Six:
Steps in the Right Direction

The woman who was handling their time at Harry Winston smiled. "I'm Liz," she said cheerfully, offering her hand first to Catherine, then to Harry. "You must be Catherine Grey and…"

"My father," Catherine interjected. "Sir Harry Pearce. He's going to be my guest at the Emmys. Aren't you, dad?"

"Ah… yes," Harry said with a wan smile.

"So you're here today to pick some loaner jewels to go with your gown," Liz said cheerfully. "Shall we also look at a watch and cufflinks for your father?"

"Oh, yes," Catherine agreed excitedly. "And also, he needs to see about an engagement ring for my future mum-in-law."

Harry knew it would only go downhill from there; good thing he'd brought his black credit card. There were a few perks to being retired from MI-5.

He patiently advised Catherine on her jewelry, then chose a simple pair of platinum cufflinks for himself and a stylish watch. Their items were set aside with names on, and Liz turned back to them with a brilliant smile as she went straight into show-person mode.

Harry just held up a hand and said, "No, let's just let me look for the ring. I'll know the right one when I see it."

Liz's smile faded slightly. "Ah, you're one of those," she said.

Harry chuckled. "Yes, unfortunately," he acknowledged.

"He is," Catherine agreed.

"So, Mr. Pearce, may I ask what your fiancée does for a living?" Liz inquired.

"She's in public relations," Harry said vaguely, peering down into the showcase. Everything was sparkly and overwhelmingly… he didn't want to say middle class, because each ring was probably worth more than his new bloody car, but they were all very… not Ruth.

His gaze finally alit on something, and he pointed. "That one," he said simply. "Do you have it in a five? I'll take it immediately if you do."

"The emerald cut with –"

"Yes, yes, that's the one," Harry said firmly. "And I shall need a wedding band to go with it, same size."

"Those will be in this next case," Liz said. "While you look, I'll see if we have the Tryst in a five."

Harry glanced over the wedding bands and smiled. When Liz came back, he pointed out the one he wanted, and she went back into the vault.

By the time they left, Catherine was boggling at the sheer amount of money her father had just spent. Harry didn't care. He had Ruth's engagement ring, wedding band, and a beautiful pair of earrings from the vintage collection in hand; it was well worth the money spent if Ruth loved them.

"You know," Catherine said as they drove back over the Hill on Laurel Canyon Drive, "I am happy for you. Both of you. But it was such a shock, dad. Couldn't you have said something maybe to… I don't know, prepare us?"

"No," Harry said, "because it's all been happening so fast."

"Maybe that means you should slow it down," Catherine said. "Faster isn't always better."

"Maybe not," Harry agreed, "but in this case, if I take it slowly, it will be just like it was before. We'll dance around each other and pretend that it isn't happening and put it off till the end of never." He looked out the window, nervously clutching the handles of his shopping bag in his fingers. "I can't wait till the arse-end of never, Catherine. Not anymore."

She sighed. "Well, yes, but you're putting a lot of pressure on her, and Janet doesn't do well under personal pressure. She kind of… buckles. Professional pressure, she excels. Personal, not so much. And she'll have all kinds of questions like where you'll live, how soon you want to get married –"

"I'd marry her in the morning tomorrow if anyone would allow it," Harry said with a sigh. "All the practical details will iron out in the wash. I just know that we can't be apart any longer."

"And what about Portia?" Catherine asked. "Are you going to take over and be an actual father to her, or are you going to be absent like you were with Graham and me? Because she's not got a clue, dad. She's been with Janet all alone her whole life. You need to step up."

"I intend to," Harry said firmly. "She's my daughter, Catherine – and so are you. I definitely screwed up before, with you, but I will fix things. I have to. This… all of this… my family – it's all I have left. I sold my soul to the Service and didn't even realize it was trying to kill me from the inside out. Not till it was almost too late." He sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand. "I'm not that man anymore, Cate. You know it as well as anyone. I will do my best for Portia and for Ruth."

"You really love her."

"I do," Harry said simply.

Catherine nodded and smiled a little. "Then I'm happy for both of you."

Ruth could hear the girls giggling and squealing in the other room as she downed her cup of coffee. It was almost enough to make her headache worse than it already was. She and Harry had stayed up late talking and she hadn't slept well all night, tortured by nightmares and the thought that she might wake up alone again.

So Sunday morning was spent with coffee and a dozen donuts – ten of which the three girls had eaten in record time. The other two, Ruth savored.

She had just finished when Grace bounced into the kitchen and hopped up onto a chair. "Hiya," Gracie said with a smile.

"Hi," Ruth replied. "What's up, kiddo?"

