Make Time

"Nice dinner?" Harry asked when she came by his office that night before heading out, as always.

Ruth closed the door behind her. "Towers offered me a job," she announced, still in a slight state of disbelief.

Harry's head snapped to attention. "He what?"

"And he said he didn't want to be a home-wrecker, taking me away from you."

He frowned. "I don't quite like the terminology, but I suppose it's not entirely inaccurate," he conceded.

Ruth was frowning as well. "I realized something, talking to him. I told him I was tired of secrets. And I am, Harry. I'm so bloody tired. I know I've no right to put that on you, and I never would. All of this with the Gavriks has just gotten under my skin, despite my best efforts, and it's reminded me that as much as I know you, Harry—and I do know you—I'll never know everything about you. And maybe when I was younger and we were just starting out, that was an exciting notion. That there would always be more to learn about you. But now...Harry, I'm just tired."

She saw the way his jaw tightened. She knew this was not the time to have this conversation. She knew there was never a time for this conversation. And that was precisely the problem. That was precisely what kept them drifting along aimlessly like this.

Harry remained quiet, watching her with fire in his eyes, fire of anger and of fear and of horrible sadness. Ruth knew that look very well. She'd caused it many times over. "Goodnight, Harry," she said quietly, turning to leave.

"Ruth," he growled, stopping her. "Ruth, what would you have me do?"

"There's nothing to do," she replied with sad resignation.

"Are you quite sure about that?"

The soft tone of his voice surprised her.

He continued, "There's never any time. For us. For us to figure anything out. There's always something more important we have to deal with. And I'm sorry for that, Ruth, I truly am. You know what I...what I wish we could have."

Ruth shook her head. "But we can't. Like you said, there's never any time." She made her way back out of the office, pausing by the door. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, too. For all of it."

Harry was left alone in his office feeling loss and confusion at a level he hadn't experienced since Ros's funeral, when he'd lost his right hand and he'd tried to reach out to the love of his life, only to have her reject him. Never once had Ruth been so direct about the nature of their relationship, all those frightfully important things they never allowed to have voice. All those things they just knew in their hearts. That he needed her. That she wanted only the best for him. That he wanted to be with her. That she knew their work was more important than their lives. That he would destroy the world to keep her safe. That she never wanted sacrifice on her behalf. That they loved each other with a ferocity that had taken over every facet of themselves for years and years. That they couldn't find a way to have everything, so they settled for nothing, despite the inexorable connection between them forged in fire and tethering them to each other without fail.

And now, with a job offer from the Home Secretary, likely a brilliant offer wholly worthy of her immeasurable skill, Harry could almost feel that thread holding Ruth to him begin to fray. Whatever would he do, if it were to snap? She had left him once before, but now that he had her back, how could he squander this opportunity? How dare he ruin things so thoroughly, now that she was still within reach for however short a time?

Harry stood up from his desk with a start. Without a word or a single other action, he strode out of his office and off the Grid with a singular purpose.

When Ruth arrived home to her little empty flat, the stillness of the silence nearly moved her to tears. It had been nice, for that brief period, to share her space and her life with Beth. She'd been a nice girl, hardened by experience but still young and enthusiastic and full of strong ideals. Ruth had admired her and saw in Beth just a glimmer of her own former self. In a way, it was something to hold onto of that former life. Everyone who knew Ruth before Cotterdam was gone now, either buried or hidden away in a more peaceful life. Only Harry remained.

For Ruth, Harry always remained.

Living alone now, feeling the weight of so much change and so much loss, Ruth found it hard to feel at home. Perhaps she should take the job with Towers. Perhaps that would be a nice change. She'd almost certainly be making better money, and she might even be able to buy herself a small house to call her very own, rather than this spacious but sad flat provided to her by Five as restitution for the circumstances of her return to Britain.

A knock on the door startled her from her thoughts and set her heart to racing. Unexpected guests had that effect on her. She quickly glanced around the room, trying to determine what was in easy reach to use as a weapon, if need be, or to be used as a weapon against her that she'd need to protect herself from.

"Ruth?"

She exhaled in relief. Harry. Though as soon as she relaxed from the knowledge that there was no imminent threat, her heart pounded for an altogether different reason. Why had he come to her? In all the moments before of discussion about their relationship and the lack thereof, he'd never gone so far as to follow her home.

But rather than ponder, she unlocked the door and moved aside to let him in. "It's late, Harry, this isn't the time to…"

"This is exactly the time, Ruth," he snapped, cutting off her preemptive protest of his presence. "We said there wasn't anything to be done, that there wasn't any time for us? I thought about that after you left my office, and I find it unacceptable."

Her brow jumped up her forehead. "You do?" she asked with an air of sarcasm.

