Not So Stupid

Author: equallydulcet

Summary: An old friend helps Harry out during the Cotterdam incident.

Pairing: Harry/Ruth

Timeline: Picks up partway through 5.05.

Author's Note:

Hello all! It has been an awfully long while since I've really been active on unfortunately, and boy! have I missed out on some awesome stories! I have previously published one story (my first fic) before, under a different name which I have removed and may republish later on. I've changed names so as to ensure my mates here at home don't know who I am on here. If that makes sense…

Ack! I'm being long winded – here is my second fic, and I hope that it's all right. I'm a little unsure of the ending, but it's 3:00am and after getting the idea over a year ago, I've FINALLY written it (and only just finished!) and want to post it before I lose my nerve.

So now after I've yammered your ears off, please read, and if you deem it worthy – review! Ta

Not So Stupid

Let it never be said that Harry Pearce was averse to taking advantage of the habits and weaknesses of his enemies, especially when he and his were being threatened.

It was with this thought that Harry fought to suppress the smug grin which threatened to break across his stoic face as he shrugged out of his jacket, handing it off to the waiter. Across the table, Maces' narrowed eyes swept over his body; obviously looking for evidence the MI-5 section head was wired for sound, despite his denial. Inspection over and ostensibly satisfied, Mace took his seat, looking at Harry expectantly. Tugging at his sleeves and straightening the cufflinks, Harry rolled his eyes and sat down to join him; anger simmering just below the surface of his seemingly calm, reasonable exterior. He sat and waited with a small amount of curiosity – he knew Mace was using his feelings for Ruth to get to him, but to what end?

Elsewhere in London, a computer beeped, announcing the initiation of a program. It ran unheeded; its persistent alert throwing light onto the walls of the darkened, unoccupied room.

As she, Zaf and Adam stood horrified as they watched Harry being led to the waiting police car, all Ruth could hear was the blood thundering in her ears. This stupid, wonderful man was going to throw his career and life away to protect her. There was no way she would allow that to happen – Harry Pearce was far too important to the survival of the Service as they knew it. Not to mention the fact that she loved him too much to see him throw his life away to save hers.

She only half heard Adam issuing his latest orders as the blonde jumped into the black Lexus and sped off after the police car containing Harry, before snapping out of it and following Zaf down the street.

As the two of them made their way through the thoroughfares of London to the relative safety of Adam's flat, Ruth's mind was racing, formulating and dismissing various plans to save Harry. However, the only viable plan that she could come up with would not be a popular one.

At length and resolved on the best course of action, Ruth panted breathlessly. "Zaf, you know what will have to happen. I can't let him do this, you know that."

Zaf stopped and turned to her; chest heaving from exertion, a look of anguish distorting his features. "No," he said vehemently, "we'll figure something out, there has to be another way."

At the sight of Ruth determinedly holding his gaze and slightly shaking her head, Zaf growled a 'no!' forcefully through his teeth and then turned and stalked away, yelling for Ruth to keep moving.

As soon as the cool, hard metal of the handcuffs were removed, Harry unconsciously rubbed his wrists; savouring the ability to move his arms freely once more. Walking into the centre of the room, his head snapped around at the sound of the cell door closing; the lock sliding into place with an ominous bang. Looking back, he took in his surroundings with a sigh. He went over his plan once again in his mind. If it - 'if I' thought Harry automatically - had failed, dank prison cells would become very familiar to him. 'At least for the moment it's a room with a view', he thought, snorting gently as he stood in the pale shaft of light coming though the opaque, barred window.

Harry moved across the cell and sat on the small bed in the corner; the thin, lumpy mattress providing no relief from the hard metal bench underneath. He dragged a hand down his face then kept it there as he reflected on the events of the past hour, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

The look of sheer amazement on Oliver Mace's face as he nursed his slashed forearm, unable to believe that Harry was going to incriminate himself to save Ruth; surprise then giving way to anger and Mace moving towards him, intent on payback, only to be promptly stopped in his tracks by the right cross he had thrown; gazing down at Mace's unconscious form sprawled on the restaurant's floor as security had come from behind, needlessly restraining his arms behind his back and pulling him, unresisting, towards reception; the police arriving and taking his and witness statements, handcuffing him and leading him to the waiting police car; and finally the looks of disbelief on their faces as they realised who it was that they were arresting.

Suddenly, the cell door opened and Harry looked up, immediately turning away at the severe look on Adam's face as he walked in. 'That's it then,' Harry thought grimly, 'it's over.' He faced Adam once more and held his gaze, prepared to go to any length to ensure Ruth would remain free.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, everyone on the Grid had to smile when news of Harry's arrest came through. Not only had he managed knock Oliver Mace out cold - something that brought a sense of satisfaction to all on the Grid; but the very fact he did so to implicate himself was felt by all to be incontrovertible evidence that their section head felt more than just friendship for his senior intelligence analyst. However, the cold, hard reality of the situation was that their boss and colleague were being enclosed in an ever-tightening net with seemingly no viable escape. It was with this sobering thought that all efforts to clear their names had increased tenfold.

