Ruth was not a violent person, as a rule. There was the time that she whacked a guy over the head with a log, but he had tried to kill her and Adam with a crossbow, so she thought that was a valid exception. Her emotions the last few weeks had been a turmoil, to say the least, and now with the distinct possibility of an assault charge over her head, she had no qualms whatsoever about pouring out a second exceptionally large glass of wine, despite Beth's worried look in her direction.

"So the Inquiry went that well, then?" her flatmate asked.

Ruth didn't dare answer.

Earlier that day….

It was the second day of Ruth's testimony before Harry's Inquiry panel. She was trying hard not to lose her temper or composure, but her patience with a room full of pompous bureaucrats was wearing very thin. She had hoped to at least see Harry, but he was not allowed in the room while she was testifying. Some IA officers had led him off the Grid whilst she was down in the Registry, and that had been that. She hadn't clapped eyes on him since. Contrary to what she had said earlier she did have feelings, and her analyst brain was working overtime trying to sort them out, but it was almost too much to deal with at once. Ruth was alternately guilty, angry, grateful, regretful, and scared and then back again. She also missed Harry horribly. The Grid certainly wasn't the same without his strength and dry humour, and although things between them had been awkward to say the least, that uneasiness was preferable to the emptiness she was carrying around with her.

"You can rephrase that question as many times as you like, but my answer is still the same, Mr. Chairman." She had spent the whole morning trying to explain a relationship that she herself had no explanation for. She did, however, know one thing for certain.

"You still maintain that you and Sir Harry have not had sexual relations?"

"As I have told you several times already, we have not."

The same questions continued until Ruth thought she was ready to scream. Mercifully, just when she thought she couldn't take it any more, the panel had decided to quit for the day. She found herself sharing the lift with Michael Ellis, a member of the panel from Six.

"Long day?" he asked her sympathetically.

"Yes," she agreed.

"I suppose it must be true what they say…about the quiet ones."

"Sorry?"

"The great Harry Pearce committing treason…" Here he leaned over and whispered in her ear,

"You must be one hell of a shag! Do you only go for knights, or…? I promise I'm at least as fit as that old…"

A fist to his face prevented him from finishing his thought.

The next morning…

Harry Pearce entered the meeting room, followed closely behind by his impossibly young solicitor. He had long given up hope of being able to see Ruth during the proceedings, but he was still disappointed to find the room empty of her presence. He missed her, more than he thought possible, and wondered, not for the first time, how he made it through the time she was in exile. The last few weeks had been bleak, and the only thing that had improved his mood even a little bit was early that morning when he had read over the transcript of her testimony of the last two days. She had been truthful, but her answers were not entirely free of emotion, and that little sliver of hope for her sake, was festering in his heart. He didn't fear prison or disgrace, but he was fearful that what he had done had destroyed her respect and (dared he hope) friendship for him.

Eventually, the panel filed into the room, and Harry couldn't help but notice that Ellis was sporting a very fresh and obviously painful broken nose. Other members of panel looked curious, too. There were mutterings of "accident" and "fell down the stairs" but Harry, knowing Ellis' reputation (which was scarcely hampered by the fact that he was married), could reasonably suppose what had really happened. Of all the hypocrites in front of him, Ellis was perhaps one of the worst. In that moment, Harry wished he could by that lady a drink. Or two. Just for giving him something pleasant to imagine during this morning's round of questions.