25th September 1991, 1 pm

140 Gower Street, London

It had all gone smoothly, in the end – a textbook operation. Sophie had been convincing and Harry hadn't had to intervene to protect anyone. She's now back in their interrogation rooms, Mark having picked her up again first thing in the morning. Thankfully, the hope of keeping her job is making her cooperate. Everything needs to appear normal for the next couple of days, with Sophie going to work as normal, though they, obviously, can't allow her access to any important information any longer. Her home has been put under full surveillance with wire taps and everything, and Coolidge has arranged for a brief secondment to their section, so no one is any the wiser about what's going on.

As for Jenna, Harry had been quite masterful in plotting his revenge. And, whereas Ruth has felt a little sorry for Sophie throughout all this, she'd had no sympathy for Jenna whatsoever as she'd watched Harry expose her.

Someone very cleaver at MI-5 had probably foreseen a situation just like this one and, when the interrogation rooms had been built, one of them had been designed with an observation room to monitor the observation rooms on either side of it. Coolidge and Malcolm had occupied this room before Harry had collected Jenna.

Ruth had only been there by accident, and in many ways, she'd really wished that she hadn't witnessed any of it. Malcolm had rung her, asking for a file that he'd left with her earlier, so she'd taken it down to him, hurrying along the corridor – which, frankly, gave her the creeps with its weird, disorienting lighting – quickly rounding the corner, and only narrowly avoiding a collision with a lip locked Harry and Jenna. In fact, they'd been engaged in a full on snog with hands grasping and wandering, Harry's strong body pinning her against the wall, his back exposed where Jenna had untucked and lifted his shirt.

Ruth had gasped, blushed, and stammered an apology, ducking her head and hurrying past them, desperately trying to push away the image of them together, Jenna's triumphant giggle only making her feel worse. She was sure she could feel Harry's gaze on her back as she hurried away, clutching the file.

"Harry?" Jenna's voice had sounded a little annoyed as she'd turned another corner in the corridor and stopped, leaning heavily against the wall, desperately trying to recover her equilibrium, desperately trying not to cry.

Bloody Harry sodding Pearce!

"You just said you only have eyes for me, yet you're still staring after her!"

Her heart had leapt to hear that and her stomach had plummeted as everything clicked into place and she'd realised that she's in love with him. Harry Pearce. Of all the people she could have fallen for, why did it have to be him?

"Sorry." Harry's low voice – such a sexy voice too – reached her ears. "I was thinking. This isn't very professional, Jenna. I'm sorry. I should never have suggested with do this here. It could really ruin your reputation."

"Sod professionalism and sod my reputation." Jenna's voice sounded happier. "Kiss me some more."

"Later. Come on. I have something to show you."

And that's when Ruth had realised that they'd began moving again, their footsteps echoing along the corridor towards her! Quickly and stealthily, she'd hurried along, thankfully reaching the concealed door to the observation mainframe – as Malcolm had called it when he'd first given her a tour of the interrogation area – and disappearing into it before they'd rounded the corner to see her. It wouldn't do for Jenna to know this room wasn't empty. Ruth had had a brief moment of worry that Jenna might have enough sense to wonder where she'd got to, but thankfully, the corridor outside is continuous, running round the entire base of the building in a long rectangle with rooms branching off on either side, and Jenna would have known that, if Ruth followed the corridor all the way round, she'd find herself at the lifts again.

"Ah, Ruth. Good," Coolidge had said without turning to look at her.

Malcolm had smiled his crooked smile and taken the folder she'd held out to him with a quiet thank you.

"Take a seat," Coolidge had invited. "Can't risk them seeing you leaving."

The room was narrow and long, barely wide enough to accommodate the desk with the computers and recording equipment, some chairs, and leave enough space to walk through behind them. There were no windows in here or mirrors. In fact, it resembled a closet more than anything else, and Ruth had briefly wondered if that's what had been its original purpose, when she'd first seen it. Malcolm hadn't known, but he'd confided that there used to be one-way mirrors installed in here too, to watch the occupants of the observation rooms on either side, but as recording equipment had become more sophisticated over time, they'd given up on the mirrors as being too obvious and opted for pinpoint cameras instead. This had allowed them to observe all the interrogation rooms and observation rooms in the building, so it was much more advantageous all around.

