As he stood outside the pub, Harry took a deep, calming breath and squared his shoulders.

It'd been years since he'd actively been in the field. And even longer yet since he played a honey trap to a woman while married to another. It was something he'd thought banished to his past.

The difference this time round; unlike those in the past; was that he wasn't looking forward to the seduction part. He'd always loved women; from the chase and seduction to the physical act of sex; they'd played an important part in the man he had been. But with age and the loneliness that came with easy, random sex, he'd changed. Albeit a bit slowly; but he'd changed.

Had his thirty year old self seen his fifty-plus self, he'd have been mortified. And perhaps a bit miffed. Whereas he'd been content to the life he lived then; with the pub scene and easy women; now he'd rather be at home with Ruth.

Curled together on the couch watching some period piece or history documentary she'd found on the television.

One hand splayed protectively over their children; the other somehow tangled in her hair.

She'd been remarkably calm when he'd left the Grid the hour before. After their talk on the roof and subsequent cuddle; which had completely tossed the no cuddling or snogging at work rule she'd come up with out the window; Ruth had thrown herself into creating his legend with Malcolm.

Which was whom he had to become now.

Wilson Gitts. 52 years of age. Unhappily married father with two teenage children up to London from Yorkshire for the week on business. Wife and kids at home.

I am Wilson Gitts. I'm a middle aged man in an unhappy marriage. I want an easy, no strings attached fuck. Tonight.

He repeated this mantra again; pushing Harry to the back of his mind.

For this to work, he had to believe he was Wilson Gitts.

Reaching to his throat, he undid his silk tie; shoving it into the pocket of the coat he'd worn. Undoing the top two buttons of his shirt, he rolled his neck and ran a hand through his short hair; musing it up a bit.

Opening the door, he stepped into the room and looked around. Spotting his mark at the far end of the bar, he casually made his way over. Settling on a stool two seats down, he smiled at her before looking at the bar tender.

"Whiskey. Neat."

As his drink was being prepared, he slowly looked around the room; taking in the different women before turning his attention; once again; to the blond. Let his eyes travel appreciatively over the long legs being shown by her short skirt, lingering a moment too long on the tight fighting material of her blouse, and finally traveling the long curve of her throat to meet her eyes.

Seeing her empty drink, he lifted an eyebrow and tilted his drink in question towards hers. At her slight nod of acceptance, he signaled the bar tender and ordered her a second drink. As she accepted the drink, she stood and made her way to the empty stool to his right.

"Thank you Mr..."

"It's Wilson."

"Thank you Mr. Wilson."

Laughing slightly, he smiled at her with lazy eyes. "No, Wilson's my first name."

"Well than, thank you Wilson." Sliding a perfectly manicured hand to him, she smiled. "I'm Kelly."

Taking the hand in his left, he kept his eyes on hers as he slowly bent over and pressed a kiss against the skin; his tongue lightly brushing against her. "It's a pleasure.

Glancing at his hand holding her, she put an obviously fake frown on her face. "Are you here to meet your wife?"

"God no. The harpy's at home with the kids."

Meeting his eyes from under her eyelashes, she smiled again at him. "And where is home?"

"Leeds."

Turning the stool towards him, she crossed her legs at the knee; inching the shirt she wore higher up her thigh.

As they talked, Harry felt himself slipping into a role he'd once played so well. Some things one never forgot.

A brush of the hand here. A quick smile and husky laugh at a small joke. Eyes flicking between hers and her lips.

For the hour and a half they sat at the bar flirting; it could only be called that for talking meant there was something of value being said; he found himself inching infinitely closer until his fingers just happened to accidently brush against the pale skin of her upper thigh. When she didn't flinch away but rather smiled at him, he let his fingers spread out so that his entire hand was resting against her.

Picking up her drink, Kelly finished it and slid off the stool; making sure his hand slid further up her leg until the tips of his fingers could just brush against the lace of her knickers. Leaning towards him, she smiled as she slid a hand between the open material of his shirt; fingers sliding against his chest.

"I think we both know where this is going. Let's skip the games, shall we, and just get to the fucking."

Placing his drink on the counter, Harry stood; pressing her and his trapped hand between the rest of his body and the other bar stool.

"My hotel's a bit of a distance," he said, naming a place clear across town.

Stepping away, she let his hand slide down her leg. "That's fine. My flat's around the corner. If that's alright."

Nodding, he gestured for her to lead the way. As they stepped from the warm room into the cool air, Harry found himself glancing around covertly for the surveillance van he knew was parked close by. Passing by a dark alley, he found himself pressed against the brick of the wall; his mouth assaulted by the lips of the woman he was with.

"Or we could fuck here."

Hands sliding over her shoulders, he let his fingers dip below the material before pushing her back slightly.

"I want to be able to sample everything" he paused a moment, eyes traveling the distance from her feet to her lips slowly, "you have to offer."

Fingers running back and forth against the top of her breast, he moved his knee to rest against the center of her knickers. "And this alley doesn't offer me the chance to taste the full spread."

"I can't wait." she said, eyes gleaming in the darkness.

Unlocking his front door, Harry slowly stepped into the house and stopped. It was almost three hours from that moment in that alley. Three long hours in which he'd managed to get into her flat to leave the little gift he'd brought and then extract himself gently so as not to ruffle her too much but fast enough that he hadn't needed to do something he'd regret.

Following the silent ride to the Grid in a van where Zaf kept throwing appreciative glances his way and Malcolm kept frowning, Harry had felt a mix of disappointment and relief that Ruth was nowhere to be found. He had hopes that she hadn't seen or heard the events of the night because even though ultimately nothing had happened, he knew her well enough to know she'd be bothered.

