Helloooooo readers - you may have noticed that we have got ourselves our own account! For our first fic under our new names though, we've gone for something non-crazy...well, ok, it isn't silly, but it is possibly crazy and very AU, and you'll see why later, in Ch3!
Unfortunately, we don't own Spooks, but seeing as we're not making any money from them either, there's little harm done (we hope)! Besides, Kudos, if you're checking up on us, this whole fic is Nicola Walker's fault! We should explain that she didn't say "please write smut" or even "fic" - we simply shared a joke about this scene (specifically our take on it) which set our imagination well alight! The title also comes from what we spoke about with her. Let's hope she never finds it - poor woman! Sorry Nicola!
To Linda, Lynn and Natalie, who understand.
He takes the seat behind her, inhaling her soft scent as it lingers in the air. "Nice night out?"
A soft smile flirts with her lips as she acknowledges him, despite never taking her eyes from the book that is now gripped tightly in her hands. "I thought you were some weirdo."
It's a lie, of course. The feeling of him watching her is something her body recognises almost innately, now. She pretends not to notice, but there is no mistaking the warm tingling which spreads down her spine. Whenever that shiver runs through her, she's guaranteed to catch him just turning his glance away in time.
"I may not be your boss anymore, Ruth," he purrs, just the right side of danger…just the right side of flirting, "but there's no need to be insulting."
There is no response; at least, there is no appropriate response, and so she changes the subject.
"How did you know I'd be here?"
"Two months ago, I passed you standing at the bus stop in the pouring rain. I was being driven home. To my eternal shame, and now regret, I didn't stop."
"It's fine," she replies, and it really is fine; she means it. The journey is her place to sit and think. Her quiet sanctuary from which she watches the world pass by below the window. "I like the bus."
A quiet settles over them, just for a moment, but it's long enough. Long enough to absorb the changes which have taken place in these past few months. The changes that are taking place now. It might be strictly business, but this is the first time they've ever met away from work alone, and she knows the implication of that fact hangs unspoken in the air. She could say anything to him; there's nobody around who might care. She could volunteer anything about herself, about their shared interests, about her life after hours, but instead she swallows down her daring and sticks to what she's there to do.
"I have something for you."
Her arm moves to the metal bar along the back of the bus seat, resting subtly. To anyone else, she's stretching out, getting comfortable. Only he knows. This is a game for just the two of them to play.
He reaches out, fingers furling as they brush her palm. It's quite apparent to each of them that he now has what he needs, but he makes no attempt to pull his hand away. Without even thinking, his thumb wraps around the back of her hand and her fingers curl around his in unconscious response. They remain like that for some indefinable moment, only the friction of smooth skin - generated by the vibrating bus - gives the signal that time is still passing, and that everything's real.
Somewhere, in the far recesses of the bus, the sound of someone clearing their throat cuts across their consciouses and the real world filters back in. Behind them, the man with the headphones intrudes on their private moment with the regular thump thud thump of the music's baseline, and even the lights outside the window seem brighter, bolder and more invasive of their space.
Reluctantly, he pulls his hand away, tucking away his precious cargo, and lingering in indecision.
"Thanks. Keep an eye on Adam for me. He's st…"
She turns, abruptly, her shoulders square, and instantly he regrets that they have to end on this note. A part of him wonders if, just like him, she was longing for something more from this briefest of meetings. The feeblest of thank yous, genuine though it is, is all he can find to redeem himself. It doesn't feel like it's enough, but there isn't time for anything more.
She hears the bell and knows, without looking, that he's preparing to leave. She closes her eyes for the tiniest instant, a second of mourning for another lost moment between them. As he rises, he finds himself leaning forward and breathing in the scent of her hair. The moment of daring is his undoing and he freezes as the sudden realisation that he might never see her again hits him. The bus is stopping now but he is still upstairs, half in and half out of the seat behind her.
When her eyes open again, she can still sense his presence and she debates whether she should turn around or not. He is still lingering on the top deck as the bus pulls in at the stop; her guess is he's somewhere between the seat and the stairway, and the butterflies that have plagued her ever since he first spoke flutter faster than ever at the knowledge he is still there. With her. She doesn't dare move. Her eyes are glued to the pages of the book in front of her. She's staring so hard that the words are a jumbled mass of black ink and, if she looked closely at her hands, she'd see they were trembling.
The man with the headphones cuts in front of him to get off, and Harry makes his decision to stay, sliding back into his seat. He watches the back of her head, trying to imagine the look on her face right now, and wonders what he will say to her when she questions him. He continues staring at the back of her head, mesmerised by her hair and how some of it flutters in the breeze from a window that's open further down the bus. He calls himself a romantic old fool at the realisation of what he is doing, but doesn't attempt to avert his gaze. His breathing has become noticeably heavier, to him at least; he's not sure if she can tell and he can't decide if that's a good thing or not.
She can tell. She can hear him breathe as he takes his place behind her again, and she chews down the smile that threatens to form when she realises, from his breathy pants, that he might be just as unsure about what he is doing as she is. The knowledge she thinks she has gained gives her a confidence she would never have thought she could possess and, in one move, she shows him that she knows he is there, that she wants him to stay, and that, somehow, everything will be alright.
He's still thinking about his breathing when he sees her move in his peripheral vision. He turns his head to get a better look and watches as she slowly moves her arm along the metal bar across the back of her seat. Her move is an exact replica of the one she made not ten minutes ago, and he has to blink hard to be sure that he's not just replaying the memory of it in his mind. He can't help but reach for her hand and, as his thumb wraps around it and her fingers curl around his again, he knows it's real and that she understands.
Please review, there are 3 more chapters xx