Disclaimer - Obviously I don't own any of the characters - they belong to Kudos and the BBC - which is probably for the best... Oh and 'Men and Motors' is actually a TV channel - I've just borrowed it as a title. Ta.
Thanks to: Gems for the Beta and the POGs for being patient :p
For Em - get well soon darling.
Men and Motors
Adam tried to warn Zaf but he was too occupied with his Top Gear magazine to notice.
"Interesting reading Mr Younis?" Harry deftly extracted the journal from the younger man's grip.
"Yeah, it's um, not bad."
"So, thinking of getting a new car then?" Harry asked lightly as he flicked through the magazine. Zaf shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Well, just looking, you know, like you do."
"Hmm, something in keeping with your occupation perhaps? Discreet, understated, blend-into-the-background?"
"Of course." The reply was delivered with a smile and a wide-eyed innocent look.
"Good..." Harry's attention had been drawn to something. "Now that's a car," he said softly.
"So what's caught your eye?" Zaf asked breezily, ignoring Adam's warning look.
"E Type. I really wanted one when I was younger. I had to make do with a Triumph Spitfire." He sounded wistful, lost in memories.
Zaf grinned and winked at Adam, "Well the E Type is definitely a …"
"Classic. Yeah, a great car." Adam interrupted before his reckless colleague earned himself a long-term posting to Basra.
"You two may mock, but it is a classic in the truest sense of the word." Ruth stepped out of the pods just as Harry finished speaking.
"What's a classic?"
'Harry' was all Zaf managed to say before his phone rang.
"Harry's a classic?" Ruth looked confused.
Adam coughed violently to disguise his laughter.
"I've been called many things over the years Ruth but I can safely say that's the first time 'classic' has been used," Harry said dryly.
She started to turn a delicate shade of strawberry. "Oh God, no Harry, I didn't mean…"
"It's OK Ruth, I know. We were talking about this." He held the magazine up and tapped his finger against the picture of the Jaguar.
"Ah, right I see."
Adam, recovered from his choking fit, gallantly stepped in. "Well Harry, at least she didn't describe you as vintage."
"Very amusing Mr Carter. Don't you have any work to do?" Harry threw the magazine back on to Zaf's desk where it skimmed across the surface, stopping just short of a full cup of coffee.
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Harry leant back in his seat and rubbed his hand over his face. Looking across the Grid, he saw that Ruth's light was still on. He glanced at his watch – 11.15 – she really should have gone home by now. He felt slightly guilty that he was pleased she was still there. He watched her for a few moments feeling sure she would look up and see him. She didn't. His brow furrowed. Whatever she was doing had completely captured her attention.
Ruth subconsciously licked her lips as she absorbed the words on the page in front of her: Just when he thinks he can't take any more, run your tongue along …
"Why is it that all of my staff seem to have time on their hands today to read magazines?" The familiar warm voice cut through her fantasy.
"What? Harry, er, oh…" She stared at him feeling the heat rising in her face.
He tried to remove the magazine from her hands but she held on to it tightly.
"Come on Ruth, it can't be that bad," he said before finally getting her to relinquish her grasp. Apparently it was.
Harry stopped breathing when he read the title of the article she had been so engrossed in: '50 Ways to Tease Your Lover – How to Drive Your Man Wild in Bed!' He gulped as he read number 25 and his mind was immediately filled with images of Ruth doing to him what was described in the text, and demonstrated by the lithe young couple in the accompanying photographs.
Ruth made one final, futile attempt to get the now slightly crumpled publication away from Harry. She gave up when she saw the expression on his face and felt herself blush even more furiously. She wasn't sure if she felt more embarrassed at having been caught reading the article or by the fact he was transfixed by the same descriptions she had been devouring moments earlier. She tried to ignore the voice in her head reminding her she had spent the last half hour imagining doing all fifty things to him.
"Um, I was reading the Hugh Grant interview…" At least part of Ruth's mind had stayed out of the gutter and she was grateful for the straw it provided for her to clutch at.
Harry finally managed to drag his eyes away from the explicit descriptions. He was finding it difficult to concentrate on what Ruth was saying as his head was filled with images of tip number 13. He was sure he wouldn't be able to get into the position required even if he had been thirty years younger and several pounds lighter.
"Hugh?" He finally managed to croak out.
"You know, Hugh Grant. Actor. Four Weddings and a Funeral, An Awfully Big Adventure, Love Actually." Ruth was speaking quickly, desperate to get Harry's attention away from the sex tips. She raced on.
"He's in a new film called Music and Lyrics. It's a romantic comedy. It sounds like quite good fun. He wears tight trousers and wiggles his bum a lot." Shit, she thought, that wasn't helping.
"Right." He sounded sceptical. "But this article is about…" Sex; his brain stalled on the word. Just say it, sex, it's just a word. You're both adults. It was impossible. There was no way he could say 'sex' to Ruth – not unless… He terminated that particular train of thought.
"The Hugh Grant interview is on the page before." Ruth prayed to whatever deity that might take pity on her that she was right. She'd barely skimmed through the article as her attention had been drawn elsewhere.
"OK."
With sweating palms and slightly shaky hands, Harry turned back to the previous page. Ruth watched him speed read the interview. After a minute or two, he spoke:
"Alright, prove you were reading about Hugh Grant." His voice was low and had a decidedly sultry edge to it.
Ruth felt her breath catch as Harry leaned down, his face now close to hers. His proximity, combined with the smell of his aftershave and the dangerous glint that had appeared in his eyes, was making her feel giddy. She was torn between kissing him and running screaming from Thames House. Deciding neither option would enhance her career prospects, she chose to speak instead.
"Okay. Well there's this bit about how the melody of a song is like sex. Then the lyrics are like getting to know a person; their story, who they are underneath."
The words had left her mouth before her brain could apply the handbrake. It seemed she had no difficulty saying 'sex' to Harry.
There was a long pause; neither of them knowing where to take the conversation next. Eventually, Harry managed to find his voice:
"Yes, correct Ruth."
She smiled weakly at him as he stood up straight, closed the magazine and handed it back to her.
"I wouldn't have thought that rag was your usual reading material."
"It's not. It's Jo's. I, I borrowed it." Ruth could feel her face starting to get hot again.
"Mmmm." Harry clearly wasn't convinced. He held her gaze for a moment longer and then started to head back to his office. He'd got halfway when he turned back to her.
"Oh Ruth."
She looked up at him.
"Number 39 – ice cream is much more effective." He winked at her and went into his office.
Please leave a review - I might tell you what number 39 is if you do... ;)