"My house!" Harry exclaimed in shock. "They kept my house?"

"Seems they were attracted to all that hi-tech security you installed," Ruth mused, briefly releasing Calum's hand to stretch out her stiff limbs.

It was a distressing sight to see the normally exuberant, energetic Calum Reed lying motionless in a hospital bed. His wild curls had been shaved to make way for the surgery, and a thick white bandage now covered the top part of his skull. The doctors had also been forced to intubate him after he slipped into a coma. Ruth remembered all too well the feeling of being strangled from the inside out as she woke from her coma to the endotracheal tube blasting oxygen into her lungs. Speaking had been uncomfortable for several days, which Ruth knew would prove an obstacle for Calum given that the brazen young man loved to talk.

But he'd get through it.

He would.

He had to.

"I bet they've ballsed it up," Harry grumbled, still miffed the MI5 had kept his house and not told him. Then again, for the last six years, they hadn't exactly been easy to get hold of. And the last week or so had been one mad scramble to stop the Horsemen. Trivialities like property rights were not on the top of the agenda.

"Maybe a few small changes," Ruth soothed, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension in her spine. "But I'm sure it's basically the same."

"God knows who's been staying there," Harry growled. "And why didn't Dimitri suggest it before?"

"I don't think he arranged the accommodation. As Section Head, I'm sure he had more pressing things to do."

"Mmm," Harry muttered disapprovingly. "Like charming the officers he's mistreated into coming back."

"It wasn't like that. I volunteered."

"What he said to you was rotten."

"I'm sure you said worse to me back in the day."

Harry blanched. For a moment, he looked like he might deny it. Then, his shoulders sagged and he had the good grace to nod, suitably ashamed.

"Only… Only in the beginning…" he mumbled.

"But you still said it," Ruth replied pointedly, though she offered him a tired smile to soften the reproval. "Dimitri's dealing with a lot."

"Aren't we all."

"His team are dead, Bart's due to be found guilty tomorrow, and Jodie's probably a mole – he needs someone there he can trust."

"But can he trust himself?"

Ruth sighed, reclaiming Calum's hand and trying not to dwell on how limp and lifeless it was, "I think today was a wake-up call. If I'm right, he's finally seeing clearer than he has in months."

"And if it's just a ploy to get you back?"

"Dimitri's not like that."

"He's not the man we once knew."

"And we're not the same people he knew. People change. But I like to think their core goodness stays intact."

Harry pursed his lips in the classic Pearce Pout, clearly disagreeing.

"Harry, if Dimitri's right, and Calum and I were targeted because we were getting too close, it means we were tugging on the right strings. If we follow that ball of yarn, we might finally find the Horsemen."

Harry huffed a little, but she could see the tiny finite changes playing out across his face. For all his bluster, he did understand, "You always were a stubborn old mule."

"Less of the old, please."

"Stubborn young mule doesn't have quite the same ring."

"Why do I have to be a mule at all?"

They caught each other's eye and promptly burst out laughing. Whilst it was a welcome release after the horrors of the day, it ended all too quickly when Ruth glanced down at Calum's gravely pale face, and choked, feeling immediately like the worst person in the world. How could they be laughing when their dear friend was fighting for his life? Either her sobriety was infectious, or Harry had been struck by this thought too, because he suddenly went very quiet, bowing his head in shame.

Ruth's gaze drifted to Lottie, curled up in a chair beneath Harry's coat, still sleeping. Her poor, poor baby. She was so small, so young, so innocent. Too innocent for the world they'd dragged her into. The things she'd seen and heard today were things that no child should ever have to hear. Her heart broke to think that their six-year-old would forever bear the psychological scars of the day's attack. She and Harry had worked so hard to prevent her from feeling scared of the world. But how could they reassure her that this situation wasn't scary? It was. Ruth was scared. No, Ruth was bloody terrified. The Horsemen had gone from being an underground group of underdogs, to attacking security service officers in broad daylight. They had grown in both confidence and manpower. And they weren't afraid to show it.

