Reflections in the Dark
Disclaimer: Spooks belongs to Kudos and the BBC. Still.
A/N: Not a lot of time for writing these days but here's something inspired by the recent(ish) wet weather in the UK. Post 10.6, AU, fluffy with plot-less spells and the odd made-up medical fact.
Friday – 11.23 p.m.
Harry was rarely envious of police officers but this evening he was coveting the heavy duty waterproofs and thick soled boots of the group standing a few feet from him. The expensive raincoat he was wearing was proving no match for either the torrential rain or the strong Easterly wind. His shoes had long since given up keeping the water out and his feet were frozen. More rain trickled down the back of his neck, soaking into his shirt and he flexed his shoulders, trying to shift the damp material away from his skin. It was pointless.
One of the policemen moved away from his colleagues and came and stood next to Harry. "Target's on his way back," he said.
"ETA?"
"Three minutes." The tall, young Inspector looked up into the night sky, apparently unperturbed as heavy raindrops spattered his face. "Locals aren't deterred by this. Plus he's on a promise - got a girl with him."
"Do we know her?"
"Nope. She's a new face."
Shit.
New faces were always problematic.
"So, we grab him as the car pulls up?" the policeman asked, uncertainty clinging to every word.
Harry quelled the urge to snap at him. The officer was newly promoted and looked about fifteen, and this was a big arrest. Harry could still remember how that felt; confident when on your own or with your peers, full of self-doubt in the company of someone considerably more experienced. He took pity on the younger man.
"Might be better to wait until he's inside the flat. With luck, he'll be too busy concentrating on getting his leg over."
"Good point," the Inspector said, and then raised his hand to his earpiece. "We need to get into position."
Harry felt his stomach clench, the familiar rush of adrenalin making him feel twitchy. The excitement had gone from this type of situation; these days anticipation was replaced by dread. And this was the first time he'd been in the field during an operation since-
He cut the thought off. He needed to focus on now, this moment.
Harry moved further into the shadows, shielded from obvious view by a painter and decorator's van. The sound of a car engine became more noticeable above the rain and an Impreza with a dented nearside door rounded the corner, tyres straining for grip on the sodden tarmac.
It was over remarkably quickly.
-x-x-x-
Five weeks earlier.
"Sir, sir."
The insistent voice by his ear was accompanied by a firm hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake.
"Mmm? What? What is it?" Harry asked, throat thick with sleep.
"Miss Watts sent me to get you. I'm sorry, sir, you're needed back on the Grid."
Harry blinked several times to try to clear his vision. He recognised his unexpected visitor but his exhaustion clogged brain was struggling to provide the correct name. Andrew? Anthony? Adrian, that was it.
"OK, Adrian. Just give me a minute, please?"
The other man nodded and quietly left the room.
Harry looked at the woman lying in the hospital bed in front of him, her skin rendered almost translucent by the unforgiving lighting of the room.
"I have to go, Ruth, some sort of emergency but I'll be back soon." He leant over her and kissed her cheek. "I promise."
-x-
Harry sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He could feel the beginnings of a headache and he had no idea whether it was night or day. They'd spent hours chasing a suspected terrorist cell, finally catching up with them in a squalid flat above a kebab shop in Dalston. Raiding the place had been a logistical nightmare with CO19 officers having to sneak through the backyards of several neighbouring properties, dodging dustbins, sacks of rubble and a lot of rats. They'd almost been caught when a surprisingly vigilant tenant of one of the other flats had spotted them climbing over a wall and dialled 999. Luckily, the local plod had been on the ball and not turned up, sirens wailing. The forensics team were now picking through the detritus of the flat while the suspects, two men and a woman, were experiencing the unique atmosphere of the Thames House holding cells. Their initial interrogation was complete and questioning would continue in the morning, or later, or whenever.
Christ he was tired. He needed sleep, and food, but most of all he needed to see Ruth again. She'd been unconscious for four days and he'd sat with her the whole time, only leaving when the nurses wanted to attend to her or insisted he get something to eat. He had never strayed far from her though. Finally, she had begun to come round but it was slow progress and her initial distress and confusion over events had been difficult to witness. But he had stayed with her, quietly reassuring her, and she had calmed. Now, he just wanted to go and sit with her, and to hell with everything else.