There were cameras everywhere down here and they could clearly see Harry and Jenna's progress down the corridor she'd just left towards the observation room beside theirs, and it was with much alarm and renewed anxiety that she'd realised Coolidge and Malcolm must have witnessed her brief moment of weakness in the corridor just now. How much did they glean from her sudden lack of composure? The thought of everyone knowing how she feels about Harry had made her feel sick, and if she'd been anywhere else, she would have bolted. As things stood, however, there was nowhere to go until Harry and Jenna had entered the room next door. Indeed, the moment they did, she'd reached for the door-handle, but Coolidge had stopped her.

"Not yet," he'd said, again without turning to face her. Did the man have eyes on the back of his head? "In fact, stay. This might prove instructive."

And that was that. She couldn't very well leave now, so she'd taken a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and focused on the camera feeds, taking a seat on the other side of Malcolm and slipping on the headphones he held out to her.

"But that's Sophie!" Jenna was saying, staring through the one-way mirror into the interrogation room beyond. "Harry there must be some mistake. She wouldn't hurt a fly. You can't think that-"

"She's confessed."

"Confessed to what?"

"Being a mole. Passing on information to terrorists."

"Terrorists? What terrorists?"

It had been quite satisfying to see and hear the fear begin to creep into Jenna's voice.

"The Bond group."

Harry was no longer smiling. In fact, he looked much the same as he'd done the other day when he'd interrogated Sophie – intense, unyielding, angry, yet totally, dangerously in control.

"Harry, I..." Jenna had tried to reach out and touch his arm, but he'd knocked her hand out of the air with such speed, she hadn't seen it coming. It reminded Ruth of when she'd first met him – the way the speed and agility of his movements had impressed her then.

"Her, I understand. She was doing it for family. You, though! What did you get out of it, Jenna?" Again his voice had turned soft and menacing, making Jenna recoil a little.

"You think I helped her?!"

"I know you did."

"You know no such thing. You can't prove it." Jenna's voice was getting panicky as she took a few steps back from him.

"Sophie told us, Jenna."

"That doesn't prove anything. She made it up. It's not true."

"And Ruth overheard your conversation by the cooler the other day." Harry had delivered the blow with grim satisfaction.

"Oh, so your girlfriend's backing you up. What a surprise! She just wants to get even with me for-"

"Not everyone is as shallow as you, Jenna. Nor are they as petty. Ruth Evershed has proved herself to be a far better agent that you will every be – a stronger character, a better person."

"Please! You're just saying that because you want her."

If the best line of defence is offence, Jenna was doing well, but Ruth couldn't tell if what she was saying was affecting Harry.

"I do want her," he'd replied, making Ruth's jaw slacken in shock and her cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment. "I want her on my team. I want her on my side. Hiring Ruth was the best decision Coolidge has ever made. You might well be his worst one."

That had shut Jenna up nicely and, while she was on the back foot, Harry had continued. "She approached two armed men, without regard for her own safety, to save me. And what did you do, Jenna? You thoughtlessly talked about an active operation with someone without clearance. You almost got me killed! With friends like you, who needs enemies?"

Jenna's face only hardened as he talked, displaying no emotion. Ruth was sure she'd have broken down in tears herself, but then she's not a trained field agent.

"You're no longer denying it, I see," Harry had added after a moment.

"What's the point? You're determined to pin it all on me anyway."

"Suit yourself. It might go better for you if you admitted your mistake though and showed some remorse. You might yet be able to salvage your career."

Jenna had laughed. "I know you, Harry. There's no way you'd let that happen. You don't like that I almost had you, and you'll make me pay, so you can feel manly again."

This time, Ruth's jaw had dropped in shock. Beside her, Malcolm had gasped, and Coolidge had raised an eyebrow.

Harry's nostrils had flared. "Had me?" His voice was dangerously low again.

"If Connie hadn't stopped you, you'd be wrapped around my little finger now and we both know it."

His eyes had narrowed. "Hardly."

"There are many ways to manipulate a man, Harry. His cock is one of them. Guilt is another. You'd have felt so guilty for using a junior officer, you'd have done anything I asked you to afterwards."

Ruth had raised her eyebrows in surprise and Malcolm had whistled.

"Bloody woman," Coolidge had fumed, for a moment forgetting she was present. "I knew she had potential."

"Hardly potential, Sir," Malcolm had replied, frowning at his superior. "She has the moral back-bone of a jelly-fish."