Her eyes fell on the occupant of the bed, so still, so unnaturally, overwhelmingly silent.

"I promised him it'd be alright," she whispered into the quiet.

Harry looked up, confused.

"Calum. He was upset when Dimitri told me to leave. I told him it'd be alright."

"And it will be," Harry said firmly.

"You can't know that."

"Nothing in life is certain, Ruth. So we just do what we can. What we always do. We carry on. We stop the bastard terrorists."

"We?"

"Ruth," Harry's soft eyes swirled with molten gold. "Whether I'm an MI5 officer or not, I'll always be here, fighting to keep you and this family safe. Whatever you need, just say the word. You may be a team down, but you're not alone."

Ruth's heart thumped wildly in her chest. By God, she loved this man, more fiercely with each day, and certainly more than words could ever express. She sometimes wondered, on her darker days, if the love she gave out was enough for a man like Harry, whose fierce loyalty, whose unrivalled passion had wooed the hearts of women aplenty. It was like she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop; for him to realise that he could do so much better than her and drive off into the sunset with some thirty-something leggy blonde. And yet, that day never came.

She wouldn't say she was a good person by any means, but she could console herself that she must have done something good for the cosmos to have sent her Harry.

"I love you," she said quietly, cringing at how bland the phrase sounded after Harry's impassioned declaration.

But Harry didn't cringe. He simply smiled that tender smile that never failed to make her belly flip and her insides melt. And when he reached out his hand for hers, she gave it willingly, always.

"I love you," he echoed surely.

Ruth bit her lip, remembering their old adage from years ago, "Can't go on. Must go on."

Harry's smile broadened, "Exactly."

They sat there in silence, hands entwined, listening only to the steady beep of the heart monitor; the reassuring pulse that their friend was still alive.

"You know," Harry said suddenly. "Maybe you're right. Maybe Dimitri's not completely lost to us."

Ruth arched an eyebrow, "Well that was a complete turnaround."

Harry merely nodded towards the bedside table. Resting next to the traditional jug of water was a jumbo pack of gobstoppers. A post-it note was attached, bearing a familiar scrawl.

I'm sorry. You're right. I AM a dick.

- The Admiral

Ruth smiled, "Maybe."

"No!"

"Lottie –."

"You promised!"

"I didn't promise anything," Ruth countered calmly, though inside she was crumbling at the sight of her weeping child. Of course Lottie wasn't ready to let her go – they had nearly died yesterday, and it only took a surface glance to see that she was traumatised. A good person – a good mother – would stay with her child. But Ruth knew that if she stood any chance of protecting her daughter, she had no choice but to go back to work. The Horsemen had escalated their plans and Ruth would never forgive herself if her family were the next casualties. One close call was quite enough. They had to stop this. Now.

"Mummy thought she wouldn't be going back to work, Squirt," Harry said patiently. "But it turns out, work need her."

"I need her!" Lottie cried, distraught in a way that neither Ruth nor Harry had ever seen. Her face was red, blotchy and stained with tears that just kept coming. Rather than sinking into a quiet contemplation as she usually did when upset, she was loud and outspoken and kept clinging to her mother's sleeve as if she'd fade away without her. Ruth wanted to cry upon seeing her baby so terrified.

"Lottie," she said as firmly as she could manage, crouching down so that she could meet her daughter's stormy blue orbs. "You have been the bravest girl there ever was. You have put up with so much, and you've stayed the kind, wonderful, incredibly strong person you are. And I'm so proud of you for that, my beautiful girl. Yesterday was horrible. Bad men tried to hurt us –."

"– They tried to kill us," Lottie corrected, her ocean eyes swimming with tears.

Ruth swore her heart shattered right there. That was a sentence no six-year-old should have to utter.

