Assistance From The Other Side

Ruth was in a very good mood. It was hard not to be nowadays. Things had finally settled down on the Grid. After the horrific trauma to them all of Fiona's death and Adam's subsequent breakdown because of it, they'd all finally found some normalcy.

Fiona had come to visit Ruth, just as all of the deceased seemed to when she had anything to do with their loved ones. Danny's death had been harder on Ruth personally, but Fiona's had been far more tragic in the aftermath; she left behind a husband and a child. And she had asked Ruth to look after them. She did the best she could, making casseroles in her spare time and taking them to the Carter house to make sure Adam and Wes were being fed. She'd asked Harry to help out, too, though obviously she did not tell him it was on Fiona's instruction.

But Fiona, like all the ghosts, eventually thanked Ruth for her help and faded away. Adam was doing better now, and Wes—while missing his mother, of course—seemed to be handling everything quite well, all things considered.

And Ruth, ever since having invited Harry over to hers after the Gary Hicks debacle following Clive McTaggert's death, had been enjoying her personal life for the first time since moving to London. She and Harry had been spending quite a lot of their time together. Never on the Grid, never letting anyone know that there was anything between them. But a few times a week, she would go over to his or he would show up at hers, and they'd spend the evening together.

Tonight in particular, Ruth felt a bliss like she'd never known. Harry had ordered Chinese food for them, and it was waiting when she'd arrived at his place. They shared a bottle of wine and traded boxes of rice and noodles while sitting on the sofa together, eating right out of the boxes. His dog, Scarlett, had gone between the two of them begging for scraps. Ruth wanted to give the little dog a bit of beef, but Harry stopped her, saying she was overweight and this was not a habit he wanted to encourage in her.

"If I recall correctly, Harry, you seem to like it when a woman begs. Does that not apply with dogs?" she teased.

Harry laughed, "No, Ruth, it certainly doesn't. And my appreciation of a woman begging for me is only under limited circumstances."

"Ah yes, of course," she agreed with a cheeky grin.

"Namely, I like it when you beg for me while you're naked and dripping wet," he added, growling into her ear.

Ruth had lost her appetite for food at that point. She put down the takeaway box and swallowed down the last few sips of the wine in her glass. "I think we've finished dinner now," she announced.

Harry had a very smug look on his face and the beginnings of an erection in his pants as he cleared away their food and drink—saving it from the dog—and dragged Ruth upstairs to his bedroom.

She had thought about it, lying there with the sweat cooling on their bodies as Harry was dozing in her arms. She had never been so happy than she was in that right exact moment. While there was nothing at all official between them, no discussion of their relationship or what the future might hold for them, Ruth had no doubt that Harry loved her. And she knew with a certainty that almost frightened her that she loved him.

"Harry," she murmured, giving him a small shove. "I've got to get up."

"No you don't," he argued. His eyes were still closed and he was holding her tight. His slurred speech was evidence of his exhaustion.

She laughed lightly. "I do, Harry. I've got to go home and sleep so I can get up for work tomorrow."

"Stay," he mumbled, nuzzling into her neck and placing lazy kisses there.

"I don't have any clothes here. I can't stay," she reminded him.

With a defeated grumble, Harry rolled over and left her free to get out of his bed. He rubbed his eyes to wake himself, and she knew why. He liked to watch her walk around his bedroom naked. Yet another thing that made her love him. No man had ever made her feel so desired and adored like this. She smiled at him over her shoulder as she walked from the bed into the bathroom. She was happy.

When she left the bathroom, Harry had her clothes folded and waiting for her on the end of the bed. He himself had put on his trunks, but otherwise left himself bare. He kissed her and went downstairs to give Scarlett her dinner so Ruth could get dressed in peace. She met him in the kitchen to thank him for the evening. He kissed her one last time by the front door before she had to go back out into the night.

The drive home was uneventful, save for Ruth's good mood. She would have liked to stay at Harry's, and he certainly had wanted her to, but they both would have been grumpy in the morning, rushing around so she could get home and showered and dressed before work. For now, their circumstances were much better this way. And he'd probably come by hers tomorrow night anyway.

In the end, it was a very good thing that Ruth had gone home. Her happy smile faded when she saw the slip of paper she kept in the door jamb as a crude security measure was on the ground. Someone was inside her house.

"Dad?" she whispered. He usually came when she called. He left her be when she was with Harry, thankfully, but he usually came by again when she got home. But he didn't answer.

Terrified, Ruth got her mace at the ready and entered her home. She slowly went through the entryway and into the sitting room.

"Ruth, it's alright. It's me, Angela."

It was the voice of Angela Wells, a voice Ruth knew very well. It did not, however comfort her.

"I didn't want to startle you, Ruthie. I didn't want to leave her alone, just in case. She's unarmed. You're safe."

Dad's voice was very comforting. And knowing that he was there and making sure Angela didn't pose a threat was the only thing that made her feel at all better about Angela bloody Wells breaking into her home.

Ruth lowered the mace. "Put the light on."

