Disclaimer: None of the Spooks characters belong to me, unfortunately.

Not really sure where this came from...

Thanks to Em for the superfast beta :D

The Real World

The rain had stopped but the ground was still sopping wet underfoot. The droplets of water sliding off the leaves sparkled as the sun broke through the gunmetal grey clouds. Ruth paused to close her umbrella and then once again gripped the hand of the boy at her side. They walked in silence, their destination almost in sight.

The grass between the graves was lush and springy. Ruth could feel the damp seeping into her shoes as she crouched down to remove the old flowers from the small vase nestling amongst the stone chippings. A bunch of carnations had been placed by the headstone, their cellophane wrapping still in place. There was no card but she knew who had left them. She rinsed out the vase and cautiously arranged the fresh roses, mindful of the thorns. She thought it was ironic, given all the rain over the last two weeks, that she had needed to bring water with her. But she wanted to give their flowers a fighting chance so she tipped the remainder of the contents of the plastic bottle carefully into the stone container.

She gathered up the spent roses and wrapped them in the paper the new ones had been in. As she stood up, Ruth spoke to her companion.

"Do you want a few minutes on your own with your Dad? I can wait in the usual place."

The boy nodded, his blonde head bobbing up and down vigorously. "Please."

She squeezed his hand and walked over to a nearby bench. It was positioned at an angle that allowed her to see the grave but gave the young man standing by it some privacy. She watched him discreetly. He was thirteen years old, his fourteenth birthday less than a month away. Taller than her now and he would probably end up taller than his Dad. He was so like his father: the same complexion and eye colouring. The resemblance seemed to increase as the years passed and it made her heart ache.

Ruth suddenly felt old. How could it be summer again? How could they be here again, marking another year? How could it be three years when it seemed like only yesterday? She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. She wouldn't cry, not now, not in front of him. It wasn't fair, not today. When she reopened them, the boy was standing next to her. She smiled at him.

"OK?"

"Yes."

The sun had disappeared again and a rumble of thunder announced the imminent arrival of more rain.

"Come on, we'd better get a move on otherwise we'll get soaked on the way to the bus stop." She took his hand, aware that he would soon refuse that offer of comfort, saying he was too old and didn't need her holding onto him.

As they neared the cemetery gates, large raindrops began to splash onto the path. They increased their pace but stopped abruptly when Ruth saw a familiar figure leaning against a car, which was parked half on the pavement, half on the road, its hazard lights flashing.

"You'll get a ticket."

"I'll get Malcolm to cancel it."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"He can call it a leaving present." Harry pushed himself off the vehicle and moved towards them, turning up the collar of his jacket in a vain attempt to stop the rain trickling down the back of his neck.

"So it's all arranged then?"

"Yes."

"What's going on Uncle Harry? What's been arranged?" Wes's eyes were dark with concern as he looked up at the older man.

"My retirement. Another two months, then you and Ruth will have to get used to me being around fulltime."

Harry watched the fear drain out of the boy's face before it suddenly crumpled and he started to cry. He pulled Wes into his arms and held him tightly.

"Not quite the reaction I was expecting." He looked at Ruth, who also seemed near to tears.

"It's not that…" she shrugged.

"I know." Harry held out a hand to her, which she took, and then wrapped his arm round her as she pressed herself against him.

"Come on you two," he kissed them both. "Let's go home."

As the car pulled away, a young couple emerged from the side gate.

"We should have said hello." The short-haired blonde girl huddled under her umbrella and pulled her husband closer.

"No. You know the rules Jo. Serving officers aren't allowed any contact with former colleagues."

"But Zaf…"

"You heard Harry; two more months, then he's free of it all. Ruth won't go back after her career break ends, not now. So we'll be able to go and see them."

Jo looked doubtfully at him. "They probably think we've forgotten about them, and Adam."

Zaf squeezed her. "No they don't. Ruth knows who the flowers are from, I'm sure of it."

"You think so?"

"I know so." He kissed her gently. "Just a few more weeks, Jo – it gives you time to finish that piece about backpacking around Europe and my project at the bank will be completed. A couple of months and then we'll all finally be in the real world."

The End