"Yes," Ruth whispered, tucking a strand of chocolate hair back behind the little girl's ear. "And Mummy needs to go back to make sure that no more bad men come to hurt us – or anyone else – like that."

"But what if they come back and you're not here?"

"They won't come back, Squirt," Harry assured her. "We're moving to a new house where they won't find us."

"But the Bad Men have found us twice already. How do you know they won't find us again?"

"Because they caught us by surprise those first two times," Harry said grimly. "They won't get away with that again."

"You know what they say?" Ruth added. "Third time lucky."

"We're not lucky," Lottie argued morosely. "If we were lucky, we'd have stayed in Beechworth. We'd still live at the Caravan Park and you'd be at your other job, and I'd be at school with Jamie and Alfie and everything would be right. Here, nothing's right. We're not lucky. We're unlucky."

"We're lucky," Ruth countered, her heart aching for her once sunny-natured daughter. "We may not have Beechworth or those other things right now, but we're luckier than a lot of people. You know why?"

Lottie shrugged.

"Because we have each other. Our family. You have me and Daddy and Catherine and Gray and Uncle Malcolm and Jane –"

Lottie pulled a face at Jane's name and Ruth had to hold back a sudden snort of laughter. Their baby was still in there; her spirit was still alive, if a little dampened.

"And Daddy and I – we're the luckiest of all, because we have you," Ruth finished earnestly. "And believe me, my darling, there isn't anything I wouldn't do to protect you. So, if it means I have to go back to work for a little while to keep you safe, then so be it."

Lottie was silent for a moment. Her panic had quelled slightly, her quick brain assimilating the logic of Ruth's argument.

"Can I come with you?" she asked, after a while. "I'm a big girl now. I can help."

"You can help by looking after your Daddy and your sisters."

"But –."

"I need you to be brave for just a while longer, darling," Ruth pleaded softly. "Just a while longer."

For an instant, Lottie looked mutinous. There were tears and rage in her eyes and her chest was heaving like she wanted to shout and scream and release a torrent of tears, just as she had every right to do. Then, slowly, the ire faded. Every bit her parents' daughter, she squared her shoulders, summoned her strength and softened her face into that of solemn acceptance.

"Okay, Mummy."

Ruth pulled her baby into her arms and held her close, breathing in her sweet, fruity scent, "My good girl. My big, beautiful, brave girl."

Ruth wanted to shout and scream and release a torrent of tears too. She wanted to take Lottie and Harry and the rest of her newfound family to the Grid and keep them safe. But that would never be allowed. And she wouldn't force her daughter to live in more fear than she already was – even though Ruth herself was crumbling from the inside out.

She could feel Harry's honeyed gaze drilling holes into her skull; could read the concern in those hazel orbs without even looking.

He knew.

He knew she wasn't doing well.

But as long as she refused to admit it; as long as she told herself she was fine, she could keep going, right?

Right?

"This thing goes from bad to worse," The Home Secretary lamented, dragging a hand across his weary eyes. "First the flash drive goes missing, then a two-pronged attack on your officers. How exactly are these people getting their intel?"

"A mole," Dimitri replied shortly.

"Caractacus Bartholomew," The DG added.

David Rawle, Tim Howard and Dimitri were seated around a large Whitehall desk, trying to understand how the events of the last forty-eight hours had happened.

Rawle had been improbably understanding about the theft of the USB, as had Howard, who had merely snapped his disapproval, before deciding that the best course of action was the find those responsible – hence the swift detention of Caractacus Bartholomew. Dimitri had been shocked to discover that there wouldn't even be an inquiry into the loss of such an artefact. He'd been sure that he'd be dismissed; that this would spell the end of his career. He'd been packed and ready to leave. But with the arrest of Bart came his exoneration.

