A few days later – Thursday, 17th November

She sits down with a sigh and lifts her glass to her lips, taking a generous swig of wine and swallowing it in relief. She doesn't know how she's managed to survive the last few days away from home. It's enough to drive anyone mad, living in a safe-house with your irritating ex-boyfriend and two of your colleagues, most of them men, and she hopes that she never, ever has to experience anything like it again.

When they'd finally figured out that Roy Woodring was behind everything and Harry had confronted him, it had seemed like the worst of it was over and that she could finally go home, but Harry had insisted that the threat be neutralised completely before her life could return to normal. She'd fought against it, of course, yelling at him in anger and frustration late on Sunday night, the disappointment of not being able to go home getting the better of her as she'd stormed out of his office in disgust, seething at his high-handedness when he'd finally ordered her to comply and remain at the safe-house until he deemed it safe for her to return home.

Life in the safe-house had really become unbearable by this point, stuck as she was with bloody Gary and his immature behaviour and childish games, and though it had taken her no more than a few minutes, after she'd calmed down, to realise that Harry's angry determination and utter pig-headedness was coming from a place of deep love and fear for her safety, she'd still been unable to fully forgive him for quite a while, not until this afternoon really when Malcolm had finally completed the fake book and Harry had left to confront Juliet. Her own fear for his safety over what he was about to do had made her realise, in that moment, how stupid it was to remain angry with him for loving her enough to risk her wrath in order to keep her safe. As she'd surreptitiously watched him slip his coat on and take the book from Adam, hearing the latter express his misgivings over Harry's determination to go after Juliet, she'd felt so afraid for him that any remaining resentment towards him had evaporated, and she'd found herself deeply regretting not only ending their relationship, but also not fully enjoying every moment they'd spent in each other's company since and especially these last few days when they'd both been working late on the Grid, where she'd stayed as late a possible each night to avoid the safe-house.

Without hesitation then, she'd quickly moved over to the pods and waited for him there in the shadows, and as he'd passed by her hiding place on his way out, leather bound book in hand, his face set in an expression of grim determination, she'd whispered his name. He'd paused, taking a step towards her, his face unreadable, so grasping her courage with both hands, she'd stepped out into the light, and whispering softly, "Be careful, Harry," she'd reached up and kissed his cheek before pulling away and squeezing his arm through the thick fabric of his coat. She smiles now as she remembers the look of utter surprise and wonder that had appeared on his face for just a moment before he'd regained control, smiled softly, and promised, "I will." He'd held her gaze for long moments, she recalls, and for once in her life, she'd barely noticed anyone else around them or spared them a second thought. If she never saw Harry again, she remembers thinking, what did it matter what people thought of them? But, thankfully, he'd kept his word and had come out of his confrontation with Juliet not only unscathed, but also victorious, and she'd been able to leave the horrible safe-house and Gary behind and finally come home.

She'd left the Grid at five on the dot and had arrived home just over an hour ago, feeling so relieved to be here that she hadn't managed to do anything except climb the stairs and fall into bed, fully clothed. She'd lain there for what had seemed like hours, enjoying the peace and quiet and the relief that it was all over, before she'd began to realise that something was missing, and it had taken her a few moments longer to eventually figure out that it was Fidget; he hadn't come to greet her. She'd got up then and gone back downstairs, worrying about him as she searched all the rooms. When she'd failed to find him and had began to feel really quite anxious, she'd reminded herself that Harry had taken care of him and that he wouldn't have let anything bad happen to her cat; he actually likes Fidget. Plus she was sure that he remembered the conversation they'd had about their pets a little while ago, during which she'd mentioned what she does to take care of him and even mentioned the pet sitter she uses whenever she goes away for a few days. Perhaps her sitter hadn't been available and he'd taken him to the kennel she's had to use a few times in the past, she'd thought, seeing as she'd been away for more than a week now. She'd pulled out her phone then, but somehow she hadn't been able to face calling him now, even for Fidget. So she'd made her way into the kitchen, put the phone down on the counter, and set about getting something to eat. She hadn't been very hopeful when she'd opened the fridge in search of ingredients, but she'd been thrilled to discover that someone had stocked it full of everything she might possibly need, including a couple of bottles of expensive looking wine. Harry, she'd thought instantly, and before she could think twice, she'd grabbed her phone and dialled his number.

"Ruth," he'd murmured in greeting, the sound of his voice lifting her heart.

"Was it you?" she'd blurted a little breathlessly before she could chicken out, holding her breath in hopeful anticipation.

"Was it me who did what?" he'd asked, sounding a little puzzled.

"Stocked my fridge with food," she'd explained quickly, still feeling breathless.

"Oh that," he'd answered, waiting a beat before murmuring, "Actually, it was Malcolm."

"Malcolm!" she'd exclaimed in some surprise.

"Yes," he'd confirmed. "When I sent him over to check your place for bugs that might have been planted during your absence, I asked him to... buy you a few essentials."

"Essentials?" she'd laughed. "He's bought half of Sainsbury's by the looks of it."

"Well, I did tell him to spare no expense," he'd confessed softly, making her heart soar.

"Thank you, Harry," she'd smiled, infusing her voice with as much warmth as possible, but before she could say anything more, he'd interrupted.

"Listen, Ruth," he'd said quickly, "I was actually just about to ring you. I meant to offer you a lift home so we could pick up Fidget on our way, but you disappeared early on me. I have him now and I could drop him off in about an hour... if that suits you?"

"Yes," she'd agreed readily. "That would be great. I've missed him."

"I'll see you soon then," he'd replied and hung up.

So she'd decided to cook for him, something quick and easy, but a warm meal all the same, partly in thanks for being so thoughtful and wonderful, and partly to apologise for hurting him. Now, as she sits waiting for him, she mentally plans what she'll say to him, hoping that he'll hear her out, forgive her, and give her another chance.