"Yes, I do. The only thing is for us to make time. Not waiting for time to be provided to us. Because our lives and our work will never provide for us. You and I know that better than anyone. So rather than waiting for the Russians to be less of a problem or missing the opportunity because you take a job at the Home Office, we need to make the time for ourselves right now."

"Make time for ourselves? Harry, what do you propose we do with this mysterious time we ought to be making?" she asked. Ruth was rather certain she knew, but rather than leave it unspoken, she wanted him to say the words out loud.

"You said you'll never know everything about me? Well, ask me anything, Ruth. I will tell you everything. Absolutely everything. You know my heart, you know my very soul, but if you want details of every relationship I've ever had, all my missions for Five and for Six and back in my army days, my childhood, my brother and my mother and my father and my children? Ask me, and I'll tell you."

The intensity of his gaze and his tone indicated that he was completely serious. He'd probably divulge any state secret she asked of him in that moment, but they both knew that wasn't what they wanted. Ruth's instinct was to push him away, to tell him he was being ridiculous and ask him to leave, to save herself the terrifying intimacy of agreeing to his strange, desperate mood. But deep in her heart, she didn't want to push him away. She only ever wanted him to be closer, despite everything telling her she couldn't have that. No matter what Harry had said to the tribunal, they both knew he couldn't remain completely rational when it came to her. And that truth frightened her more than she could say. She had to be the one to say no, for both their sakes, no matter how much it pained her to do so. But now that they'd suffered the worst the world had to offer them, all for their love of one another, why on earth should she worry now? What real reason did she have to push him away anymore?

Harry watched her thinking, the wheels of her brilliant mind turning in front of his eyes, searching his face as she pondered. When she looked down at her shoes, he knew she'd reached a decision. "Ruth?" he prompted gently.

Her impossibly blue eyes looked back up at him. "You say I know your heart and your soul, but the thing is, I think sometimes you don't think you know mine. And I know you do."

Praying he was reading her correctly, Harry took a step toward her. When she didn't retreat, he placed a soft hand on her arm. "I hope I do know you, Ruth." His voice was barely above a whisper now.

She swallowed hard. "When we thought we'd never see each other again, we left it as something wonderful that was never said. And it never was said. Even now. And I know it's still there, and I want so very much for something wonderful between us. But I think now it should be said. It needs to be said. I love you, Harry, and I…"

"I love you," he interjected quickly. His heart was beating out of his chest as her voice echoed in his mind. I love you, Harry.

The smallest hint of a smile played on her lips. She exhaled in slight disbelief. "I was right, it is something quite wonderful."

Neither of them could say who moved towards whom, which one of them had initiated it, but Harry and Ruth found themselves locked in a passionate embrace. One of his enormous strong hands tangled in her hair, cradling her head, as the other gripped her hip. Her lips moved over his, sucking on those full, pouty lips she adored, moaning into his mouth as his tongue traced hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him ever closer to her.

Harry moved away from her mouth, pressing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. He whispered, "I love you, I love you," over and over into her skin. Now that she'd allowed him to say those words, he found he couldn't stop.

Ruth breathed his name with every exhale, feeling the wave of his affection and ardor crash over her, releasing the pent-up love and desire she'd denied for years and years. She seemed to lose all rational thought, all control over herself. There was only Harry and his touch and the love they shared. As he lavished his attentions on the sensitive spot beneath her ear, she began pushing his coat and his jacket off his shoulders. He unhanded her to let them fall to the floor. She moved on to loosening his tie, though her hands shook too much for her to make much progress.

He paused, smiling at her as he removed his tie. She let her own jacket fall to the floor and with trembling hands, she pulled her blouse off over her head. It was a miracle he didn't pass out on the spot, seeing her body exposed to him after years of dreaming of what she might look like freed from those dark, layered clothes she always wore now.

She could not allow herself to fixate on the way he looked at her, the way his eyes darkened with desire at the sight of her half-naked in front of him. Ruth set to task, unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers and discarding it away. She pulled his vest over his head, leaving him as bare as she was. Her hands traced down his chest as she marveled at the sight of him. All strong and hard and scarred. And he was here with her at last.

Harry pulled her against him, deftly unclasping her bra and pulling it off her before he began kissing her again. His mouth and tongue were insistent and full of the most intense passion she'd ever felt. The very idea that they'd both been able to stave off this level of lust for so long seemed impossible now. The coarse hairs of his chest rubbed against her breasts, causing her to shiver with want of him. His skin was surprisingly soft, pressed up against hers, and hot and impossibly perfect.

Ruth took a step backward, pulling him with her. They stumbled down the hall, leaving half their clothes on the floor of the entryway. She wasn't about to stop kissing him, not even to see where they were going. They bumped into the walls more than once, but their kiss was unbroken. Neither of them stopped until the back of Ruth's knees hit the edge of her bed and she finally let go of him, falling backward onto the mattress.