However, the last twenty-four hours had woken Dimitri from a very long, very alarming slumber. He was finally seeing clearly, and could see the reason in Ruth and Calum's argument. Everyone had been so keen to believe Bart's guilt – and indeed, he'd been so keen to save his own skin, that there'd been no other lines of enquiry. Now, they had just a few hours before Bart was thrown to the wolves, and in that time, he intended to do all he could to find the real culprit, starting with questioning Jodie.

"We don't know for certain that Bartholomew is the mole," he spoke up suddenly.

Howard turned to him, his thick, wiry brows knitting into a frown, "I thought we'd agreed…"

"I want to talk to Jodie again. Check over her story. I ordered her personnel file, but the paper copy seems to have gone AWOL. The digital will have to do."

"Why Jodie?" Howard asked. "We know Bartholomew was responsible."

"We have Jodie's word and no solid proof."

"We were on the same page yesterday lunch time."

"With respect, sir, yesterday lunch time, my team hadn't been decimated by ruthless terrorists." Guilt seized his heart to think that had he just stayed on the Grid yesterday, maybe he'd have known what was about to go down; maybe he could have at least saved Calum, Zack and Liv from their terrible fates. "Enough innocent lives have been sacrificed. I'm not going to sacrifice another if there's the slightest chance he is innocent."

Howard's face flitted from disbelief to frustration, and finally, to rage. It was clear he resented being made a fool of in front of the Home Secretary, but right now, Dimitri hadn't the energy to care. It was time for the truth. If Ruth and Calum were wrong, then there'd be a time to be contrite later. If they were right… well… Bart didn't have the luxury of time.

"It's your team," Howard ground out, though with his slow, acidic tone, it might as well have been 'Fuck You'.

"Exactly. My team," Dimitri nodded. "Which is why I'm bringing back Ruth Evershed."

Howard looked both catastrophically confused and absolutely incensed. Dimitri could understand why. He was basically reversing all that they'd discussed in their meetings, without the consulting the DG. Howard hadn't been keen on bringing Ruth back in the first place, due to the nature of her departure from MI5. Whilst she'd received a full pardon for the false charges brought against her, the entirety of Section D had also witnessed her breakdown. Dimitri didn't like to tell Ruth, but the select few who had been on the Grid at the same time as her and Harry, still talked about her yelling at the porter charged with clearing out Tariq Masood's desk. And as for the suicide attempt on the Thames House roof… it was deemed 'proof' of how officers could go so spectacularly off the deep end.

Nevertheless, most called her a 'Legend' – in the best way. A handful still viewed her as broken. Tim Howard was unfortunately among those few.

"I'm sorry," Rawle frowned, trying to catch up. "When did Ms Evershed leave?"

"Yesterday," Dimitri said.

"She was fired," Howard elaborated. "Dimitri got rid of her because she disrupted the team and gave him useless intel based on supposition."

"That's not strictly true. My reasons for firing her were selfishly personal."

"Personal?" Rawle enquired.

"I had a brief blip in confidence. I'm now fixing my mistakes."

"Surely bringing Ms Evershed back is a mistake," Howard insisted, fumbling for his mint tin and popping two in his mouth. "She's emotionally unstable."

"She suffered a horrific ordeal, sir. And I'd say she's come out the other side, stronger than ever."

"Oh, come on!"

"I believe in her."

"My wife believes in fairies," Howard snarled. "That doesn't make them true."

"I have faith in her intel."

"And what about what we discussed?"

"I was angry and let my personal feelings affect my work. It won't happen again."

"Except it keeps happening, Dimitri," Howard growled.

"Enough!" Rawle stood, palms raised to command silence. The other two men obeyed. "This is a conversation about personnel that the two of you can have later. We've no time for a slanging match. What matters is that you apprehend this mole quickly. The more the source feeds information through to Alfursan Alarbe, the more likely they'll gain access to one of those locations. Most of the uranium and plutonium has been moved, but a good proportion of that at Sellafield is foreign-owned. And let's just say some of those powers are less willing to permit its transferral."

"I'll talk to Jodie," Dimitri said grimly.