"I thought I'd wait for you in the warm," Angela said.

"I said, put the light on," Ruth repeated forcefully.

Angela did as Ruth said and then made some snide remarks about the lack of security on Ruth's house. Ruth barely listened, glancing between Angela sitting in the armchair and Dad on the sofa, watching Angela's every move. Funny, Dad might have made a good spook in another life.

Ruth was then reminded of the date. That a whole year had gone by since Peter's death. She felt immediately guilty for not remembering it. Though it did remind her of one very glaring thing.

Peter had been dead a whole year and had never come to visit her.

Not that she'd wanted him to. He'd caused her enough trouble in life. She didn't need him to cause more trouble in his death. But if he had, Ruth might have been able to do something to help Angela. For all that she'd been hostile and vaguely rude to Ruth in all the time she'd known him, it was quite plain that the woman in front of her was hurting badly. Ruth had been hardened by the Service, but she was still made weak by the pain of others. Pain caused by Peter. Pain caused by loving Peter. Ruth could understand that better than anyone.

"I'll put the kettle on," Ruth said softly.

The two women sat in Ruth's sitting room, Dad quietly in his place on the sofa beside Ruth, still watching Angela. Angela then told Ruth about the plot to kill Princess Diana, how Peter knew about it, how Peter had never gotten over it. And then Angela took the microdot off her tooth and Ruth fetched her stolen MD reader. Ruth wanted nothing to do with this ridiculous conspiracy theory about the Security Service murdering the princess. But she also knew that she couldn't just tell Angela Wells to get out of her house. She'd need to see what all this was for.

Ruth looked through the reader. "Contingent Events Committee," she read. And then a phrase jumped out at her. "This is a No Eyes document. It's meant to be destroyed after it's read."

"It was in Peter's things," Angela explained.

"How did he get it?"

"From Diana herself."

"And how did she get it?"

"She was a very clever woman."

Ruth was very nearly fed up with this whole thing. "Angela, you could go to jail!"

But Angela just chuckled lightly. "Why do you think I microfilmed it and hid it in my tooth?"

"It's not funny," Ruth snapped.

"Read the next page," Angela instructed.

With no other excuse not to, Ruth did as she was told. It was titled Assassination of P.D., which Angela said stood for Princess Diana. And on that page was listed the name of a member: Harry Pearce.

But this was insanity. Ruth had never heard of the Contingent Events Committee. But Angela was telling her about the date in the file number, April 13, 1997. How Ruth should check Harry's diary from that time to see what it said, how they should start the investigation there in to the scandal.

Ruth refused. Angela told her to do it for Peter. Ruth certainly refused that. Angela told her to do it for country. Ruth had more difficulty refusing that, but she did. And thankfully, Angela left.

"It's all true, Ruth."

She whirled around to see Peter standing there, just where Angela had been before she'd walked out the front door. "Peter, go away," Ruth commanded. Her heart was going to beat out of her chest, she knew. Having him here was the last thing she needed. Especially now.

"Listen to Angela, Ruth. Help her prove me right. I am right. I know I am. I spent seven years trying to find the information that would show what happened to Diana. That's why they fired me, because Diana got ahold of that document that Angela just showed you, and she asked for my help! They killed her, and I—"

"Stop it!" Ruth shouted, cutting him off. "You were fired because you were an alcoholic, Peter. You were fired from a job you were barely qualified to do in the first place, and you're using a conspiracy theory as an excuse!"

He shook his head in disgust. "This is why I didn't come see you before. You never took my side. You never let yourself trust me."

"Any why do you think that is, Peter?" she snarled back.

"Him!" he shouted, pointing to the sofa.

Dad, who had been a quite observer until now, stood up and took his place beside Ruth. "You'd better leave now, son," he warned quietly.

Peter scoffed, but did not oppose him. Ruth blinked, and Peter was gone.

"Ruth," Dad began.

But she couldn't listen to any of this now. She shook her head and walked away. "I'm going to bed. I've got work in the morning. Goodnight."

She did not look behind her, but she knew he'd gone. He'd be back, though. He always was. Ruth trudged up the stairs to her bedroom to take a hot shower and get into bed. She sighed as she turned on the water. She'd been so happy. But not anymore.


Harry slept marvelously that night. He'd have slept better if Ruth was still in his arms, but having the smell of her in his sheets was good enough under the circumstances. She was right, of course, she had to go home. He considered whether he might offer to have her keep some of her things at his so that she would be able to stay over sometimes. But that would then lead to the awkwardness of whether they'd arrive to Thames House together and everything that went along with it. Their love life was incredible and made Harry happier than he had any right to be, but life on the Grid continued on just as it always had. He was in charge, she was an analyst, and that was all there was to it.

The day went by without anything noteworthy. Harry was in meetings with the DG in the morning and was back on the Grid in the afternoon. His field officers were on observation of an asset and bored out of their minds. Ruth was doing translations and whatever else she did with her days to dazzle them all when they needed her to be dazzling. Jo Portman was getting a little experience and coming along very nicely as an officer.