For the past hour, Malcom had been examining Mace's CCTV footage of the tube station; picking it apart, frantically trying to find the glitch that proved that it had been altered. He knew it had to be there, yet so far he hadn't been able to find it despite his best efforts; it was possibly the best fake he had ever seen. If it wasn't being used to destroy those he cared about, he might have even taken the time to admire its quality.

He pushed himself away from his desk, letting out a noise of frustration. Drawing in a deep breath and standing, his eyes scanned the Grid. Across the room through the throng of officers and analysts he spied Jo at her desk, telephone to her ear and made his way towards her. As he reached her she looked up, placing the phone on the hook, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Have you had any luck?" she asked eagerly.

"No, not as yet. You?"

Looking crestfallen, Jo shook her head. "I can't believe this is happening. It's just…" she trailed off shrugging, unable to articulate the feelings overwhelming her.

Giving a small nod of understanding, Malcom murmured "Unfortunately, Miss Portman, it is. And I'm very much afraid we won't be able to stop it in time."

Malcom hesitantly placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, the corners of his mouth twitching up sheepishly in response to Jo's small, grateful smile. As he turned to walk back towards his station, a flux in the light coming from the surveillance suite caught his eye. Letting out a huff of impatience Malcom strode over to the suite, muttering darkly about the tendency of staff to leave unnecessary computers running. Reaching the computer in question and realising it was actually an alert flashing on the monitor, he sat down at the station and read. As he scanned the screen, a look of shock began to cross his face as he comprehended what it was he had in front of him.

"Bloody Nora!" he yelled, grabbing the attention of the Grid. They all stopped and stared at the usually subdued technician. "He's done it!" he cried, turning towards everyone, a huge smile lighting up his face. "He's bloody well done it!"

"Why did you not tell me when I was here earlier Harry?" Adam asked as they both left Harry's holding cell.

"I couldn't take the chance that we might've been overheard by P.C. Plod. If it hadn't worked – well, Ruth wasn't going to jail," Harry replied, shrugging on his jacket and rolling his tie up, placing it in his pocket.

"She was going to implicate herself anyway Harry, to save you."

Harry rounded on Adam, eyes flashing. "What? And you were just going to let her do that?"

Adam grinned at his superior, not fazed at the least. "Oh, come on Harry. You know Ruth; she can be quite determined when she wants to be."

Harry's expression softened, a small smile gracing his lips. "Quite."

They stopped as they reached the Commissioner at the end of the corridor, who held out his hand for the pair to shake.

"Well done, Harry. The evidence has been submitted to the Home Secretary; Mace has been apprehended at the hospital and the others involved in his little 'club' are being rounded up as we speak. You are of course, free to go."

"And Ruth Evershed?" Harry asked, wanting to leave no doubts.

"Has been cleared of any involvement in the scandal."

Harry let out a small sigh of relief and flashed a grin.

"Brilliant," said Adam, a matching smile on his face. "Let's get you back to the Grid, Harry. I've got a phone call to make."

The despair in Adam's flat was palpable. Zaf and Ruth sat with a glass of scotch each; appropriate, they thought, given the situation. Ruth held the forged photograph of her and Mace, staring at the end of her life as she knew it. Suddenly, Zaf's mobile cut through the silence, startling them both.

"Shit," he exclaimed as he jumped, scotch sloshing from the tumbler and onto his hand. "What?" he growled, answering the phone.

As he sat listening to the speaker on the other end, his eyes lit up, catching the attention of his companion. Ruth mouthed a question, but Zaf held a hand up, signalling her to wait. Zaf listened, without saying a word for a few minutes, and then with a "fantastic," he ended the call and looked at Ruth.

"What is it, Zaf?"

"It's over."

"Over?" Ruth choked, disbelieving.

A wide grin broke over his face. "That was Adam. It seems that Harry got more than the satisfaction of flattening Mace during their little tête-à-tête; he got a confession as well."

Seeing the tears welling in Ruth's eyes and her mouth moving wordlessly in shock, Zaf continued.

"When Mace rang Harry and told him it was time they talked alone, he knew that Mace was going to gloat about what it was he had done and why. So Harry changed shirts."

Confused, Ruth managed to articulate "shirts?"

"Shirts. Seems that Colin had, on Harry's request, improved on the textile recording technology - you know, that bloody jacket he kept banging on about a few years ago?" Zaf stopped and gave an affectionate smile at the thought of their fallen friend before continuing his explanation.

"Activated by cufflinks, not only is the technology even smaller, enabling it to be woven into the fine cotton of those shirts Boss wears, but it also records conversations in triplicate to different formats as well as typing a written transcript. Harry knew that Mace was even more technologically challenged than he is, so he wouldn't even fathom the thought of Harry being 'invisibly' wired. Even so, on the off chance that Mace had took precautions with of some kind of bug-killing technology like a Faraday Cage, Harry played along and set himself up to take the fall. When Adam visited him and knew nothing of the bugging, Harry kept the charade in case the friendly coppers at The Met were eavesdropping. Apparently it had taken awhile for the transcript of their meeting to be found – the surveillance suite was empty in the chaos that hit the Grid when all this went down. Finally Malcom's anal retentiveness when it comes to unoccupied computers has done some good though – even in the fall out of everything, he couldn't just let it go. He went over to shut down the running computer and instead found Colin's program running with a winding, full confession from Mace, courtesy of Harry's knack for steering the conversation without you even realising it. So that's it – you and Harry are in the clear and once again the good guys save the day," finished Zaf, throwing his arms wide with a flourish, brilliant smile on his face.

