Tiny one shot. Set somewhere S9, I think.

Ruth scans through the surveillance footage. There must be some clue to the identity of the perpatrators. She searches file after file. Nothing.

She takes a break and heads for the kitchenette, pouring a fresh cup of tea.

She feels him enter the room behind her.

"Want one?" she asks without looking around.

"Please," says a gentle voice.

She doesn't ask what, or how he'd like it. She knows. He says nothing and watches her movements from the doorway.

She turns and hands him the coffee.

"Thanks," he says and walks away.

She returns to the never ending, relentless footage.

On and on.

Face after face.

Hour after hour.

Spooling, spooling, spooling.

And then she stops.

She has found something. Something unexpected. The something she has found is not that for which she was looking, it is herself.

Herself and Harry.

Standing by the river. She spools back and watches from the beginning. She sees his warm greeting, her half smile, their casual conversation as they watch the boats go by.

She rewinds and views it again but this time she is an observer, an analyst, separated, distanced.

They look like a couple.

It surprises her.

What would anyone observe about this man, she wonders? That he was in love with the woman next to him. The way his gaze lingers when she is looking upstream, oblivious to him. The way his eyes soften from the moment he sees her.

And the woman?

She smiles differently when it is to him. She stands a little too close. She blinks often. Her hand hovers close to him but does not touch. She watches as the woman walks away and he looks after her, a small smile on his lips.

And it is all rather obvious. It's not just consideration for her, or guilt, of a need to make amends. He loves her.

And she loves him back. Loves him still.

His office door slides open.

He looks up, that same gentle smile.

"Would you like to go for dinner?" she asks abruptly.

The smile falters, overtaken by surprise.

"Would I…?"

"Like to go to dinner?"

He has recovered himself.

"Yes, Ruth. I'd like that very much."

"Good. Eight o'clock. I'll let you know where."

The door closes.

The edges of his mouth give away the hope, the excitement, the anticipation he feels.

She sits back down and smiles, content to review another week's worth of footage even if she finds nothing.

At least she has refound him.