Author's notes: It's been a long time but I thought of this after I had a 'Spooks' weekend and watched Seasons 5, 6 and 7 in one hit. Now, I am dreadful at thinking up Spooks-esque espionage plots etc. so there won't be a great deal of time dedicated to such plots. Feel free to fill in the blanks as you see fit. :D

This is quite long but it didn't work as a chapter story. Please forgive me.

Summary: He held no doubts they would find him.

Warnings: SPOILERS for Season 7.

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Spooks'; it is the property of Kudos and the BBC

We, till shadowed days are done,
We must weep and sing
Duty's conscious wrong,
The Devil in the clock,
The goodness carefully worn
For atonement or for luck

W.H Auden

"I said 'get down'!"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as three people stormed into the room, all dressed in black and all wearing ski masks. The leader, a woman, shouted over the din and narrowly avoided a bullet shot at her from a Russian who had hidden beneath a desk. She spun neatly on her toes and retaliated with a bullet of her own, which passed cleanly through the man's forehead. He fell forward onto the ground but her attention was already diverted as the man at her right shouted at her in Russian. She nodded quickly and rushed toward Harry, yanking him roughly to his feet.

He let himself be dragged through the corridors, keeping close to the woman as more bullets were fired. One hit him in the shoulder but he gritted his teeth and made no noise as she pulled him roughly into an office. Without a word she let him go and lifted up an office chair and hurled it through the window. As the glass shattered she leant over him, sheltering him from most of the debris. He didn't get a chance to thank her as she pulled on his wrist and dragged him to the edge of the window. There was a sharp drop though he could see a jutting balcony which she gestured at. Harry opened his mouth to protest but she jabbed him in the back and he turned and allowed himself to drop. He landed with a thud and gave her an envious look as she landed cat-like beside him, with barely a sound.

She pointed at the railing and Harry once again let himself fall. He landed heavily on one foot and felt his ankle sprain beneath him. Again, he made no noise of pain and merely let this woman push him in front of her. She scanned the surroundings, her gun in front of her, and pointed at the fence with her free hand. He could see that it had been cut and both hurried towards it. She pulled the wire away and pushed him through the fence before following.

A car screeched before them and the door flew open to reveal the three other black-suited figures. He threw himself inside and the woman followed, pulling the door close. Gunshots were fired towards the car but the driver slammed his foot on the accelerator and they drove away, the shots dimming into the background. To his left the woman removed her balaclava and shook her blonde hair free. He gave her a large smile which she returned.

"You have no idea how good it is to see you, Ros."

Two days ago.

She walked through the hallways quickly, going as fast as she could without running. She passed offices, the occupants of which stared at her dust-covered figure, mouths agape. Ros paid them no heed, instead increasing her pace until she was moving at a semi-jog, her long legs covering the ground rapidly. Ros didn't spare the personal assistant a second glance and opened the door to the Home Secretary's office without knocking. He was speaking on the phone but placed down the receiver and gestured for her to sit down.

"Harry's been taken," Ros said without preamble, "by Victor Sarkisiian. I need permission to mount an operation to bring him back."

The Home Secretary blinked slowly, not quite comprehending what he was hearing.

"Harry's been...?"

"Taken," Ros finished curtly. "Less than an hour ago."

"Yes, of course," said the Home Secretary. "By all means..."

Ros was already out the door.

xXXXx

"That was quick," said Lucas as Ros folded herself back into the car.

"Drive," was all Ros said.

The driver obeyed immediately and soon they were winding through the London streets, the car narrowly missing several pedestrians as the driver pushed his foot down hard on the accelerator at Ros' command. She leant her forehead against the cool glass and closed her eyes at the temporary relief it offered to her hot skin. She knew that Jo was already mocking up an article explaining the explosion, calling it 'maintenance work' that was being conducted in the disused tunnels.

According to the report there had been no casualties.

Lucas was sitting next to her and she sensed rather than saw him shiver. She twisted in the seat and angled her body towards him; the back of her head now resting against the glass. He was holding his side and she could see blood seeping through his jacket. Though he was clenching his jaw, Ros knew that he wouldn't want any attention drawn towards the wound and so said nothing as the driver pulled up in front of Thames House. They both got out and headed for the front entrance. Ros's piercing glare that no one asked questions about their dusty appearance and they continued through the labyrinth of corridors until they reached the Grid. Malcolm and Jo looked up as they entered and the relief on their faces was evident from across the room. Ros found herself returning their smiles but sobered at the sight of Dalby who stood in Harry's office.

