Happy Birthday, Harry
Harry was pouting. He knew he was, and normally he'd feel a right fool for it, but somehow today it felt justified. He sat in his office, sulking and barking angrily at anyone who disturbed him.
Ruth entered without knocking and closed the door behind her. "Beth has done nothing wrong and does not deserve to be the recipient of your utterly foul mood," she scolded.
He watched her for a moment, an idea percolating in his mind. A very bad idea, to be sure. But once it entered his thoughts, he couldn't help but let it come out of his mouth. "Have dinner with me tonight."
She blinked rapidly, taken aback by his non-sequitur response. "Harry, I don't think we should…" she started in a low tone.
And he knew just what she meant. All they'd been doing lately was snipe at each other. They couldn't agree on anything, couldn't work together without tension. And this was a very different sort of tension. Not the kind that had caused him to ask her to dinner for the first time, all those years ago, but a tension of wanting to rip each other limb from limb. Ever since he'd disastrously proposed marriage to her and she'd flatly and rather unfeelingly rejected him, they hadn't had a moment of that wonderful relationship that he'd so sorely missed. In fact, they were so far from it that Harry had moments of wondering if they'd ever had it at all. But he wasn't ready to give up just yet. He sighed, "Please, Ruth."
She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious as to his motives.
And so he explained, "It's my birthday. And for just one bloody night, I don't want to fight with you. I don't want to be reminded of all we've lost and all we've been through. It's my birthday, Ruth, and I want to spend it with you."
If such a thing were possible at this point, Ruth felt her heart shatter in her chest. After everything they'd been through, Harry had carried on. He'd tried to resign but was persuaded that he was needed just where he was, and so he had gotten a bit angry and a bit lost, but he had stayed strong. He had feared losing her so much that he had broken a glass and slashed Oliver Mace's arm open and risked his own freedom. He had suffered losses of so many of his friends and colleagues but still he had remained in the job. He had sat bound to a chair as she screamed in the most visceral pain imaginable but still he bargained against their captors. Through everything, Harry had stayed strong. He had been her rock and her guidepost all these years, the strength she looked to when she was at her lowest.
But here and now, Ruth saw what she had done to him. Because this, she knew, was her doing. The strongest man she'd ever known, so full of duty and righteous power, had been brought down by her harsh words. All he had ever done was want the best for her, to push her to be better, to fight to protect her, to do the right thing on her behalf. All he had ever done was love her. And Ruth had taken his love and thrown it back in his face, too cowardly to fight for a life with him and too broken to see herself worthy of him. He was absolutely everything to her. And to see him torn down so low, risking his dignity to practically beg her to share a meal with him on his birthday, was more than she could take. Harry deserved to be happy. He deserved a good birthday, and he deserved to have what he wanted. Beyond all odds, it seemed that he wanted her. And so help her, she wanted him, too.
"Just dinner," she eventually replied.
Harry did a good job of schooling his face to hide his surprise. He'd been expecting another cruel rejection. And instead he had a dinner date. He gave a curt nod. "And you can send Beth back in."
About an hour later, Ruth received an email from Harry containing the name of a restaurant and the time. She didn't reply. If she was going to be ready to meet him by seven-thirty, she had work to get on with.
Harry left to go to Whitehall for a meeting with Towers before he could go to dinner. He was somehow still early for the reservation. He took a seat at the bar and waited.
Seven-thirty came and went. At quarter to eight, Harry was nearly ready to go home and drink himself into a sad stupor. But just as he turned to pay his tab and leave, he saw Ruth rushing toward him.
"Lucas tried to drop something on me just as I was leaving and I couldn't escape," she explained.
He grumbled in annoyance. "I didn't think you were coming."
Ruth's ocean-blue eyes turned rather flinty. "I told you I'd come for dinner. Are we really so far gone that you doubt my word?"
"You might have changed your mind. You've done it before."
She looked as though he'd slapped her across the face. "I thought you didn't want to fight?"
Harry just grunted in response.
