Sixteen:
New Year's

Ruth came downstairs slowly, careful not to tread on the hem of her new gown. Harry's face lit up with delight when she came into his view, and he said, "My god, where on earth did you find that dress?"

"Rose found it," Ruth said, "in a vintage shop down in SoHo. Bought it for a song – thirty pounds fifty." She got to the bottom of the steps and twirled a bit, the iridescent maroon satin swishing around her. "Here I was thinking I'd have to buy something off the rack and ten times as much –"

He grabbed her gloved hands and pulled her close for a kiss. "You look amazing," he whispered.

"It's from 1936," she replied.

"I don't care," he said. "You look bloody gorgeous and I have half a mind to cart you back upstairs and not let you out of the bedroom."

Jamie trotted out into the foyer and said, "Oh, mummy, you look pretty! Daddy, you look handsome! Are you going to a party?"

"We are," Harry acknowledged. "Are you going to behave for Uncle Malcolm and Daisy?"

Jamie nodded and said, "We're going to tell stories."

"Good," Ruth murmured. "You'll have lots of fun."

Jamie beamed at her with a happy innocence that she wished he could keep forever. "I love you, mummy," he said. "And I love you, too, daddy." He rushed over and gave them both hugs.

"We need to go," Harry said softly near Ruth's ear. She nodded and he went to get her dress coat – a long, beautiful black velvet coat with a dark grey woolen lining. He helped her into it and she got her clutch, hoping that her elegant attire wouldn't be too much for the party. Harry was looking rather debonair in his tails and white bow tie, so she doubted that she was overdressed.

They were picked up by Mike, Harry's regular Service driver, in a rather flashy Rolls. Harry smiled over at her in the back seat and took her hand in his. "You look magnificent," he commented softly. "The pearls suit you very much."

She blushed and murmured, "You have a rather intimate knowledge of how well they suit me."

He leaned over and whispered against the shell of her ear, "I can't wait to take you home and get everything off you but the pearls."

"Behave," she whispered back, accepting his gentle kiss. She was glad she'd used the 24 hour lipcolor, as nothing came off on him. It would have been very difficult to explain to the queen why he was sporting dark red lipstick as an accessory to his tails.

"I am behaving," Harry said cheerfully. "I'm behaving badly." He gave her a wolfish smile.

"You are," she agreed.

"By the way, Hermione and Ianto haven't told anyone about your visit to my office the other day," he commented lightly. "So our secret is still safe."

"Erin knows."

"Yes, I figured she might…" He paused. "You know, after tonight, the world will know about us."

She sighed and murmured, "I know. I'm not exactly looking forward to the gossip around the water cooler tomorrow. Dimitri has been flirting with me quite a bit since I came on to work. I think he's going to be sorely disappointed to be outmanned."

"Have you been flirting back?" Harry asked, his voice suddenly irritated.

"No," she assured him softly. "I'm happy with you. Why would I lead someone else on like that when I love you?"

He kissed her again, this time jealously, possessively. "No one touches my wife," he whispered. "No one."

She blinked at him and said, "And what if I want to touch myself, then? Hmm? Going to remove my hand for me, Sir Harry?"

He grunted. "That's different."

Ruth sighed and rolled her eyes. "Of course it is," she said.

"Can we not fight about this? God knows Section D is handling security for the event – you're going to have to deal with him tomorrow anyway," he huffed. "So let me have my night of being possessive."

"You are always possessive," she muttered. "Behave yourself for once, please. Don't embarrass yourself in front of the Queen, for god's sake, Harry."

He rolled his eyes. "I won't," he said pointedly, "but don't go seeking out –"

"Do you trust me or not?" Ruth asked. "We've been married for years, and most of that time, we've been apart. Do you trust me?"

He paused. "With my life." The words were soft, full of import. She knew he didn't trust anyone that far, far enough to save him when the end came.

She held his hand and whispered, "Then please behave like a gentleman. There is no reason for you to worry about me finding someone else attractive, Harry. I love you. I want to be with you. I have children with you; I snuck into your bloody office to fuck you. Please trust me now."

"I do," he said quietly. "I just don't trust anyone else."

Ruth turned him toward her and gave him a gentle, soft kiss. "I am Lady Ruth Pearce," she whispered, "and tonight, I am the glamorous wife you've always wanted me to be. Trust me. Trust us, Harry." She kissed him again, hoping to assuage his fears – even just a little bit.

