On Her Majesty's Secret Service ~ H.S.

Epilogue

A few days after, we were invited into the ranks of MI6. I guess the trouble Harry and I went to preventing World War III was enough to impress the admissions manager. My dream had been achieved. I was being inducted as an agent alongside Harry, our past troubles behind us. I wanted to hold his hand as we stood up on stage, but I knew it would have been inappropriate. Andrew was the only one who knew about our relationship and I wasn't keen to have any of the others find out.

And that's where I stand now. On stage in front of all of MI6's great agents, trying not to let emotion get the best of me. I allow myself a quick grin down towards Andrew in the audience, but otherwise keep my expression blank.

With a few more formalities we're allowed to take a seat in the crowd while the next proceedings begin. Harry and I are officially members of MI6. All it took was risking our lives to stop the initiation of World War III. We're told that we'll be reporting for a duty in a week, then we're sent away. For the first time since we met, Harry and I have time to spend alone together with no duties, training, practice, or missions.

The Sunday after our initiation ceremony finishes, it doesn't take long to decide where to go. Harry calls us a cab and we retreat to the flat that MI6 bestowed upon me as a part of my 'employee benefits'. It's not large by any means, but it's clean and cozy and will comfortably house the two of us.

I drop my bags once I walk through the front door. With a large sigh, I plop down upon the couch. It faces a medium sized window which looks down upon the street from about four stories up. I haven't felt so domestic in nearly three months.

"How are you?" Harry asks simply. He limps over to the couch and also places himself down. The doctor said his leg should be healed within a month or two. For now, though, he's stuck to hobbling around with his crutches. At first he was annoyed to be slowed down, but I reminded him that he took the bullet for his country. It was something to be proud of, not annoyed by.

"I'm not really sure. I didn't think any of this was going to happen, if I'm honest." I tell him, my voice light and airy. The prospect of getting to relax for such a long period of time is nearly alien.

"You know, funnily enough, neither did I." Harry says sarcastically and I role my eyes.

"You didn't think the Queen was going to give you a personal once over? I could have predicted that." I snort. Harry laughs but I see his eyebrows crease in dismay

"It wasn't just me, you know!" He exclaims and I laugh again.

"Sure."

We remain in silence for a second and I feel my cheeks beginning to heat. What if Harry and I don't work outside of training? The thought scares me.

"I'm glad you're alive." He tells me and I laugh again.

"How romantic."

"You know what's romantic? Sacrificing yourself to a self-destructing base so your girlfriend can live."

"Are you ever going to shut up about that?" I drawl, joking of course. I thought a lot about the decision Harry was willing to make to save me. I don't think I could name another person that would do that for me in the entire world, and yet he seemed to have no hesitation. Of course I had been furious at the time that he didn't take me with him, but I understood the intention. At least he really does love me. I doubt he would have let himself die for me if he didn't.

"I think I might be able to milk it a little longer. It's only been 2 weeks you know."

"Alright then." I concede, not wishing to continue the subject further. Every time I think about how close Harry came to dying I start to get choked up. I don't show emotion often, especially not to Harry for fear of teasing.