This carries straight on from the previous chapter, and finally we're at the end. I just hope you all feel I've done the story justice!

As she laid the tray on the table she reached for her son.

Harry shook his head. 'He's fine,' he said quietly. 'Out for the count. Drink your tea.'

She'd been crying. He wasn't arrogant enough to assume he was the cause; he remembered Jane in the weeks after Catherine's birth; hormonal, exhausted and overwhelmed, the most trivial thing had sent her into floods of tears. Unsure how she'd react if he expressed concern, he mentally scrolled through possible safe topics of conversation. 'So, what news of the Grid?'

'Oh.' She grimaced. 'It's not great. John doesn't want me to go back, and to be honest, I'm beginning to think he's right. Apart from anything else, Section D is hardly the ideal place for a woman with a baby, is it?'

'It's not ideal for anyone with children, really.'

'Hm, no. Anyway, Alec's gone, Beth's gone...'

'Beth's gone?'

'Mm. Decommissioned. She screwed up on an op, and there are no second chances with our new section chief. Not for Beth, anyway; Erin made it pretty clear from the start that she neither liked nor rated her, and frankly I think she was just waiting for her to slip up.'

Harry pursed his lips. 'What's Erin like? Apart from unforgiving.'

Ruth sipped her tea as she considered. 'Ambitious. Overly so. Intelligent, but more streetwise than...bookish. Not someone you'd want to cross. And then there's Calum.'

'Blimey, Hal has been a new broom.'

'He's, well, a techie, mainly, but he's been getting involved in field ops too. Thinks he's the bee's knees and unfortunately he does seem to be. He's the only person I've ever seen get Tariq rattled.'

Harry smiled. 'Ah well, a bit of competition will do the lad good. What happened to Alec, by the way? He was rather coy on the subject when I asked him.'

'Oh, Hal has a photo of his wife and kids on his desk, and Alec, um, recognised his wife.'

Harry groaned. 'Oh, dear god. Does Hal know?'

'Alec didn't exactly hang around to find out, but Hal hasn't asked us to hunt him down and post his head on the city gates so I'm guessing not.'

'Poor bugger.'

They lapsed into silence, Ruth drinking her tea, Harry with so much to say he didn't know where to start. He contented himself with watching Jamie; watching his eyelids flicker and his tiny hands furl and unfurl as he dreamed unknowable dreams.

'How's France?' she ventured, at length.

Harry made a face.

She laughed. 'Yeah, the wine, the sunshine, the idyllic scenery; it must be hellish.'

'It's France, Ruth. It's full of...French people.'

'Yeah, and they let you stay? Incredible.'

He chuckled. 'I do have my uses. Whenever we lose at rugby or football or there's some government scandal, the locals come beating a path to my door.'

Cupping her hands round her mug she sat back in her seat and eyed him speculatively. 'You do seem...happier though.'

He exhaled. 'Well, life is better than it's been for a long time.'

'I'm glad.'

'Are you?'

'Glad? Of course...'

'No, no; are you happy?'

She looked at Jamie, who lay, fists curled under his chin, head lolling into Harry's chest.

'Yes. Very.' She smiled.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

'Oh heck,' Ruth's eyes had alighted on the clock on the far wall. 'Harry, I've got to go. Bathtime and bedtime and whatnot. We're trying to get into a routine.'

Nonplussed, he watched as she fiddled with a band of fabric around her chest and then, taking Jamie from him, eased him into the wrap. The baby mewled in protest, headbutting her chest, before sinking back down into sleep.

Ruth grimaced. 'It's unfortunate he's so sound. He'll probably wake up on the bus needing his nappy changing.'

'The bus? For god's sake, Ruth, let me get you a taxi...'

She regarded him levelly. 'I like the bus.'

'Yes, I know, but with a newborn...and a taxi's much quicker. No hanging around at bus stops with all the traffic fumes and germs and...'

'Weirdos?' Her smile, like his, was wistful. 'Harry, we're fine.' One hand clasped across the baby's back, she bent to retrieve her shopping bags.

'Let me take them, at least. Please.'

'I'm fine,' she repeated, her tone more brusque than she'd intended. He flinched, but said nothing.

They wound their way across the cafe, and Ruth pressed the button for the lift. As they waited, Harry, dismayed at the imminent end of their afternoon, blurted out, 'I-I'm here til Wednesday. D'you think we could...'

'Harry...you've got a granddaughter to see. A son you're trying to rebuild a relationship with. I think you've got enough on your plate.'

'A couple of hours won't hurt. Lunch... Graham's working during the day, anyway.'

The display announced the lift's arrival, and as the doors slid open they both stepped inside.

Lift going down.

Ruth waited til the doors closed and they began their descent.

'John's a good man, Harry. And I love him and I don't want to hurt him.'

'For god's sake, Ruth, I'm offering a ploughman's and a pot of tea, not an afternoon of rampant sex in the nearest Travelodge.'

'Don't.'

She was aware of his breathing; fast and shallow. She risked a glance up at him. His lips were drawn into a thin line, his eyes fixed resolutely on the floor display above the doors. The lift juddered to a halt on the ground floor, and she strode towards the front door, Harry following a few steps behind her. Outside, the wind was blustery, icy; an unwelcome reminder of the winter not long past. Rummaging in her coat pocket, she retrieved a stripy woollen hat which she manoeuvred onto Jamie's head.

Harry shouldered the door open and emerged onto the pavement.

She took a deep breath. 'We've both moved on, Harry. Whatever we had, whatever we felt for each other, we just weren't meant to be.'

'Ruth...' His voice was weary. She looked up. The misery in his eyes made her catch her breath, and then a jolt of anger coursed through her.

'Harry, you're not being fair.'

'What's fairness got to do with anything?' Distractedly he rubbed at his forehead. 'I thought I was doing well with the severing all contact bit, but it turns out I wasn't; I was just getting better at coping with missing you.'

'Oh, god. Harry, look at me.'

Dropping her bags at their feet, Ruth's hands cupped his face, and reluctantly he dragged his eyes up to meet hers.

'Please. Forget me, Harry. Go back to France, go back to Sally, and forget me. Sometime soon you'll wake up and realise you haven't thought about me for a few days, and before you know it I'll just be the dizzy woman you used to work with who threw files all over the place, demolished desk lamps, and gave you a hard time for everything you ever did.'

He managed a wobbly smile. 'Never.'

Standing on tiptoes, she brushed her lips against his, tasting coffee, chocolate, and then the salt of sudden tears.

'Now who's not being fair?' he grumbled, breaking the kiss. He sighed. 'For all sad words of tongue or pen, eh? That Fortescue's a lucky bugger. I should've offed him while I had the chance.'

'Not funny, Harry,' she scolded, trying not to smile.

'I know. Sorry.' The hand that reached out to gently thumb away her tears was not entirely steady. 'Ruth, I once said goodbye to you thinking it had to be forever; how can you expect me to say it again when it doesn't have to be that way?'

'But it does. Don't you see that?'

'No, Ruth, I really don't.' He sagged against the shop window. 'At least up til now I knew that if I really wanted to, I could get in touch. And birthdays, Christmases, I thought I might hear from you...I never stopped hoping, Ruth.'

'Let me go, Harry.'

His head dropped.

'Be happy,' she whispered.

He closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, she was gone.

A huge big thank you to all of you who have read, reviewed and favourited this fic, particularly those for whom it was far from easy reading. Some of you wondered if Jamie might be Harry's; I loved the idea, but I didn't like to think he'd be capable of cheating on Sally too, even if it was with Ruth. Plus, having promised this was the last chapter, how could I end on a bombshell like that? ;)