It's nearly midnight, and he's reclining on his old but comfy sofa, glass in hand. His tie lies in a curled heap on the coffee table. Music is playing softly in the background, but Harry doesn't hear it. He's thinking of that day just passed, of the decisions he's made, the chances taken. Of young boys willing to kill themselves for a cause their parents dot believe in. Of the sensitive face of the young boy who risked all to save others today and who had the courage to see all of the mess for what it was.. manipulation. What had Ruth said.. chess pieces..so true.
Ruth. His face softens. His breathing deepens. He is content now. Patient in a way he never was before. Since she has returned, he has appreciated every single moment in her presence. His awareness of her is heightened. He knows.. when she is enjoying the chase, when she is tired, when she is, like today, torn inside with the moral dilemmas of the job. Today, just entering the office, he knew immediately that she was troubled. He loves her compassion. Her moral compass. He meant what he said, they need that beating conscience in the team, He needs it, or they will all become dead inside, cold-eyed dispatchers of justice.
Before she left, he needed surety, wanted tangible proof. Now he knows. Knows they have miraculously managed to navigate back to a place of simpatico between them. And he treasures every shared look, each discussion, as part of that intimacy. It's unsaid. But that is fine. They both know it is there, an underwater current bearing warm tropical promise. He's not going to push. He is still happy that she had the courage to ask him for the drink they never took, but he will not mention it again. He has given the wheel to her. She is setting the course and the speed. He does not care when they reach whatever destination, for he knows now with certainty that they will.
The anger in her eyes has gone. As has the reserve, the watchfulness, the fear. Replaced by interest, intent and compassion. And it makes his heart sing. The gentle caress of her fingertips on his hand, as she reassures him "It was the right call Harry.." He knows now. No rush, no hurry, no desperation. He has patience to watch this flower grow.