Disclaimer: Spooks belongs to Kudos. If it belonged to me it would probably turn into the Harry and Ruth show, (with a few minor terrorist interuptions.) My first fan fiction...
The door slid open softly. He knew who it was. She was the only person on the grid who never knocked.
"The latest intel." she said, handing him a beige folder."Thank you, Ruth. Beth and Dimitri are alright?" She takes a seat beside him. "Yes, they're fine. It's something else. Harry, it's the Russians again." Harry sighed. It was always the Russians. Except when it was pro life groups and Islamic extremists. Oh, and worldwide conspiracies, corrupt politicians, new world orders, and the FSB. Wait, the FSB was the Russians. Bloody Russians.
Ruth smiled, seeing that he was lost in thoughts. "I received an intercept from GCHQ which mentions a nuclear weapon hidden in a flat overlooking the Thames. The flat belongs to a Mr Vladmir. A nuclear weapon, Harry. In London. I'm sending Lucas to check it out."
Harry shakes his head. "A nuclear weapon? I need someone I can really trust on this. Will you search the flat, Ruth? For me?" She nods reluctantly and walks slowly to the door, sliding it closed behind her as if she is waiting for him to say something.
He hadn't remembered it was her birthday, she thought dejectedly, and now she was being sent out in the field. Why couldn't Lucas go? He was slightly untrustworthy. The other day, she could have sworn he had forgotten his own name. The guards had refused to let him into Thames house when he had told them he was called John East or something. She hated going out in the field. She was a senior analyst, not a field agent. She had only agreed to go because of Harry's brown eyes. She found it hard to refuse him sometimes. Ruth walked out of Thames house, unaware that she was being watched.
"Da. Da. Net. Target leaving building. Da. She is spy. Horosho. Ruth Evershed. We are in position." He put the phone down, and beckoned to his team. Time to take a hostage.
Ruth entered the flat. It was empty, and smelt of fish. Dirty red wallpaper clung desperately to the walls, and a muddy brown carpet lay on the floor. There was no sign of any nuclear weapons. But there was a small box in the middle of the floor. She picked it up carefully, and opened it. Inside was a framed photo of her and Harry. And a birthday card, with an adorable picture of a cat on the front. It read,
Dear Ruth.
I confiscated this photo from Beth Bailey when she spent a briefing taking secret photographs of the team. It's a good one, and I chose the frame especially to match your mantelpiece. I need to tell you something. I'm fed up with pretending. I love you Ruth. Please marry me. There never was a nuclear weapon in the flat. I wanted to give you a birthday that you'd never forget.
Harry
Before she can even begin to contemplate the card, there are footsteps in the flat. And the cold barrel of a gun against her head.
"Mr Pearce. We have your..." He stopped and turned to Ruth. "What is English word for your relationship?" Ruth shrugged. She had often wondered this herself. "your Ruth. To get her back, you give us all the files on Russian agents. You don't do this, she dies. You have two hours." Without waiting for a reply, he hung up the phone.
Ruth was sitting on the flat floor. There were six Russians altogether, three with guns. This certainly wasn't how she'd imagined her birthday. The leader of the Russians moved forwards. Probably to torture her. But to Ruth's surprise, he just smiled, and said, "Hello. I'm terribly sorry for this, but we have taken you hostage. We had no choice. Orders from high up. I'm sure you understand. My name is Vladimir. Please ask me if you need anything."
Ruth couldn't take any more of this craziness. "Its my birthday, and I have been sent out in the field, on a fake op. My boss, whom I have been in love with for years, has just proposed to me again. In a birthday card. My cat has a really bad cold. And I have been captured by some suspiciously friendly Russians." She began to sob uncontrollably.
