At the words, `this woman, Stephanie Hoff, is the same woman with whom I was having sex for almost a year and a half', Ruth pulled out of Harry's embrace and concentrated on the almost empty bottle of wine on the table. Harry let his hands drop into his lap. He felt bereft. This could spell the end of them, and they'd only just begun. It had been such a wonderful twenty-four hours, and now they would be split apart by his need for some uncomplicated sex. Bloody hell! What was wrong with him? He turned, expecting to see hurt on Ruth's face.

"I didn't know who she was when we were …... She told me her name was Carol Klein, and I believed her, because when I checked her details, there was a Carol Klein living at that address, and she came up clean."

Ruth turned to look at him at last, and her face showed concern for him, and that surprised him. "Did she ever tell you what she did for a living? Did she know what you did?"

"No. I had no idea what she did, and I thought she knew nothing about me. We didn't talk, Ruth, we just …... fucked …... and it wasn't meaningful sex, it was just …... it was just release for me. At the time, I thought I'd never see you again." Harry's voice petered out, as he recognised he may have sounded like he was trying to justify his actions.

Suddenly, Ruth put out her hand, and cupped his jaw, turning him to face her.

"You don't have to explain it to me, Harry. When you were …... shagging this woman, I was far away. I have no reason to judge you or lay blame at your door. You were alone, lonely, and you were in need of comfort. I can understand that. She was available, and she made no demands on you. I am not jealous of her – why would I be? - and I'm in no position to be judging your actions. After all, I tried to forget you by forming a relationship with a man in Cyprus. That didn't work very well for me, either. Harry, I know you had no feelings for her, but now you feel guilty because your …... liaison with this woman may have led to Lucas' death."

"Yes," he whispered, and he grasped the hand she held against his face, and kissed her palm. "I don't deserve you, Ruth."

Ruth reached up to him, and pulled his face down to her own. She kissed him deeply, her tongue on his lips encouraging his own mouth to open under hers. Before too long, Ruth's hands were under his shirt, and her fingertips were setting small fires against the skin of his stomach and chest. He had pulled off her jumper and was undoing her shirt buttons when she said the word, `bedroom', so they rose from the sofa, and continued their exploration while lying on the bed.

Unlike the night before, they undressed slowly, taking their time to kiss and caress the skin of the other as gradually more skin was uncovered. When she'd opened the last of Harry's shirt buttons, Ruth revelled in planting kisses all down his chest and stomach to the top of his trousers, while in turn, Harry's mouth was busily exploring her neck and shoulders. When he unclasped her bra – one-handed, too – he gasped as her breasts were revealed. "God, you're beautiful!" he said, before his hands and mouth became busy with giving them attention. Ruth ran her fingers through his hair, much longer now than before she left London. As he was busy with her breasts, she planted intermittent kisses on the top of his head. His Harry-smell was strong on his scalp …... a mixture of his shampoo, cologne, and his natural body odour. She wished she could bottle his scent and carry it with her for the times when he was away from her.

They left their underwear until last, akin to saving the best gift to open last. He pulled her knickers off her slowly, kissing her skin as it was revealed. Ruth experienced her first climax while he was kissing her between her legs. She was sure his tongue had magical powers.

"Your turn now," she said, pushing him on to his back, while she ever-so-slowly removed his trunks, and slid them down his legs. Ruth was about to take him in her mouth when he covered himself with his hand.

"If you do that now, Ruth, it will be all over in seconds. I don't know about you, but I'm ready."

Sensing a change in dynamic between them, Ruth pushed him on to his back, and lifted herself so that she straddled his body. She knew that the heat from between her legs would bring him straight to climax were she to sit directly over him, so she sat herself over the lower part of his belly, and leaned over him so that her breasts were close to his mouth. She closed her eyes as he took each breast in his mouth. His erection was hard against her buttocks, so very slowly and carefully, she lifted herself off his belly, and lowered herself on to his erection. Very slowly. He groaned against her skin as he lifted his pelvis to push himself inside her further.

