3
Giving a chance.
OK., so we know that Ruth in 9.4 is involved in a bomb scare, that there's some explosion. Here is a scene which I hope (!) will happen at the end of the episode.
'Beth, where's Ruth?'
The young woman looks at him thoughtfully, noting the worried look, the harassed expression, the lines around his mouth. 'She said she needed some fresh air.'
'Right. How…how are you?', he asks kindly, torn by his pastoral duty to his newest recruit and his need to find Ruth.
'OK. I think. Ruth…we had a chat. She was very helpful. I'll be fine, Harry.'
'Glad, I'm glad….go home now. Get some rest. Back here tomorrow, yes?'
He leaves the Grid without even waiting for a response, going straight for the rooftop.
She hasn't heard him. She is looking towards the London skyline, looking absurdly young in her informal clothes. From where he stands he can make out the scratches on her face. Never again, he swears to himself, never again can I allow her to do this. Never again can I go through this either…
'Ruth?'..
She turns around, unsmilingly. 'How are you?', he asks inanely. 'Has the nurse looked at your…' He trails off. She is staring at him as if seeing a ghost. 'I'm OK', she whispers.
'You should go home', he says, his voice roughened by his emotions. 'I'll organise a driver for you. And Ruth…I don't want you ever to expose yourself like this. You're a desk agent and sending you there was a mistake. I shouldn't…'
'I wanted to do this. Besides, I was the best person to go undercover in that firm, and you know it.'
He shakes his head. 'Next time we'll find some other way. I can't…'
'You can't chain me to my desk, Harry', she says tonelessly.
'I'm your commanding officer', he snaps, hands rammed in his pockets, 'and if I decide that…'
'This is ridiculous', she retorts, holding herself stiffly upright in order not to collapse. 'If Beth had had the skills to go in you'd not have given it a second thought. You can't treat me any differently just because…' She turns away, on the verge of tears, shaken beyond description by the terror she experienced when she thought the building would go up in flames, her thoughts at the time filled with him, and her regrets and longings for what might have been. If he would only reach out now, and be kind instead of angry, she thinks bleakly…
'Just because what?' he asks, his tone challenging instead of inviting, harsh instead of soft.
'Nothing. Forget it. Look, I'll be fine, I just need a few moments here, that's all. I'll be back on the Grid in ten minutes.'
He stares at her incredulously. That's all?, he thinks angrily. She could have died today, she knows how I feel, how scared I must have been for her, and that' s all she can say…He clenches his teeth. 'Take all the time you need', he grinds out. 'And when you're done I want you to go home.'
He turns away from her abruptly and sets out to leave the roof, furious with her, with himself, with their hopeless non-relationship.
'Harry!'
He stops. He's never heard his name said, shouted that way, with such despair and animal longing. He turns round slowly to face her. Her eyes are brimming with tears. 'Yes?', he asks cautiously, forcing himself to stay where he is, and to not go to her.
'Would you…' She can't continue, gripped with fear suddenly, but knowing that she must somehow find the courage to go through with it.
He takes a few steps towards her. 'Yes?', he asks again, his heart beginning to soar.
She takes a deep breath. 'Would you… I was wondering whether…' She wraps her arms around herself to still her cries.
He is standing so close to her now that he can almost touch her. 'Would you show me?', she asks pleadingly through her tears.
'Show you what, Ruth?' He needs her to say it: for his sake, their sake, she has to be the one to ask.
'Show me…the man…you really are', she finally manages, her eyes never leaving his face.
And it's as if the tension of months of worry, fear and sadness suddenly leaves him. He sighs, deeply, and frames her face in his hands. He kisses her eyes, one after the other, and draws her to him. 'At last', he chokes, 'at last….I'd given up hope.'
She burrows against him, her arms around his waist, cleaving to his strength and warmth, racked with sobs. 'I'm sorry….so sorry….so sorry….', she whispers.
He rocks her gently to soothe her, still not quite believing that she is there, in his arms, her body reawakened his to long forgotten sensations. 'Sorry for what?' he asks softly.
'For taking so long…for hurting you…' She raises her head to him. 'I love you. For such a long time…'
He strokes her cheeks with his thumbs. 'You don't need to…'
'Yes. I do. I owe you that much…it's just…it seemed easier, for a while, to lock myself in. To punish myself for the things I have done. Do you see?'
He rests his forehead against hers. 'Yes. Of course.'
He kisses her lips, gently, softly, his feathery touch a promise, his hands on her hips a statement of intent, the glow of London's evening lights slowly enveloping them in their tender and careful embrace.