"Excuse me," she said to Jo, Lucas and Malcolm.

She walked to Harry's office and closed the door behind her with a 'bang' that made Dalby jump. Ros felt no small amount of vindictive pleasure at the man's discomfort as she folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with a glacial eye.

"Can I help you?" she asked coolly.

"I hear Harry has gone missing," Dalby said, some of his bravado returning.

"He has," Ros affirmed.

"Have you mounted an operation...?"

"Of course, I have," Ros snapped. "An operation I need to supervise."

The two glared at each other from opposite sides of the room. Dalby broke first and he nodded and walked past Ros without another word. She watched him leave the Grid, the pods closing behind him with their familiar 'whoosh'. Satisfied he had gone, she went back to where Malcolm and Jo stood, both looking at the computer screen.

"Where's Lucas?" Ros asked.

"He went into the bathroom," Jo answered.

Ros followed the direction where Jo pointed, noting the blood drops on the floor, and let out a long breath through her nose. She walked past Jo and Malcolm, pausing only to grab a first aid kit, and continued to the bathroom. Lucas stood in front of the mirror, staring unseeing at his reflection. He glanced up as she entered and exhaled deeply.

"I'm fine, really," he said as she walked towards him.

Ros nodded as she drew to a halt beside him and leant her hip against the bench. "So, I see." She looked at him intently, noting the blood smudges on his cheeks, and blood-soaked clothes. Lucas touched his hand protectively to the bullet wound before speaking again.

"Ros..."

She shook her head as she opened the medical kit and took out a pair of scissors and placed them on the bench. She gestured for him to turn around and gently pushed his jacket over his shoulders, leaving only his shirt covering his torso. She picked up the scissors and cut through the thick material. Her eyebrows rose slightly when she saw the large tattoo which adorned his chest but she made no comment as she peeled away his shirt. She placed the scissors back on the bench and turned on the tap, dampening one of the many cotton swabs from the kit. Slowly, she reached out and dabbed away the blood, taking care to remove any trace from Lucas' pale skin. Both were silent as she continued, a stack of blood-soaked swabs soon piling next to the sink. Lucas stood still, letting her continue. His ears still rang with the explosion and he could see Connie in his mind's eye, counting down the seconds.

Ros pushed herself from the bench as she stretched to reach across him and he turned so it was easier, earning himself a small smile. The sound of running water was all that could be heard as Ros methodically cleaned the wound. Lucas didn't move as she pulled out gauze from the kit and applied it gently, followed by the bandage which she wrapped around his torso. He flinched slightly when she reached again for the swabs and gently cleaned his face where he must have touched with his bloody hands.

Finally she took a step back and graced him with another smile.

"Stay here and I'll bring you a shirt," she said softly.

Lucas nodded mutely as she turned and left the bathroom. He turned back to the mirror and peered at his reflection closely, noting the lines around his eyes, the physical indication he was aging. Russia had added to those lines, though he liked to think they were lessening the more time he was in England. He looked down his body, leaner than it was eight years ago. Ros's bandaging covered the lower half of his torso, a brilliant white even against his pale skin. She'd done a good job, the bandage was firm without being tight and he knew that she'd obviously paid attention in the compulsory first-aid courses the service offered. It wasn't something that surprised him; Ros was the sort of person who would take the type of information on board, so she could use it on herself most likely.

He straightened to his full height as he heard the door being opened again and Ros entered, bearing a government issue tracksuit in her hands. She unzipped the tracksuit top and held it out so he could slip his arms inside with the least amount of movement.

"You okay?" she asked, zipping up the top.

He opened his mouth to say 'yes' but found that the words wouldn't come out.

"Thought not," Ros said softly.

He gave her a smile that could only be labelled bitter-sweet.

"Can you speak to the team and get them together?" Ros asked, taking a step back. "While I clean up?"

Lucas nodded, "Of course."