He had been talking to Malcolm and Colin in the forgery suite when he heard Adam's voice. The team was back and he needed an update, so he thanked Malcolm and went down the hall. But as he approached, he saw that Juliet had arrived with none other than Angela bloody Wells.

Harry's blood practically boiled to see her. She'd been an incredible agent back in the day. Worked alongside him longer than he would have liked. But Harry advanced and Angela didn't want to. She liked working in the field, and unlike him, she kept in proper condition. If it weren't for his blasted knee, he'd have wanted to continue as she had. There were all sorts of rumors about her, though, that she'd had a tumultuous relationship with an ex-member of Royal Protection. Angela was actually one of the few women who had worked with him in those days that he hadn't slept with. She was certainly pretty enough, but there was an edge to her that made her a dangerous agent and supremely unattractive to him. He always got the sense that there was more to Angela than met the eye. But it did not intrigue him. It scared him. He had never liked Angela, and seeing her on the Grid made him quite uneasy.

And then speaking of people with more than met the eye, lovely Ruth was sitting at her desk as Harry approached. Angela greeted her by name and Ruth responded. But there was a wariness to her expression. A look of terror. Harry didn't like that look at all.

Juliet Shaw explained that she smuggled Angela in, as she no longer had access after her retirement. And as soon as Juliet left, Harry knew he wanted to get Angela alone and see what the hell she was doing here and why it should make Ruth so frightened.

"No," Ruth shouted as Harry tried to lead Angela away from the fawning group. "Get her out of here. Now!"

"Ruth, what's the problem?" Harry asked, immediately turning back to go to her.

It was then that Angela revealed her purpose. She rattled off the specs of the explosives and detonator she'd brought, making Malcolm translate its meaning for the rest of them. She made Harry call a lockdown exercise to cut off communication lines. She made them all drop their mobiles in the water cooler. And then she made Ruth explain what she was doing.

Diana. This was all about Princess Diana. And Angela's crackpot idea that Harry himself had chaired a committee that organized and ordered the assassination of the princess. Peter Haigh knew about it, supposedly, and Angela claimed he was fired for it before he could prove it. And now, all these years later, Angela had come to exact revenge, demanding all of the information about the scandalous 'truth' she was fixated on.

She'd taken Jo and the explosives and her detonator into the meeting room and left the rest of them to get her what she wanted with Adam checking in every half hour with updates on their progress for her.

Harry had taken charge, telling Adam to take the lead on the investigation and the plan for dealing with Angela. Harry himself would take on profiling Angela. At least that's what he told the team. Really, he wanted to look into her, yes, but also into Ruth. Ruth knew more than she was letting on, and she and Angela obviously had a past. A past connected by Peter Haigh. They might be able to use that, and he knew better than to ask Ruth about personal matters. She could be quite cagey when she wanted to be, and there was much of her past that she might insist that nothing interesting happened to her before Five, but Harry knew better than that. A person was not as intriguing as Ruth and certainly not as sad if there wasn't something in her past.

He began with Angela, however, because her file was much larger and older and there was far more in it than with Ruth's. He'd have to start there.

He'd not gotten very far, however, when Adam and Ruth came into his office to interrupt him, handing him a folder with blown up microdot documents about the Contingent Events Committee. He'd have to see how to play this one. Ruth was looking very nervous. Glancing around the room from him to a spot next to his desk and back to him. She did that sometimes. Got distracted. He never quite understood it, and it was more than a little annoying in times like this when it was very important.

Harry denounced the documents as fakes, asking casually where they'd come from. Adam evaded that question and asked if there was anything useful about Angela. So far, nothing. But Harry had a long way to go.


Ruth had gotten up early to deal with the microdot and request Harry's old diary from the registry. Peter had not shown up again, but she kept expecting him to. Dad stayed close by, keeping quiet. She didn't ask him to leave her alone. He usually didn't join her at work, but she was glad to have him with her now.

The day went by just fine. She had a lot of translation work to do, so she had to put all of Angela's nonsense aside until that was finished. Jo was pestering her a bit, but Ruth was just so distracted. It wasn't Jo's fault. Jo was sweet, and Ruth had really liked making a new friend in someone young and fresh and enthusiastic still. She missed Sam Buxton very much; the two women had always got on, and Ruth hoped she could have a friend like that in Jo. Just not today.

Harry's diary showed an unlabeled meeting, which was quite suspicious. The documents from the microdot were equally so. She asked Adam what the Contingent Events Committee was, but he'd never heard of it either. He'd said to ask Harry, but that was the last thing she wanted to do. She'd figure out what to do later. It was almost time to go home.

Only she couldn't go home. Juliet Shaw arrived with Angela in tow. And then all hell broke loose. Before Ruth knew it, Angela had gotten Harry to lock down the Grid and cut off all communication. She'd taken Jo into the meeting room, handcuffed to an Italian handbag lined with explosives while the detonator remained in Angela's hand.

