A one shot taken from the end of series ten. (But with a bit more hope than what was shown on screen!)
The shard of glass tore through her flesh and she suddenly felt weak. She collapsed without even thinking about it and Harry loomed over her, his face full of concern a further sign that this was a serious injury. "You're all right," he said quietly as his hand pressed against the wound hard. She gasped as the pressure hurt her. "You're going to be all right." Ruth could hear people moving in the distance but it seemed very unimportant. Harry was here with her, and that was the main thing. Even in dire circumstances.
"It hurts to breathe," she said.
"Keep talking to me," Harry said, his face still worried. "I need to keep you awake."
"I don't intend on going anywhere," she said, a tiny smile on her face. "Is help coming?"
"Yeah they're on their way," Harry said, reassuringly. Ruth nodded and then closed her eyes. "No!" Harry shouted at her. "Look at me. After all this time you can't die on me. Not now. We're so close to being together, the way we should have been years ago."
"I'm just so tired," she said in between ragged breaths. Her eyes opened a little and she looked at him. "Harry, I want what I just asked you. Not more than five minutes ago. That life with you that I've dreamed of. I want that. I'm not going to die if I can help it." A pause as Harry smiled at her. "How serious is it? Don't lie."
"Its bad," Harry said. "Its not going to kill you though, I promise."
"Good," Ruth said. "I'm not sure I believe you but good." With his free hand he stroked her hair away from her face, the strands blown by the wind.
"Ruth… I…"
"No," she said. "Don't say it." Her hand reached for him and stroked his cold cheek gently. "Give me something to recover for. Because I've waited a long time to hear you say that. So, not now. Tell me when this is just a bad memory."
"Okay," he agreed. "I promise. When you're well." She smiled and nodded. She let out one heavy breath and closed her eyes again. "It won't be long, stay with me."
"I'm here," she said, her voice weaker than ever. "Don't worry. I'll be okay." Harry wasn't sure whether he believed this or not but instead of focusing on that he kissed her. Soft and brief. A plea to her to stay in this world. She responded, not much but the movement was there. The silence of the field where she lay was broken by the noise of the helicopter coming to land. She'd nearly made it.
"Not much longer Ruth," Harry whispered. "Just hang on."
And she did.
Harry awoke with a start. That was not a pleasant day to relive, no matter how long ago it had happened. No matter that, in the end, that day had bought them together. It had been far too close a call and he had so very nearly lost her. "But you didn't," he said to himself. He looked to his right and smiled at his wife. She was still sleeping and he was glad that her dreams at least seemed to be trouble free. He ached and longed to touch her but he didn't dare because he knew she'd wake. Past experience told him that. So he contented himself to watching her, putting his glasses on so he could see more clearly.
Her dark hair had almost completely gone now, faded to grey. She had more lines on her face now than when he'd met her. When Ruth had come into the meeting room spilling files all over the floor and she'd caught his eye in more ways than one. He smiled at the memory. Almost thirty years ago now, and to him she was still as beautiful as that first day he ever saw her. Probably more so since she'd chosen to share her life with his. The most pronounced signs of her age were the wrinkles around her eyes which she referred to as her "laughter lines." Her face may have changed in the last twenty years, but her eyes (when open) were still as they ever had been. A beautiful bright blue, shrewd and intelligent. And when she looked at Harry, her eyes still shone with a deep and honest love for him. It amazed him that in twenty years, no it was longer than that if he was being honest, she still loved him with such a fierce intensity.
Harry knew without a shadow of a doubt that he did not deserve her. After all the terrible things he'd done in the service he did not deserve to be this happy. But as he had had a second chance, he wasn't about to throw it away or wonder why he'd been this lucky. He felt his stomach growl and he got up to make some breakfast. Before he left the bedroom he touched a strand of her hair very lightly. Not enough to wake her. Smiling he went downstairs.
He picked up the days paper, on the now worn carpet of the hall before he put some bread in the toaster. Glancing at the headline, he made up a tray to take upstairs for both of their breakfast. A habit they'd indulged in for more than a decade. Whoever woke up first brought breakfast upstairs where they enjoyed an hour or so in each others company, vilifying the politicians of the moment. It was a very enjoyable way to start the day.
While the kettle boiled Harry looked at several drawings and photographs on the fridge. Of himself, Ruth and his five granddaughters. Ruth and himself hadn't been blessed with a child. They had tried soon after she had been discharged from hospital after the stab wound to her lung. After she'd healed. But nothing had ever happened. Neither of them were too upset by this, even though it would have been good news to have a child in their lives. After their time on the grid they were too involved and entwined with each other to be too upset by the lack of a demanding and screaming baby. For at least the first two years since they left MI5, they had behaved like horny teenagers. Harry smiled now to think on it. That had certainly been an entertaining time of his life!