That relief had been broken when Adam had said she'd left soon after they'd extracted him; taking the SUV home. He'd been briefed by Adam; getting the unpleasant experience over with before sending everyone home for the night. His ride in the back of a staff car had given him time to think; and worry; about what Ruth's reaction would be.

Sliding off his shoes, he spared a glance into her reading room before following the sounds of the telly. Finding her curled on the couch; olive green throw wrapped around her; and animals against her side, he smiled. This was how he'd wanted to spend his evening.

"Hi." he said softly, crossing the room to where she sat.

"Hi." she said back, looking up at him through guarded eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning down to brush her lips with a soft kiss.

Feeling her hand on his chest stopping him, he frowned; his eyes meeting hers as worry settled in his stomach.

Seeing the look that flashed through his eyes, she sighed.

"I know everything that happened; you know I was watching on the Grid; and while I trust you fully, I can't kiss you until you've showered and brushed your teeth. I just...can't. I'm sorry."

"Ruth..."

"Harry, please. I'm not angry or even insanely jealous. I promise. I know you weren't cheating on me; that it was all for work and the greater good of our country. I just can't get the image of your hands and lips on her out of my mind; especially when you smell of her cheap perfume."

Eyes sad, he nodded and muttered softly that he understood before leaving the room.

He spent twenty minutes under the prickling spray of water at its hottest setting; skin turning red as he scrubbed and scrubbed in the scalding water. Stopping briefly in their bedroom, he pulled on a pair of loose, black track pants and gray Oxford shirt, he was soon on his way back down to the sitting room.

Finding her still curled under the blanket, he padded barefoot across the wooden floor and stopped behind her and the arm of the couch. Hand gently stroking her hair, he worriedly watched as she leaned her head back and looked up at him; a smile appearing on her face.

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Harry leant over and captured her lips in a possessive kiss. Tonight had been hell; something he didn't want to relive. Throughout his shower, he had spent the time imaging what he'd be feeling if it had been Ruth who had gone out as a honey trap.

If it had been Ruth flirting with another guy, being kissed by another guy, pressed against a cold wall. If it was Ruth who had returned to their home mussed and smelling of another man's cologne. He hadn't liked it.

Not only had he felt dismay but an anger raged through him to a depth he very rarely felt.

And he wasn't the one who had to worry about their spouses past history of cheating on previous partners. He couldn't even begin to imagine what she was currently feeling.

Hand still in her hair, he lifted his head and smiled softly at her.

"Scoot up."

Unwrapping the blanket from around her shoulders, Ruth did what he asked. Settling himself on the cushions behind her, he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped the blank around them again.

Turning on her side; hand and head resting against his chest; she looked up at him as he settled.

Legs stretched out, Harry reclined against the arm and met her eyes.

"Comfortable?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Now tell me the truth, are you okay?" Worry seeped into his voice again as his fingers traced up and down her bare arm.

"It was hard to watch." she said softly, her fingers playing with the fabric of his gray t-shirt. "And to hear. It felt so...real. I know it wasn't; but God, you're good at that."

"I need you to know that it meant nothing to me. That the entire time I felt nothing but disgust." Handing sliding under her chin to lift her eyes to his, he continued. "And I promise you, nothing happened."

"I know. It's just..."

"Just what?" he asked quietly, fingers still lightly gripping her chin.

"Tonight I saw a completely different side to you. One I'd never seen before. And I have to wonder if part of you doesn't miss that?"

"Of course I don't. How could I? With you, I've found something wonderful."

"Are you sure? Because the man I saw tonight wasn't the same man I know. And it makes me wonder."

"About what?"

"Why you were never like that with me. Did I not...excite you?"

"You excite me more than you could ever imagine. In so many different ways. Just as you intrigue me, arouse me, fill me with joy...and worry, and complete me. I never wanted to seduce you Ruth because to me, that type of seduction is nothing more than a casual fling. And you've always been so much more to me than that. You know my past. You know I've been with my fair share of women; it was always easy to get a woman to have sex; but I've never wanted someone in my life the way I want you there. With you, it's not just about sex; but love and spending the rest of my life with you."

"How did you know I was different?" she asked softly.

"I knew when you tripped into the briefing room that you were something special and I wanted to get to know you. Not intimately; that came later; but you. I wanted to know what your passions were and what could get your roused up. I wanted to know if you liked a lie in on an off morning, how you liked your tea, and if you preferred classic movies to current trendy ones. That was something I'd never wanted before."

Holding her close, he leaned down and kissed her hair.

"Now that I've answered your question, can you answer one for me?"

"What's that?"

Fingers sliding under the hem of his old rugby shirt she was wearing, he caressed hard bump that was their children.

"What do you want?"

Confused, she lifted her face to his again. "What do I want when?"

"When the twins are born. Are you hoping for two girls or two boys or maybe one of each?"

"What do you want?"

"I asked you first."

"I'm the one who had to worry about you in the field tonight."

Conceding, he smiled and let his hand rest for a moment over the center of her stomach. "The only thing I'm concerned about is that they; and you; are healthy throughout this whole pregnancy and after. We could have any combination and I'd be happy."

"Me too." she said softly, hand moving to cover his. "But I want to find out ahead of time what they are. We can't keep calling them peanuts."

"Like hell we can't. They'll forever be my; our; little peanuts. Even when they're having children of their own."

AN: I can't take credit for the title of this chapter; that goes to Edmond Rostand and his Cyrano de Bergerac.