And worse than that, Peter was back. At first, he didn't say anything. He didn't do anything. But he appeared by Angela's side and watched with a proud, loving expression as she made herself the enemy to everyone in the room with her threats. And even when she said she wanted to die, Peter's expression did not change. He seemed happier, even, at that. As though he could not wait for her to join him in death. If Ruth hadn't been around a whole crowd of her colleagues, she would have screamed at him then and there.

Dad and Peter both followed Ruth when she went into the hallway to talk to Adam and tell him what she'd found. Dad looked worried. Peter looked excited.

They brought it all to Harry, who denied that the Contingent Events Committee ever existed.

"He's lying! Ruth, you've got to know that he's lying!" Peter yelled, finally breaking his silence.

"Hush, stop distracting her," Dad scolded.

Ruth glanced at them both, trying to listen to Harry but getting distracted by their bickering.

"Come on, Ruthie, do something! Say something!" Peter implored.

It took everything in her not to snap at him for that. How dare he call her that! Dad looked absolutely livid. Angrier than Ruth had ever seen him. But she knew why. He was the only one who called her Ruthie. Hearing it from Peter was an insult to Ruth and Dad both. And besides, Dad hated Peter. Always had, and Ruth should have done better in heeding his warnings before.

Adam took Ruth out of Harry's office and told her that he thought the committee was real and they needed incontrovertible evidence. Dad and Peter were still bickering as they followed her, but she tuned them out. She had to get her research done. She needed proof.

But first Zaf had found the way. She and Adam and Dad and Peter and Malcolm all stood there and listened to the way MI5 and MI6 conspired to kill Princess Diana.

"You see!?" Peter cried triumphantly.

Ruth once again struggled not to react to him in a way anyone would notice.

"I told you. I tried to tell them all, I knew, the princess knew, they were up to something! The British government killed her, and that's how," Peter exclaimed.

"Stop that. This is just the story they're going to tell. It's not true," Dad argued.

"How on earth is that not true? You heard it!" Peter insisted.

Dad shook his head. "You know, you're getting on my nerves, boy."

"Just you wait." Peter's head was held up in defiance. Ruth wished she could slap him across the face for his arrogance. Dad was right, this was only the story. It couldn't be true. Harry would set them to rights somehow. Even though this was work and they were not at home and she could not curl up into his arms, she knew that he would not have been a part of something like this. She could not love him if he were the sort of person to do something like this.

Ruth went back to her computer and found the names of deleted files that proved that the Contingent Events Committee existed. Her heart sank, even as Peter crowed with validation.

Suddenly, Angela came storming through with Jo trailing along. She'd discovered that Malcolm and Colin were trying to get through the walls. She threw them out of the copy room and plopped Jo and herself on the floor beside the hole. She then reminded them that they had till dawn before she would activate the detonator.

Adam did not want to waste any more time. He took Ruth—and, unknowingly, her deceased family members—back to Harry's office.

"Harry. You denied it to Angela's face. Tactical reasons, I can see that. But I have to ask you again: did you ever serve on the Contingent Events Committee?" Adam asked.

When he didn't answer right away, Ruth stepped in. "This is a printout from the registry computer. The record of the meeting was overwritten, but I have retrieved mention of it."

Harry peered at her with narrowed, suspicious eyes. His mouth was pursed with his feeling of betrayal. But Ruth saw something else in his eyes. Barely there. A small glint of what she knew to be pride. She'd found the answer where none could be found, just as she always did, and she knew it delighted Harry every time. Just a little bit. Even now.

She continued, "Also, this is your diary from 1997. Thirteenth of April. There is an entry there for a morning-long meeting. This is the same date…"

"As that on the microdot document," he said, finishing her sentence.

They stared at each other for a moment, each challenging the other to break. Ruth felt like her whole body was trembling from the inside out, that she would collapse in a puddle standing up to him like this. It hurt her to have to be like this with him, but there wasn't any other way.

"Yes," he said finally.

"Yes what?" she asked.

"Yes, the committee existed. And I was a member."

The air was sucked out of the room at his words. Everyone, even the ghosts, knew what it meant. Ruth could feel Peter's mixture of elation and horror behind her, but he thankfully did not speak.

Adam asked, "And you planned Diana's death?"

"Yes," Harry answered without hesitation.

"Why?" Ruth whispered.

"The woman was unstable. There were fears she was being manipulated by undesirable influences. She was causing untold damage to the central pillar of the British State, the Royal Family itself. It was felt that if an accident could be arranged, there would be outpourings of grief which would, paradoxically, unite the nation. We were right in that."

Ruth could not believe what she was hearing. Tears flooded her eyes as her worst fears and the most heinous of scandals was admitted right in front of her. "You killed her," she said, the anger welling up inside her to overtake her horror.

Harry's face was stoic and almost bemused. "What are you going to do?" he asked.

Peter piped in just then. "Take him down! The whole lot of them! Tell Angela and make them all pay for what they did to her!"

