after this is over
Disclaimer: still not mine
Summary: And for the first time in a long time he starts to consider that maybe this is not the end. Harry/Ruth. Spoilers for Ep 10.4 and Ep 10.5 (preview).
XxX
She declares their love sitting while on a park bench, simultaneously doubting any possibility of their future and asking him to love her enough not to let her go work for the Home Secretary.
It's a confused and confusing message. He does love her enough to not be able to let her go. And as she starts to pull away from him, mirroring his own recent behaviour, he starts to realise just how much he loves her. He just doesn't know how to resolve all this mess.
All he knows is that as bad as things are now, they will get worse. And he can't have her brought down by secrets and the past and dirty backroom dealings and the mess that this deal with Russia will undoubtedly cause. He loves her too much to allow that to happen.
For the first time in a long time, he's proud of himself for putting her first. Even if it means he has to push her further away.
XxX
As he encourages Ruth to move away from involvement with all this in order to save her from it, conversely, Elena gets drawn deeper into it all.
Late at night as he sits in his office and looks out to an empty desk, he wonders why he doesn't tell Elena to go back to Russia to save her from it all.
And he starts to think that if love is about putting the other person first, on some level, he's already made the choice between his past and his future.
XxX
He misses her daily presence. Once or twice he lifts the phone to call her, and then doesn't, because it's not what she needs.
Their paths cross professionally, and they sit in a meeting together. Her eyes discreetly seek him out. He knows this, because when possible, his can't leave her.
After the meeting, they walk out together and their fingers brush. And there's a spark, a warmth that passes through his whole body, and it's reminiscent of how it all was years ago, and he has no idea how he managed to miss this.
XxX
Mostly, these days, he's busily involved with the Russian talks and deals and resolving issues with the CIA. As predicted, everything gets increasingly worse. And all he wants is for this all to be over. Because the lines delineating what's right and what's necessary are starting to blur and he's no longer convinced that the end justifies the means.
He starts to think of a different future, outside of MI-5, and it almost makes him laugh, because he's spent his whole life trying to get here, and now he just wants to be anywhere else.
He's getting too old for all this. And for once, the thought doesn't scare him.
XxX
One time, she calls him, ostensibly to talk about work-related matters. But somehow the topic changes and she tells him about her work, her day. It's only for five minutes, because she gets called away by the Home Secretary, but it's so damn good to hear her voice.
Afterwards, he realises that it's the only bright moment in a day that he'd otherwise love to forget.
It's a day that makes him realise that he really does no longer want to be here. And the thought of maybe retiring after all this is over is about the only thing that keeps him going.
XxX
He doesn't know how this ends. He just wants to sort out all of this damn Russian mess, and he's no longer sure how. He can't talk to anyone, because there's no longer anyone left that he trusts. Not the politicians. Not the CIA. Not the Russians. Not even Elena.
And then, she calls him to pass on some information from the Home Secretary, and he realises that there is someone.
They meet in a multi-storey car park, and he tells her how wrong it's all going and his plans to leave MI-5. She listens, advises, and afterwards things somehow don't seem quite so bleak. He knows now that he needs her in his life, somehow.
Later, it occurs to him that there's another advantage to her no longer working for MI-5.
And for the first time in a long time he starts to consider that maybe this is not the end of them.
XxX
Things fall apart; the Russians leave, the Americans are no longer quite so positive about the relationship with their British cousins, and people Harry once respected are still dead.
But for once, apart from the deaths of friends and former friends, he feels happy.
He hands in his resignation and they call it retirement. Those of his friends who are still at MI-5 throw a party, present him with a retirement gift, and say goodbye, knowing that this is the last time they will speak to him.
When he gets home that evening, at last somewhat uncertain about the future, he calls her.
She's there in 20 minutes.
XxX
Now, he sits in a coffee shop, reading the Sunday paper. It's one of their rituals. Sometimes she reads a book, because she already knows what's going on in the world; other times, she talks to him and tries to distract him from the paper. She's mostly successful, although he'd prefer not to admit it.
Today, she sits and reads, and he's distracted anyway by just watching her. Six months ago, he could never have imagined that this would be their life; that she would be in his life in this way. No, that's a lie – he'd imagined it on many occasions, but never expected that it would ever actually happen. And with everything that happened six months ago, it nearly didn't, and only after hours of talking did he start to believe that maybe they could work things out.
He finds watching her a source of constant amazement. She teases him that it's because he no longer has anything else to do, and pretends to be exasperated when she wakes up and catches him watching her sleep. She doesn't mind though, and he knows it. He's caught her watching him sometimes as well, but he doesn't say anything.
He doesn't adjust too well to retired life, and although he's now realised that the occasional bit of gardening isn't all that horrendous, he'd rather not start making it too much of a hobby.
He's learned to cook. He reads Jamie Oliver cookbooks (a joke gift from her that he actually finds quite useful) and actually enjoys cooking meals for them to sit and share when she gets home from work. Over food and wine, they talk, and although she probably shouldn't, sometimes they discuss her work, and he helps her consider solutions. He suspects that the Home Secretary is entirely aware of this and doesn't seem to discourage it.
Now that he's finished repainting most of the house, he's considering possible work options, because years' worth of idleness doesn't appeal to him. He sometimes misses his colleagues, but she reassures him they're all okay. Recently, he saw Dimitri laughing and playing football in the park with a young girl, and as they recognised each other, they subtly acknowledged each other before he walked on.
Now, he lives for the evenings and weekends. Their time spent together. She moved in with him a couple of months ago, and he was surprised at how easy it was to share his life. They argue on occasion about the usual things, silly things, like toothpaste, and the appropriate amount of time that washing up should be left out by the sink, but mostly it's been an easy transition.
He takes immense pleasure in the small things: in waking up next to her, in their touches, in talking about things that have nothing to do with work, laughing.
It took a long time to get here, but as he lies in bed watching her as she sleeps that night, he can't remember being happier.
XxX
Fini.