A sharp knock on the door pierced Harry's peace. He sighed and stood up to wrench it open, "If this is not important…"

"Sorry, sir, but there's a woman downstairs asking for you," the young man at the door looked rather nervous at the prospect of speaking.

"In my line of work, I do tend to attract rather a lot of unwanted female attention. However, that doesn't normally stop someone firmly showing the female in question out of the front door, and perhaps even adding that she ought to find someone more in her league."

He looked all the more perturbed, "I know, sir, and we wouldn't normally disturb you, but this woman is different. She's clearly insistent that she needs to see you – she needs to ask you something."

"Well, I need to ask you something – why the hell are you bothering me with this?" Harry questioned viciously, standing up and delving a hand into the filing cabinet. He was too tired to care if anyone saw him, or if he wasn't being very polite to this man.

"She knows all of the old protocols, sir – from around a decade ago," he'd clearly been told to be persistent, whatever the cost, "She knows the names of your team from the same time."

"All of this is probably available on the internet by now! If you're that desperate, by all means borrow one of my other officers to deal with it – and preferably don't bring them back," he sighed, yet he found himself intrigued, "Did this woman leave a name?"

"Yes, sir," he looked pleased with himself, "She said you'd know her as Zoe. Zoe Reynolds."

Harry's whisky-filled glass dropped to the floor with a crash, splattering alcohol all over the man's shoes, "And you didn't think to mention this at the start of our conversation?"

"Well, sir, I…"

"Bring her up here. Now."

"Don't you want her in an interrogation room or something? What if…" he trailed off as he saw Harry's expression, and hurriedly scuttled away, "Yes, sir."

"And get someone up here to sort out this mess!" Harry called after him.

"Harry?" Ruth appeared in the doorway, wide-eyed as she glanced around at the mess, "What's happened? Are you okay?"

"No I'm not bloody okay, Ruth!" he snapped, regretting it as hurt spread across her expression. He sank back down into his chair, his head falling into his hands.

Ruth crouched down by his feet and began collecting up the broken shards of glass from the floor. She worked in silence for a few minutes, only breaking it with a muffled gasp.

His head shot up, "Ruth!"

"I'm fine, Harry," she continued to tidy the floor, dropping broken glass into the bin, but blood dribbled down the palm of her hand.

He stood up and took her by the arm, directing her to the nearest seat, "No, you're not! God, Ruth, why do you always have to be so bloody-minded? I don't need any more problems today!"

Tears shone in her eyes; tears that weren't caused by pain, "I was trying to help."

"Yeah, well you didn't," he retorted, but he took her hand gently and inspected the wound, then turned to the door, "Dimitri!"

"Harry," he glanced up from the files balanced precariously on his knee, catching sight of blood glimmering on his boss's hands. He pushed his work to the floor and rushed to the office, "What happened?"

"I'm fine," Ruth murmured weakly.

"Did you…" Dimitri glanced between Harry, Ruth and the broken glass on the floor.

"I was tidying up."

"Oh," his face relaxed slightly, "Well, you should probably get it looked at…"

Harry sighed, "Why do you think you're here, Dimitri?"

Ruth shook her head apologetically – evidently it wasn't just her he was in a mood with, "I think that's his way of asking you to go with me. But I'm fine, honestly, I'm not a kid."

"Err, I…" Dimitri looked utterly confused.

Harry leant back on the desk, "I'm sorry, Ruth. I didn't mean to snap – I know you were only trying to help. And Dimitri, could you please take her down to get that checked out, just in case?"

"Wasn't so hard, was it? Manners don't cost anything, Harry," Ruth refused to meet his gaze as she stood up again. She realised she was trembling; something she couldn't disguise from either of them quickly enough.

Dimitri rested a hand on her shoulder discreetly, as though trying to calm her, "Come on, Ruthie, it's fine; we'll get some coffees as well."

She turned away as Dimitri guided her towards the door, speaking softly to her colleague, "I don't know why he cares anyway."

"Ruth…"

"What, Harry? What?" she spun back around, wishing she hadn't moved so quickly as nausea rose in her throat, "What is it that's so bad you've been in a mood all week? You're supposed to be our boss – you're supposed to guide us. How is shouting at the man who comes to deliver messages going to help? Don't you go pulling rank on us all of a sudden – where would you be without them? Without us? And why was there glass smashed all over the floor in the first place?"

Harry couldn't find a suitable answer to any of that now. Dimitri raised an eyebrow and directed Ruth out of the doorway, not willing to watch any more blood dribble onto the floor whilst they stood arguing. Harry shook his head, "Ruth, please. You know how important you are to me. I'd never imagine I could do any of this without you."

"You in which sense?" Dimitri mumbled to Ruth.

She managed a weak smile, "Who knows, Dimitri?"

"Look, Ruth…" Harry gave a deep sigh, "Zoe's back."

XxXxX

Just a little five chapter fic I wrote on holiday – I know the timings don't work out with Zoe, but I thought I'd write one with her for a change... and naturally there's the ongoing HR thing ;)

Please review! xx