Cold Case Love Rekindled?

I have no glimmer of an idea of what I am starting to write and I readily admit it. It's the first time I've started without a beginning, middle and end outlined. But I am determined Ruth will not end up pregnant in this one, as I have had a fondness for doing that to her too much of late. I might even implode…not explode Ruth and Harry. I'm getting fond of Dimitri…ah I've always been fond of him especially on The Tudors. Chapter titles will come from my teen nephew's iPod which I accidentally downloaded to my iPad since he used my account. Expect anything from Sugarland to Rihanna to Lady Gagga…actually some of these may be my teen niece. I'm really going to have to grill them. And who is Ke$ha. So nothing is mine. Some of it isn't even Kudos' or BBC but most of it is.I hope to make this mostly fun, with a tad bit of angst. I'll figure out when this takes place as soon as I know myself. Inquiry is favored in British English only when talking of investigations. But it may only be on a smidgen of a reference. The lip part in this chapter is for Lady J. should she read it.

When she glanced up at him in his office mid-day, and their eyes locked, Ruth knew it was time to talk to Harry. Dread only mildly describes how she's feeling.

She knocks on Harry's door. Too late she realizes she's tipped him off. She's already sliding the door open

"Something's wrong. You knocked." Harry knew if Ruth knocked she had something serious to discuss, and from the look on her face he wished he could escape or she hadn't knocked. Something tells him this is not going to be pleasant.

"Hi." Her tone is soothing and soft, caressing the word. Harry stood to welcome her into his office thinking, it's worse than I thought.

"Harry, we need to talk."

"Ruth, I'm not sure now is the time or the place. I've several reports to finish. Can you maybe come back in the morning?"

"No, Harry, this can't wait. I doubt I'll be here in the morning. I've got to get where I'm going."

"Are you feeling ill?"

"No."

"You haven't put in for leave." It was a statement from Harry, not a question.

"No. I've requested an immediate transfer." There. She'd said it now. Ruth inhaled deeply not realizing she had forgotten to breathe for the last few moments.

Harry stared at her and then just dropped back into his chair. He said nothing for a few moments. Her statement hit him harder than the weight of the world he felt he was constantly carrying by himself. Were it not for Ruth's presence on the Grid he might have buckled beneath the weight years ago. When Ruth was away, as Harry preferred to call it, he bowed but didn't buckle from that weight. She knew nothing of the accusations once before when security services were allowed to torture him. Then they found out Connie was the true traitor. Harry swore then he would never trust another analyst unless a miracle brought Ruth back to him.

It wasn't exactly a miracle, but Ruth was back. Yet, she wasn't his, not yet anyway. Harry still isn't giving up on Ruth.

He could only ask, "Explain?" While waiting for Ruth's response Harry's mouth took on that pouty form when he wasn't getting his way. Ruth thought she loved those pouty lips. They were firm but tender, sensuous, perfectly formed lips. Ruth could imagine what those lips could do to her were she to succumb to them, as she knew Harry would like nothing better. Then she shook herself from the images of those lips roaming all over her.

"GCHQ wants me back." Her voice failed her slightly as the air going in and the air going out of her lungs conflicted in her throat for a moment. It didn't go un-noticed by Harry, so he felt there was still hope if Ruth was feeling something and not that empty shell she had claimed to be a few months ago.

"They always want you back. I always turn the request down and we continue." It was that simple to Harry. He also knew the Home Secretary liked having Ruth around. The HS and Ruth had similar likes and he really liked Ruth although he wasn't sure Ruth was really his type in a romantic sense.

"This time I made the request." Ruth didn't look at Harry. She couldn't.

Expressions of hurt, anger and confusion passed over his face in a split second. Ruth didn't see it. "I don't understand. I thought we were doing better?"

"We were. We are. I mean. Harry, why do we have to complicate everything? I've made a simple request for transfer. If it was anyone else would you even read the paperwork before signing." To Harry the request was anything but simple and he knew that Ruth knew that he knew.

"Well maybe if it were Dimitri I might not, seeing as how he is always finding a reason to move nearer your desk." It was his way of trying to lighten the mood. He could tell it wasn't working. Truth be told he was a bit jealous of Dimitri. Sailor boy had a build that resembled that of George, not that Harry needed any reminders of what George looked like or what had happened to George and how he believes Ruth still blames him. Despite her denials, Ruth must still blame me. And that bloody Dimitri not only has a similar lean muscular body but he also is of Greek heritage. Before Ruth "left" as he called it neither Dimitri nor George would be her type. Harry kept these thoughts to himself. Fortunately he'd switched to water to help lose weight, and cut down on the Scotch. He couldn't build a body like he had 30 years ago, but he feared comparison, should he ever get Ruth where she belonged...in his bed.

"Harry?" Ruth's patience was waning. It was Harry's turn to be jarred from his thoughts.

"Ruth, we've been together for a long, long time."

"Well you don't have to add the extra long in there." It was Ruth's turn to try and lighten the mood.

Harry gave her that sly grin he uses when trying to win his way back into her good will. "And it's not really that long and we've never truly been together." This admission from Ruth was stinging. It was almost as stinging as when she refused to marry him.

"Look, Harry, I've got to get where I'm going because, you and I are getting ready to blow."

Harry was more confused than ever by her words. "Oh it's something I heard Beth listening to," Ruth said by way of explanation.

"Since when have you taken advice from Beth? I think your living arrangements need to change immediately if this is what's happened to your analytical skills. Besides you might want have the place to yourself so you can invite someone to dinner without interference," smiling he tossed in the last bit of flirtation to try to keep her thinking of what still might be able to be. The inquiry panel had only slapped his wrists over Albany.

Perhaps a weekend away together would help he thought. "Look, Ruth I want us to go somewhere where we don't need any brakes. I want us driving with the headlights out down a dark curvy road. Not worrying about who we are and what other people think. Somewhere we can be ourselves and take chances for ourselves. Take a chance on our love. Don't you dare deny you love me Ruth. I see it in your eyes as much as you see it in mine."

"Harry we've been down this road."

"Who was it that once said sometimes you have stop hiding behind metaphors?"

Ruth was amazed. She had said that to Ros years ago. Harry still remembered it.

"You are an honest woman. Be honest with yourself. No excuses allowed for yourself, for me.

A thought struck Harry, "You think you have failed me." It was a statement not a question from Harry.

"No. I've failed myself. I've lied to myself. I've lied to you. Every time I've said no, I really wanted to say yes."

"Then say yes to a weekend trip with me." Harry turned on all his charm. "Do this before processing any paperwork. Besides you need my signature and I'm withholding it pending our own personal inquiry."

(Will Ruth go? What mischief might they get into? I'm thinking of Cornwall Casanova for the next chapter….then again maybe not.)