"You're going to marry my grandpa?" Gracie asked.

Ruth nodded. "I am," she said.

"Will you make him happy again?" Gracie asked very quietly. "He hasn't been happy for a long time, Janet. He's been really sad the whole time I've known him and that's eight whole years!"

"I will try my best," Ruth promised softly. "Why is he sad, Gracie?"

"He's sad about Ruth," Gracie replied. "I dunno who that is, but he talks about her to mommy sometimes. He really loves her and she died afore I was born." The little girl frowned. "He shouldn't be sad now, though, 'cause he's got you!"

The little girl's revelation was like a slap to the face. It was an about-face kind of a situation: Harry had really loved her and mourned her as if she were dead. And now he was here, trying to be the man she needed him to be, not the man he was. She loved him senseless, but… "I love your grandpa very much," Ruth said very softly. "I have for almost as long as I've known him."

"How long's that?" Gracie asked.

"Almost fifteen years," Ruth said softly.

"That's a really long time," Gracie said. "How come you never married him afore now?"

"Because," she murmured.

"Because Grandpa loves Ruth?" Gracie asked, blinking.

Ruth nodded slowly. "I just hope he loves me as much as he loves her."

"He does," Gracie chirped. "He was smiling earlier afore he left with mommy. He doesn't smile much. He loves you, Janet." She smiled and kicked her feet under the table. "What are we gonna have for lunch?"

"I don't know," Ruth replied. "I don't know how long your mum and grandpa are going to be."

Gracie sighed. "You ate the last donut," she said with a pout.

"Would you like an orange?" Ruth asked. "Or an apple?"

"No, I want a donut… but somebody ate them all," Gracie said pointedly.

"All right, all right – will cinnamon rolls do?" Ruth asked with a sigh.

"Okay," Gracie replied with a grin.

"You're a little hustler, just like your grandfather," Ruth muttered as she got down the cinnamon rolls from the cabinet.

Gracie merely smiled and made off with her spoils.

Ruth went back to her coffee and reading files and briefing updates for Monday; seemed like a quiet beginning to the week was in order, for which she was grateful. It was about time: she was tired of dealing with daily nightmares relating to the latest Photoshopping scandal or who got dropped from Weight Watchers for being seen drinking a few too many cocktails. To be honest, she missed the intrigue and backhanded dealings of MI-5, but she would never tell anyone – especially not Harry.

The back door opened and Harry and Catherine came inside. "Hey," Catherine said with a smile. "I think I'm going to take the girls over to mine for lunch so you and dad can spend some time together. We can grill out back for dinner – I already brought down some chicken and steak from the freezer earlier."

Ruth nodded and smiled. "Yes, I think that would be lovely – I'll make the smashed potatoes with the cheese and things."

"And a salad," Catherine said. "We should have a salad – but first, let me take the girls home."

It took a few minutes, but Harry and Ruth found themselves alone. "Hello," Harry said with a small smile. "How was your morning?"

"I got schooled by your granddaughter because I ate the last donut," Ruth said. "She was properly annoyed that I'm a fat old lady who ate the last donut."

"You are not fat," he said. "You're curvaceous. There's a difference."

"Tell that to my thighs," she commented with a sad laugh.

"Your thighs are lovely," Harry replied. "Just like the rest of you." He sat down beside her at the breakfast bar and reached over to hold her hand. "Ruth… I've loved you for quite a number of years, despite – or maybe rather, in spite – us being apart such as we've been. I… I love you a great deal, and I would like to marry you because we care for one another, not just because we have a child together."

"Harry, I love you, too," Ruth said softly, squeezing his hand. "And I don't want to marry you just because you're Portia's father. Believe me, if I had my way, we would've been together long before now." She smiled sadly, then looked away. "I feel a right fool for running from you before. I didn't know what a good thing I could have had until it was far, far too late."

"It's not too late," he said quietly. He opened her hand and slid a cool band of metal onto her finger. "I want you to have this, to wear it, and think of me when we're apart, and when we're together. Because it's… it's important, Ruth. I want you to remember that we've spent too much time apart and that we want nothing more than to spend more time together."

Ruth turned her hand over and looked at the ring, tears obscuring her view. "Oh, Harry, it's lovely," she whispered.

"It's beautiful, but not so beautiful as you," he murmured. "It's platinum and –"

She cut him off with a kiss, not wanting to encourage him in listing off the ring's attributes. She could well see that it was an emerald cut center diamond and four small round accent diamonds on either side. Anyone with eyes could see that; it was a delicate, sensible ring, and it looked like it belonged on her finger.