Ruth still had not said anything, so Zaf pushed, "well? What do you think?"

A dazzling smile slowly made its way across Ruth's face. "Perhaps not so stupid, after all."

Back on the Grid, the party was in full swing. Relieved that the latest attack on their department had been thwarted, everybody was celebrating with a well earned drink and enthusiastically rehashing Harry and Mace's final showdown. Harry looked on in amusement – by the end of the week his run in with Mace will have reached epic proportions. He wouldn't be surprised if he was to find out later that he had actually broken Mace's arm and pulled a gun on him, whilst fighting off six armed security guards.

He had given his staff leave to finish for the day, but nobody had taken up his offer. He suspected they were all waiting for what he was too – Ruth and Zaf's arrival on the Grid. His thoughts on how the scene may play out were interrupted by Adam handing him a generously filled tumbler of single malt.

"All right, Harry?" Adam asked before taking a swallow of scotch from his own, equally full glass.

Harry looked at his junior officer with affection. "All right, Adam." He took a mouthful and took a deep breath before carrying on. "I want to especially thank you, and Zaf, for all you did today to keep Ruth safe. Risking your own careers to act expressly against protocol during the so called 'investigation', and looking after her… I couldn't ask for better officers," he paused, "or friends," he added softly.

Touched by the thanks of the usually stoic, older man, Adam dipped his head for a moment before looking up to Harry's eyes with a gruff "of course, now just don't let her get away" before offering his hand. As they shook, applause filled the room.

Both men swung their heads to look at the pods, where Zaf and Ruth had finally entered. All at once they were treated to the same welcome Harry and Adam had experienced on their arrival – lots of hugs, hearty pats on the back and expressions of relief and happiness that all was right once again. Harry sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of Ruth safe and sound, his eyes never leaving her as she shyly accepted the congratulations of her colleagues. Suddenly she looked up, their eyes meeting at last and a hush fell across the Grid.

Finally, after standing there for what seemed like minutes, Ruth broke eye contact with Harry and turned to Zaf and took his hands in hers. At his nod of encouragement, she reached up and placed a soft kiss on his cheek and turned, nervously walking towards Harry.

Standing stock-still at the sight of Ruth moving towards him, it wasn't until Adam gave him a gentle shove to propel him forward that Harry gathered his wits and moved to meet her halfway. They came to a stop about a foot apart, not touching; their eyes drinking each other in.

Even with the enthralled audience, Harry couldn't help himself. He reached and tucked an imaginary lock of hair behind Ruth's ear, before cupping her cheek with his hand. Closing her eyes Ruth leaned into his touch, before emitting a sigh and opening her shining, blue-grey eyes to meet Harry's warm, honeyed brown ones.

"Everyone will talk," he murmured for her ears only.

"Somehow, it doesn't seem to matter anymore," she whispered, and the corners of Harry's lips upturned in relief.

"And just what do you think you were doing, incriminating yourself to save me?" He carried on, his low voice breaking with emotion, "I'm not worth that."

She reached up and placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under her hand. "You are to me."

At her words, she could feel his heart pounder faster as he muttered "Ruth" and shifted slightly forward, clearly wanting to take her in his arms but still respecting her feelings on making the private aspects of her life known those she worked with. In response, Ruth pushed her hand up Harry's broad chest and wound her arm around his neck. That was all the invitation Harry needed.

Putting his arms around her, he dragged her flush against his body and held her tight as his lips, after years of longing, finally met hers.

'I'm home' was the thought that popped into Harry's head as Ruth's soft lips moved against his own. Lost in each other, they kissed until Harry felt the tears on Ruth's cheeks and pulled away. She smiled up at him, eyes glistening with tears of joy. Then the sound of cheers and applause pulled them from their own little world.

Pulling apart, they turned sheepishly to their colleagues and friends. Harry reached for Ruth's hand and pulled her close to him as Zaf and Adam proposed a toast to the new couple.

Harry smiled broadly at his team. "Thank you again for all your efforts on our behalf today. Drinks at The George are on me tonight, and we'll see you in a few days. Adam, they're yours. Good night to you all."

At the roar of approval, Ruth lifted her head from Harry's shoulder and sighed, "Harry? Let's go home."

Looking in her eyes, he murmured his agreement and he lent down and kissed her cheek before they walked hand in hand out the pods and towards their future together.

END

I sincerely hope this alternate storyline for 5.05 hadn't been done before – I hadn't come across it as I read all the wonderful Spooks fiction on this site.

And of course, Spooks isn't mine (unfortunately). It belongs to the spiffy people at the BBC and Kudos, etc. I'm just having a bit of not-for-profit fun. ;o)