Ruth took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. Ignoring the clock ticking down the seconds loudly in her head, she put herself back in her room at Oxford. She gave her memories free rein, blindly trusting that her brain would throw forward the most pertinent ones.

It was a Sunday – she could hear the bells tolling outside – but she was snug in bed. A shaft of sunlight fell across the duvet, and for a while she lay there and watched the dust motes dance in it. She smiled, ridiculously happy and sated. Who would have thought that her decision to take Arabic would have such unexpected benefits? She could feel him wakening behind her, and the hand slung across her middle tightened momentarily against her flesh as he shifted from slumber to wakefulness. It only lasted a few seconds, though, before she felt him stiffen and the hand slid off her abruptly.
"Is it Sunday?" he demanded, a rough edge to his voice.
"Mm," she said lazily, and felt the bed dip as he suddenly got up. She rolled over and admired his lean, dark body and mumbled, "Come back to bed, Kamil."
He swung round, and she almost recoiled at the wild, angry look in his eyes. "No! It is the 12th of May today."
He must have seen her reaction, as he added more calmly, "I'm sorry. There's somewhere I have to be."
She watched, perplexed and a little disquieted, as he threw on his clothes with jerky movements and strode out the door, before abruptly deciding to follow him. She ignored the little voice in her head that told her that it was her own insecurities that made her distrust him.

Ruth opened her eyes and quickly glanced at her watch. One minute.
"Harry. Try permutations of the date 12 May 1981."
She looked straight at Kamil as she talked to Harry, and saw his eyes widen in surprise.

- 0 –

120581
ERROR
Forty seconds

051281
ERROR
Thirty-five seconds

"Harry?" Her voice sounded small and his heart broke. They could have sorted it out; they could have had a future.
"Yes, Ruth." He kept the rage and fear he felt out of his voice. He didn't want the last words she heard from him to be coloured with those emotions.
"I would really like a second date," she said softly, and he heard her voice catch.

810512
ERROR
Twenty seconds

He smiled sadly. "Me too," he murmured, focussing on her breathing and blocking out everything else. He wanted it to be the last sound he heard, if it were to end today.
"Try alpha-numeric," Zaf suggested, vaguely aware that Mace had buried his face in his hands.

12may81
ERROR
Ten seconds

"There are too many permutations!" Malcolm said despairingly as his hands began to shake. Zaf put a calming hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring nod. "You have time," he said, and the trust in his eyes galvanised Malcolm. He tried one more time.

May1281

They all stared at the counter, hoping for a miracle. Harry was aware of Ruth's breathing in his ear, and memories of earlier flooded him. He felt again her lips under his, her soft flesh pressed against his chest, and he was about to close his eyes when he realised.
"It's stopped."

Six seconds

It flashed over and over, before it gave a discreet beep and the display changed.

DISARMED

Harry finally closed his eyes.

- 0 –

Zaf whooped and bounded around the office, unable to contain the nervous energy that had built up any longer. "Malcolm, you star! You absolute bloody superstar!" he yelled, grabbing the man in question from behind and enveloping him in a bear-hug.
Malcolm didn't say a word; he was frozen, unable to tear his eyes from the device.
"Malcolm?" Zaf queried, letting go and observing his colleague with a frown. "It's over, you did it."
"Get some whisky into him," Harry ordered, recognising the symptoms of delayed shock quicker than the others. Perhaps because his own hands had a slight tremble in them. He took a few breaths. "Ruth?" He didn't mean for his voice to turn quite so soft and warm, but he could not control it. He was still alive, she was still alive, and now they had a chance. "It worked. Your code worked. The bomb has been disarmed. Well done."
She made an indistinct noise, and he wasn't sure whether she was laughing or crying at the other end of the comms. He would find out later, because now they had time. First, he had other fish to fry.

He turned the full force of his attention towards Mace, and the wrath in his eyes made the JIC Chairman swallow. Mace glanced around, but there was no help to be had.
"Now, Harry-" he began, but Harry would not hear it.
"Shut up." He didn't raise his voice, but the words cut across the Grid and everyone froze. "There is nothing you can say that will justify what happened here today. Or the plot to kill our best analyst for the paltry reason that she knew your stooge. You are finished, Oliver. I will personally see to it that you are banished to the ends of the earth for this."
Mace licked his lips nervously, but he was beginning to rally and was not quite willing to give up without a fight. "You can't prove that I had anything to do with it," he challenged with more bravado than he really felt, and Harry's eyes flashed dangerously.
He was about to respond when a voice behind them said, "Actually, he can."

