Well, it's our first venture back into fan fiction since the little'un arrived, and it's something a bit different. No nine month saga, just a small little bit of nonsense we concocted these past few days.
Disclaimer: we don't own anything - we're just borrowing the characters from the BBC and Kudos.
For Helen - Happy Birthday - from Em and Kate xxx
After the chaos that was Havensworth, Ruth was glad to be wandering about in the fresh air and mingling with the afternoon crowds. Desperate to try and avoid sitting at home and thinking about Harry, she did what any self-respecting modern woman would do and went shopping. It had been the perfect plan, until she realised that she had come to a dead halt outside La Senza and was transfixed by the display of underwear on offer. It wasn't so much looking at the lingerie that was bothering her as the realisation that she was contemplating how she might look in it and how a certain Section Head might react were he to ever see her in it. In fact, once she was aware of this thought she was picturing them back in that hallway, except this time she was only in her underwear and instead of running from him she was slowly closing the gap between them, a look of intense longing on her face as he stood there spellbound. A rush of heat streaked through her veins and before she could stop herself she had crossed the threshold and was in search of the perfect underwear set.
"Can I help you?" asked the woman.
"Just looking, thanks," replied Ruth, already beginning to think this might be a bad idea. When on earth she thought she was actually going to seduce Harry and need this fabulous underwear, she still didn't know, but the seed had been planted and now it was a little too late.
She fingered the lace on a gold lace bra absent mindedly, and retreated momentarily back into her fantasy. This time she was sheathed in only in the golden two set, draped with a white sheet and reclining on a Roman sofa as Harry appeared through an archway, striding purposefully towards her.
"Popular," came a voice, rudely interrupting her daydream. "But I'm not sure it's your colour. Your skin tone should take something more vibrant, less earthy."
"Thanks," she gritted out, forcing the small plastic hanger back onto the metal rail and trying not to snap it. She deliberately didn't turn around; the saleswoman didn't need encouraging. Ruth moved to the far corner of the store, and resumed her interest in browsing the lingerie on offer.
A royal blue set caught her eye, and she couldn't help wondering if the sales woman was right…was this more the colour she would look good in? She picked up the silk push up bra, and carefully selected the right sized tiny silk shorts to match, before scurrying into the changing rooms before the saleswoman could pass comment.
Slipping into the cubicle, she undressed swiftly, discarding her slightly greying t shirt bra, anxious to slide into the luxurious fabric. It was the colour of deep, Mediterranean water and she wanted nothing more than to be on the beach, with the sand between her toes and Harry between h….
Her thoughts were truncated by a glimpse she caught of herself in the mirror as she fastened the clasp. It wasn't lifting and separating, and nor was it pushing up and together, more like……squashing and contorting. She let out a small, but audible "humph".
"Oh, let's see you," cooed the woman, who was evidently now just the other side of the curtain.
Bloody hell, thought Ruth, flushing red and mumbling feeble excuses in the direction of the opening curtain, but it was too late.
"Oh, ooooo, let's see, it's not quite right, is it?" She whipped out a tape measure and began taking various bust measurements of a now vehemently protesting Ruth before snapping the clasp against her back as she pulled it back to check the size she had on. "Hmm, well it's the right size," she sing-songed. "Here."
Ruth was about to question what "here" was, when two small hands cupped her through the material and began making every attempt to somehow make Ruth's breasts fit the bra shape better. She was just thinking it couldn't get more degrading, when cold fingers found their way into the right cup of material and began hoisting the mound of her breast higher, while the other cold hand wound around her back and yanked the strap such that it instantaneously became two inches shorter. She was forcibly turned to face the mirror as the sales assistant pointed out the merits of a shorter strap and a bit of manipulation in comparison to how it had looked before, gesticulating wildly from one breast to the other for emphasis. To Ruth, all that was evident was that her right shoulder now had a groove tunnelled in it from the strap, and that her right breast was dangerously close to greeting her chin. Even the squished, flattened and un-hoisted left hand side of her was more appealing and she was fast remembering why she only shopped in what Jo referred to as "boring underwear shops". In fact, she's give her eye teeth to be in Marks's right now!