She smiled at his briefly before turning and leaving the bathroom once more. After a few moments, Lucas did the same.

xXXXx

The tiles were cold underfoot as Ros took off her shoes and she shivered as she stripped off the rest of her clothing and stepped underneath the jetting water. She closed her eyes and turned her face upward letting the droplets pound against her face. Harry was missing. Harry was missing. She felt her shoulders drop as the weight of culpability hit her with full force but forced herself to straighten and reached for the bar of soap and scrubbed her skin, washing away the dirt and grime from the tunnels. Finally she stepped out from the shower and dried herself with a towel. She quickly threw on a black tracksuit, government issue, and pushed her feet into a pair of black trainers. Her hair was wet down her back and she pulled back from her face. Ros looked in the mirror; she was in a far less pristine state than usual but she found that she didn't care.

Sighing, she pushed her shoulders back, and hurried from the bathroom and into the Grid. Jo and Lucas were leaning against desks, watching Malcolm as he typed on his keyboard, no doubt hacking through various systems in the search for Harry.

"Have we got anything?" she asked, drawing to a close behind Malcolm.

He shook his head. "Nothing at all." It's as if they've disappeared into thin air. I've traced Sarkisiian's mobile as well as a number of other Russian agents but still nothing."

"Just give me something, Malcolm," Ros said, running her fingers through her hair. "Have they gone out of the country?"

It was Jo who answered.

"A helicopter took off roughly an hour-and-half ago. There was a man fitting Sarkisiian's description on board as well as a large container and two other men."

"Malcolm," Ros said, leaning over his shoulder. "Can you hack into the helicopters GPS system and find out where it's headed?"

"I can try..."

"Good."

She turned to face Lucas and Jo who stood back, waiting for her command. Though Ros was new in the role of Section Chief, both knew that her judgement was rarely surpassed and when Harry, their Harry's, life was at stake neither was going to challenge her authority.

"Lucas, I want you on the phone to any Russian contacts you have. Jo, I want you to liaise with MI-6; their contacts will be invaluable."

"Done," they said simultaneously.

Lucas sat down at his desk and reached his phone though glanced up when he heard footsteps across the Grid. Ros had grabbed her coat and was nearly through the pods when he called out.

"Where are you going?"

She glanced over her shoulder and gave him an unreadable smile.

"I'm calling in a favour."

With those words, she glided through the pods. Turning back to his desk, Lucas looked across at Jo who had the receiver jammed between her shoulder and her ear as she scribbled on a piece of paper. Shaken into action, Lucas reached for his own phone.

They had to find something.

xXXXx

He'd been staring at the bright light for what seemed like millennia. There was no sound, no muffled whispers, just the light which pulsated every now and then. Harry clenched his eyes shut and bowed his head toward the floor. The helicopter ride had been short, maybe an hour, and he was reasonably certain he had not left Britain.

He clenched and unclenched his fists.

Ros would be leading the search for him; and he was certain that she would find him. He felt a surge of pride for his Section Chief; if she had been outstanding eight months ago then she was brilliant now. Ros's time in Russia had served her well, not only had it improved her linguistic skills, she had learned how the Russians operated and now her ruthlessness rivalled, if not surpassed theirs. She was the antithesis of Connie in many ways; though the parallels between them were frightening.

He remembered an exchange between Ros and Connie which illustrated his belief perfectly.

"Alternatively I could just break your fingers one-by-one."

"You don't have the balls."

"You don't think so?"

Connie had shown herself to be the worst type of traitor, one who would kill her own team members. Ros – despite her association with Yalta the previous year – would never murder one of her own in cold blood. She had, in actual fact, shown herself to be the most loyal. She underwent hours of water torture in an effort to find Zaf, only to discover he was already dead and she'd gone back for Harry, knowing that she was likely to die.

"Mr. Pearce."

Harry opened his eyes as he looked up. Vicktor Sarkisiian stepped into the room and crossed over to him, his stride long and self-assured.

"I would like to know what you do," Sarkisiian said with an insincere smile. "About your operations, about your networks..."

"I won't tell you anything," Harry interrupted, speaking clearly.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Sarkisiian said coldly.

Harry said nothing as Sarkissian gripped his shoulder tightly.

"You will tell me everything."

Harry raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Or are you hoping your team will save you?" Sarkissian continued.

Harry remained silent.

"You will be welcome challenge, Mr Pearce," Sarkissian said with a laugh. "Welcome indeed."