The toast popped up and Harry stopped looking at Emily's first scribble to grandpa and put the butter and the toast on the tray, along with the tea. Going upstairs he smiled as he saw Ruth turn over and her eyes flicker open. "Morning," he said, kissing her briefly as he got back in bed.
"Mm, morning," she replied, taking her tea and opening the paper. After a couple of minutes she cast it aside and looked at Harry. "I need to talk to you."
"Mm?"
"I need to persuade you about something." She bit her lip and Harry was privately amused by this. But he was careful not to let it show. Instead he took a bite of toast and raised his eyebrow at her. "Catherine called me. She… I wondered if I could… we could have a proper Christmas dinner with all the family."
"We're barely in November," Harry said. "You want to talk about this now?"
"Yes," Ruth said firmly. "Catherine seems to be having a tough time. Lucy's fifteen and with all the chaos that goes with a teenage girl. And she has ten year old twins who cause total mayhem wherever they go. You know they do."
"Yes I do," he said fervently. "Chloe and Sophie are troublemakers and no mistake. God forbid any boy who takes a fancy to one or other of them in a few years time. They will run rings around the poor lad." Ruth chuckled because it was absolutely true and they both knew it.
"Well, Jane usually has them over for Christmas. Had, I should say," Harry said slightly sadly. He grieved for his children's loss, not of his own when his first wife had died earlier in the year. "Did Cate ask?"
"She wanted to know because she doesn't want to cook Christmas dinner," Ruth said. "But we've never had the whole family all together. Not since Paige was born. I'd like to have everyone over." Harry thought for a moment. It was true that the whole family hadn't been together since Graham's youngest daughter was born. And if Ruth wanted to cook Christmas dinner then of course she could. Only one thing was bothering him.
"But what about…"
"I know," Ruth interrupted. "We'd have to put off our trip to Spain."
Ruth, your lung…"
"I'll be fine," she said firmly. As long as I wrap up warm and don't go outside often it won't matter." When she'd been stabbed a portion of her lung had had to be removed. It meant that breathing in cold weather was painful, so usually for the winter they went to their house in Spain for the warmth, coming back in about February when the weather was warming up slightly. They had never seen the grandchildren at Christmas.
"If you're sure you could manage..." Harry said.
"Just think of how entertaining it would be for you to warm me up over the winter," Ruth teased. Harry kissed her neck for a moment before returning to the conversation. "It'll be fun," she said, smiling. "Having all the girls here."
"Have you spoken to Graham?"
"No, but Catherine seemed to be under the impression that Graham would be quite keen."
"Really?"
"Yes," Ruth said. "I feel… special you know," she added. "For what I have. They all call me grandma. And that's something I never thought I'd have in my life."
"They love you," Harry said. "Even Emily who insists on calling you grandma Ruff." Ruth laughed happily.
"She can say Ruth, she just won't," Ruth said. "Insists on being the baby of the family."
"Paige might be taking that title now," Harry said. Ruth smiled into her tea for a moment. "Anyway, I thought we could go to Venice this winter."
"Really, why?" Ruth asked curiously.
"I've been feeling nostalgic," he said honestly. "I want to go back to the place where I proposed to you. How do you feel about Italy?"
"I loved Venice," she said. "A very special city for us. I never thought you'd propose again. You waited more than five years!"
"Well you did say no twice," Harry defended himself. "Can ruin a mans ego, that."
"You proposed at a funeral!" Ruth said. They'd had this argument many times in the last two decades.
"And what was wrong with Paris may I ask?"
"I was recovering from lung surgery," Ruth said. "I don't think proposing to me then was the right thing to do Harry. Which is why I didn't say yes. It was too quick. We'd never even slept together! What if it had been awful?"
"You cheeky little minx!" Harry shouted. He rolled over and pinned her to the bed as she laughed.
"I'd enjoy Venice," she said when the laughter faded away, Harry still pinioning her to the bed. "It would be good to go back there. Ride a gondola again. Under the stars."
"So Christmas here and then Italy in January? Make a stop in Rome maybe?" Harry asked. Ruth nodded happily as he leaned in to kiss her deeply. When they stopped Harry suddenly groaned. "I've just realised that on Christmas day I'm going to be drowning in a sea of women. You, Catherine and five granddaughters? Couldn't one of them have had a boy, just to even out the numbers a little?" Ruth laughed again, marvelling that she could be this happy.
"I'll whisk you off to Venice then," Harry said easily. "After we spoil all of our granddaughters."
"That sounds… perfect." She ran her fingers through his hair leisurely as Harry smiled in agreement, kissed her once more before returning to his tea. Ruth picked up the discarded paper and handed Harry the sport section. There'd be a couple of cricket matches he'd want to read the report on. So she stayed quiet as he caught up on the score. She was so happy and she looked at her wedding ring for a long moment and then took another bit of toast.
Life was good.