--
The well ordered and easy to follow lay out of the Marks and Spencers lingerie department was a welcome relief to Ruth as she continued her underwear quest on familiar territory. The place might not scream 'sexy underwear' but she was certain that she would not only find something that was to her taste but that it would also fit properly, the last thing she wanted was to be popping out of the bra every time she moved. She moved swiftly passed the push up and strapless bras, deciding that as much as she wanted to impress Harry, if the opportunity ever arose for him to see her in it, she also wanted to feel comfortable and having her cleavage pushed up to her chin did not offer comfort. There was plenty of sensible underwear available and she spotted one or two things that she might buy whilst she was here, to replace some of her old and tatty everyday underwear but that could wait for now, she'd already spotted something else and made a beeline for it.
Her fingers trailed over the black silk of the bra before reaching the delicate mauve lace that swirled over one side of the cup and stretched up to the strap. It was just the kind of thing she was looking for, elegant and sexy without being over the top. Her earlier excitement returned and she eagerly rummaged through the rack to find the appropriate size before turning her attention to the matching knickers. Eager to try it on and see how it looked she headed for the changing rooms, a slight spring in her step now that her mission was almost complete. She gave a sigh of relief when the assistant posted on the changing rooms politely escorted her to a cubicle and told her to press the buzzer if she needed any assistance, being groped by one pushy sales person was definitely enough for one afternoon. Ruth took her time trying it on, looking at herself from as many angles as she could manage in the small space. She had to admit that she looked good and as she took notice of the sensual feel of the silk and lace against her soft skin and the way her curves were accentuated by the cut of the material she thought about Harry again. A soft, sexy smile claimed her face as she slipped into fantasy land again and pictured herself in his office, laid provocatively across his desk in just the underwear and a pair of stilettos, as she waited for him.
She snapped out of her daydream, a light blush staining her cheeks, as someone in the next cubicle debated loudly with their friend the merits of thongs versus briefs. Back to reality she changed back into her own clothes, gathered up her handbag and the underwear and scurried out of the changing rooms and towards the checkout before she stood there all day dreaming up different scenarios in which she seduced Harry.
--
She returned home just as the light was fading, exhausted from her shopping trip. Running up the stairs with the sort of excitement only possessed by women with new purchases which are crying out to be tried on again, she reached her room, discarded all her other bags in the corner next to the ottoman and upended the M&S carrier bag onto the bedspread. Admiring her buys, she was taken by an overwhelming desire to wear them to work tomorrow, despite the fact that no one would see them. She scooped them back into her hands, padded back downstairs and popped them on a delicate spin to soften and freshen them while she threw a handful of spaghetti into a battered looking saucepan and waited for both to be done.
--
"Bugger!" Ruth cursed, as Fidget decided to try and climb her leg, causing her to drip tomato sauce and one long strand of the pasta down her blouse. "Fidget." She shooed him away and continued to eat, lazily consumed by thoughts of Harry and her new underwear.
"Come on Fidge, don't sulk," she tutted, as the cat slunk away with scathing stare, and amused itself by twining round the table leg instead. She shovelled the last of her pasta in her mouth and stood up. "Din-dins." Fidget immediately took notice, and was joined by an excitable Rascal who skidded in from the living room and across the laminate floor of the kitchen. Ruth emptied the can in to two small bowls, filled a third with water, fussed the pair of fluffy felines and strode into the utility room to grab the washing.
"Mummy's been shopping, boys," she told them, as she re-entered the kitchen, but she couldn't command their attention when she was competing against a bowlful of food. "Hmm, you don't care, do you? You just think I'm a crazy old lady for talking to you." The smoky grey cat, Rascal, twitched his head in her direction, as if acknowledging the fact, and at this, Ruth shook her head at herself and left.