He squeezed Harry's shoulder briefly before he turned and left the room. The light was still bright, almost blinding and Harry closed his eyes again. His mind went immediately back to his team.

They would find him; he knew they would.

xXXXx

Ros looked up at the brick building even as she dialled the number. It was dark now, the moon and the street lamps lighting the street, turning everyone a slight shade of yellow.

"Kristopher?" she said as soon as the phone was picked up. "I'm standing outside your office. We need to talk. Now."

She hung up and leant against the wall, not waiting for him to respond. Mere minutes later Kristopher Malcovich rushed into the street, looking left-and-right until his eyes fell upon her. Immediately, he stepped towards her and grabbed her by the elbow, dragging her into a small cafe. He slammed the door behind him and she turned to find his angry visage looming before her. He was a good half-foot taller, and was an intimidating sight to behold. The two were long-time contacts though she had never been so bold as to speak to him at work.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, letting go of her elbow and folding his arms across his chest. "How did find out where my office was? No, I don't want to know that..."

"I need information," Ros interrupted calmly, rubbing her elbow where she could feel a faint bruise. "Quickly," she added for emphasis.

Kristopher snorted and began to pace in front of her, his fists clenching and unclenching at his side. Ros watched him with interest; Kristopher was, by all accounts, her Russian counterpart, and over the years the two had become relatively close; as close as contacts can get, that is. She gave him exemplary information and he reciprocated. Ros waited for him to calm down slightly before speaking again.

"Harry Pearce has been taken by your boss," she said simply. "I want to know where to and what they're doing to him."

Kristopher stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide. "They took Harry?" he said incredulously. "Why? That makes no sense, unless..."

His sentence faded into nothing and he touched his hand to his temple.

"Unless?" Ros probed. "Come on, Kristopher, I don't have much time..."

"There have been rumours that Sarkisiian has been associating with, shall we say, unsavoury characters," Kristopher began. "Lately, he's been absent from work more often than usual, taking longer than is assumed necessary for operations, disappearing without word, that sort of thing. A week ago I placed a tracker on him..."

"Where did he go?" Ros interrupted sharply.

"You won't believe it," Kristopher said slowly. "But I assure you, I'm not lying."

"Just tell me where," Ros said shortly.

"To a small property near Lakenheath Airbase," Kristopher said quickly.

Ros felt her blood run cold; if the Americans were involved...

"Thank you," she said, pushing past Kristopher and through the cafe doors. She hailed a taxi and all but leapt inside. "Thames House," she breathed, pushing a wad of cash into the driver's hand. "Quick as you can."

xXXXx

"Good grief."

Malcolm's voice was soft but Lucas and Jo were on their feet immediately and peered over the analyst's shoulder. He had been able to hack into the GPS system and there, plain as day was Harry's location.

Right outside Lakenheath Airbase.

"It can't be," Jo breathed. "Surely not."

The pods opened and Ros rushed inside. "Get a map of Lakenheath and the surrounding area," she said quickly, walking past them into Harry's office. "I want to be able to see every blade of grass within a fifteen mile radius of the airbase."

Malcolm nodded and immediately pulled up satellite images of Lakenheath which Lucas doubted were strictly legal. Jo was similarly occupied and Lucas rose to his feet and followed Ros into Harry's office. She was pacing back and forth and he closed the door behind him and leant against it.

"Ros?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at the blonde woman who didn't pause for a moment. "What are...?"

"I'm thinking," she interrupted sharply. "Normally Harry is there when I'm doing so but he's not at the moment."

"Ah."

He fell silent as Ros continued pacing, worrying at her bottom lip.

"It's too easy," she said finally. "We traced the GPS system and it leads us right where we need to go. The Russians are smarter than that."

Lucas nodded slowly; glad she had suggested what he already thought.

"I think that it's a ruse," Ros said, coming to an abrupt halt. "I think they want to lure us there whilst they take Harry to another location. I think they want us to waste time and resources whilst they..."

Her sentence faded into nothing though Lucas could mentally finish her sentence.

"Whilst they torture him."

Ros took a deep breath and pushed past Lucas, nearly knocking him to the floor.

"Jo," she said quickly. "I want you and Lucas to check out this building though my hopes aren't high. Report back as soon as possible."

Jo was already pushing her chair back and she and Lucas left the Grid without protest, leaving Ros and Malcolm alone.