"You're barking up the wrong tree," Howard warned.

"I hope that's true."

"It's a mark of how resourceful these people are that they managed to catch your officers off-guard at both locations," Rawle surmised. "There's no telling when or where they'll strike next."

"That's where Ruth comes in. She has a knack for plucking answers from the bare minimum."

"Or from thin air…" Howard muttered.

Dimitri frowned. Howard had always been perfectly sedate and reasonable before. Granted, he'd been set against Ruth returning. But aside from that, Dimitri had never seen the darker side of Tim Howard. Maybe it was because the Dimitri of before had fallen in line; had become one of those 'yes men' he'd once despised. Well, no more.

"I expect an update at seven o'clock," Rawle told them, and both Dimitri and Howard recognised that as their dismissal.

They rose, nodding. Howard sucked aggressively on his mint and shot Dimitri one last parting glare. He usually offered the younger man a lift. Dimitri noticed that he didn't, this time. No matter. He'd taken his own car anyway.

"By the way, Dimitri," Rawle called suddenly, just as he was about to leave. He turned to meet the Home Secretary's gaze and was surprised to find that his eyes were twinkling. "It's good to see you back to your old self."

Dimitri hesitated. He could have blushed, refuted the Home Secretary's claim, but instead, all he offered was a nod and a small smile.

"It's good to be back."

For all Harry's worries about his old house being irreversibly changed, the reality was, it hadn't changed at all. In fact, it was like stepping six years into the past. The same squashy, old sofa occupied the window bay; familiar magnolia paint adorned the walls, and the kitchen was just as he left it, from the same fridge to the same grey, marble worktops.

He felt a tug in his heart as his lips stretched into a small, satisfied smile. He'd missed the place. He hadn't known it till he stepped inside, but… yes. He'd missed his old house. Simple, but comfortable. A sanctuary after his divorce to Jane; a place where he could reunite with his children, however infrequently they stayed, and, of course, the first place where he and Ruth truly lived together.

"I know that smile," Ruth commented from the doorway.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You missed your little house."

Harry shrugged, "It was just a house. A place to rest my head."

"We're human, Harry," Ruth said, stepping forward to wrap her arms around his middle. "Creatures of habit. We grow attached to the places we live, whether we mean to or not."

"I suppose so," He slid his hands over hers. "It's just missing one thing..."

"Scarlet?"

Harry smiled, "Scarlet."

"Dimitri hasn't mentioned her."

"She's probably gone to doggy Heaven by now," he reasoned sadly, remembering his loyal furry friend. She'd been his constant companion at times when he'd had no one else. "She was quite old."

Ruth smoothed her thumb over his palm, and he allowed the motion to comfort him; to remember his dear little dog with fondness.

"Do you miss your place?" He asked, determined not to dwell on the darkness for long – at least for today. They'd been through enough.

Ruth shrugged, "Not my latter place. Five found it for me, and I wasn't at a stage where I could really… enjoy it. Then… bad memories."

Harry squeezed her hands, trying not to picture her lying naked and bleeding on the cold kitchen floor.

"But my old house – the one I bought when I moved from here from Cheltenham – I miss that. It had some nice little quirks."

"Such as?"

He hadn't spent nearly enough time at that old house to know any of these 'quirks'. They'd still been tiptoeing around each other at the time.

"There was a door that didn't actually go anywhere. When you opened it up, you were confronted with a big brick wall."

"I wonder what it was hiding."

"Mmm. A mysterious house seemed fitting for a mysterious job."

"And a mysterious woman…"

"There's nothing mysterious about me, Harry."

"I disagree. I often wonder what makes Ruth Evershed tick."

"Coffee probably. That 'ticking' is almost certainly heart palpitations."

Harry barked out a small laugh and stooped to kiss his brilliant love. As if on cue, footsteps pounded on the stairs and their adorable little hurricane swept into the room.

"Mummy! Daddy! Please can I have the bedroom above the garden?"

