AN: Hi, just took a night out of my longer story to write this, its Ruth's perception of that last scene in 5.5. Prepare for angst! R&R if you enjoy!

I turned to face the endless waters as the tiny speck on the harbour disappeared from my vision, he had obviously done the same; waited until he could no longer see the barge which carried me away from the life I had once known. I reached a hand to my face, feeling the traitorous tears which had threatened to spill so often over the past 36 hours, only now had I unconsciously allowed a tiny fraction of the sorrow I felt overcome me.

I had stood on the dock, challenging myself to believe what was happening to me. I looked into his eyes with all the courage I never knew I had, every ounce of pent up frustration and humiliation I had ever experienced; I took them all and conjured up every last drop of strength I could take from each of them as I held him. I had to be strong. I had known he would be there, to witness my sacrifice as I had witnessed his, we laughed pitifully and as I had attempted to leave he had stopped me. I knew what he wanted to say. I couldn't let him say it. I couldn't hear him tell me he loved me and then never see him again. Better to leave it unsaid. That is what I told him, as I boldly reached up to him and took his face in my hands. For so long I had yearned for this moment. I felt his skin beneath my fingers, trying to commit every line, every detail into memory.

Then I kissed him.

It was the most bittersweet moment of my entire life, my heart shattered into a thousand fragments, I felt him sigh and prayed I wouldn't cry. I kissed him again, willing it not to end, that when I opened my eyes this time somehow things would be different. They weren't. One last kiss, a small fleeting peck as I told him he had to let me go. I am a dead woman to him.