She was utterly resplendent, her upper body naked, her dark hair mussed and her face pink and smiling. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. "Harry," she begged.

Now, however, now he wanted to take his time with her. He lifted her right leg and pulled her boot off and rolling her sock down. He took a moment to caress her bare calf and kiss her from ankle to knee before turning his attention to her leftleg. Her skirt had ridden up to her thighs, tempting his hands to stroke up her pale, creamy flesh. She lay moaning with want as his fingers reached up under her skirt and found the edge of her knickers around her hips. He pulled them off her, carefully avoiding the place they both knew he'd end up.

With only her skirt remaining, Ruth sat up to unzip it in the back. But rather than allow him to fully undress her then and there, she grabbed hold of his belt and pulled him toward her. Harry toed off his shoes as she pushed his trousers down. He removed them along with his socks before he pulled her skirt off her, leaving her completely bared to him. Still wearing his trunks, he climbed onto the bed to cover her body with his own. Their heated kiss began anew.

Ruth writhed beneath him, feeling every nerve of her body on fire for him. His hands moved over her waist and stomach and found her breasts, teasing every part of her. She pulled out of his kiss and gasped, bucking her hips against him. "Oh god, Harry!"

He trailed wet kisses down neck to her collarbone, tracing it with his tongue, reveling in the wanton way she responded to his attentions. "Ruth," he growled before his lips circled around her nipple, teasing it with his teeth and tongue and then moving on to the other. His hand, meanwhile, had continued the journey down her body to find the dripping wet heat between her legs. The noises she made as he traced her folds were nearly enough to set him over the edge. But he needed to have patience. He needed to take his time, to ensure that he was able to love her as thoroughly as she deserved, as he'd dreamed he would for so long. She was so much more than he had ever fantasized she might be, however, and his resolve was weakening.

Harry pushed inside her with one thick finger, eliciting a throaty moan from her that made his cock twitch against his pants. He added a second finger to curl inside, thrusting into her and rubbing her with his thumb. She practically screamed his name as she came against his hand. He watched her face as he felt her muscles clench over and over against his fingers. She was breathtakingly exquisite in her passion. That look of ecstasy on her face was the most beautiful, erotic thing he'd ever seen, and his heart was filled with his love for her, with his unending need to bring her pleasure.

He removed his hand and couldn't resist kissing her lips once more, already swollen from his relentless attentions. Ruth came down from her high and instantly sought more, reaching to find Harry's shorts, pushing them down and taking his hardness in her hand, stroking his throbbing cock.

Harry pulled away from her for only an instant. She lifted her knees, widening her legs for him to line himself up with her entrance. He groaned as he eased his tip inside her before pulling out, pushing in slightly deeper and out again, repeating until he was finally completely sheathed inside her. Ruth gave a breathy sigh and readjusted her hips to accommodate him. He set a pace for them that she met thrust for thrust. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and crossed her ankles behind his back, pulling him closer and deeper inside her.

"Yes, Harry! Christ, you're incredible," she moaned.

He could barely keep himself from letting go, but he pounded into her until her head flew back and her body shattered around him. That was all it took for him to tumble into ecstasy after her. Harry buried his face against her neck, and Ruth held him tight against her. The weight of his body pressed her down into the bed, but she wouldn't release her hold on him. She couldn't let him go.

"I love you," she whispered, brushing her lips against his shoulder.

Harry eventually returned to reality and climbed off her, slipping out from inside her. He grabbed tissues from her nightstand to clean themselves up in a vain effort to spare stains on the duvet they hadn't thought to pull down. But Ruth wasn't bothered. She took his arm and pulled him back down on the bed so she could snuggle against him, resting her cheek on his chest and curling her arm and leg around him possessively. Harry kissed her hair and stroked his fingers up and down the length of her spine.

Eventually, Ruth felt the edges of reason return to her mind. "Is this what you had in mind when you said we had to make time for ourselves now?"

His chest rumbled as he chuckled. "Not exactly. I assure you this was not my intention when I barged into your flat this evening. But I have never been happier than I am right now with you. And I do hope we can make more time for this in the future."

"The near future," she insisted in reply.

He grinned proudly. "With my age and our jobs, I promise I'll make love to you as often as I can manage and as often as we can make the time. Though if you decide to take the job at the Home Office, you'll probably work much more regular hours."

"Bugger the Home office," she grumbled.

Harry didn't know whether she was purposefully repeating the same words she'd once said to him so many years before. Did she know that was the first moment he realized that he was in danger of falling madly in love with her? Perhaps. Ruth seemed to always know everything. He hoped she knew. If not, he'd tell her. He'd been serious earlier, when he vowed to tell her everything. And now that they'd taken this step, made this time together, he would make she that she did know him and know everything about him.

But now, at the very least, she knew the one thing that mattered above all others. He loved her. And now he knew that she loved him, too.