But she was the one in control, so she adjusted her body so that he was fully inside her, and then she lay against his chest, straightened and closed her legs, so that she held him tightly. She lifted her pelvis up and down, slowly at first, but when she heard Harry's breathing becoming rapid and shallow, she sped up her movement. He climaxed quickly, breathing out heavily next to her ear.

"Sit up, Ruth," he managed to say, and so she did, still with him inside her.

Harry reached down and circled his thumb over and around her clitoris until she exploded with an intense orgasm. She collapsed on top of him, and they lay together, exhausted, until they began to feel cold. When she felt his flaccid penis slip out of her, Ruth rolled off his body, and lay beside him, his arm curved around her to keep her close, while he pulled the duvet over them to cover them.

"I'm so relieved that you know where to find the clitoris, Harry. I think they should teach it in schools, beginning in about Year 10."

Harry chuckled against her hair, pulling her closer. "There are some advantages to having once been a serial womaniser."

They slept until early in the morning, when they both had to get up and get ready for work. Harry had brought with him a spare set of clothes for work, so when they left Ruth's flat at a little after 6.30 am, they were about to drive into Thames House together. Ruth was no longer worried that there may be gossip about them arriving together. She had left that Ruth in Cyprus. George's criticism and taunting of her when she refused to have his child had taught her to take the words of others with a pinch of salt. Teasing, taunting, harsh words all rolled off her, never again to hurt her.

It was still dark as they walked down the path to Harry's car, and he opened the passenger door for her to climb in. What neither saw was a man standing in a darkened doorway diagonally across the road from Ruth's flat. He wore a heavy coat, and his attention was apparently on the road itself, as though he were waiting for someone to pick him up, while out the corner of his eye, he watched the couple drive away together.

It took less than a day for Ruth to get back into her stride. Much of that time was spent in acquainting herself with her colleagues, people whom she needed to trust, such was the nature of their work. She saw little of Harry, but when he returned from a meeting with the Home Secretary, he looked across the Grid, and seeing her eyes on him, he gave a her a wide smile. Ruth felt a warm flush course through her body. She found it hard to believe that only three days previously she'd still been in Athens, wondering whether Harry would still be interested in her, now that he had `moved on'. She could not, even in her most imaginative of dreams, have believed that what would happen between them would have brought them this close in such a short space of time. She watched him walk into his office. Through the big window her eyes followed him as he took off his coat, hung it up, and then sat down behind his desk. He looked up to see her watching him. He picked up his phone and called her on her mobile.

"Do you want to take a break for lunch? With me?" he said.

"I shouldn't. I have so much work to do. Tariq and I are trying to trace Stephanie Hoff's movements, and he's having difficulty hacking her phone. It seems she has -"

"Bugger Tariq. Bugger Stephanie Hoff, and for the next hour, bugger her phone. I miss you. I'll meet you on the embankment in thirty minutes. I'll buy us some sandwiches. What would you like?"

"Anything, so long as there are no pickles. I don't like pickles."

"I can do that. I'll see you in half an hour."

Thirty-three minutes later, Ruth sat down on the bench next to Harry. She kept a little distance between them until he reached out and put his arm around her, and pulled her closer.

"What's the point in going out for lunch if we can't enjoy a little snog while we're at it?" He reached across and gently kissed her. He was such a good kisser. His lips were soft and warm and comforting.

"Do you think any of our colleagues know what's happening between us?"

"I'm sure they all know, Ruth. Patsy in Six has been here since before Moses was born, and she knew about us back when we went out to dinner."

"How?"

"She and Malcolm were like that," he said, hooking together his index and middle fingers. "They gossiped a lot, so Pats knows more about our history than we ourselves know."

"It's such an incestuous place," Ruth commented.

"All workplaces are like that. It's just what people do. It doesn't mean anything."

They ate their sandwiches in silence, occasionally making noises of pleasure.

"This turkey salad sandwich is really good," Harry commented.

"Why didn't you get me one of those?"

"It has pickles."

"So you could have asked them to hold the pickles …... isn't that what the cousins say?"

"I believe so, Ruth."

