Here is my vision of some unseen-bit of episode 9.1…spoilers aplenty. More chapters may be coming later…please review!
The drive back from the funeral was a silent one. There was nothing that she could think of to say that would make their situation any better or less awkward. The bright sunshine and cloudless sky seemed to be mocking them. She fumbled with the handles of her absurdly large bag, which was the only one into which she could fit Blake's file. She studied his familiar profile as he drove. She was aware of every movement of his hands, every blink. His face was impassive now, a stark contrast to the frustration and sadness that he didn't hide from her a mere hour ago. We move past this, he had said. He had closed himself off and his spook self-control was back now as fiercely as ever; she had practically heard the click of the lock. She had broken his heart, she knew. The look in his eyes had left her in no doubt. She wanted to scream with the absurdity of it all. Beside her, driving with more concentration than was warranted, was a man she loved dearly and had sacrificed so much for. But she couldn't marry him, as much as she was tempted. She had lived a lie with George, and Harry deserved better than that. She wouldn't be able to bear it when it all went wrong.
It had taken all his self-discipline to not completely unravel in front of the one person whom he wanted to be strong for. What she felt for him now he could scarcely guess. He had been naïve and selfish; he should have known that she would reject him. What did you expect? You send people to their deaths for a living. In the past, his protective instincts made him push people away. Ros' death on top of so many others had reversed his polarity somehow, and now he wanted more than anything to keep her close. The fact that she may have said yes at another time was eating away at his heart. A thousand moments…He tried, unsuccessfully, to be angry with her, but all his anger was directed towards himself and Nicholas Blake. He was acutely aware of her beside him. He felt every breath she drew, and he didn't trust himself to look at her, so every time he felt her glance on him he steadfastly kept his eyes on the road ahead. He wanted to say something, anything reassuring but he was himself at a loss. He had said more than enough to her already.
He pulled the car up to Ruth's address. After the silence of the drive, her voice, although soft and low, seemed to shatter the air.
"Do you want to come in for some coffee?" She tried to sound better than she felt, and was unsuccessful.
"Better not." He sounded so lost in that instant that it was taking all that she had to not reach out and take his hand.
"Harry…"
"Don't." That one word felt like a bullet.
"I'll see you on Monday, Ruth." He looked at her for the first time in a long time, and gave her the slightest of smiles. We need to get through this. The look on her face was indecipherable but in that moment he realized that it was she and not Ros that was acting like a magnet on his inner compass.