-x-
Over the years, Harry had spent a fair amount of time in hospitals. He'd even had a brief stint undercover as a porter, early on in his MI5 career, which had proved to be something of an education. And not just in the ways of the medical profession. He had also learnt that he was a terrible patient and wasn't getting any better at it. That had been proved just over an hour ago when he'd been faced with Dr Sally Chapman, the MI5 Chief Medical Officer, lecturing him about neglecting his health.
She had a point, one which Harry had generously provided evidence to support by collapsing in his office. He'd regained consciousness, vaguely aware of someone – Erin, he'd later realised - holding his hand, and hers and Dimitri's anxious faces looming over him. Rather than questioning why he was lying on the floor, he had voiced the opinion that they were both looking older than their years. He'd apparently been forgiven though, as both of them stayed with him until help arrived, in the shape of Dr Chapman. She had given him a cursory examination and decided hospitalisation was required. Despite his protests, he'd been placed on a stretcher and wheeled off to St Thomas', where he was now incarcerated. How long he was going to be there was, as far as he'd been able to find out, up to the attractive, but exasperating Service doctor. To add insult to injury, he was also confined to bed for 'at least another two days.'
Harry shuffled about, trying to get more comfortable, which wasn't easy as he was still attached to a saline drip. At least the heart monitor had been removed so he didn't feel quite as restricted as he had. After fidgeting around for a little while longer, he finally settled. He was just slipping into a gentle doze when the door opened.
"Harry?" William Towers cleared his throat and tried again. "Harry? I'm not disturbing you am I?"
Trying not to look too pissed off, Harry sat up. "No, not at all, Home Secretary."
Towers moved further into the room. "So, how are you?"
"Better, thank you. Although the CMO has got it into her head I need to stay here for the foreseeable future."
"Ah, the lovely Dr Chapman. She who must be obeyed," the Home Secretary said, eyes twinkling mischievously. "It's a brave man who defies her."
"Yes, well," Harry muttered. "We got the Dalston cell," he added, keen to change the subject.
"So I understand. And Miss Watts informs me they're all being particularly talkative."
Harry nodded. "The preliminary checks are showing that it's good information."
Towers fidgeted with one of his shirt cuffs. "I, er, I popped in to see Miss Evershed yesterday, seeing as you're indisposed. She's making a steady recovery."
"Thank you."
"I can't help but think the world would be a much poorer place without Ruth in it," the Home Secretary said, turning to look out of the window across the river towards Parliament.
"I know it would be," Harry replied.
They were both silent for a while, the quiet of the room occasionally punctuated by footsteps in the corridor outside and the muffled sound of traffic on Westminster Bridge.
"You're not coming back are you?" Towers asked.
"I'm not sure my position is tenable any more."
"That's bollocks, Harry, and you know it. If you really want to stay, we can sort things out. Even with the Cousins."
He moved nearer the bed and stood, hands pushed into his trouser pockets, studying Harry.
"Russians running around London masquerading as CIA agents and the Americans didn't have the first clue. Then demanding the extradition of a senior British intelligence officer. They haven't exactly covered themselves in glory."
Harry looked as if he was going to interrupt but Towers held his hand up.
"The offer's there, if you want it. But I rather think your future plans involve Miss Evershed, don't they? I can't say I blame you either."
"I don't know if her plans still involve me," Harry replied.
"Then you should ask her."
"I will."
"Just make sure you do," Towers smiled. "Before someone else makes her a better offer."
-x-
It was ironic, thought Harry as the door banged open, that his attempts to follow doctor's orders and rest were being thwarted by the hospital staff. He was tempted to ignore whoever it was blundering into his room and pretend to be asleep. The blunderer, however, had other plans.
"Wakey wakey, Harry, special visitor for you," said Calum.
Sighing heavily, Harry sat up. "If this is your idea of a joke, you're fired."