"I love it," she said, stroking his cheek and smiling. "And I love you, Sir Harry."

He exhaled and chuckled a bit in relief. "Oh, good," Harry said, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought… maybe… you were just having me on a bit."

"No," Ruth whispered. "No, I've spent years hoping you'd come find us, and now you have done. I wouldn't have you on, Harry." She gently took his hand and smiled. "I'd like to spend the rest of my life waking up with you like we did this morning."

He smiled and flushed a little. "It was quite nice," Harry said. "Even though we did nothing untoward."

She laughed. "Yes, well… now we have the time to be untoward." She twined her fingers with his and waited for him to show that he understood her meaning.

"Is it untoward if we're engaged?"

"I think to some conventional thinkers, it might well still be," Ruth said. "But we've wasted enough time, haven't we?" She slid off her stool and took a step away from the bar. "Come on, Harry… I probably won't see you at all tomorrow. We should make up for it today."

He followed her lead into her bedroom, and she released his hand to close the door behind them.

Every part of his body felt empty, exhausted. After being celibate for so long, being inside Ruth was just damnably exhausting. Harry felt bad, just kind of collapsing on her like that, but she just smiled indulgently and ran her fingers through his hair. "I love you," was all he could think long enough to say.

"I love you, too," she murmured back; the most beautiful words he'd ever heard, and they were tripping from her lips, directed straight back to him. It was like a dream, but so much better because it was real.

Reality came back with a bang. "I didn't even ask if we needed to use protection; I didn't think –"

"We don't," she replied softly. There was a long pause and he knew she was struggling to find the words she wanted to say to him. "I can't have more children. And Iain and I always used protection, and I get screened every few months just in case." She took a deep breath and said, "I was diagnosed with stage two ovarian cancer last year. I got everything removed and did a couple of rounds of radiation. I'm one of the lucky few who find it early enough to stop it."

He just stared at her, aghast, at the idea that she might have been dead by now. "Ruth, would you have told me about Portia if –"

She nodded and sighed. "Yes, it was written in my will that you be notified in the event of my death, and that you would retain custody." She looked up at him and said, "Do you mind shifting a bit? It's starting to get a bit uncomfortable."

He rolled off of her, then took her with him, letting her rest on his chest instead. It was more comfortable for both of them that way. Unfortunately, he was also stuck straight in the wet spot, but in the end, it didn't matter. Wet spots would dry.

"You could have called," he said quietly. "Or something, anything… you should never have gone through that alone."

Ruth shrugged. "Stephen and Catherine were very supportive."

"Yes, but –"

"I emailed you," she said. "It bounced."

"Because I wasn't at MI-5 anymore," he sighed. "Shit. Ruth, I'm sorry –"

"No, don't be," she whispered. "You're here now. We're bloody getting married. We've… we've made love again and it's just as wonderful as it was before. No more living in the past – the whole future is spread out before us."

Harry smiled and gave her a kiss. "It is," he agreed. "Now, I do have to go back – I've got an appointment for my annual physical, and then I've got the six month thing with the cardiologist. But as soon as those are done, I'd like to start packing things and having them shipped."

Her eyes widened. "You want to move here?"

"Wherever you and Portia are is where I would like to be, yes," Harry said.

"But – but you go to things like the Queen's garden party and you go shooting with Prince Charles," she protested. "I've seen the photos, Harry – it's the only way I knew you were still alive and not in some back alley somewhere, bleeding out."

He sighed. "My wife and my daughter are more important than any of that – future wife," he corrected abruptly. "And I'll be right next to Catherine and my grandchildren…"

"What about Graham?" Ruth asked.

What about Graham indeed. Ruth didn't know that he'd been sharing his house with his son and his son's girlfriend for quite some time. It was because, even with four jobs between the two, they couldn't make enough money to pay for a flat together. "I'll keep making the payment on the house in London," Harry said. "He can stay there. I'm less worried about him now than I have been in the past. He's clean and sober, and he works bloody hard. He's all but married to a nice lass named Sarah."

"So you're okay… leaving him behind?"

"I'll never be okay with leaving any of my loved ones behind," he sighed. "But he needs a chance to try to spread his wings, and he'll never get it if I'm there. Sarah will keep him in line. And there's always Skype for calling."

"But you want to be here?" she asked very quietly.

He nodded and stroked her back with a gentle touch. "I do," Harry whispered. "Very much so." He paused, then said, "You're much more entertaining than Prince Charles."

Ruth bit back a giggle. "Seriously, Harry, there's something wrong with your head."

"You've got the rest of our lives to figure out how to live with that," he teased, giving her a gentle kiss.

END PART SIX