And here is the epilogue. I'm a little sad to see this fic end, I enjoyed writing it so much, but at least it means I can get started on a new one now. A big thank you to all my readers who've stuck with this until the end. Thank you for your support; it means a lot. Please leave one final review if you have a moment. Cheers, S.C.

Seven years later

"Harry," she sighs, "are you going to tell me where we're going yet?"

"Patience, Ruth. Patience," he replies, frowning as he peers up ahead through the wind-shield. "We're almost there. Ah! Here it is."

He turns right into an unpaved, bumpy track and they continue for some time along it before they pass a bend in the road and she finally recognises where they are. "Oh, Harry," she sighs, smiling at him as he moves forward a few more yards and parks the car.

He turns to her and grins before he says, "Come on," and gets out of the car. She watches him walk round to her door and pull it open, feeling her heart overflow with love for him as he offers her his hand to help her out. He's such a wonderful, gentle man, she thinks as she takes his hand gratefully and lets him lead her through the garden gate and towards the cottage door. Once there, however, she's surprised that he doesn't ring the doorbell as she expects, but instead he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys, fitting one into the lock and opening the door.

"Harry?" she asks uncertainly, but he just smiles at her, his face begging her to trust him, so she steps through the open door and walks along the hall into the kitchen. It looks much the same as it ever had, except that the table and chairs are missing and the counters are all clear of things. "What's going on, Harry? Where's Fred?" she asks as he follows her into the room.

"He's selling," he explains softly. "I saw this advertised a few weeks ago, while you were... recovering, and I came up to see it. He was still living here at the time and we had a nice long chat. Turns out he was in the army, did you know that?"

"No," she shakes her head, moving over to the window to look out, "but that explains why his daughter joined up. He told me she'd been killed in action," she says softly, "and that his wife died shortly after of a broken heart."

He nods and moves to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her. "They used to come here when Kate, that's his daughter, was a child. They both loved it, but his wife, Ellie, only put up with the isolation and lack of amenities for their sakes. He had the bathtub installed for her." She smiles as she leans back against him listening, remembering the bath they'd shared all those years ago. "He said he moved here permanently after they both passed, but he's getting too old and it's too isolated for him to stay here alone. He said his sister passed away recently, and her daughter's a single mother and struggling to cope with everything on her own, so he's going to move down there to help his niece and her children."

"That's nice of him," she whispers.

"I got the feeling he didn't want to sell this place, but he has to if he wants to move," Harry murmurs. "But he told me, he'd be happy if we bought it. It would set his mind at ease."

She twists in his arms then, searching his gaze. "What do you think, Ruth?" he asks softly. "I know it's not the cottage we saw ourselves sharing in Kent. I'm sorry I wasn't on top of things after you were... hurt and I let it slip through our fingers, but-"

"It's perfect, Harry," she smiles.

"Really?" he asks, his gaze hopeful.

"Really," she nods and presses her lips against his in a soft, loving kiss. Then she pulls back and slips her arms around him as she cuddles into his embrace, murmuring, "You wonderfully sentimental man."

He chuckles at that, saying, "He wanted to know if you'd be joining me here."

"Fred?" she asks, pulling back to look at him.

He nods. "Then he asked me if I'd made an honest woman out of you yet."

"And what did you tell him?" she smiles.

"I said, I'd tried," he shrugs.

She laughs at that, shaking her head at him.

"What?" he asks with a frown. "It's true."

"I suppose it is," she smiles, "though I'm not sure it counts. You thought I was dying at the time."

He purses his lips and looks away, his face serious and she immediately regrets her teasing remark. She hadn't meant to hurt him or ruin the moment for them. "I'm sorry," she whispers, reaching her hand up to his chin and gently guiding his face towards hers. "I'm sorry, Harry."

"You know I'm not very good at that sort of thing, Ruth," he says quietly.

"You're not so bad, Harry," she smiles softly, "and you're quite wonderful in other things, so it really doesn't matter. No one's perfect. Do you want us to get married?"

He looks startled that she's asked him that. "Do you?" he answers.

"I don't mind," she shrugs. "It's never been something that I've felt I need to do, Harry. For me, the commitment and the love between us is enough. I don't need the ceremony, the dress, a ring and a piece of paper to tell me that we love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together. I know that already, but if you want that, I'd be happy to do it... for you."

"I don't need it either, Ruth," he smiles. "All I need is you, right here, in my arms."

"See what I mean?" she grins. "Good at other things."

He kisses her then, a long, drawn out kiss, full of promise of things to come. When he pulls back, she sighs, "I do love you, Harry. So very, very much."

"Me too, my Ruth," he whispers in reply before they both turn to gaze out the window at the beautiful landscape before them that is soon to be their home, feeling like the luckiest people alive as they hold each other close and contemplate their future here, away from MI-5. "We're going to be so happy here, Ruth," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against her temple. "I can feel it in my bones."