"The usual form of greeting is 'hello, how lovely to see you'," remarked Calum, pushing a wheelchair up to the side of the bed. "Seriously, Ruth, you need to train him better."
Ruth.
Harry stared at her, not quite believing what he was seeing. Ruth, in a wheelchair, in his room. By his bed. Her skin was pale and a small oxygen mask covered her mouth but it didn't quite hide her smile.
"Ruth. What are you…I mean…it is lovely to see you but…shouldn't you be resting?"
As she tugged the plastic mask down he saw she still had a cannula attached to the back of her left hand. A clear tube ran from it to an IV bag hooked onto the back of the wheelchair.
"Hello," she said. "I thought I'd come and check up on you."
Harry smiled and then shook his head. "I can't believe you're here."
They sat looking at each other, oblivious to Calum's presence. Until he decided to remind them he was still there.
"Nice PJs, Harry. Very…blue."
"Blame Erin. She bought them."
"Oh yeah. She mentioned something about not being able to find any Thomas the Tank Engine ones in your size."
Harry scowled at Calum and Ruth held the oxygen mask up to her face to cover her amusement.
"Don't you have anything better to do?" asked Harry, continuing to glare at his young officer.
For once, and probably the only time, Calum decided that discretion really was the better part of valour. Not to mention that Harry looked like he might just choke him to death with an IV line.
"Right, I'll leave you to it and go and rescue the nurses from the Admiral's cheesy chat-up lines. Don't go getting up to any hanky-panky while I'm gone."
Harry watched him leave and then turned his attention back to Ruth.
"It is good to see you but you really-"
"Don't you dare tell me I shouldn't be here!" she said, angrily. "You didn't come back to the hospital. You'd been every day so I knew something was wrong, and then Calum turned up."
She stopped talking and pressed the plastic mask against her mouth, inhaling deeply several times.
"You stupid man!"
"You seem to be making a habit of calling me that," Harry quipped, trying to lighten the mood.
"It's a term of endearment. Like 'mule'."
"Ah, I see."
She smiled briefly but then looked more serious.
"I was so worried. I thought…I thought…"
Her eyes filled with tears and it propelled Harry into action. He got out of bed and shuffled round to where Ruth was, wheeling the IV stand with him.
"Hey, it's all right," he said, gently taking her hand in his. "I'm OK, really. Come on, don't cry."
Ruth sniffed and wiped the sleeve of her dressing gown over her face. "I'm not crying."
"Of course not." Harry leant forward and kissed her cheek. "I've missed you."
"Now you're trying to change the subject."
"No I'm not. I have missed you."
She curled her fingers more tightly around his. "Why are you here?" she asked. "Is it serious? Calum said you collapsed on the Grid."
"It's nothing, really," Harry began then changed his mind when he saw the familiar set of Ruth's mouth. He was going to be in trouble if he didn't tell her the truth. "I did collapse. The verdict was dehydration coupled with exhaustion. My blood pressure was a bit on the high side, too."
"A bit?"
"OK, a fair bit. I've been prescribed bed rest and I'm at the mercy of Dr Sally Bloody Chapman."
The last comment provoked a laugh from Ruth, which turned into a wheezy cough. Harry diplomatically remained quiet as she took several long breaths from the oxygen supply.
"Look at the state of the pair of us," he said, as she pulled the mask away from her mouth.
"At least you have pyjamas. I'm still wearing a horrible hospital gown. It gapes at the back and you can end up flashing your bottom to all and sundry."
"Really?" Harry said, eyes gleaming. "You'll have to give me a demonstration."
Ruth tutted and shook her head at him. "Dreadful man."
"I might be dreadful but you're beautiful," he said, and then kissed her cheek again.
"Harry, I've had major surgery, I feel like tuppence worth of God-help-me and I haven't washed my hair since…far too long ago."
"You are beautiful. Mule. And I'm glad you're here."
"I'm glad I'm here, too," she replied.
"So, are you going to tell me how you managed to persuade the doctors to let you go gadding about?"
"It was a clandestine op, Harry. Calum sneaked me out when the nurses weren't looking and Dimitri borrowed an ambulance and blues and two'd it all the way."