"We'll find him, Ros," Malcolm said reassuringly, reaching out and touching her hand.

Ros paused for a moment before responding.

"We have to, Malcolm."

Yesterday.

It was two o'clock in the morning when Jo and Lucas arrived back on the Grid, both looking distinctly out-of-sorts.

"Nothing," Jo said as she flung herself onto her chair. "Absolutely nothing. The house was bare."

Ros nodded; she had expected as much and was not at all surprised. "So, we're back to square one," she said heavily, the weight of responsibility loading onto her shoulders. "Jo, find out who Sarkisiian usually operates with. Find out their last movements, who they spoke to, where this conversation took place and how often they work with Sarkisiian. Malcolm, hack into the Russian database and find out about their current operations. Find their mobile phone numbers and track them..."

"I've already done that, Ros," Malcolm interrupted.

"Do it again," she said sharply. "Lucas, come with me to Harry's last known location. Maybe they left some sort of clue as to where they were going."

Lucas nodded and waited as Ros grabbed her coat. She had changed since he had seen her last and looked more like her usual self. Jeans he could tell were a designer brand; a simple enough top and a leather jacket he knew must cost at least a week's wages. Funny, he'd never really noticed this until now.

"C'mon," she said, shrugging the overcoat over her shoulders and hurrying toward the pods.

Lucas followed quickly and the two made their way to the car park. Ros clicked the remote lock and a Lexus lit up close by them. Lucas didn't bother asking if he could drive, he knew Ros wouldn't dignify the question with an answer and he slid into the passenger seat. He watched as Ros tapped in the co-ordinates that Malcolm has sent to her palm pilot and she pulled out quickly.

"Ros," he said softly. "We're going to find him."

She gave him a side-long glance. "I know."

xXXXx

"I want information, Mr Pearce," Sarkisiian said, circling him slowly.

"Pertaining to what exactly?" Harry said sarcastically.

A fist collided with his face, knocking him sideways, and he fell from the chair onto his knees. He could feel blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth but his hands were still tied behind his back and he couldn't wipe it away. Sarkisiian helped him to his feet and sat him back on the chair, removing a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Mr Pearce, this could be very simple," he said, dabbing gently at Harry's lip and chin. "Just tell me about Sugarhorse. It has my superiors and I very interested."

This time Harry stayed silent and Sarkisiian breathed a heavy sigh.

"As you wish, Mr Pearce," he said softly, crossing the room and picking up some sort of brace device.

He smiled as another man strapped Harry's arms to the chair and forced him to look upward.

"Anne Boche," Sarkisiian continued, walking towards him. "You might know her as Magritte; she told us how well your officer dealt with water torture. She didn't crack even once."

Harry said nothing as Sarkisiian drew to a halt and fitted the brace around his neck.

"Let's see if you fare just as well."

He stepped back and Harry stared upward as a pipe was fitted above him. A blinding light was switched on and Harry waited for the inevitable drops of water.

Drip, drip, drip...

xXXXx

Ros winced as she punched through the glass and opened the door from the inside. An alarm rang but she smashed it with the end of her torch and it fell silent. She and Lucas walked through the short hall quickly, their guns held in front of them. Both were wearing bullet-proof vests, something Ros wouldn't usually bother with, but a niggling feeling in her stomach had changed her mind. They turned the corner, guns trained before them, and Ros wished they had night-vision goggles on for it was pitch-black and she could barely see two feet ahead.

She heard a faint 'click' and suddenly the fluorescent lights above them came to life, temporarily blinding them. The 'click' coincided with gun fire and she and Lucas leapt apart. Her eyes quickly adjusted and she counted four figures, three men and one woman, around the room, all with their guns pointed towards them. She threw herself onto the ground and fired at their feet; she hit one in the shin and he fell to the ground screaming in pain. Ros shot another bullet and hit the man in the chest; he shuddered briefly before going still and she knew he was dead. Around her, there was shouting and more gunfire and she saw the woman fall to the ground, bleeding heavily from a wound to the chest.

