A/N: Okay. This is really quite different to what I'd usually do. It's pretty silly, hopefully a little funny in places, and unapologetically self-indulgent. Hopefully, should be a nice little bit of fun after the angst-fest that was 'Voicemail'.
Basically – 505 never happened. In terms of Harry and Ruth, let's say they went on the date, she turned him down like in the show (when he went to ask her out again) and they've just been drifting since. This story has elements of HR, RoM (one I've always wanted to try, but have been a little nervous about), and flashes (literally) of JoZaf (friendship or otherwise – take it however you wish).
This will be a lo-ong one, folks, stretching over quite some time, I would imagine.
* * *
Chapter One
They called it the Hide and Seek plan.
It had been Harry's idea; just after the attempted coup d'etat, the Djakarta incident, he had pointed out that times were changing. The country was becoming a place he no longer recognized, and they needed to be prepared for that. This time, it had been him who was betrayed and detained, but next time it could be any one of them. Worse yet, someone else could face the same end as Colin – something no one wanted to see happen again.
So the Hide and Seek plan had been born. Because they needed to be ready for anything.
It was genius in its simplicity really; a way that they could all disappear simultaneously if the situation demanded it. They doubted that they would ever need to use it, but just having it set out was something of a comfort; particularly to Harry, who was fiercely protective of his team.
Hide and Seek was based on a series of code words:
Racehorse = 24 hours
Whistles = 48 hours
Adder = 72 hours
Pinstripe = 96 hours
Parasol = 120 hours
Crescent = Minimum
Everest = Moderate
Whiskey = Maximum
The first set of words referred to the amount of time whoever had triggered the plan felt that it was necessary for the team to conceal themselves for, the second set described the threat level as he or she perceived it.
These words would be sent via text message to the rest of the team by anyone who felt it necessary. From then, the team would split into groups of two, based on the proximity of their home addresses. Zaf and Jo, Ros and Malcolm, Harry and Ruth. Adam would of course prioritize arrangements for Wes' safety, and for this reason, was partnered with no one. In the event of Hide and Seek being triggered, he was on his own.
Once the initial text warning was sent, there was to be no further contact between the team members. Instead, the pairs would immediately proceed to a pre-determined rendezvous point, known only to them. From there, they would travel together to pre-determined safe houses, tucked away in obscure locations, and once more, known only to themselves.
And there they would stay, for however long the situation demanded, completely hidden from the rest of the world.
When the designated period of time was up, the separate pairs would make their way to a second rendezvous point, and there the team would reassemble. From there…well…they'd cross that bridge when they reached it.
* * *
Thursday, January 7th. 20:02
Ruth warmed her hands around the polystyrene cup.
"I told you it would do us good to get off the grid for a bit," said Harry, looking intently at her as she blew on her coffee.
"You did," she replied softly.
"And it's an established fact that I am always right," he added, determined to provoke her into a reaction.
He knew it had worked when she smiled sweetly at him. "Not always," she murmured with a hint of amusement, "But often, yes."
He smiled back, and together they looked out across the embankment.
Of course the moment was ruined. Harry's phone pipped shrilly from his inside pocket. Scowling, he pulled it out and studied the screen.
"Anything imp-?" started Ruth, but her own mobile suddenly vibrated in her handbag. Her cold hands fumbled as she brought it out.
FROM: ADAM
PARASOL. WHISKEY.
She looked up worriedly at Harry, who flipped his phone around to reveal the exact same message.
If it had been a film, one of them would have quipped that they could at least skip meeting at the embankment, but as it was, they simply gathered up their belongings and made their way swiftly away from the bench they had been perched on. Instinctively, Harry's hand rested on the small of Ruth's back, leading her through the sparse evening crowds.
"Transport?" she asked simply, any trace of awkwardness chased away by the magnitude of the situation – she was all business now.
"We have to presume my car isn't safe. We'll need to hotwire one."
She gave a stiff nod. "And the others…?"
"They know the plan," replied Harry.
* * *
Ros was pan frying chicken when her phone shuddered softly on the coffee table. Rolling her eyes, she calmly wiped her hands on a tea towel, and crossed over to it.
FROM: ADAM
PARASOL. WHISKEY.
Without a single utterance, she turned the hob off, removed her saucepan and entered her bedroom. In the wardrobe, she had an overnight bag of essentials ready and packed for just such an eventuality. She retrieved it, slung it over her shoulder, and left the house.
She didn't bother locking the door.
* * *
Malcolm's fingers tapped a rapid drumbeat on his paper. Twice, the waitress had asked him if he wanted to order something; twice, he had politely declined, explaining that he was waiting for someone. He hoped Ros would arrive soon; if the whole charade was repeated a third time, the waitress would definitely remember him – especially if some nice man helped jog her memory by pressing a gun to her head.
Luckily, as he glanced yet again out of the window, he saw a familiar intimidating blonde glaring back at him. She jerked her head in a beckoning gesture, and Malcolm exited the pizzeria to join her.
"Is that why you were so long?" he asked disapprovingly, gesturing to the black bag she was holding.
"No," she shot back coldly. "This was already packed." She paused, looking mildly abashed. "There was traffic."
Malcolm looked around, but he couldn't see her car anywhere. "You drove?"
"Some of the way. I had to ditch my car."
"Where?"
"Traffic jam," she said simply.
Malcolm's eyes widened. "You abandoned your car in the middle of a traffic jam?" he asked, incredulous.
Ros shrugged her affirmative reply, and he wondered why he had bothered to ask.
Hope you like my Ros and Malcolm. Eep.