Coolidge hadn't responded, but Ruth had had the feeling that he was plotting something, the gears of his brilliant mind turning at lightning speed. Somehow, she knew that Jenna wasn't going to be dismissed from the service. She rather thought they'd find a different place for her – black ops perhaps – train her for a different type of operation, one requiring the moral back-bone of a jelly-fish.

"You're finished, Jenna," Harry had responded flatly, bringing their attentions back to the occupants of the room.

"Perhaps," she'd replied somewhat enigmatically. "Shame about us though. I'd have enjoyed shagging you."

Ruth's stomach had threatened to revolt at that.

"I've lost my appetite," he'd replied, his face still a mask of control.

"I bet you have. You're too good, Harry, too loyal. Watch out for that. It makes it far too easy to manipulate you." His eyes had narrowed. "What? I like you and, despite what you might think, I'm one of the good guys."

"You planned this whole thing?"

"Of course not. I'm just making the best of a bad situation."

"You didn't intend to cause my death then?"

"Hardly. I intended to shag you."

"Why?"

"Because you're passionate and you kiss really well. You must be a good lay. I was looking forward to multiple orgasms."

"And the passing on of information to Sophie?"

"An accident. I'm not very professional, remember?" She'd winked at him, causing Ruth to want to storm in and punch her lights out.

Harry had pursed his lips. "Well, you might be telling the truth, Jenna, but then again you might be lying. I don't know and, frankly, I don't care. You've proved yourself unworthy of my trust, or a place in Section D."

"Funny, but last time I checked, you weren't Head of this section."

Harry had smiled. "Give it time, Jenna. Give it time." Ruth had glanced at Coolidge at that to see him quietly smiling, clearly pleased to hear Harry say that. Had he singled Harry out already to succeed him? Ruth hadn't considered Harry as a Section Head before, but in an odd kind of way, she'd found herself thinking he'd be well suited to the job provided he could cope with the politicians. But Harry was speaking again, so she'd stopped her mind wondering and focused on what he was saying. "Do you really think bringing you down here was my own initiative, Jenna?"

Jenna had visibly faltered at that, making Harry laugh.

"You may be making the best of a bad situation, but I was born ready to deal with traitors like you. You might weasel your way out of this one now, but remember – one day I'll be the one in charge here and there will be hell to pay for people like you when the time comes." And as if on cue, Mark had entered the room putting an end to their tête-a-tête and almost making Ruth jump, so engrossed had she become in Harry's speech that she hadn't noticed him make his way down the hallway. "Take her away," Harry had said. "We're done here." And with that parting remark, he's swept out of the room, his strong strides echoing along the corridor as Ruth watched him walk away, his face grim and determined.

Coolidge had clapped his hands and grinned, making her jump and turn to look at him. "Excellent," he'd said before getting up and striding from the room, leaving her alone with Malcolm.

"Excellent?" she'd echoed, turning to him.

Malcolm had smiled. "He's pleased with Harry. He's been trying to get him to consider moving behind a desk for ages now. This is the first time Harry's shown any inclination of wanting to do that."

"But..." she'd tailed off, frowning in confusion.

"There's a silver lining to everything, I suppose," Malcolm had replied sagely, turning back to the computer.

She hadn't stayed long after that, remaining just long enough to see Mark strip Jenna of her security cards and personal effects in another interrogation room, leaving her to stew in her own juice while she waited for Coolidge to decide what to do with her.

Back upstairs, she'd immersed herself in other work, pushing aside all thoughts of Harry and Jenna and Sophie and the emotional quagmire she now found herself immersed in. And she'd succeeded quite nicely until her stomach had began to rumble as lunch time approached and she finds herself unable to ignore it any longer. She could use a break for a few minutes really, both mentally and physically, though emotionally she rather thinks she needs more of a vacation. She's got an awful lot to sort through in that department and she's dreading the moment she goes home and has to address some part of it.

She gets up and stretches, looking for someone to share her lunch break with, but finding none of her friends in the immediate vicinity. Judy, when asked, tells her she hasn't seen Malcolm and that Connie and Nancy both left earlier for their lunch break. Resigned to eating by herself then, she grabs her coat and bag and leaves the building.

Her feet carry her to the river and along its banks, enjoying the crisp air and the invigorating walk, thinking this is just what she needed to clear away the cobwebs. She's just about decided that everything will be fine, when she spies Harry leaning against the low wall up ahead, quietly contemplating the river.

