Title: Rain
Fandom: Spooks
Prompt: Rain
Character/Pairing: Harry Pearce and Ruth Evershed
Rating: K
Word Count: 434
Summary: Musing on a rainy day
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Not only is this the first thing I've written in three and a half years, it's also the first time I've ever written anything for Spooks or Harry and Ruth. Please forgive me if it makes no sense or is crap. Set after 10.6 but doesn't give anything away. This is the first of my 100 pieces I'm going to attempt writing for the livejournal community 100-prompts.
She's curled up into the corner of the couch. An afghan the colors of an underwater city laying across her lap. Her hands are curled around a steaming cup of tea as she watches the rain pour from the sky through the window. It's quiet and peaceful here away from the hustle of London and the grind of the Grid. The perfect place to recover and find one's self again.
Most mornings she rises to the gentle rays of the sun streaming through the curtains. Far later than she's used too but much earlier than her companion likes. While he's still sleeping in the warmth of their bed she slips downstairs and has a cup of tea. It's not long before she's joined in the large kitchen by a little Jack Russell; the soft pads of her paws tapping quiet sounds against the wooden floor. With a smile, she always gives the pup a scratch behind the ears and the last bit of her tea. It's become their morning ritual. Morning tea followed by a walk along the edge of the forest.
By the time they've returned to the house, the others have awaken and she's greeted by one of the most beautiful sights in the world. The man she loves; the man she came so close to losing; sitting at the old, oak table in the breakfast nook wrapped in his dressing gown, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him as he reads the morning paper. Two cats who've gone from hers to theirs munching on the food that he's put down in her absence. As the door closes, the pup never fails to give a bark before rushing over to join the cats in their morning meal. And every morning, as the animals enjoy their meal, he folds the paper, places it down on the table and rises to pull her into his arms so he can give her the first of many soft kisses before they begin their day.
But its these mornings; as the rain falls outside the window; that she loves the best. There's no morning walk with the dog or time alone. It's these mornings that she wakes in his arms as he places soft kisses across the back of her neck and the side of her face. It's these mornings where they grudgingly leave the warmth of their bed for a late breakfast and than a day of doing absolutely nothing together. It's days like this that she's glad they've finally gotten their chance even if they'd come perilously close to losing all they've gained.