Next morning, Harry awoke to feel the thudding in his head, and the clawing pain in his back and sides. He slid out of bed and went downstairs to take his pain killers, and while he was waiting for them to kick in, he drank a cup of tea. On the way back to bed, he visited the bathroom in his en suite to relieve himself, wash his hands, and then stare at his still-bruised face in the mirror. Whatever does Ruth see in this plain face? He climbed back into bed, and again wrapped himself around Ruth's back. She slept on.

In only a matter of minutes, he felt his body reacting to her proximity. He had not experienced any kind of sexual response since before he was abducted and beaten, so he viewed this as progress. Very gently, he pressed himself against Ruth, hoping she'd wake up and want to make love. It had been over a week since they had last had sex, and that was a long time.

Ruth was already awake, and she had felt him get back into bed, and push his body against her. His erection nestled against her buttocks. As much as she wanted him, she was sure that Harry's body wouldn't be able to sustain the rigours of love-making. Slowly, she turned to face him. His eyes were open, and he was looking at her with the same look he reserved for when he wanted her badly. She'd first seen that look in the corridor of the Havensworth Hotel, all those years ago, before she'd had to go into exile, and she'd seen it in his eyes again on her first night back in London, when he'd come back to her flat because he `couldn't stay away'. Ruth reached out and took his face in her hands. She pulled him closer to her, and kissed him. The kiss quickly became passionate, their tongues seeking the inner sanctum of the other's mouth. Harry ground his body against her, while he kissed her.

They had to eventually come up for air, so Ruth took advantage of that moment to quickly rid herself of her knickers and her camisole, and then she helped Harry remove his t-shirt, and his trunks. What next? He wouldn't be up for being on top, as that would stress his rib fractures.

"Lie on your back," she whispered, her mouth close to his. "I'll go on top."

There was no time for foreplay. They were both ready, and they had to quickly devise a way they could couple without Harry having to exert himself. Ruth climbed on top of him, watching his face for signs of discomfort or pain. She slid herself on to his erection, slowly, so as not to have him climax before they'd even begun. She steadied herself by putting her hands on the pillow each side of his head, while Harry's hands were occupied with her breasts. She reached down to kiss him, while she began moving on top of him. It was not her favourite position. She often got it wrong. One of her ex-boyfriends had even forbidden her to go on top, because he'd told her she was `really crap at it'.

Harry was easy to please. He liked sex …... no, he loved it, and he'd already told her more than once that he loved it with her. Hearing that was very good for her confidence in bed, something which had been battered by some of her past partners. Ruth watched her lover's face, as he gazed at her while she moved on top of him. Ruth became aware that Harry's thumbs were circling her nipples, and every now and again he'd scrape a fingernail across a nipple. This was sending shivers down her body to the place where she and Harry were joined.

Ruth felt him twitch inside her, and one quick look at his face told her he was only moments from coming. He grasped one of her nipples between two fingers, while his other hand reached for her clitoris. Harry was coming inside her – she could feel him, he was panting – and she was still about to …... and then she tipped over the edge just after him, breathing heavily against his shoulder, where she'd collapsed.

Moments later she heard him speak, his voice still raspy. "You'll have to get off me, Ruth. It …," and then he'd let out a cry of pain.

Quickly, Ruth lifted herself off Harry's body, and lay beside him, nestling her head against him. "Sorry," she said.

"Don't be." Harry reached across and kissed the top of her head. "That was wonderful. You were wonderful. It was just that when you lay on me, my ribs and chest -"

"I know. Perhaps we were a bit ambitious. Do you think?"

"I was horny, Ruth. I needed to either have a cold shower, or deal with it in a much more fun way."

"You're still not ready to go back to work."

"Ruth …... if I can do what we've just done, then surely I can handle a day on the Grid."

"Sex lasts 10 minutes, while a day on the Grid can be upwards of 12 hours."

"10 minutes! I doubt we made it to 3."

"Whatever. One fast shag doesn't a day on the Grid make. Besides, you have to go to the hospital today for your check up."

Harry groaned. "Do I have to?"

"Yes. You do."

Two weeks after Harry was abducted, he returned to the Grid full time. He'd already worked three days for a few hours each day, and he'd managed that well. He was off the analgesics, and apart from when he moved too quickly, or made love too vigorously, he felt well and fit and healthy. Ruth had been right. He had needed the break from work. He had needed the rest, and he and Ruth had needed the extra time together. They'd had a lot of catching up to do. They had settled into a routine of living between his house and her flat. They spent every evening and night together, and were essentially living together, but in two different houses.

At the end of his first full week back at work, he and Ruth had gone home to her flat. She had made a lasagna, and he had promised to provide the salad and the wine.

"You're quiet tonight, Ruth," Harry observed, noticing also that she was moving her lasagna around her plate with her fork, but hardly eating any.

