Title: Sentimental Mood
Author: Cath
Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me. Still.
Summary: She sits in her office and re-reads the wedding invitation. RH. Ficlet.
Notes: Flashback is indicated by italics. Hopefully it's not too difficult to read. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.
Also, huge thanks to Laurie M for her help with this fic and for providing the title – which is taken from a track by St. Germain.
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She sits in her office and re-reads the wedding invitation. She received it a couple of days ago now and was surprised by her reaction to it. It has been years since there has been anything between them and still it created a feeling of something that she cannot quite pin point: nostalgia, perhaps? It has forced her into a mood of contemplativeness that she wishes would pass. She knows that she ought to respond but as yet she cannot commit herself to either accept or decline.
It is their first meeting that she keeps remembering mostly; a job that she had wanted more than anything else. His reputation had been fearsome and she had felt nervous – something she had tried to conceal. Overcompensated in that attempt, perhaps – and so had set the pattern for the rest of their relationship from the start.
Her assistant, Emily, enters without knocking. "I've got the files you wanted, and as Kinsella is still computer-illiterate, I have a written copy of all the names and some other information for the conference. Do you want me to type it up and e-mail it to you?"
Deep in thought, Emily's question goes unanswered.
"What's that?" Emily asks after a pause, noting her preoccupation.
Eventually the words break through her reverie and she hands the invitation over.
"Is this the reason you've been somewhat distant the last few days? Who's Harry?"
"Someone I was in love with a long time ago. I…. It didn't work out," she replies. She has worked with Emily a few years and considers her as good a friend as anyone else.
"And now? Are you still in love with him?" Emily asks.
She gives a brief smile. "A part of me will probably always be a little bit in love with him," she admits. For a long time she had barely admitted it to herself - she had never told him at all. Perhaps she should have. Maybe it would have made a difference. Somehow it's easier to say it now, all this time later. To tell someone who is close to her, but not too close.
Emily smiles sympathetically. "I remember when my ex-husband got re-married. It didn't matter that we'd been divorced for years, it still threw me." Emily gives back the invitation, and she puts it down on her desk.
"It's funny, I saw him for the first time in years a few months ago. It was a shock to see him after all that time." She doesn't usually talk about anything beyond work and Emily knows better than to interrupt. "He was surprised to see me, I think; he wasn't entirely sure what to say. He looked different. He seemed… happy. More relaxed."
"Harry?" she calls out to him and she wonders if he might just have walked past if she hadn't said anything.
He smiles at her; it is not sincere, and she can tell that he is using it to mask his surprise. Only someone who knows him well – as she once did – would be able to distinguish the subtle difference.
He glances briefly at his watch, a signal that he has other places to be.
And she comes to realise her potential mistake in not letting him walk past – too much history and years of separation stand between them like walls of glass that cannot be transcended.
"How are you?" he asks eventually. A question of politeness or a sincere enquiry, she wonders.
"Good," she responds, deciding that sharing the minutiae of her life would not be the correct action. "And yourself?"
"Good," he replies.
There is a silence.
"How is your fiancée?" she asks him.
He looks puzzled. "How did you…?"
She smiles mysteriously. "I may no longer work in the intelligence industry, Harry, but I still have my sources."
He laughs and finally the mask softens into sincerity. "She's fine. I'm still not entirely sure how I convinced her to agree to marry me." He glances again at his watch. "Actually, I'm due to meet her in a few minutes."
"She's a lucky woman," she replies and her attempt at a sincere comment sounds more like melancholy. "Do you want to go for coffee?" she asks, the words escaping, unchecked, from her mouth. She regrets them the minute they are out.
"I can't. Ruth…" he starts.
"Go find your fiancée," she interrupts. "Tell her hello from me."
"It's been good to see you again," he says. He leans in quickly, kisses her on the cheek: a friendly gesture.
She smiles. "You too, Harry." She watches him walk away. Retirement from the service has agreed with him: she knows of this, too, from her sources. He looks younger than when she last saw him, as if he discarded some of his years along with the stress and pressure of MI-5. She suspects, too, that finally finding happiness has de-aged him.
And for a moment, she is envious that he has found happiness with someone else.
"I should get working on with these files," she says, indicating the end of their conversation with a wave of her hand in the general direction of the mounting paperwork.
"I'll type up the information from Kinsella," Emily offers as she turns to leave.
"Thanks, Emily."
She starts to look at the files, but still she cannot concentrate. She puts the files to one side and picks up the wedding invitation.
She does nothing for a while as she loses herself in thought.She thinks briefly of what could have been, but pushes the thoughts out of her head; they are pointless – too many years have passed. Realistically, she knows that it is not Harry that she wants, but companionship, love, happiness. She is tired of loneliness, but living in the past provides no pleasure; it is futile. She makes a conscious decision to move on.
She gets out stationery and a pen and starts to write.
Dearest Harry,
Thank you for the invitation, but unfortunately I am abroad on business that week and will be unable to make it.
Pass on my regards to Ruth, I sincerely wish you both the very best for the future.
Kind regards,
Juliet.
She folds the paper and places it in an envelope. After writing the address, she puts it in her out tray.
She knows that whatever there once was between herself and Harry is in the past and was not meant to be. She hopes he'll be happy.
She puts the invitation in a drawer, out of sight, and gets back to work.
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The end.
Happy New Year!