With a frustrated huff, she suggested, "Tell you what, I'm going to leave and come back in, and you're going to greet me like a man who wants to spend his birthday having dinner with me, alright?"
And with that, Ruth turned and walked out of the restaurant, waited about ten seconds, and came back in. This time, Harry smiled upon seeing her, and she smiled back.
"Good evening, Harry," she greeted.
"It's good to see you, Ruth," he replied sincerely.
In a move that shocked him beyond belief, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Happy birthday," she whispered in his ear.
Harry regained his control and walked with her to be seated at their table. Her idea to restart the evening was a very good one. It was going better already.
Dinner was altogether unremarkable. And that, in itself, was quite remarkable. The conversation flowed rather naturally. They discussed books and music, commented on how Beth and Dimitri were getting on with the team, reminisced about Malcolm and hoped his retirement was treating him well. They steered far away from subjects that might spoil their mood, and everything between them was rather pleasant. It was simple and easy. Their silences were comfortable and understood. Their smiles and chuckles were genuine.
After they'd finished dessert and lingered finishing their wine, Ruth began to worry the edge of the tablecloth. Harry recognized this action from the last time they'd had dinner out at a restaurant together. It was nice to see some of her old habits had stayed with her.
"Something wrong, Ruth?" he asked, knowing that whatever it was would surely ruin the evening anyway. May as well get on with it. Having an entire meal entirely uninterrupted by unpleasantness was certainly too much to hope for.
She was quiet for a long moment. "I did remember, you know. That today's your birthday. I always remembered. The first year I was gone, I wrote you a letter on your birthday. I never sent it, of course. But in a small way, I always think about you on your birthday," she told him. Her eyes were fixed on her fidgeting hands.
"That's good," he replied, not sure what else to say.
Finally, she looked up at him. "I'm glad you wanted to spend your birthday with me."
"There's no other way I'd rather spend it," he told her earnestly. "If I have to get older, I'd like to do it with you."
"Harry…" she warned.
He held up a hand in surrender. "I know, I know. Forget it. We've had a very nice night, and we can leave it at that. I'll pay the check and take you home, if you like."
"It's your birthday, you shouldn't pay for dinner," she protested.
But Harry would hear nothing of it. "I invited you out, your presence was a kind favor to me," he insisted.
After a bit more mild bickering, Harry paid and led Ruth to his car to drive her home. But before he started the engine, she placed a soft hand on his arm. "Harry, do you want to invite me to yours for a nightcap?"
He dropped the keys out of his hand in surprise. "What?"
A teasing hint of a smile graced her lips. "You heard me."
"But I…"
She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "It's your birthday, Harry, and I want to spend it with you."
Having at least enough sense not to second guess her, Harry drove as quick as he could to his home. He stole a few glances at Ruth, who was looking out the window with a serene smile. No fidgeting or worrying in sight. She had made her decision. Against all odds, she wanted this. She wanted him.
Upon parking the car, Harry paused, just in case she changed him mind and wanted him to take her back to her own flat. But she only looked at him with affection shining from her every pore. "Inside?" she asked expectantly.
Harry merely nodded his head rather dumbly. This turn of events was inexplicable. Only a few hours earlier, she had chided him for taking his bad mood out on Beth and then agreed to have dinner with him by insisting on 'just dinner.' This was much more than just dinner. And for the life of him, Harry could not fathom why.
He opened the car door for her. She took his hand and held it while he unlocked the front door and dispensed with the security system. She only let go so they could remove their coats. As soon as their outer layers were dispensed with, Ruth took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. Harry indulged in her kiss, enjoying the beautiful sensation regardless of its origin. It had been so long since he'd kissed her. So long since he'd held her in his arms and felt the way her lips moved over his and tasted her tongue. Hers was his favorite kiss.
When he pulled away to breathe, she began trailing more open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Her hands slid down his shoulders to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt. She was halfway done by the time he shook himself and made her stop. "Ruth, wait." His voice was hoarse with the arousal he was trying to deny.
She looked up at him expectantly.
Harry sighed heavily, hating himself for needing to ask the question. "Why?" He knew he wouldn't need to say anything more. Ruth would understand what he was asking.