"We'll see," Harry told her. "Catherine's not decided where she's staying yet. She might want it."

"But isn't it first come, first served? That's how it worked with the caravans at the caravan park."

Harry was sure their daughter would be on the school debate team one day. She made a very good argument.

"That's true, but be aware that that used to be Catherine's old room when she came to stay."

"I can't believe you used to live here!" Lottie squealed in awe, and Harry was relieved to see a flash of that old familiar excitement. "And now we get to stay here."

"We'll even go out and get groceries later. There's a shop down the road."

Ruth turned in his arms, frowning, "You're going out? Is that wise?"

"We can't hide forever, sweetheart. It didn't do us much good last time, and meanwhile, we're driving ourselves mad being stuck inside."

Ruth bit her lip, conflicted.

"Hey," he stroked soothing hands up her forearms. "We'll be alright. I'll make sure we're not followed."

"And CCTV?"

"I was a spook for over thirty years, Ruth. I know how to avoid being seen."

Ruth nodded hesitantly, fear writ large in her pale face. Then, without warning, she seized hold of the front of his jacket and looked pleadingly into his eyes.

"You keep her safe."

"Always."

"You keep yourself safe."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I'm serious, Harry."

"So am I."

"The arsehole man's outside," Lottie announced suddenly, and both parents nearly choked. Their six-year-old had clambered up the back of the sofa and was peering through the blinds to get a good look out of the window.

What?

Harry hurried to the window, and suddenly – oh, that made sense. Dimitri Levendis was standing there, in earnest conversation with Malcolm, who had elected to wait in the car to give them some privacy.

"Lottie, you're not to say that word!" Ruth scolded.

"But Daddy said it when that man was here."

Ruth chivvied Lottie away from the window and drew the curtain back in place, "What have I told you about repeating every word your father says?"

"And if anyone comes to the door, Squirt," Harry cautioned, making his way to the hall. "Same rules apply as at home."

"I let you answer it," Lottie recited solemnly.

"Good."

By the time he'd opened the door, Dimitri was standing there, a plastic bag in one hand, the other raised in a fist, poised to knock. The younger man blinked in bewilderment.

"How did you…?"

"Early warning system."

"Our officers always raved about the tech of this place."

"No tech – just a precocious six-year-old. Are you going to stand there all day?"

Dimitri hastily stumbled inside and glanced around as Harry shut the door. It was a strange sense of déjà vu, welcoming Dimitri over the threshold. How many times had they done this in the months leading up to his and Ruth's departure; when they'd become a solid team in the fight against the Levrov-Garrick plot?

"I haven't been here since I picked up Scarlet," The Section Head admitted.

"I was going to ask…"

"I'm afraid she passed some years ago."

Harry withered slightly. He'd known it in his heart, and yet the knowledge of a world without his dear little dog still saddened him.

"She had a good life," Dimitri insisted. "She was spoilt rotten until the end."

"Of course she was," Harry scoffed. "She always expected to be pampered."

"Went through a fair share of my ties too."

"Ah. I should've warned you about that."

Dimitri shrugged, "I hated them anyway."

Harry gestured for him to go through to the sitting room, where they found Ruth sitting Lottie down in front of the television. Flicking through the channels seemed to provide a much-needed escape for the little girl. On their first night at the flat, she'd been awed by the huge difference in channels, and had become quite enamoured with a CBBC programme about a zoo. Lottie loved animals – all animals, including spiders, which was just as well, because a number of large arachnids had invaded their house at the caravan park.

"Dimitri," Ruth rose to meet their guest. "I thought we said three o'clock."

"I thought you'd need a lift."

"You haven't got better things to do than ferry me around?"

"I'm not trusting anyone but me and Malcolm with your location. We play it safe, this time."

Ruth nodded, conceding his point, "Probably for the best. Thank you."

"Any news on Calum?"

"No change."