Her first instinct is to turn away, but inexplicably she finds herself doing just the opposite, her feet carrying her over to him, stopping a few feet away from him, suddenly indecisive. Just as she's about to turn around and leave, however, he turns his head and catches her eye, giving her a small smile. She can't leave now, so she draws closer, turning to lean against the wall beside him, leaving a respectable distance of about a yard between them.

"You okay?" she asks him. She seems to be asking him that a lot lately.

"Yes." He doesn't sound okay.

Ruth swallows. "I'm sorry she betrayed you, Harry. You liked her. That must make it extra hard for you." The innuendo in the sentence doesn't hit her until after the words have escaped her lips and she has to turn quickly to look across the water, silently kicking herself and trying not to blush, desperately hoping he hasn't noticed.

"It is what it is. I'll get over it." His jaw is set, his face closed off, when she glances at him.

"Right."

"For the record, I wouldn't say I liked her all that much."

She frowns. "Oh. Sorry, I thought..."

"Oh, I wanted to bed her. She's right about that. But liking has nothing to do with it."

She stares at him, wondering why he's telling her these things and if there's a hidden message for her in there somewhere.

"Right," she says again, looking across the water.

"You're very wise to stay away from me, Ruth," he murmurs softly, and when she turns to look, he's rubbing his face with his hands as he leans against the wall beside her, an air of defeat emanating from him.

"I'm not staying away from you," she finds herself saying. "I like you. Like she said, you're good and you're loyal, and that's important."

He's turned to look at her, as she speaks, his features neutral, giving nothing away, and yet, there's some emotion in his eyes that he's keeping a tight lid on, which she can't quite identify.

"You've known me all of three weeks, Ruth," he points out softly, a teasing smile on his lips.

"Well," she turns away, blushing, "you made a strong impression."

He doesn't say anything more, just continues to gaze at her as she stares out across the Thames.

"When I called out to that man, I didn't give myself much time to think. It was pure instinct. But then afterwards, when you... took him down so quickly and efficiently, and I was hiding away – bloody terrified, actually – I started to wonder if I'd done the right thing. If I'd helped the right person." She looks at him to find him keenly watching her. "Do you know how I knew I had?"

"No."

"You yelled at me to get down when the gun went off. You cared about my safety."

He smiles at her. "Even guardian angels need the occasional reminder to stay safe," he teases.

She chuckles. "Yes, we do."

A contented kind of silence settles between them for a few moments as they each turn to gaze across the water. She feels like she could stay like this forever.

"How's your flat hunting going?" he asks after a little while.

She makes a face. "Alright. It's time consuming, but I'm sure I'll find something eventually."

"The one close to mine didn't work out?"

"No."

"I hope it wasn't because-"

"Of course not," she says quickly. "It turned out to be quite noisy at night. That's all."

He smiles. "You went back at night to check it out again?"

"Well, yes. I'm mainly going to be needing it at night, so it makes sense to see what it's like then. I thought everyone did that."

His gaze softens, taking on a honeyed hue, his lips smiling fondly. "I don't and I very much doubt that anyone else does either. I suspect it's only people with brilliant minds like yours who are that sensible in their flat hunting."

She blushes and looks away quickly, feeling self-conscious. Before she can figure out how to respond, however, her stomach rumbles loudly, causing Harry to chuckle. "Still hungry?" he asks.

"Haven't had lunch yet," she confesses.

"Neither have I," he admits with a smile. "Where would you like to eat?"

She hesitates and watches as he falters. "Sorry. I didn't mean to presume. It's fine if-"

"No, I'd like you to join me," she says quickly, fighting the urge to kiss him. He's so adorable when he's uncertain of where he stands and it happens so rarely with Harry. "I was just thinking about options for food."

He smiles. "Right. Well, there's a little known Indian place I happen to know about that does a mean curry, or-"

"A curry sounds wonderful, actually." She smiles up at him, getting lost in his eyes for a moment. What is it about this man? Why is he so attractive when she knows that loving him can only lead to heartbreak? Everything about him has convinced her that he's not the type of man who's looking for commitment and, without that, there is no future with him. She's so tired of this pattern. When will she fall in love with someone who's in it for the long-haul? When will she finally fall for a man who won't leave her, like her father?