The Russians watched Ruth awkwardly as Vladimir went to comfort her. "Don't worry, Ruth. There are easy solutions to all your problems. If you love your boss, then why don't you just accept his proposal? Your cat will be fine, we all get colds you know. And we're not at all suspicious. We're just... happy." he said, offended at the mere thought of being seen as suspicious. "Birthdays are happy times!" Ruth realised that the other five Russians had left the flat, and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
"Where are the others gone?" She asked, praying that they weren't going to torture her. Vladmir said nothing and, pulling out a blindfold from his pocket, slipped it over her head. She heard the key turn in the lock, and footsteps, as the five Russians entered the flat. They fiddled around with something for a few minutes, which Ruth took as a bad sign. Then her blindfold was removed, and she saw a beautiful birthday cake in the shape of a cat. The Russians began to sing in Russian, and Ruth recognised the words "Happy birthday" in there. What kind of hostage takers were these people?
Meanwhile, the Grid was buzzing with activity. Harry had decided to hand over the files to save Ruth. He wasn't about to let her go without a fight. It was typical of Ruth to get captured by Russians the moment she left the Grid, he thought grumpily. He was packing boxes full of the files the Russians wanted in return for Ruth. He would probably be fired, but who cared. He would do anything to save her. When all the files were there, he began to load the boxes into a cab outside, hoping nobody would ask him what he was going to do. There was only half an hour left until the Russians killed Ruth. They were heartless, ruthless and evil, the lot of them.
"Here, have some more cake, Ruth." It was delicious sponge with jam and cream, and smooth, white icing. Ruth decided that her escape plan just might work as she took another slice. "Vladmir, I feel really sick. I need some fresh air, or I'm going to throw up." As she'd hoped, he opened the window for her, a kind, sympathetic look on his face. Quickly, Ruth walked over to it, and before the Russians could stop her, she had climbed out onto the ledge surrounding the flat.
It was a very long way down, Ruth thought nervously, as she took small steps forward. There was a window in the hallway between the flats, and this was what she climbed through. Then, sprinting as fast as she could, she ran to the stairs and began her descent. She was not a field agent. Why did she always end up in such strange situations?
At the bottom of the stairs, Ruth saw Harry pull up in a taxi laden with boxes. She ran over to it, and, opening the door, flung herself in. "Drive!" she said, and the taxi sped away, just as the Russians spilled out onto the pavement behind. A thousand questions buzzed in Ruth's mind, and she was about to begin asking them when Harry unexpectedly enveloped her in a large warm hug. "I hope you got a chance to think about my second proposal, although the timing was, once again, disastrous." he whispered into her ear.
What was it Vladmir had said? "Birthdays are happy times." Saying no again would mean even more tension, and loneliness. And she loved him more than anything. She answered quietly, and watched his face crinkle with happiness. There would be time for questions later.
The office door slid open and Ruth entered, sitting gently on the sofa. Harry joined her. It was the day after Ruth's birthday. "Did you find out what those weird Russians were doing? They spoke very good English to me, but not when they were talking to you. They were also suspiciously nice and friendly." Harry smiled. As usual, Ruth had known that something was wrong straight away. "Well, you know they were asking for the files of all the Russian agents? When you first told us that they spoke good English, we went back over the files to see if there could be another reason for wanting the files."
"Was there one?" asked Ruth impatiently. Harry nodded, "Buried deep in the boxes of files was a photograph. We ran it through face recognition, and found that it was none other than Mr Frederick Jones." Ruth gasped. "The politician? They're saying he's next in line to be the Home Secretary, if he plays his cards right." "Yes, that's the one. I paid him a visit, and asked why his photo was in a box full of files on Russian spies. It transpired that he had spent almost twenty years as a Russian spy. He wanted the files so he could make sure that nobody ever found out."
"What are you going to do with him?" asked Ruth. "Enough questions." Harry replied, softly kissing her neck. "Harry! We're on the grid, remember!" "They all know we're engaged now. Anyway, as Beth and Dimitri are undercover right now, Lucas is making a drop in Surrey, and Tariq is engrossed in some computer game, I don't suppose anyone will notice." Ruth kissed him back, blissfully unaware of the CCTV camera that Beth had hidden in Harry's office to try and record any intimate moments that the pair might have. "Has Fidget still got a cold?" asked Harry quietly. "No, it's gone now. He's fine." Ruth replied, leaning her head on his chest. "And you're happy?"
"I've never been happier." she said truthfully.