She noticed him watching her faking eating. "I'm not terribly hungry tonight," she said.

"You hardly ate any lunch, Ruth. You need to eat."

"I know," she said absently, followed by, "How do you know?"

"How do I know what?"

"That I need to eat."

"Ruth ….. darling …... we all need to eat." That is when he stopped. He put down his own fork, and looked across the small table at her. "Ruth ….. do you have something you want to tell me?" Last night when they'd made love after they came home from work, her breasts had been so sore that she'd winced when he'd pinched her nipple, and pushed his hand away when he'd grasped her breast during foreplay. That was strange. And her eating. She ate a lot one moment, and then didn't eat a thing for hours. Except cheese. She was always eating cheese, and he suspected she was stashing it away and eating it on the sly. Perhaps that was why they had been having so many Italian meals.

Ruth stood up and went to her bag, which she'd left on one of the chairs in the living room. She took something from it, and then sat back on her chair at the table.

"I have something to show you, Harry. I've been really afraid to show you this."

She lifted the hand she had held under the table, and from it she lay on the table in front of him a small cylindrical device. He looked down at it, not sure at first what she was showing him.

"It's a pregnancy test, Harry. It's positive."

"This is yours?" he said, stuck for words.

"Yes, it's mine. What I've had difficulty saying to you is that in a little over eight months, you and I are to become parents."

"Christ!" he said, picking up the small tube, and examining it.

Ruth was beginning to feel upset, and tears were not far away. She swallowed her emotions, because she was also aware that she'd not given Harry any inkling that she'd suspected she was pregnant. After all, Harry had been in recovery for two weeks, and it was during this time that she suspected that she was carrying their child.

Harry eventually looked up at her, and saw the emotions she was trying hard to hold back. He realised how insensitive he was being, so he stood up, and walked around the table, to sit in the chair beside her, this woman whom he loved, and who was now carrying his child. He slid his arms around her, and pulled her head on to his shoulder.

"I'm really happy about this, Ruth. It's just a shock, that's all. You hadn't said anything. When do you think it might have happened?"

"Probably the first time we had sex. That first night I spent here, and you stayed over."

"Good," he said, pulling back to look at her. "That was a lovely night, Ruth, and the sex was …..."

"Rather good."

"Yes, it was. It was memorable, and now even more memorable."

"Are you happy about this, Harry?"

"Yes, of course I am. I'm just in shock because we hadn't even talked about it, and I hadn't expected to have any more children. That's not to say I hadn't entertained a fantasy or two about what a child of ours might be like."

"You have?"

"Of course. Haven't you?"

Ruth nodded, and it was then that the tears escaped, and rolled down her cheeks. "I'm happy, Harry. I don't know why I'm crying."

"These are tears of joy, Ruth," Harry said, as he brushed her tears away with his thumbs.

"And you're not mad at me?"

"Mad at you? Of course not. Why would I be mad at you. You didn't create this child on your own, Ruth. I had a part in making it."

As soon as they cleaned up after dinner, they went to bed. They lay in one another's arms, talking about this new twist in their life together. Ruth let Harry know how scared she'd been that he would not want her to keep the child, and he'd been shocked that she could even imagine he would contemplate such a thing. She confessed to him that she hadn't bothered with birth control, because a number of friends of hers in Athens, all of whom were her age or younger, had been trying to conceive and with no luck.

"Maybe it was the fault of their partners."

"Maybe," she replied. "We must be very fertile together, Harry. We'll have to engage in some pretty heavy-duty birth control if we want to avoid having a family of six."

"God forbid! I'll have a vasectomy, if that will make things easier."

"If you think you can bear the pain."

"If you can give birth to our child, then I'm sure I can handle a few snips."

They discussed what sex they each thought the baby would be – Harry was sure it was a boy, while Ruth was equally as sure it was a girl. They discussed possible names – Harry liked James for a boy and Molly for a girl, while Ruth liked Giselle for a girl, and she hadn't even considered a boy's name.

They made love gently and slowly, recognising that they had a long life ahead of them, with years in which to make love as often as they wished.

"I might have to take early retirement," Harry said quietly into her hair, once they had settled, ready for sleep.

"I won't try to stop you," she replied, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

"You want me to, don't you?"

"After the last three weeks, yes, I do. I can't lose you, Harry. I couldn't bear to lose you before, but now it's so much more important that you're with me. Every child needs a father."

"Yes. As usual, you're right."

As they drifted off to sleep in one another's arms, Ruth was thinking of her own father, taken from her too early, while Harry's mind wandered back to his own poor showing as a father to his two adult children. He was determined that with this child – his and Ruth's child – he would get it right. He'd been given a second chance.

.

A/N: Final chapter of this fic up next.