So this is a short chapter, but I wanted this scene to have it's own little place, without getting lost in a larger chapter (plus the next one isn't written yet!)

Things weren't quite right when they were getting undressed again, after their impromptu visit to Ruth's house and the meeting with Angela Wells.

"Why don't you ever talk about Peter?" Harry asked.

"Because there's nothing to say," she replied shortly.

"He was your brother," Harry said.

"Step brother," she corrected. "I just… I only really knew him for a couple of years. Can we drop it? I don't like talking about him."

"We can drop it if you tell me what Angela really wanted," Harry said.

"You know what, I'll sleep in the spare room," Ruth said coldly.

Harry grasped her arm to stop her from leaving. "Don't walk away from me because you don't like what you hear. Talk to me."

She sighed very heavily but didn't leave the bedroom as Harry's hand dropped from her. "Fine," she said calmly.

"Just tell me," Harry said. More of a demand than a question. The silence between them was incredibly heavy and Ruth looked away from him. She knew exactly what he was asking her, even if he didn't say it.

"I know what you think anyway," Ruth said, shaking her head. "He didn't rape me. It… didn't get that far."

"How far did it get?" Harry asked quietly.

"Far enough," she said. "I can't… let my mind go there, Harry. I block it out." She sighed heavily. "As you've probably guessed, that's where my "not appendix" scar came from." She shook her head. "He got pissed off when I struggled and…" she shook her head.

"Do you need to talk about it?" he asked softly.

"Absolutely not," she said. "I can't. My defence against it is not thinking about it."

"I needed to know," he said quietly. "That you'd been through that. Before we… became intimate."

"No, you didn't," she said firmly. "Never once have I thought that maybe I should tell you. It's not sex, Harry. It's power and control. And… I didn't want you seeing it when you looked at me. I adore the way you look at me. I wouldn't want... I don't want to lose that."

"It's not your fault, Ruth," he said. "It wont change anything. I just wished you'd trusted me enough to tell me on your own. Without needing a push."

"I don't think about it," she said again. "And it was never something I wanted to admit to you in the first place."

"Come here," he said. After a moment she moved, sitting next to him on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Don't hide things from me, Ruth."

"I know I shouldn't," she said. "It's not exactly the easiest thing to bring into conversation." He stroked her hair lightly and they didn't speak any further. They didn't have to.

In the morning, Harry had left for an early meeting with the Home Secretary. Ruth found the microfiche document in her shoe, exactly where she'd left it. Making a decision on the spur of the moment, she crushed it under the heel of her shoe, then went to find some matches to burn it. She didn't want to read it, whatever it may say.

A little nervous about this chapter! Thanks for the reviews everyone!