"Listen to us ….. we sound like an old married couple. Talking about inane stuff like the food."

Harry turned then, and looked at her. "You do know that I've always seen us married. That's what I saw for us back at the time you had to leave."

"I was just making a joke, Harry."

"But I'm not. I'm serious about this."

"Harry, we've been sleeping together for two days, and we still have yet to live together. I'm still adjusting to the climate, the job, being free again, being Ruth again, and having you in my life. Adding marriage to the mix is just one factor too many at present. Can we talk about it again in …... oh …... six months or so?"

He smiled at her, and reached across to give her a quick kiss.

Around eighty yards further down the embankment, a man in a clown suit lifted his camera, and took a series of quick photographs. By design, in the centre of his photos of the Houses Of Parliament a couple sat on a bench beside the Thames, kissing and then pulling apart and smiling at one another.

Despite the long days, Ruth's first week back on the Grid passed rather quickly. Harry had a meeting at Whitehall on Friday afternoon, and so had little idea when he'd be home, so Ruth travelled back to her flat by bus. They had spent every night together in her flat, eating together, bathing together, and they slept together each night, and woke up together each morning. Harry had been right. It was like being married, and despite her misgivings, Ruth was enjoying having Harry to herself out of hours.

There was still a lot they didn't know about the reasons Lucas North had been led to his death. The Chinese triads were not the real culprits, despite them being the ones who pulled the trigger to shoot him. It was too convenient to blame them. Tariq had some ideas, but Ruth was not so sure. They disagreed about the possible involvement of the CIA. Ruth was sure that Stephanie Hoff was the key to it all, and when they uncovered her involvement, and found a connection between her and the weapon itself, the rest would fall into place. Unfortunately for Ruth's theory, Gunther Hoff had disappeared from the face of the planet.

On Friday night, Ruth went to bed alone, not yet concerned that Harry had not arrived home. It was possible that he was so tired that he had chosen to go straight to his house to sleep, and that she would see him on the Grid in the morning. When Ruth awoke at 6 am, there was still no sign of Harry, and when she rang his mobile, it went straight to voicemail. Arriving on the Grid at 7.30, Erin walked straight up to her and asked her whether she knew of Harry's whereabouts. It was then that Ruth began to feel a knot of fear in her stomach. It was not like Harry to simply go dark without warning those who worked with him. It was not like Harry to disappear without telling Ruth. He wouldn't have done that before they were in a relationship, so he was even less likely to do that now.

"I've sent Dimitri around to Harry's house, and there's no-one home. His neighbours – one on each side – have said he's not been home for a few days."

Ruth felt her face redden, and she stuttered her explanation, remnants of her life from five years earlier emerging. "He's been living with me since I got home. We're ….."

"It's clear you're in a relationship, Ruth," Erin said matter-of-factly. "I hadn't known he was staying with you. I assumed you'd be living with him." Erin just as matter-of-factly changed direction. "Tariq has been trying his mobile number for an hour now. It keeps -"

"Going to voicemail. I know," said Ruth. "When was he last seen? I haven't seen him since I left to have lunch at one o'clock yesterday. I asked him to have lunch with me, but he was too busy."

"Tariq," Erin called across to the young techie, "when did you last see Harry?"

"He had a meeting at Whitehall beginning at 3. I checked there ten minutes ago, and he never turned up."

"How was he getting there?"

"The weather was fine yesterday," said Ruth, "and he told me he was planning to walk, and perhaps call his driver to take him home after the meeting."

"So," said Tariq, joining Ruth and Erin by Ruth's desk, "he disappeared somewhere between here and Whitehall. I was here when he left. I should be able to check his time of leaving with the front desk."

"I'll do that," Ruth replied, relieved to have something to do other than worry. Ruth knew that to worry about Harry's safety at this early stage was not productive, but she couldn't help it. She loved him, and didn't want to lose him so soon after they'd found one another again. She knew that within her wild imagination, she was galloping off in the direction of having to identify Harry's battered body, and then having to choose someone to deliver the eulogy at his funeral. Not useful, Ruth!

Suddenly, she remembered something very, very important.