Trying to resist the urge - and failing miserably - she decided she had to try on her complete outfit for tomorrow, but it seemed that once she was in the underwear, impulse took over, and soon she was parading around in her smalls and trying to match them to various pairs of shoes she owned. Her boots made her look too kinky, her low pumps nowhere near kinky enough, but her black stilettos and a nice purple necklace made her look and feel sexier than she had in year…it was just a shame that the two best parts of the outfit would be hidden under her clothes, never to be seen.
--
The knock at the door was wholly unexpected and, as she hastily looked around for her dressing gown, and tried and failed to kick off the high heels that she had been parading around her bedroom in, she almost toppled over. Whoever was at the door was persistent in trying to get her attention and she half-ran, half-hopped across the landing as she threw her robe on and roughly fastened it.
"I'm coming," she yelled, from the top of the stairs, annoyed at having been disturbed and ready to maim whoever was on the other side of the door. She thundered down the stairs, hair flying all over the place until she could barely see and wrenched the door open. The first thing she noticed was the icy cold chill that seeped through the thin cotton of her dressing gown and covered her flesh in goose bumps. The second thing she noticed, as she impatiently swept the hair from her eyes, was Harry.
"Harry!" There was a definite squeak to her voice and she had to clear her throat in order to speak at a normal octave. "W-what are you...Is everything ok?"
Momentarily stunned into silence at her appearance, not least because she had answered the door in what appeared to be her dressing gown and very little else, it took Harry a second or two to find his voice. "Hi, I erm, fine. I'm fine, Ruth..." He couldn't help but look her up and down, taking in as much detail as he could. "Are you…wearing shoes?"
She could hear the slight confusion tinged with interest as he spoke, and hurriedly kicked the offending articles off, fighting a blush as she did so and hoping that, if there really was a God, that she would be spared the embarrassment of him finding out that she was wearing high heeled shoes whilst in her dressing gown.
"Are they stilettos?!" Evidently there was no God. Not that heard her pleas anyway.
Not wanting to lie or tell the truth, she chose to ignore the question. "Do you want to come in and tell me why you're here?"
He was suddenly reminded of exactly why he was there and found that his mouth was dry. He followed her inside and they stood in her hallway, silently staring at one another until Rascal shot past them, out into the night, causing them both to jump.
"I, erm, I was hoping we could talk." He saw her eyes widen in surprise and was about to justify why he thought they need to talk when she stunned him by nodding and inviting him into the kitchen. As he followed her he was unable to suppress the faint hope that he might be able to win her round after all.
--
"Cup of tea," she asked, already getting the milk out of the fridge. She shut the white door and turned around grab a pair of mugs and was suddenly aware of a cool breeze playing about her midriff, and a slightly dazed look on her guest's face. Screwing her eyes tightly shut, bowing her head down and then opening them again, she prayed the whole time that she wouldn't see what she thought she was going to, but the truth was as she feared - her dressing gown was undone, and everything was on show to all and sundry. She quickly tugged the sides, trying to force them to meet in the middle, but the left side of her gown was resisting and, as she twisted so frantically in circles that she managed to entangle herself in the belt, it became apparent that one end of said belt was firmly wedged in the fridge door.
"Shit," she muttered, yanking the material and having no luck. She reluctantly opened the fridge door, as if doing so might actually somehow draw more attention to the debacle. "Bugger that's cold."
Harry chuckled, throatily, and the violent blush she was already sporting intensified ten fold. She allowed herself a few more second bent in front of the refrigerator, hastily retying the gown and letting the icy air try and take some of the heat out of her cheeks, desperately trying to think of something to say.
"I, er…" Harry began, first. He was trying, in vain, to keep focus on her face, and not where the gaping whole in her robe had just been.
Mortified as she was at the whole situation, she fought hard not to show that she was slightly amused and secretly pleased that he didn't seem to be able to keep his eyes on her face. She wondered what was going through his mind and, as the images of her earlier fantasies combined with some fresh ones, she was glad that he couldn't see the inner workings of her mind.
"You…um," he swallowed and mentally shook himself. "Ruth, the reason I came round was-"
"Yes?"