Ros slid forward, using her elbows to drag herself forward, until she was behind a desk. Once there, she rose briefly and fired her gun, taking down one of the remaining two men. She hit one in the chest though she saw the other flinch back, obviously hit by a bullet from Lucas. Her man fired his gun, missing her by an inch. He went to pull the trigger again but Ros was already moving, springing to her feet and leaping over the desk which separated them without the aid of hands, merely twisting in the air and landing neatly on her feet. Ros's eyes flashed as she met those of this nameless Russian and she held her gun in both hands and fired her gun three times.

Mozambique drill; two to the chest and one to the chest.

Lucas had shot dead the other man and was breathing heavily when he looked over at her.

"Get their phones and anything else that might be useful," Ros said, bending down and rifling through the man's pockets and jackets. "If they were willing to fight then there must be some clue here as to where Harry is."

Lucas nodded and both were silent, the only sound that of rustling fabric and steady breathing.

xXXXx

Jo didn't doubt that she could recite the documents before her verbatim. She had read them so many times that her eyes felt heavy and her vision blurred as she skimmed one of the dossiers yet again.

"There's nothing here, Malcolm," she said, covering her mouth as she yawned. "Not a damn thing."

"Mm."

Jo rolled her eyes and rose to her feet, her entire body creaking. She was dog-tired, though imagined that the rest of the team felt exactly the same; Lucas and Ros more so. She had seen how Lucas touched his side occasionally and knew instinctively that he had been wounded, quite badly if Ros felt the need to follow him carrying a medical aid kit. Their new Section Chief wasn't renowned for sentimentality.

Jo stretched her back, and the vertebrae cracked causing Malcolm to wrinkle his nose.

That wasn't strictly true; Ros had been Jo's saving grace the past few nights. It had been she who had told her the truth about Boscov and she who took the time after operations to talk to the younger woman. Ros's soft voice had been what had stopped Jo from breaking down after Adam's death though Jo could tell that it was perhaps Ros who needed more support. Here, Ros had chosen Harry as her emotional crutch. The two shared an intimacy these days, far more than usually found between Spooks though Jo was certain they weren't lovers.

"Coffee, Malcolm?" Jo asked, rolling her shoulders to release more tension.

"Please."

Jo was half-way across the Grid when Ros and Lucas stepped through the pods, both looking distinctly worse for wear. Lucas was clutching his side whilst Ros's hair was ruffled, a far cry from its usual immaculate style.

"Malcolm," Ros said striding to the side of the computer analyst. "Go through these."

She handed him a cluster of mobile phones and palm pilots which Malcolm took without a word. He silently loaded the sim cards of the phones into the necessary programs and all looked over his shoulder as numbers flashed over the screen. One phone done, Malcolm loaded the next and Jo wasn't surprised when several bars appeared on the screen, showing cross-references between the phones.

"Okay," Ros said, turning to Jo. "This might take a while so I want people to sleep. Jo, you're going first. Use Harry's office; I'll give you two hours."

Jo opened her mouth to protest but her unspoken words turned into a yawn and she gratefully staggered into Harry office and onto the sofa.

She was asleep before her head hit in the cushion.

xXXXx

"You're looking optimistic," Lucas said as Ros stripped away the bandages from his chest, throwing them into the sink.

"I am," Ros said with a faint smile. "I think we're onto something. If those Russians were prepared to fight then they must have been carrying something."

"You think Malcolm can find it?"

Ros raised an eyebrow as she dampened more cotton buds and cleaned around the wound. It was more a graze and Lucas was sure it would heal well enough, though it would leave a nasty scar.

"You don't?" Ros said, drying her hands and reaching for gauze.

"No," Lucas answered quickly. "I do. I just hope it won't be too late..."

Ros's eyes flashed and she pushed on the gauze with more force than was strictly necessary, making him wince.

"Harry's tough," she said shortly, placing a safety pin between her teeth and winding bandage around his torso. "We won't be too late."

"You don't think they might kill him?"

"No, I don't," Ros said, eyes glacial.

She pinned the bandages together and turned sharply, stalking out of the bathroom with a second glance in Lucas's direction.

"I hope you're right, Ros," Lucas said to himself as he bundled the old bandaging together. "I hope you're right."

xXXXx

Malcolm was asleep and Ros sat before his desk, her eyes not leaving the screen. She smiled at Jo who placed a cup of steaming coffee before her.

"Thank you," she said gratefully, taking a sip and closing her eyes briefly.