Ruth looked to Adam and in so doing was able to see that Dad was as paralyzed by the news as she was. "Tell Angela," Ruth said, "er…lift the lockdown. Call in Special Branch to arrest you for conspiracy to murder." The words were like poison on her tongue but it would have to be done. God help her. The best thing in her life, the man she loved. The truth of it was beyond her worst imaginings.

"Better go do it then," Harry answered calmly. "It will defuse this terrible situation."

She looked again to Adam, who had a hint of a smirk on his face. Ruth felt like she had whiplash. "Unless, after all, it's not true."

"Of course it's not true," Adam scoffed.

"I should bloody well think not!" Harry said incredulously. "Have you two lost your reason!?"

The weight on Ruth's heart lifted and she could finally breathe. She smiled, even. Behind her, Peter was shouting again. "What!? This is insanity!" Ruth ignored him.

Harry went on, "The committee was there to operate worst case scenario exercises. Imagine the worst to be able to prevent it. We had to look at Diana being murdered. The Government were terrified. She was a loose cannon, out at all hours, all over the world, doing god knows what with men. She was an irresistible target to the loonies who are swarming across this planet every few seconds. We had to look at it."

"What did you fear the most?" Adam asked.

"Attack in a car, being pursued by paparazzi. Probably overtaken by a motorcyclist, a pillion rider could easily shoot out the car tires using a five-seven."

Ruth didn't know what that meant, so Adam explained, "Ultralight weapon, fires a frangible bullet."

Harry nodded. "Blow out the tires, the car crashes—preferably in a closed space."

"Dear God," Ruth breathed.

"You predicted her death," Adam said, amazed.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "But it was an accident. We were terrified. We tried to cover all traces of the scenario document. But bureaucracy always leaves a slime trial."

Adam tried to get Harry to allow him to sell Zaf's version to Angela, to give her what she wanted. But Harry had something else in mind. He'd reviewed Angela's files and Ruth's. He knew Ruth had to be the one to get Angela to surrender. He knew the key was Peter Haigh. Peter Haigh, who was standing right behind Ruth right that very second.

Ruth tried to refuse, never wanting to be anywhere near her past with Peter ever again. But she knew Harry was right. It had to be her. She could do it. She would have to do it.

"I need a minute. Just…please," she said, finally agreeing to go in to talk to Angela. But first, she had to talk to the ghosts.

She went into the corridor, knowing Adam and Harry were still nearby. She had to be subtle and quiet.

"Peter, what did you tell her about us? I've got to know," Ruth whispered.

"Nothing. You're my sister. We were close and then we fell out. That's all she knows. She always distrusted you, thinking I was being rebuffed for my familial advances, being nice to you and you throwing it in my face. She thought you were a bitch who never treated me right. She wanted me to give up trying with you," Peter said.

Ruth knew he was telling the truth. She knew he'd never tell Angela their history. She nodded. "Right. Okay. I need the both of you to stay outside. You can listen in, I know you will, but you cannot distract me. I can't have either of you in there while I'm talking to her and I can't be distracted by any talking or whatever else, alright? Whatever reactions you have, keep them to yourselves till I get out of there."

"What's this all about, Ruthie?" Dad asked, his face full of worry.

She swallowed hard, staring at her shoes. She couldn't tell him. She had told him to bugger off for a while, that week in Blackpool. He'd never liked Peter, she knew, but she thought it was just because he was the son of the man who'd married his wife. Any man might be jealous. Ruth had assumed that was why Dad always warned her away from Peter. But she had been young and na?ve and she assumed that seeing the best in people was seeing the truth.

"Are you going to tell him, Ruth?" Peter asked when Ruth didn't respond.

Her eyes snapped up to look at him. "Shut up. I don't want to hear another word from you. Not now, not ever. You can stay and you can see what happens with Angela, because despite everything, she loved you and I know you loved her. But after that, you leave, you hear me?"

Peter's expression turned grave. He nodded.

Ruth gathered every bit of her courage she could muster. "Right." It was time.

She walked into the room where Angela was keeping Jo.

"Ruth. What do you want?" Angela asked.

"Let her go, and I'll tell you," she replied.

Angela pursed her lips. "No, no."

Ruth had to get her to agree. "There was a committee. Harry sat on it. He worked out how to kill Diana."

"Oh my god," Angela breathed.

"Let her go, and I'll tell you more," Ruth reasoned.

Angela tossed Jo the keys. The young woman got up and paused beside Ruth, who told her to go. She had to be alone with Angela for this. Knowing that Dad and Peter were right outside and listening in was already more than she could handle.

Ruth walked further into the room. "The plan to kill Diana was to fire a disintegrating bullet from the pillion of a passing motorbike. The front tire bursts, the car crashes.

As Ruth spoke, Angela began to cry. With relief and with vindication. "Peter was right."

"No, he wasn't," Ruth informed her. "Harry's committee was examining worst case scenarios. The horrible thing is they nearly predicted the crash. But they didn't cause it. There was no motorbike assassin, no plot. Just fate." And all of that was the whole truth. That was the easy part.