By the time they arrived at the Palace, he was much calmer, and the irritation had left his face. She, on the other hand, was a bit nervous. Once they were through security, the rest of Section D would be mingling as party guests. They would see everything. Ros, of course, had known that Ruth would be there as an actual guest, and had gently told her not to wear a wire, because she wouldn't be on duty as anything but the wife of the DG.

That almost made it worse: she wouldn't be able to hear the snide comments from her teammates. She wouldn't know what to expect in the morning.

They dropped their coats at the cloakroom, and Ruth secreted away the ticket in her clutch. They went through security without a hitch, and joined the line of dignitaries being announced one by one, as protocol dictated.

Finally, it was their turn. "Sir Henry and Lady Ruth Pearce," was announced, and he led her into the ballroom on his arm.

"Bloody hell, I hate being called Henry," he muttered under his breath.

Ruth glanced around the room and her eyes alit on Ros, who tipped her glass of champagne in Ruth's direction with a cheekily smug smile, as if to say, "You married the old codger. Now you get all the embarrassment of living with it."

Ruth, for her part, straightened her spine and tried to carry herself as regally as possible. She was the wife of a Knight of the Realm, she was wearing millions of dollars in jewelry, and she was bloody well going to look the part, even if she just felt like plain old Ruth.

Harry led her to the reception line where they waited patiently to pay their respects to their hosts, the Royal Family. They were greeted enthusiastically, and the Queen even said, "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Lady Pearce. Your travels have seen you well?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Ruth said softly, smiling. "Quite well. Thank you for the invitation; I'm having a lovely time."

"I see that Sir Harry's want of the pearls was of a practical nature," the Queen commented in a teasing tone. "They are quite lovely on you, Lady Pearce."

And with that, they were dismissed to enjoy the rest of the party.

They mingled, Harry introducing her to politicians and their wives and husbands, Ministers and their spouses, the Prime Minister, Foreign and Home Secretaries, and many of the upper crust of the elite of the country. Ruth's head was swimming with how at ease Harry was with all of this, but then again, he'd had several years to get used to playing the game. She'd just been dumped in the deep end and left to founder – aside from Harry, who acted like a buoy, holding her above water.

Dimitri sidled up to them with Beth on his arm. "Sir Harry, Lady Pearce," Dimitri greeted coolly. "All is green at the moment. There are testers in the kitchen, screening the dinner plates as we speak."

"Mr. Levi, Miss Barker, I don't believe you've met my lovely wife," Harry said for the benefit of those passing around them. "Ruth, this is Daniel Levi and Emma Barker. They work for the Home Secretary." He lowered his voice and said, "Thank you – keep up the good work."

Ruth just sighed softly and allowed herself to be led to the dance floor. Harry was an excellent dancer, and he always put her to shame. So this would be absolute torture…

Except it wasn't that bad. He held her close, guided her through the steps, and was her charming, ever-devoted, loving husband. He whispered, "I love you, Ruth. So much more than I can say. Thank you for accompanying me tonight."

"Where else would I be?" Ruth murmured, twining her fingers with his possessively. "I love you, Harry."

The instant Ruth stepped onto the Grid, everything fell silent. Erin was the first to speak. "Your dress last night was lovely, Ruth – you'll have to tell me where you got it," she said enthusiastically. "It was quite classic."

"Actually," Ruth said, "my daughter found it in Soho at a vintage shop."

Another silence fell, then Tariq said, "So… you're shagging the DG, then?"

"I am not shagging the DG," Ruth said, already exasperated as she sat down at her desk. "I will admit to being married to Harry Pearce, and that we do share a bed and have a rather active love life, but I draw the line at shagging."

"Too much information," Beth sighed.

Ros came out of her office and said, "Don't you all have better things to be doing than harassing Ruth about her home life?"

"Why didn't you just tell us?" Lucas finally asked. "That you're married to Harry Pearce, I mean."

"Because," Ruth said, "I don't trust you. I trust Ros, and I trust Erin – but those trusts have been earned. My family life is precious to me, and I will not allow it to be exposed willingly to any kind of danger."

She looked over pointedly at Lucas, hoping he would heed her warning. The things she'd already gathered on him were enough to turn Section D upside down, but she needed more. She needed proof, not just coincidental evidence.

Little things always added up to much larger things. She was just meant to nitpick until they came together as a puzzle.

So far, all she knew was that he was not what he seemed, and his behavior was cause for concern.

He looked away from her, and she exhaled, closing her eyes for a brief moment before opening them and beginning to work.

END PART SIXTEEN