The dim flicker of hope faded in the Section Head's eyes. His shoulders slumped and he swayed slightly, as if on the verge of collapse. Harry had to admit, the younger man looked even more exhausted than he had in the early hours of that morning. The deep purple bags under his eyes had darkened to an alarming shade of aubergine, and his face was more drawn and haggard than ever.

"I called Erin," Dimitri murmured. "Calum's her friend. I thought she might like to… be with him."

Ruth gave an encouraging smile, "I'm sure she would."

"She's going to visit this afternoon."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

"Did she… say anything else?"

Dimitri cleared his throat and gestured to the door, "Shall we go?"

Ruth was visibly disappointed by Dimitri's swift shutdown, but didn't push. Harry knew how guilty she felt about going to see Erin yesterday and clearly didn't want to rock the boat.

"Sure," she said quietly. "I'll just grab my coat."

She was about to fetch it from the hall banister when Dimitri suddenly remembered the bag in his hand.

"Oh!" He blurted out, delving inside the bag, only to retrieve a rather familiar battered toy. "Your safe house is under investigation, but I managed to salvage this from the scene. I thought it might be special."

"Moo!" Lottie exclaimed, the television all but forgotten as she ran to collect her beloved cuddly cow. "You saved him!" She threw her arms around Dimitri's middle. "Thank you! Thank you!"

Dimitri's pale cheeks flushed, and from the way his lip trembled slightly, Harry thought he might be on the verge of tears. Then, the moment passed, and he cleared his throat, patting Lottie's shoulder with a stiff, yet gentle hand.

"You're welcome. You just take care of him."

"I will," Lottie nodded vigorously, releasing her hold on the bewildered spook.

"That was kind, Dimitri," Ruth smiled. "Thank you."

Dimitri gave a gruff, one-sided shrug, "Rosie has a favourite plushie – even now. We'd never hear the end of it if she lost that."

"Who's Rosie?" Lottie asked, with interest.

What little colour had filled Dimitri's cheeks disappeared, "My…" he cleared his throat again. "My daughter. Well… step-daughter."

"Can I play with her?"

"No, she's… uh… she's at school."

"Oh," Lottie wilted. "I wish I could go back to school."

Ruth glanced at Harry, and he knew immediately that they were on the same page. If this thing went on any longer, they'd have to enrol Lottie at school. However dangerous the situation, they couldn't justify keeping her away from human contact, forever. She was already under a huge amount of strain, and denying her the companionship of children her own age would only add to it.

"I'm… uhhh…" Dimitri replied awkwardly. "I'm sure you will soon."

Lottie nodded dully. She scrutinised him closely then, taking in his rumpled jacket and untamed stubble, "I like you. You're nice."

"Uhhh… thanks?"

"You're not an arsehole."

"Lottie!" Ruth snapped. "What have I just told you?!"

"Daddy said it like it was a bad thing, but he's not bad."

"No, he's not. But if you say that word one more time, Mummy's going to be very cross!"

"Sorry, Mummy," Lottie said solemnly, hanging her head.

Dimitri, however, for the first time that day – for the first time in what Harry suspected to be years, even – laughed. Actually laughed.

"It was nice to meet you," Lottie addressed the Section Head politely, before returning to the TV, Moo flipping this way and that in her hands.

"You too," Dimitri chuckled. He checked that the girl was fully engrossed in her program before he quirked an amused eyebrow at Harry and Ruth. "You've got your hands full there."

"Tell us about it," Harry smiled.

"It's your fault," Ruth accused, digging him in the ribs, though she was also now smiling. "You and your potty mouth."

"Compared to how I used to be, I think I do very well," Harry bantered back.

"I give you an A for Effort, but an F for results."

Dimitri's smile broadened. It was striking how much younger he looked when he wasn't wearing a permanent frown, "I don't think I've appreciated since you got back how… different the two of you are."

"Different?" Harry questioned.

"I don't know… Lighter. Happier. Free to be… in love."

