about Omega, everything that he knew, everything about Bergen. When he finally opened his eyes, she was there. He had hoped that she would be there and she was. There for him.

"Oh Harry," she exclaimed, and she held him close. He kissed her neck; happy of the comfort and the resolution she had created for him. All his fears, all his doubts were gone. He knew the truth now, and was ever happier for it.

"I love you," he whispered into her skin, loud enough for them both to hear. Loud enough to know that the stiffness he felt from her was not accidental. She stepped away from his embrace and he felt her touch and eyes turn to ice. His happiness was short lived thanks to the look in her face. Her touch burned him.

There was no love there, no love returned. There was no future for the two of them, no married spooks living a life together. He would go back home to Jane, to his wife and they would be happy. They would have a child, children and be happy for it. But his job would be between them. Always, never a common factor but an opposing one. Harry would work past his feelings for Juliet, ignore her if he had to, shun her if need be. He was an MI5 officer, masking his feelings was part of the job description. His gaze turned to molten fire as he turned his back on Juliet and stepped out of the door. He did not hear the words that she spoke as he left her sight, nor did his heart ever want him to.

"I love you Harry Pearce."

Juliet Shaw realised that if she were to survive the service, she would need to be empty and emotionless. Feelings were of no consequence; they were a human failing she would move on from. Love for Harry was something that she had to live without, even if it meant giving up the respect she had from him as well.

X

As he walked through the airport and onto British soil, Harry felt the happiest he had been for a long time. He was going to see Jane, his Jane. Not Juliet, Jane. His love, his only love.

He had never been debriefed over the Omega situation; things had been blamed on the RAF and that was that. Harry had been allowed to go home, finally. He was going to a Rugby game with Oliver next Sunday, something he was looking forward to. Harry needed to catch up on all the television he had missed and all the things going on with Jane as well.

He made it to his door, and realised that he had left his key at MI5 to make sure it didn't get lost in Cologne. There was no need for it there. Knocking gently on the door, he waited earnestly with a bunch of Jane's favourite flowers, tulips, yellow ones. She finally opened the door. She looked well, extremely happy to have her husband back. But it wasn't her smiling face that took his attention. It was the rounded bump on her stomach.

"Jane?"

"Welcome home Harry," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. He drew her close and kissed her passionately. They then went inside and she told him all about the pregnancy, how far along she was, how hard the baby had been kicking. They spent the night talking and crying and praying for the future. It was only in the dead of night with Jane sleeping next to him holding her pregnant stomach that he thought of Juliet and her midnight black hair on the pillow next to him. It was only in the dead of night that he felt the stabbing of guilt and betrayal as he lay next to his wife and unborn child.

It was only in the dead of night that Harry realised that he would never have the life he wanted with the woman next to him.