"Was-"
She was aware that he was breathing heavily - as heavily as her, in fact - and wondered quite what was happening to them both. She looked at him, soulful eyes staring back at her intently. Now it was her turn to swallow hard. She was never one for reading the signs. She was never one for being bold. She was never one for making the move. But try as she might to deny it, she'd also never met anyone like Harry.
Cautiously, she broke his gaze, urging his eyes to follow her own stare as she focused on her slowly moving hand, unknotting the cotton belt. She let the two threads of it fall away and the material parted. Only then did she raise her eyes back up.
"Forgive me," she whispered.
"For what?" he gulped, mouth dry.
"What I told you…about us," she replied.
Her chest heaved and her breath came in small pants as he slowly made his way across the kitchen to where she was stood. She expected him to be hesitant, checking that she was sure and so was caught off guard when he stepped so close to her that she was pinned against the cold metal of the fridge door.
"You're forgiven," he whispered, his warm breath tickling her lips seconds before he closed the remaining sliver of space between them and kissed her.
She moaned, quietly, into his mouth, twining her hand into the short curls at the nape of his neck. His tongue brushed against hers as his hands slid onto her bare waist, holding her firmly and running nimble fingers over sensitive skin. Her body was now firmly pressed against the white appliance, and he was very firmly pressed against her.
"So I needn't ask you if you'd reconsider the date then?" he mumbled, against the crux of her jaw.
"Do your dates normally end like this?"
It was a frivolous question but his response, when it came, was quite serious. "I don't date, Ruth. I didn't date. Only you."
She smiled at him, sincerely, and took a deep breath in to steady her racing heart. "I think we should set a precedent then. All your dates with me should end like this."
"I think that's a given, Ruth."
He planted a quick kiss on her lips before continuing over her body, admiring the underwear and the curves with in it, appreciating them with hands and mouth and making her almost shake her head in disbelief that she almost walked away from all this for good.
His kisses travelled lower over her stomach and she realised he wasn't going to waste time getting to a bed or even the table before his explorations began. Dropping to his knees before her, his fingers took hold of the lace trim of the small briefs and caressed every curve as he inched them lower and lower. His hands returned their journey, snaking to the inside of her thighs, forcing her to spread her gait a little as he caressed her soft skin. She moaned, somewhat wantonly; it was too much and not enough all at once.
He moved to place his mouth where his fingers had been, placing soft, wet kisses on the creamy flesh and she writhed, trying the help his lips find their eventual goal all the sooner.
"Patience is a virtue," he tutted, mumbling so that his lips vibrated against her thigh.
"God Harry, I don't think anything about this can be described as virtuous."
He bit her, firmly but not too hard, in reprimand for her impertinence; just enough to leave a small red pinch of skin, before laving it better. His hands, so far resting on her parted legs, moved higher; one to her hip and one to bottom as he bowed his head forward and snaked his tongue out to taste her.
It inched over her flesh with masterful precision, exploring her intimately with languid stroked and teasing flicks before his whole mouth drew closer to tease her more. Oh God! Nothing in her fantasy had even come close to this – to being pinned by him, undressed by him, ravaged by him.
She felt herself begin to spiral out of control, and desperation to cascade into oblivion warred with desperation to hold on to this just that little longer as her legs began to tremble. One palm flattened out, fingers running through his hair, holding him there as the other gripped the counter top next to the fridge and she felt herself reflexively arch and tense and lose control of her breathing at his teasing licks of her sensitive flesh. She gave a silent prayer that he would hold her up, since she was fairly certain that her legs were going to give way at any moment and, as if he could read her mind, his hands steadied themselves firmly in support.
She came with a hoarse cry and a violent shuddering of her body, fuelled by his actions not only right now, but in her head all day, building her to this point. His ministrations never ceased, but faded to the lightest of caresses, tracing small patterns against her as the pulses of her climax died away.