His smile faded at those words, his grim, grey mask falling back into place. Harry wasn't an expert on the private life of Dimitri Levendis, but he could guess what – or rather, who– he was thinking about.

"Are you ready to go?" the younger man asked again, and Ruth took pity on him, nodding and fetching her coat from the banister.

"Ready when you are."

She glanced at Lottie, who was completely mesmerised by the sight of a zookeeper feeding three giant tortoises.

"Lottie, come and give me a hug."

The little girl's head shot up, her expression dampening. The TV was once again forgotten as she realised that this was it. Her mother was going back. She ran over and clung to Ruth, suddenly rather tearful again. "You be a good girl for Daddy and make sure he doesn't get up to any mischief."

"Okay," Lottie agreed miserably.

Ruth gave her baby a squeeze, and Harry didn't fail to notice that her eyes were welling up too, "I love you…"

"To the moon and back," Lottie whispered, holding on with more force than usual.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"Get the Jabberwocky, Mummy, so we can go home."

Ruth's breath trembled slightly as she smiled, "I'll do my best." She released their little girl, tucking her mousy hair back behind her ear, "Get back to your program, darling. It looks like a good one."

"They're… they're not going to fine us, right?" Lottie asked timidly. "It won't happen again?"

Harry's heart broke for their baby. It was wrong for a six-year-old to have to worry about things like that. It was the very reason he'd been so distant from Catherine and Gray as they were growing up. To his mind, the further they were from his life, his job, the safer they were. Yet he also knew, through the luxury of hindsight, how hurt they'd been, how much it had strained their relationship. That wasn't something he intended to repeat. He'd just have to figure out another way to protect Lottie.

"That won't ever happen again," Ruth told their daughter firmly. "Daddy and I will never let anything bad happen to you, my darling."

"But what about you? What if something bad happens to you?"

"I'm going to be fine. I've got Uncle Dimitri, here, to look after me."

Dimitri looked just as bewildered at being referred to as 'Uncle' as Calum and Malcolm had, but didn't miss a beat, stepping forward to offer a reassuring smile.

"Go on," Ruth coaxed the little girl gently. "Go watch your program. I want to know at least three facts about giant tortoises when I get back."

Lottie nodded, consoled by Ruth's promises. With one last woeful glance at her mother, she returned to the TV.

Ruth watched her go, baleful and bereft. Harry couldn't bear to see his love so despondent, so he stepped forward and kissed her, lovingly and tenderly, not even caring that Dimitri was watching. He caressed the smooth plane of her cheek and rested his forehead briefly against hers, "Go give these bastards hell, sweetheart."

"I will. You take care of our family."

"You know I will."

Ruth pulled back and Harry let her go, reluctantly. He could see that she was struggling; that she had been ever since they arrived back in England. And as always, she was too stubborn to let him in; she had to prove herself, prove how strong she was. But Harry knew from experience that even the strongest and brightest of agents would have broken after yesterday's attack. And Ruth already carried more than her fair share of trauma. He was terrified that she'd taken on too much; that she was in danger of spiralling back down into the murky depths of the depression in which she'd found herself six years ago.

He kissed her once more, because he had to, needed to with all his soul, and then finally let her go. Ruth shot him a small, grim smile, which he knew meant, 'I have to go. But I love you.' Then, she squeezed his arm once before opening the door and stepping outside. Dimitri followed.

"Dimitri…" The plea was out of Harry's lips before he could stop himself.

The Section Head turned and for all his recent insensitivity, read the fear brimming in the older man's eyes.

"I'll look after her, Harry," he vowed quietly. "I promise."

Harry managed a small, grudging nod and Dimitri exited, leaving the door open for Harry to see them off. He watched Ruth go, wondering if she knew that whenever she left, the other half of his heart went with her.

She probably did.

He was just becoming a sentimental old sod.

A.N. Hope people are still enjoying this story. More soon.