AN: One of two one-shots that were inspired by a comment Sigma Creations made in the Facebook HR group about Harry cheating on Ruth. While all isn't as seems in this fic, I can say that the other one-shot I'm about to post does have Harry cheating on Ruth.

Thanks to NatesDate for giving this a read through. Hope you enjoy.


He's sitting in the back garden, tumbler of whisky on a wrought iron table. It's a cloudless night, the moon illuminating the green space. In the distance, the sounds of the London evening rush can be heard, but here; in the quiet of his personal space; it can be ignored. His fingers tap relentlessly against the table top, nails softly clicking as he waits for the phone to ring.

They'd agreed on half past 6.

It was now 6.41.

Reaching for the thin, silver device, he's about to cave and call her when it rings. Looking at the screen, he breathes a sigh of relief, deftly pushing the answer button.

"I was getting worried." He mutters in greeting, his tense body relaxing in the chair.

As he listens to her talk; he let's her voice reassure him more than just the ringing phone; he finds himself smiling softly, even as she inquires about their weekend plans.

"Everything is set," he says. "The hotel is booked and I really think it'll be good for us to get away. Together. Alone. Put some distance from everything and everyone."

He's quiet again, listening to her eager response and her whispers of what she thinks they should do when something square drops to the table. Sitting up, he looks at the box, eyes going wide as he realizes exactly what has flown through the air.

"I have to go." He murmurs, quickly disconnecting the call and lowering the phone, setting it next to the box.

Standing, he turns to find Ruth watching him, anger radiating from her posture.

"How long?"

"Sweetheart, what are you talking about?"

"I've forgiven you so much; overlooked even more; and yet you have the gall to stand there and feign deniability when I confront you with evidence?" Angry now, she gestures towards the box. "How long have you been screwing someone else? How LONG Harry?"

"Ruth, it's not what you're thinking."

"Not what I'm thinking? What could I possibly be thinking? That my husband; a man who has a past history of philandering; has found himself a side piece? Why would I be thinking that?" She steps back as he makes to lay his hand on her arm. "Don't touch me."

"Ruth – please, let me explain." He follows her, his fingertips just brushing the warm skin of her arm.

"You know, when I first found them, I thought 'oh, these must be old. They'll be no good; I'll have to throw them out.' They were in your hold all after all and we haven't used condoms since before we were married." She stops, lifting a hand to brush her hair from her face before continuing. "Except they were tangled up in the green jumper you wore on Sunday - with the receipt for them clinging to the back. And you know what – it had Sunday's date on it." She sobs as the pain she's feeling finally breaking through. "God, how could I have been so stupid? Don't touch me."

She's almost yelling now as she steps back against the house, her arms wrapping around her middle tightly.

"You've not changed at all, have you?" Tears are now freely running down her face. "Tell me, how long have you been sleeping with someone else?"

"I've not slept with anyone else since long before we were married." Voice raised, he steps to her; blocking her against the house. "If you would give me a chance to explain, you'll see I have not; nor do I plan on; being with anyone but you."

"Oh, so what? They just magically found their way into your wardrobe?" Come on Harry, do I look stupid?"

"No, you look emotional. And rightfully so." At her gasp of indignation, he steps closer, pressing against her, his mouth brushing hers. "Stop struggling." He whispers against her lips as she tries to push him away. "Just…give me a chance to explain."

"Go to hell." She hisses, wrenching her head to the side.

"Stop it!" He demands, hand rising to cup her chin. "They were; are; for us. What type of man do you take me for?"

"I don't know! Not anymore apparently." Her voice is strained as she openly cries, her shoulders shaking as he tightens his hold on her.

"I've it all planned out," he whispers, his mouth moving to rest beside her ear. "There's no conference this weekend."

"God!" she sobs, mind thinking the worse as her whole body begins to shake.

"I've booked us into a small Bed and Breakfast in Charmouth; somewhere quaint where we can get away from everything and just spend some time together. NOT for sex." he says, feeling her body tense at his words. "I bought the condoms just in case something leads to us making love."

"We've not used condoms in over a year." she whispers, voice hoarse as she clings to him.

"You miscarried three months ago. We lost our baby; I almost lost you. I'm not taking that chance again."

"I..." she stops, tears pricking her eyes again as any trace of anger leaves her. "I thought you didn't blame me?"

Leaning back, he stares at her eyes in shock. "I don't blame you." He says quickly, his mouth pressing soft, gentle kisses against her lips, the corner of her mouth, her cheek. "I blame Andrew Forrestal and his tackling you to the floor; tying you to the banister even as you were obviously in distress; for the loss of our child."

"But you obviously don't want another child with me; not if you're buying condoms before you'll sleep with me again."

"Oh my darling." he whispers, pulling her tightly against him. "Of course I want a child with you. But...the image of you lying on the floor; pale and unconscious; has yet to leave me. I'm not taking a chance that should anything happen; and I'm not expecting it to; that we'll get pregnant again before the doctor says you're perfectly healthy."

Hand raising to the back of her hair, he holds her close as he presses his lips against her hair. "And that's physically and emotionally."

He feels her nod as her arms wrap around him tightly, her face pressing comfortingly against his chest. It's some time later that he feels her pull slightly back. Glancing down, he sees confusion on her face again.

"What is it?" he asks softly, hand lifting to her cheek.

"The phone call." Eyes lifting to his, she meets his gaze. "You were having a seemingly secret conversation when I came out here."

"Ah," smiling now, he leans down to brush her lips with his. "Catherine. She's coming back to the UK for a few months. Her flats lent out until Sunday so I offered our house and guest room if she's willing to sit the animals while we're away."

"But work." she says, mind now working that the fear of him cheating on her has passed.

"I've been working with Adam. A temporary replacement from Section C will be reporting for work on Friday morning as my plan was to whisk you away Thursday evening."

"So...this has all been an elaborate plan on your part to have some time alone?"

Head shaking, he smiles as he pulls her close again.

"This has been an elaborate plan to try and find our balance with everything that's happened these past few months."

"Oh." she whispers, cheek pressed against his chest, her lips pulling up in a small smile. "I love you."


AN: If you've a moment, a review of your thoughts on this piece would make me smile - especially as I'll be receiving flames on the next one-shot I'm posting.