"Because I don't want to fight anymore. I want us to be back to where we should be. And all of that comes later, but it's your birthday, Harry, and I want you to enjoy it. I want us to enjoy your birthday together," she told him.
Her heartfelt admission was sufficient to dispel his worries. She wanted this. She knew what she was doing. And he wouldn't doubt her.
Harry pulled her back into a searing kiss, not holding back now. As his tongue surged into her mouth, he walked her toward the stairs. They broke apart and went up to his bedroom, hand in hand. As soon as the bed appeared, Ruth turned her attention back to his half-opened shirt.
Harry let her undress him as he peppered kisses against her jaw and down her throat. The taste of her was sweet and delicious and he couldn't get enough. "I want you," he mumbled against her skin as he moved them closer to the bed, sucking and nipping on the sensitive skin of her neck.
"Yes, Harry," she moaned, arching into his touch. She'd gotten his shirt off and focused for a moment on his ministrations. Harry took the opportunity to pull her soft blouse over her head and unzip her skirt. She was wearing a set of navy cotton knickers and a matching bra. Not the most exciting of undergarments, but Harry was sure he'd never seen anything so erotic as the dark blue against her pale skin.
Rather than focus on his ravenous attentions, Ruth moved on to his belt buckle. She pushed his trousers and trunks down, marveling at his cock so hard and proud. Harry quickly pulled off his shoes and socks before settling them in his bed. But before she joined him under the bedsheets, Ruth took her bra and knickers. Harry stared at her as she got under the sheets of his bed. He moved himself to hover above her, memorizing every inch of her body, praying this wouldn't be the only time he saw it.
"Please," she begged, aching for his touch once more.
Harry settled between her legs, his mouth making wet trails down her neck and chest, paying each of her pert breasts the attention they deserved. His hand continued down, stroking her sex. Her hips moved against his fingers to increase the friction. Harry took a moment to kiss her lips again. She sucked on his tongue, giving him shivers down his spine and a jolt to his groin. He was already so hard for her, twitching to enter her. But not just yet. Harry traced his tongue down her stomach and lifted her thighs to rest on his shoulders as his mouth sucked and licked at her. It was his birthday, and he intended to have a treat.
Ruth was shuddering with climax before she could even adjust to his efforts. It was nearly frightening how body reacted perfectly to his every effort. How she could have ever believed that they couldn't have been more together than they were seemed the biggest joke now.
Finally, Harry couldn't wait any longer to have her. As she recovered from her orgasm, he gave himself a few strokes before lining himself up with her entrance. Ruth lifted her legs to encourage him in. His tip nudged against her already-sensitive flesh. She moaned as he pushed into her, feeling deliciously filled. He started thrusting at a steady pace. Ruth linked her ankles behind his back, pulling him in deeper. It didn't take long for him to lose his self-control. Her fingernails scratched his shoulders and back as she clung to him, riding the wave of passionate pleasure he built up inside her.
Ruth's vision exploded with stars as ecstasy radiated through her body. Everything was so much more vivid and powerful than she'd ever experienced. They finished each other's movements in bed the same way they used to finish each other's sentences on the Grid. They were made for this, she realized, made to fit together in every conceivable way. Never before had sex been so powerful to her body and her heart, but never before had she known a man like she knew Harry and never before had any man known her as Harry did. Harry gave a mighty roar as he came, and Ruth gasped at the incredible sensation of him inside her like that. This was everything. He was everything.
Harry managed to collapse on his back beside her. They lay side by side, slick with sweat and breathing heavily. Ruth rolled over and nuzzled against him. She pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw and murmured, "Happy birthday, Harry."
As Harry fell into slumber, Ruth's body nestled in his arms, he wanted to tell her that he loved her. He wanted to ask her again to marry him. But instead, he just fell asleep.
As Ruth fell into slumber of her wo, safely cocooned in Harry's embrace, she wanted to tell him that she loved him. If he asked her to marry him, she would have said yes. But instead, she just fell asleep.