They swung around in surprise, to find Adam, Jo and Nicholas Blake standing inside the open pods.
"This floor is supposed to be sealed off," Mace said, caught off-guard.
"I ordered it unsealed," the Home Secretary snapped. "You do remember that I out-rank you, don't you, Mr Chairman?"
"You found it?" Harry asked Adam, ignoring the glaring contest between Mace and Blake for the moment.
Adam grinned. "I did." He stepped to the nearest computer and inserted a CD. The screen came alive to the image of two men sitting on a park bench. The camera zoomed in until Mace and Kamil Misral were clearly identifiable.
We need to get rid of Harry Pearce, Mace said on the video, before laying out his plan to get a bomb on the Grid.
All eyes turned to the real Mace, and he looked down, resigned to his fate.

- 0 –

Later

He found her on the roof.
The first rays of the sun painted the windows of the skyscrapers around them orange, and she lifted her face to their tentative warmth. She was alive, Harry was alive, and together with the team they had thwarted another attempt on the integrity of the Service.
It felt good.
She sensed his presence even before he settled himself next to her, leaning on the railing and looking out over the slowly wakening city. He had left a tiny gap between them and she shifted slightly, until her arm was pressed against his. His warmth seeped through their layers of clothes and into her bloodstream, and she smiled.
Alive.
It was Harry that eventually broke the silence. "How did you get the code out if Misral?"
"… I didn't."
He turned to her, surprised, and she looked down at her hands with a small frown.
"I figured it out." She told him of the Sunday morning she had followed Misral, convinced that he was stepping out on her, only to find that he was visiting the graves of his sisters. "He spoke to them; promised them that they would be avenged. I watched-, no, I spied on him from behind a tree, and I had never before seen such naked hatred in someone's face. After that I did some digging, and found out that they were killed in a suicide bomb attack in 1981, on the 12th of May."
She lifted her gaze to him then. "Pathetic, isn't it? To be so insecure that one would follow your boyfriend, and then quietly dig up information on him rather than just asking him."
But Harry shook his head immediately. "No. You could sense that something was amiss and you did what was necessary to get the information you needed." A proud smile flickered around the corners of his mouth. "Like I said, a born spook."

She searched his face, looking for any hint that he was simply placating her, but found nothing but genuine admiration. And something else, something that she was not quite ready to name yet.
"What will happen to Mace?" she asked, and he sighed and looked away over the city.
"This whole episode will have to be covered up. It would be a crippling body-blow to the Service if any of it got out. We are already struggling to hold onto the trust of the general public." He added with genuine regret, "He'll walk away a free man. As long as he agrees to leave the country quietly, he won't be prosecuted. I'm sorry, Ruth."
She nodded slowly. "And Kamil?"
Harry watched her carefully. "He could come in handy in future, if we can win his trust. What do you think?"
"I… think that's a good idea." She caught a flash of something in his eyes, and it took her a moment to place it. Possessiveness. A hint of worry.
"I have no lingering feelings for him," she blurted before she could stop herself, and could feel her skin flushing in embarrassment.
A similar flush crept up Harry's neck as he realised that she had just read him like a book, and he cleared his throat. "Well. That's good to know."
"Yes."
They stood in awkward silence, looking everywhere but at each other, before Harry bravely stepped into the breach. "So, about that second date…?"
She released a relieved breath. "Friday evening? Dinner at mine?" she invited boldly.
He was stunned for a moment, his mind awash with images of the two of them on her sofa, closely entwined and kissing passionately, and hurriedly said, "I'd love to."
His voice sounded hoarse, and she turned her full attention on him then, and gave him a knowing look, and he didn't even try to fight the urge to kiss her. He simply pulled her to him gently, and when she didn't resist, he lowered his lips to hers.

- 0 –

Malcolm made sure to make a lot of noise as he pushed open the door to the roof. He found them standing close together, gazing at each other, and he pretended not to notice Ruth's kiss-swollen lips.
"Harry, they need you downstairs."
Harry straightened and nodded, and shifted his mind back to work with some effort. "See you later," he murmured softly at her and she smiled, and gently touched his hand. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

As he turned to follow Malcolm, Harry suddenly remembered something. "Malcolm, what did you mean by that comment earlier about Adam's 'misdemeanour'?"
The techie was caught unawares, and started to stutter. "I, er, he, I mean to say, uh, well you see, erm… Oh! I hear my phone ringing."
He bolted away down the stairs, and Harry stared after him in alarm. "Malcolm!" he called, striding after the fleeing man. Ruth's low, warm laugh followed him down the stairs, and he couldn't suppress his own smile.

The future suddenly seemed a lot more promising.

Fin

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