"Do we have anything?" the younger woman said, leaning against the desk and peering over Ros's shoulder.

"Some possible leads," Ros answered. "Though we haven't finished going through everything. Hopefully there will more once that's done which will lead us to Harry."

"Mm."

Ros turned to the side and looked upward. "Have you any thoughts?" she asked.

Jo shrugged one shoulder. "No, it's just... it's weird without Harry; he's always here and now..."

"I know," Ros said when Jo couldn't finish her sentence. "Which is why I am going to find him, even if it kills me."

Jo nodded, knowing that Ros meant every word.

"You'd die for him?" she asked softly, after a few moments.

Ros didn't hesitate.

"Of course, I would."

xXXXx

Drip, drip, drip...

How long he had been here Harry wasn't sure but he was being driven slowly mad as the water continued to fall; so rhythmic, so hard against his forehead. How had Ros withstood this for as long as she had? Had she felt this helpless?

"Mr Pearce," Sarkisiian said from his right. "This could be so easy, if you just told me about Sugarhorse. You know about our equivalent, it's only fair we know more about yours."

Harry said nothing, instead glaring up at the droplets which pounded against his skin.

"This is getting tiresome, Mr Pearce," said Sarkisiian. "Your team won't find you, or perhaps they don't want to."

Harry inwardly laughed.

"Your Miss Myers," Sarkisiian continued. "She has quite a reputation, not to mention an aptitude for betrayal. Don't you think she might choose to leave you here?"

"No, I don't," Harry answered sharply.

"You have faith, Mr Pearce. A faith I wouldn't share."

Harry said nothing, choosing to tune out of this line of enquiry. Beside him Sarkisiian kept talking but Harry didn't listen.

Drip, drip, drip...

Today

"You have no idea how good it is to see you, Ros."

The blonde laughed, a rich sound which bubbled from her throat, making him smile.

"Oh, I think I do," she said, twisting in her seat to look at him.

He reached out and squeezed her hand briefly.

"Thank you, Ros."

She grinned. "My pleasure, Harry."

xXXXx

Malcolm looked up as Ros arrived back on the Grid, Harry at her side. Jo and Lucas were nowhere to be seen, and he supposed they must have been parking the car. He rose to his feet and gave Harry a large smile.

"You're back," he said simply.

Harry nodded as he drew to a halt in front of Malcolm's desk. Besides a graze to his face and cut lip Harry looked relatively okay, something Malcolm was grateful for. Ros was next to Harry and he inclined his head towards her.

"You should know that this one hasn't slept since you've been gone," he said seriously, though a faint grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Sent all of us to bed but didn't take her own advice."

Harry laughed as he looked at Ros. "That doesn't surprise me."

He gave Malcolm another smile and gestured for Ros to follow him into his office. He shut the door and, to Ros's surprise, closed the blinds. He turned and she threw her balaclava to him.

"Your shoulder," she explained at his puzzled look. "For the bleeding."

"Thank you," he said, pushing the black material against the bullet would.

He'd forgotten about it until now, but the pain surged forward tenfold and he knew he had to get medical treatment soon.

"Before you go, Ros," he said, sitting down, ignoring his thoughts for the time being. "I want a debrief about what happened with Connie in the tunnels."

The blonde woman looked surprised but nodded and pulled up a chair. She rested her elbows against the desk, and leant heavily against them, the tiredness that had been abated by adrenalin finally flooding through her body.

"Connie disarmed the nuclear portion of the bomb," she said slowly. "But there was a catch; if the nuclear part was disabled then the bomb itself would explode, taking whoever disarmed with it."

"Ah."

"Yes, it was quite a unique brand of suicide," said Ros dryly. "I'll give that to her."

Harry raised his eyebrows; wondering if Ros noticed the irony in her statement. It was a suicidal mission to go back for him eight months ago, but she hasn't hesitated. He rose and Ros followed suit. He walked to the door and as Ros reached for the handle he gripped her wrist and pulled her towards him into a firm embrace.

"Thank you, Rosalind," he said into her hair.

He stepped back and she smiled. Harry wasn't one for emotional displays and she knew that this was a rarity that many people didn't see. A large of part of her was immensely proud to be one of these few.

"You're welcome, Harry."

Author's notes: I hope you enjoyed! Please review; it's always great to hear what people think.

Odainath