He sits inside his office, behind his desk, watching her getting ready to go.
He frowns. It's early for her to be leaving. Well, not early exactly. Not strictly speaking. Just early for her, early by her standards.
And she's reapplying her make up. All of her make up, not just her lipstick as is her habit.
She must be going out, he realises with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Again.
Out with someone else.
Is it the same man, he wonders.
"Fool," he mutters to himself, returning his gaze to the paperwork he's meant to be working on, staring unseeing at the pages, his mind full of unwanted images of another man wining and dining her, making her smile, making her laugh, wooing her, kissing her, taking her home.
The door slides open, rescuing him from himself.
He lifts his head to glare at the intruder. Welcome though the interruption is, the handsome man stealing Ruth from right under his nose is still at the forefront of his mind.
"I'm off, Harry," she smiles, refusing to be deterred by his grumpy face. It never seems to phase her. And that is just one of the things he loves about her.
"Right," he replies, bringing his facial expression under control. "Going somewhere nice?"
He's fishing, but she replies anyway as if she hasn't noticed.
Perhaps she hasn't noticed. Perhaps it's never crossed her mind that he might care, might want, might long for her.
"I don't know. It's a surprise apparently."
"Oh." He looks away. A surprise – mark of a skilled seducer no doubt. "Well... have fun."
"Thanks," she says, then adds more softly, confiding in him as has been her habit of late since she'd helped him apply for DG. "My mad friends from uni are taking me out for a very late birthday celebration."
His eyes flick back to hers, chest expanding in relief as he struggles to hide his joy.
"Oh!" He tries to keep the pleasure out of his voice, but fails. "Er... mad friends?" he adds quickly, hoping she hasn't noticed.
"Yes. You know the type. Always looking for an excuse to celebrate. I only see them once a year for my birthday really. The rest of the time, I try to avoid them. It really isn't safe to see them more often."
Her smile is mischievous, but she said not safe, so he's up and round his desk before he can stop himself.
"Not safe?"
"You know what I mean," she sighs, feeling the concern coming off him in waves. Why do they all assume she's in trouble all the time? Does she really come across as such an incompetent, pathetic person who always needs to be rescued? She's a bloody spy, for Christ's sake! "They're always trying to set me up with someone. I'm dreading tonight. Second year in a row that I'm single. They're going to be pulling out all the stops. I'm seriously considering talking Danny into being my boyfriend for the night."
The last bit is said as a joke, he can tell, but something in him snaps at the thought and he hears himself say, "I could help you out if you like."
"You... Really?"
She sounds surprised and... pleased? Is that possible? His heart beats faster.
"Of course. I have no plans tonight and... well, I wouldn't ask for anything in return whereas Danny..."
"You're right. I'll be bringing him coffee every morning for a month." That impish smile is back and those eyes...
"At the very least." He grins, unable to stop himself.
"Okay." She nods decisively. "You'll have to be convincing though, Harry. You don't know them as well as I do. They'll be expecting me to pull something like this, so you'll have to act like you... um... mean it. You know, like you find me... irresistible."
Good God but she's gorgeous when she blushes like that!
"I can do that."
"Good. Well... shall we...?" She indicates the door.
She's not quite meeting his eye now and it makes him wonder.
"Yes. Let me just tidy up and I'll-"
"Meet me downstairs," she interrupts. "By the bus stop."
He watches her go with a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach. No acting will be required on his part tonight, but will it be on hers? What if all she wants is to be friends – good friends, close friends, but nothing more than friends?
Too late now, and besides, it's only a matter of time before she falls for someone else. She's young and vibrant, kind and funny, brilliant and yet naive enough, starry-eyed enough to fall in love. He's almost lost her once already to that Fortescue bloke and it had been only blind luck that the man had been too reserved, too reticent to make a move. He'd clearly been interested, far too interested for comfort. Why wouldn't he be, after all?
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he mutters to himself as he turns back to his desk.