"Are you trying to get us all killed?" Angela asked.

"No, Angela." Ruth approached her cautiously and knelt down, as close to the seated woman as she dared. "I've got to tell you something." Her heart thundered in her chest and her whole body protested her saying these words, but she had to press through. "About something that happened when he was twenty and I was eighteen."

"You slept with him." Angela still had tears streaming down her face, but her expression had changed entirely. She was not asking a question, merely seeking confirmation of the ugly truth she had always feared. "Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"You see, there were rows. His father wasn't getting on with my mother, and we thought they were going to break up, and…Peter and I, we got close to each other."

Angela scrubbed her face with her free hand. "No," she begged, needing so desperately for the truth to stop.

But Ruth had to keep going. "We…we fell in love. We ran off together. For a mad week. To Blackpool," she told Angela. "Blackpool. It was winter. The town was all shut up. It was oddly beautiful. We stayed in about the only B&B that was still open."

It was almost funny to think of now, how foolish she had been. To go off with Peter, of all people. To Blackpool, of all places, in the dead of winter. Foolish. Stupid, even. Shameful, probably. Regretful, certainly.

Ruth pressed on. "You see, it shouldn't have been my mother and his father who met. It should have been me and Peter. When we went back there were terrible scenes. Strangely, it patched things up between our parents. And I…I just left."

"That's why you never got on with me," Angela realized. "You were still in love with him."

"Yes." The bile rose in her throat at that word. "He always drank, Angela," Ruth said. That part was important, after all. "Most of the time in Blackpool, I was drunk with him."

"He was a dreamer," Angela said, barely audible, holding on desperately to the last piece of Peter she thought she could claim.

Ruth looked her dead in the eyes and said, "And in love with me. Always. Never with you."

Angela broke before her very eyes. She raised her hand with the detonator and ignored Ruth's attempt to tell her to stop. She pressed the button, causing Ruth to jump at the click, and nothing happened. Angela dropped the false detonator and covered her face with her hands and just cried. Ruth got up and left the room.

Adam and Zaf went in after her to take Angela. Ruth didn't want any part of it. She went the opposite direction down the corridor. Dad was there. Peter wasn't.

"He left. He heard what you said. And he left. He won't be coming back," Dad told her.

Ruth just nodded.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Okay, Ruthie. I'll be here," he said softly.

Harry brushed past where the ghost of her father stood and came to Ruth. "Well done."

"Oh you think so?" she snapped.

"You broke her."

"Maybe I broke me, too."

"That's adrenaline withdrawal," Harry explained, brushing off her comment.

"Oh is that what it is? Good. Good, thank you," she replied sarcastically.

"Ruth…"

"I lied," she snapped. "I told her I'd slept with my stepbrother. I sold myself, my feelings, to manipulate her." She turned to walk away from him, unable to have any sort of rational conversation right now.

But Harry would not let her go. He grabbed her arm and shoved her into the wall. "You think I'm a limited man?" he hissed. "You think I don't understand the emotional side? Self-control, self-denial, these are the things which keep us together in this job. You told a huge lie about your personal life."

"And I can't bear that I did."

"But aren't you proud you had the nerve?" Harry insisted.

"It was horrible," Ruth protested weakly. She realized that he was right.

"Aren't you proud you told the lie? Aren't you proud you talked Angela out of that room?"

She hated every bit of what she'd done, but she'd done it anyway. And she'd gotten the result. She had saved the day because of what she had been able to force herself to do. "I…oh, God forgive me."

A little smile crossed Harry's lips. A smile she recognized. It was the look he got on his face when he was about to say or do something wonderfully filthy. But instead of kissing her, he said, "You're a born spook, Ruth."

Those words took her aback, and she wasn't quite sure how she felt about them. "I stole the MD reader," she blurted.
Harry turned back after having left her and got close to her ear to whisper, "Then return it." He walked away, leaving her alone in the corridor.

Ruth got ahold of herself and told her father that she would tell him the truth later, but confirmed that she had in fact lied to Angela. She couldn't really face the truth just now. Besides, there was more work to do. They'd been here all night and now they had to deal with Angela.

The decision was made to treat her as a victim in the field. They would let her go. Jo wasn't happy about it, and neither was Ruth, but she would rather have this all be put behind her.

The lockdown was lifted off the Grid and their systems were restored. Everyone's mobiles were repaired and returned to them. All the documents Ruth had collected were returned. But one was missing. Security for Buckingham Palace.

It was a bluff. She was after revenge. She wanted them to give her the security information she needed to get her revenge on the Royal Family, not on the Grid. Harry ordered the Royal Family to Pegasus immediately.

Only Angela wasn't at Buckingham Palace. It was another double bluff. She was going to blow up Pegasus. Peter would have known about it. He would have told Angela. God, if he wasn't already dead, Ruth would have killed him.