Slowly, she un-tensed her shaking legs, their muscles twitching with adrenaline, release and the strain of supporting her, and slid down the fridge until her eyes were level with his. Her chest was a delicious berry red, glowing slightly with perspiration in the artificial light.
"Ok?" he asked. It was such an inadequate question, but he knew that no phraseology was adequate right now. His eyes found hers, and held them as he asked.
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, and one side of her mouth arched mischievously into a grin as she nodded.
Leaning forward, his hand brushed her hair from her eyes, the pad of his thumb gliding lightly across the apples of her cheeks before bringing her face to his and planting his lips against hers. She could taste herself on his mouth, drawing his bottom lip between her own and winding her hands around his neck as his mouth widened and their tongues began to find a rhythm.
She pulled away suddenly, her legs protesting at squatting, and his eyes questioned the unexpected end to their kiss.
"I've got to stand up," she laughed.
He gave a short laugh in reply and she dropped to her knees instead, overcome by the need to kiss him again.
"Or, I could lie down, if you like," she offered. She leant backwards slightly, supported by one arm as the other grasped at his shirt.
"No," he whispered. "I'm assuming you have a bedroom somewhere, Ruth, and call me conventional, but I want to take you up their, finish undressing you and take my time exploring you…" he heard her breathing hitch and he could tell by her posture as their bodies touched that he was affecting her. "…And all preferably on a surface that doesn't make my knees want to bleed," he finished, and was met by a playful shove to the shoulder before both her hands grasped his face and her mouth collided with his.
--
"Harry?"
"Hmmm?" He answered lazily, his eyes still closed as he basked in the feel of her warm body pressed along his and her head pillowed on his chest.
"Did I mention that I love you?"
He opened his eyes and looked down at her, kissing her hair before murmuring, "Once or twice."
"Good." He felt, rather than heard, her speak as she twisted her neck and planted a kiss on his chest. "If I'd known that flashing my underwear at you would have got us here, I might have done it sooner!"
She felt his chuckle as it reverberated through his chest and lifted her head up to watch him. "You'll just have to flash me more often to make up for lost time then, won't you?'
"If you insist," she whispered, flirtatiously.
"Oh, I most definitely do," he whispered, as he threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her unresisting mouth to his for a promising kiss. She sighed happily into his mouth and lost herself in the taste of him. He brushed his tongue against hers teasingly as he moved suddenly and rolled her underneath him.
She was breathless as he wrenched his mouth from hers and it took her a second or two to open her eyes and realise that he was staring at her, a look of confusion on his face. "Harry, what...?"
"Why were you parading around in your underwear?"
"W-what?! Harry!" Why was he asking her this now? She could think of far better things to be doing at that moment and, as if to make her point, her hands swept down his back and onto his tight rounded buttocks, squeezing gently before allowing her nails to scrape lightly over the firm flesh. He gave an involuntary shudder at her actions and reached a hand around his back, grasping her hand and entwining their fingers as he placed their joint hands by her head, before ducking back down and kissing her briefly but passionately.
"You were wearing stilettos, Ruth. With your underwear. What were you up to, I wonder?"
She tried to squirm from his gaze but found that she had nowhere to hide. "I was planning my work outfit..." she trailed off unsure how much to reveal, only noticing how that must have sounded when his eyes widened in shock. "Oh God, I wasn't going to wear only that and well, if you must know, I got a bit carried away thinking about...how good the underwear looked, so I put the shoes on."
It amused him to see that she was blushing and avoiding his gaze, despite being in bed naked with him and having already allowed him to explore her body intimately.
"Shame," he teased, as he leant in for a kiss. "Although, as your boss, I'd have to ensure you were suitably disciplined for such an offence."
There was a definite spark of interest from Ruth as she raised her eyebrow at him and he laughed in delight at her resulting pout when he refused to tell her what said punishment would involve.
"You'll have to try it and see..." she didn't have time to protest as he captured her lips once more and renewed his earlier efforts. Her last coherent thought before his lips travelled down the left hand side of her neck was that she might just have to surprise him one evening and find out.
Thanks for reading, please review xx