Ok, well this is going to be a collection of drabbley ficlets. I deleted the old ones here as I didn't like them anymore.
This first one is based on the prompt word 'Overtime', is Harry and Ros centric and contains spoilers for Series 8.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Spooks
Harry wasn't surprised to find Ros still sitting at her desk, hours after everyone else had left the Grid. He sighed quietly to himself before stepping towards her desk.
Ros didn't look up, just remained staring, unblinking at her computer screen. She preferred to ignore him for now, a few more painless seconds, for she knew he would try to initiate conversation soon enough.
Harry could she the marks of exhaustion on her face, the dark lines under her eyes, a stark contrast to her pallid skin. Though the rest of her appearance was as immaculate as ever, sometimes he wondered how she did it.
After a full minute of painful silence on Harry's part, he spoke, the words exactly as Ros had pre-empted.
"Ros, you should go home."
Ros considered this for a full four seconds, before flatly replying with "I can't." Still not looking him in the face.
Harry pulled over a chair and sat opposite her. Ros' blonde hair fell across her face, casting a shadow over her pale skin as she bowed her head slightly, mentally rolling her eyes and preparing herself for the speech that was to come.
"Ros, I know it's been hard since Jo's death…"
Ros closed her eyes and clenched her jaw tightly, exposing the tendons in her neck. She wanted to scream at him why don't you just say since I killed her?
Ros couldn't go home because she couldn't sleep. Each night when she closed her eyes, Jo's face would swim into her head, giving a faint nod before Ros, before she pulled the trigger. The gun shot still rang continuously in ears when she was alone, in the dark and the quiet. Nothing would stop the reverberating sound, the feeling of guilt, or the image of Jo's pretty face as those bright blue eyes faded, as though her very memory was being erased.
But she would never be forgotten, she was burnt into Ros' mind forever, the death of another innocent, but a death at her own hands. Ros would carry that burden forever.
Ros opened her eyes, red-rimed and glistening, meeting Harry's sympathetic ones. She didn't want the sympathy, there was nothing he could do or say that would take the pain away.
Harry saw the guilt and exhaustion reflected there and fought the urge to continue with what he'd been going to say to her. The look in her eyes told him not to and as he opened his mouth, she silenced him.
"Not now Harry." She said in a choked voice. She stood up and walked away to compose herself in the kitchen. Harry didn't see the tears that ran down her taught cheeks as she leant against the counter, but knew they were there as he rose to follow her.
Ros shot him a look of daggers when he appeared in the doorway, taking in the tear tracks and puffy eyes. He simply shrugged it off where other men would have fled, allowing him to cross the boundary in a few swift steps. Ros needed to know that someone cared.
She stared at him in confusion when he brushed the hair away from her face and stroked her cheek lightly with his thumb.
"Ros, I truly am sorry for everything." He whispered and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Ros saw a deep sadness in his face and in that moment she found she could relate to him. She wavered as he turned around and left, leaving her alone once more. Ros brought a hand to the spot Harry had kissed and realised that the ringing in her ears had stopped.