Adam saved the day, cutting all the wires to the bomb when Malcolm froze up. And now they were on the hunt for Angela again. Harry went to get Adam from Pegasus. Ruth was on the Grid with everyone else to congratulate Malcolm, though he told Ruth the truth of the matter.

Ruth had to tell the truth, too. But she'd have to wait till Harry got back.


Harry was ready to kill Angela himself. After the horrible nightmare that she'd put them all through, terrifying poor Jo and forcing Ruth into a position that Harry knew she hated, Harry wanted to be the one to pull the trigger to make that woman pay for all she'd done. The lockdown, the bluff of Buckingham Palace, the bomb in the electricals at Pegasus, all of it.

He was calling the Home Secretary to get authorization when he and Adam arrived back at Thames House. He was on the phone when they got out of the car and shots rang out.

Adam threw Harry to the ground and then stupidly got up again. When he did, he fell back down, blood streaming from his belly and mouth. Harry looked up in horror as he saw Angela with an automatic rifle. But she did not shoot him. She packed up her things and did a swan dive off the roof of the building, landing dead on top of a car.

The next few hours were a whirlwind. He rode to the hospital in the back of the ambulance with Adam. He first put a call in to Fiona's parents, knowing that someone would have to look after Wes. He did not tell them anything except that Adam would be detained, and could they keep the boy for a few days? They agreed, thankfully. After that, Harry hung up and called the Grid.

"Ruth?"

"Yes, Harry, where are you?" she asked, answering the phone.

"In the back of an ambulance. Adam's been shot. By Angela."

"What!?"

"She's dead now, too."

"How?"

"Jumped off the roof after shooting."

"Oh my god," she breathed.

"I need you to talk to Juliet and have her liaise with the Home Secretary until I know what's happening with Adam," he instructed.

"Yes, of course."

Harry could tell she was taking notes while talking to him. "And Ruth?"

"Yes?"

"When I know something about Adam, I'll be going home. There's nothing more we can do about it now. We need time to regroup, and we need to know his prognosis first."

"I'll make sure Juliet and the HS know."

"Thank you, but what I meant was…I'd like it if you could be there with me. I think we need to talk as well."

"Y-yes, alright."

"I just need you with me tonight, Ruth. After all of this, I just…I need you."

He could hear her swallow hard through the phone. "Okay," she said quietly.

"Thank you, Ruth. I'll call if there's any update. And I'll see you later."

With that, he hung up. They arrived at A&E a moment later, and Harry was taken to the waiting room while Adam was taken immediately into surgery. He filled out forms on Adam's behalf before he called Juliet directly to speak with her about the developments. She was mercifully efficient when there was need to be, and he appreciated that about her.

A doctor came a while later to give Harry an update about Adam. He was in stable but critical condition and out of surgery, but they did not expect him to wake up any time soon. That was all Harry needed.

He called Ruth from the car. "Adam is in stable but critical condition. He's alive and knowing him, he'll make a full recovery. He's got great care, and we'll check in tomorrow."

"That's very good news."

"I agree," he said. "Now, I've got my driver taking me home. I'll be there in about ten minutes."

"It'll take me closer to twenty."

"Fine. See you then," he replied, hanging up the phone.

It was all he wanted, to have Ruth in his arms. He knew there were things to discuss, but he needed to just hold her before anything else.

When Ruth did arrive, it was just after Harry had removed his jacket and tie. He opened the front door for her, she took off her scarf and coat, and as soon as he'd closed and locked the door behind her, she fell into his arms.

Harry felt a deep calm settle over him as he held her and breathed in the beautiful scent of her.

"God, what a day," she whined.

He chuckled lightly and kissed her hair. "It's over for now, Ruth," he soothed.

She pulled back slightly to look up at him. "I know it's only two in the afternoon, but could we open some wine?"

"How about scotch instead?" He needed something stronger than wine.

"Fine," she agreed.

He took her into the sitting room where Scarlett was happily waiting on the sofa with a wagging tail. Harry poured their drinks while Ruth greeted the dog.

"I bet she missed you last night," Ruth noted, scratching Scarlett behind the ears.

"Yes, I missed her, too. Thankfully my neighbor knows to come in the back door and feed Scarlett if my lights aren't on when he goes to bed. He's got a key and always leaves a note to let me know he's seen to Scarlett."

"What does he think you do?"

"He knows I work for the Government and I often work irregular hours or have to travel without notice. That's all he needs to know."

"Very helpful. My cats are luckily very easy going. I have food out for them and they eat when they're hungry and they get annoyed if I miss a day, but they don't starve by any means," she said.

Harry handed her a glass and took his place in the center of the sofa. Ruth gave Scarlett a gentle push out of the way, and she cuddled up close to him. "Cheers," he said, clinking his glass against hers.

They both had a drink, Harry savoring and Ruth slightly grimacing. She wasn't as much of a drinker as he was. Which reminded him…

"Drunk all week in Blackpool in winter, were you?" he asked.

Ruth sighed. Her head turned ever so slightly, looking off to the middle distance somewhere. He would have to ask her about that one of these days. But for now, he wanted to know about Peter Haigh.