"Funny. Anyway, talking of those two, what are they up to? They should be on the Grid, saving the nation."
"They're trying to arrange for me to be transferred here so I can be with you," Ruth said. "They're on a charm offensive with the medical staff."
"Hah! Let me guess - Dimitri's charm and Calum's offensive."
"Harry!"
He laughed. "As long as they get us adjoining beds."
"Adjoining rooms, perhaps."
"I'll settle for that." He gently squeezed her hand. "Have you thought about what you want to do. When you leave hospital."
"Yes," she smiled. "I have."
-x-x-x-
Saturday 1.44 a.m.
Harry quietly closed the front door and locked it. He hadn't been in the car long enough to dry out and his soaked clothes felt heavy and uncomfortable. He took his shoes and socks off and retrieved a newspaper from the recycling pile under the stairs. After stuffing sheets of the paper into his shoes, he stripped down to his underpants and hung the rest of his clothes over the newel post.
He padded up the stairs, successfully avoiding the particularly squeaky tread, and headed towards the bedroom. The door was ajar but the room was in darkness. He didn't turn the light on but found the bedside table by touch and deposited his wallet, keys, watch and phone on it.
In the bathroom, he turned the shower on and got a clean towel out of the airing cupboard. As he turned round to hang the towel on the rail, he took a sudden step back.
"Christ, Ruth, you frightened the life out of me. I thought you were asleep."
"I can't sleep when you're not here." She moved further into the room. "I thought you'd be back sooner."
"Sorry. They wanted me to stay while they searched the suspect's house."
"Were there any problems?"
"No, it all went to plan. Well, apart from me getting soaked to the skin."
He watched her as she assessed him, checking there were no new bruises or marks that might reveal things hadn't gone as well as he'd said. As she looked at him, her left hand moved to her side, coming to rest on where he knew her scar was. The thought of what had happened to her made his blood run cold.
"Harry…we agreed, no more dwelling on the past," she said, drawing his focus back to her face.
"I thought I'd lost you, Ruth."
"I know," she replied, softly. "And I thought I'd lost you. Twice in ten days."
He reached for her, pulling her against him.
"Harry! You're frozen." She wriggled in his arms and he reluctantly let go. "Have your shower and then come to bed." She kissed him, briefly. "Don't take too long."
-x-
Warmed from his shower, Harry got into bed, anxious to have Ruth back in his arms. She instinctively reached for him, snuggling into him as his arms went around her.
"Mmm," she said, "you're like a human bolster pillow."
"Thanks for that. Glad to know I have my uses."
"You are a very useful man, Harry." She shifted against him, getting more comfortable. "And very naked."
"Is that a problem?"
"No. It's just that I didn't know you liked to sleep naked."
"I can put something on if you want but it seems a shame to move now you're settled."
"Oh, very smooth, Sir Harry."
"It has been said."
Ruth was quiet for a minute or two before speaking again. "Were you really needed this evening, Harry?"
"No offence taken," he replied dryly. "I think it's just a bit of a novelty having a semi-retired spook on hand."
"Probably. Trust me though to buy a house with a wannabe terrorist living a couple of miles down the road."
Harry laughed, softly. "Emphasis on the wannabe. He hadn't got very far."
"But still-"
"If it'll make you feel better, I'll get Calum to run another security check on the neighbours. Five mile radius this time."
"I could do that."
"You're still recuperating."
"And you're supposed to be retired."
"Semi-retired."
"I know you've retired, Harry. Towers told me."
"Did he now? And when did you speak to him?"
"He phoned this evening when you were out. I thought he was going to ask me to persuade you to stay on."
"But he didn't?"
"No," Ruth replied, sleepily. "I told him you were all mine now so you couldn't go back."
"How very possessive," Harry said, placing a gentle kiss on the top of Ruth's head.
"Not really. I also told him I wasn't going back either because I'm all yours."
"What did he say?"
"He wished us well. Said if we ever needed his help with anything, we just had to ask."
"So that's that," said Harry. "You and me, together."
"Mmm," replied Ruth, almost asleep. "Together."
Just as it should be.
The End
Thanks for reading. :)