"Were you lying to Angela?"

She hesitated but answered, "Partly. I told her the truth that Peter might have wished for. But it wasn't my truth, and he knew it. He and I were never in love. I think he might have thought he was in love with me. I thought I was in love with him, but I very quickly realized how wrong that was. He wanted to be close to me. He wanted to protect me. But it was…it wasn't good. He had me convinced that it should have been he and I, not our parents. That we were in love and we should be together, and we should escape their rowing and go off together. He said Blackpool was romantic. And I suppose if it was any other circumstance, it might have been. We'd never slept together before then. i'd never slept with anyone, at that point. And Peter and I, we'd never even kissed. But when we got to our room, I was nervous. Terrified, actually. And so Peter got a few bottles of gin and we cracked one open. He kissed me, once I was laughing and drunk and relaxed. And that was immediately when I knew."

"Knew what?"

"Knew that it was all wrong. I didn't love him. Kissing Peter felt like kissing my brother. It wasn't romantic, it was uncomfortable, and I didn't want anything to do with it. I told him I was tired and wanted to go to sleep. I got into bed with all my clothes on, hoping he'd think I was being drunk and silly and not terrified of taking off my clothes near him," she said.

If Ruth had said she spent a night or even just a weekend with Peter, Harry would have assumed that was the last of it. But it was a week. Wasn't it? "And did you go home the next day?" he asked hopefully.

Ruth took another sip of her drink. "I should have. But I didn't. Peter kept drinking. I kept up with him, or tried to let him think I had. I felt guilty, like I'd led him on. I didn't know what to say, how to tell him no. He had…he had convinced me that we were supposed to be together. I felt like I was wrong for thinking that we weren't. God, I was eighteen. I didn't know anything. And I've never been a very strong-willed person. And I loved Peter. Even then, I still thought I did. And so for him, I…I tried."

Harry felt a chill up his spine. "You tried what?"

She looked off into the middle distance again, hesitating. Tears were forming in her eyes and her chin was wobbling.

"Please, Ruth," he begged. He needed to know. He couldn't be left wondering, hoping that his imaginings were worse than the truth.

"I let him kiss me. I let him undress me. But when he started…touching me…I couldn't go on. I hid in the bathroom wrapped in a towel until I knew he'd fallen asleep or had passed out or something. Then I put all my clothes back on and slept on the floor. I was afraid to be beside him in that bed."

"Was that all?"

She nodded. "We left the day after that. I had managed a whole week, letting him think that we just had to go slowly for me and not that I was hating every second of it. He…he made me feel so bad about it. And that's when I realized he didn't actually love me. A man who loved me wouldn't have done that."

"No," Harry agreed, holding her tighter in his arms. "No, he wouldn't."

"After that, I still never felt safe around Peter. I let Angela think it was because I was in love with him, but it wasn't. And I don't know if Peter ever realized he wasn't actually in love with me. Maybe he didn't. Maybe he thought that the way he wanted to control me was love. And I robbed him of the opportunity and so he never got over it."

"Maybe." That was probably exactly it. Ruth was the conquest that Peter had never succeeded in. She was the one that got away, and he had tried for the rest of his life to take her power away. And he never had. Oh Harry did not doubt that Ruth was frightened of him. But just as she had today in confronting Harry about the plot to murder Diana and then in lying to Angela, Ruth Evershed had an immense capacity to do what needed to be done in spite of her fear. And for that, she was quite the bravest, strongest person that Harry had ever known. And he loved her for it.

Ruth swallowed down the rest of her scotch and pulled away, putting her glass down on the coffee table. "I'll be right back, I've got to use your loo," she said.

Harry obviously didn't stop her. He did, however, get up to refill their glasses. They could move on from this now. He wouldn't press if Ruth did not want to talk about Peter or Angela anymore. They were both gone now.

He put their drinks on the coffee table and went to the kitchen to find some cheese and crackers or something for them. It was too early for dinner, but neither of them had gotten a proper meal in quite a while.

As he passed the closed bathroom door, though, he heard Ruth's voice. He paused, curious.

"That's the truth, I swear it. And it's all over now. We can all be done. You can go. Thank you."

The toilet flushed, and Harry scurried off to the kitchen to make himself busy.

Ruth found him a moment later. "Oh good, I was going to ask you if we could eat something," she said.

"So you're staying, then?" he asked.

She frowned in confusion. "Of course I am. Unless you'd rather I go?"

"No, of course not. I thought I heard you when I walked by, saying you could go," he said awkwardly. He hadn't wanted to admit to eavesdropping, but he also did not want to worry about her leaving.

"Oh that," she said, looking at her feet and blushing slightly. "No, just talking to the mirror. Nothing to worry about."

Harry was not quite sure he believed her, but when Ruth crossed over to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and whispered that she would not leave him before kissing him deeply, Harry found that all his worries and curiosities were gone. All there was now was Ruth in his arms where she was meant to be.