A/N: This story takes place between Havensworth and 5.5. Harry & Ruth, with a couple of ring-ins of my own making. All Spooks characters and plots belong to Kudos.

I began this story with the intention of writing a T-rated one shot, and I ended up with 6 chapters of M rating. So much for self-discipline and good intentions. This is what happens when I tell myself that I'll write at least one story which isn't M-rated. This one goes from T, to mild M, to very M.

As usual, the spooky plot is paper-thin, and just a flimsy device to bring our favourite couple together.

When she reached their corridor, Ruth almost broke into a run. Third door on the right. She opened it as quietly as she could, and slipped inside the room. It was only when she leaned her back against the closed door that she breathed properly, letting out a deep sigh.

"Lock the door, Ruth," she heard a deep voice say from the bed. "You don't know who might be creeping around the corridors."

"I know exactly who's creeping around these corridors."

She took a deep breath, and walked slowly towards the bed. They had agreed that they would share a bed. Sir Laurence and Lady Phillippa Barber were wealthy enough to have staff, and the staff would no doubt be reporting to them about sleeping arrangements. Fortunately the bed was big …... huge, in fact. Two couples could sleep in it, and they'd still have room to spare.

By the time Ruth reached the bed, she could make out Harry's silhouette against the white of the pillows. His arms beneath the short sleeves of his t-shirt were strong and muscular.

"Where were you when I needed you, Harry?"

"Did he try something?"

Ruth noticed him sit up straight, and then he slid out of bed and walked past her to the door. She heard the key turn in the lock, and then he returned to the bed and sat on it, patting the mattress beside him.

"Sit down, Ruth. You look like you could do with a debrief."

Harry reached over to turn on the lamp beside the bed, but she stopped him with her hand on his arm. His arm stopped in mid-air, and stayed there, her hand still resting on his muscled forearm. She momentarily wondered how it would feel to have that arm curve around her, drawing her to him. She knew she shouldn't be entertaining such thoughts. This was work, and thus far it wasn't going very well.

Harry dropped his arm, and slid closer to the head of the bed to make room for her. Carefully, she sat down beside him, resisting the urge to rest her head on his shoulder, waiting for those arms to enfold her and keep her safe.

"What happened?" As if he didn't know. Sir Laurence was slimy, and had been watching Ruth all evening. "Did he try something?"

"Sort of. He kept plying me with drinks, which I declined, stating I was tired. I will never again use the excuse that I'm tired with a man like that."

Ruth waited, as Harry sat beside her, watching her. She turned to face him, seeing him more clearly now her eyes had adjusted to the dark. Harry wore a pale blue t-shirt, and dark-coloured track pants. Her eyes move over him quickly, but not too quickly. She saw the shape of him beneath the soft material of his track pants. His thighs looked sturdy and strong, and he had a healthy-looking bulge between his legs. She quickly looked away. She hoped she'd be able to sleep, knowing he was lying in bed next to her.

"He suggested we go and inspect the stables. He made some comment about the stallions – you know the sort of thing – and then he lunged at me."

Harry said nothing, so Ruth looked back at him. She'd expected to see anger or outrage, but what she saw was something else …... something difficult to define.

"If he does anything like that again," Harry said quietly, "text me, and I'll come to get you."

"And then I'll never get anything out of him. We'll have gone through this for nothing."

"Is being here that much of a chore, Ruth?"

"It is when I have to fight off a 70-year-old letch. His hands were strong, too."

"Did he hurt you?" Harry's voice was quiet, and beneath his words she detected an undercurrent of threat.

She turned her body on the mattress so that she faced him, and then she pulled the neckline of her dress aside to expose bruise marks on her shoulder, left by the bony fingers of Sir Laurence. Also exposed was the strap of her black bra, and the edge of lace along the top of the bra's cup. She hoped Harry would view her injury through professional eyes. When she looked up at him, he was about to touch the bruise with his own fingers, but he quickly put his hand on his knee, and clenched his fingers.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his eyes wandering to her bra, and the lace which was exposed by her having pulled aside her dress. Ruth could tell that he was having difficulty in maintaining distance from her, and so she pulled the neckline of her dress up, so covering the bruises, as well as her bra.

"Only when I move my arm. I think I'll get ready for bed now. I'm tired."

Ruth got up and went to the bathroom to change, and prepare herself for bed. When she slid under the eiderdown on her side of the bed, Harry was lying on his side, facing her, his eyes open, his head resting on his arm. Ruth was dressed for bed in sensible, body-hiding flannelette pyjamas. Her curves were hidden beneath the shapelessness of the design of the garments. She had a suspicion that it was not only Sir Laurence who appreciated what he saw.

"We're going to have to employ another strategy, Ruth," he said quietly.

"I'd like to have a look around the stables, but I don't want Sir Laurence to be my guide. I have an idea."

"Are you gong to tell me about it?"

"It can wait until morning."

Ruth closed her eyes, aware that Harry was watching her, keeping an eye on her, protecting her.

"It's not your fault, Harry."

"What?"

"What happened tonight."

"It is, Ruth. I left you alone with that man, presuming he'd behave like a gentleman."

"Did you see him watching me all through dinner?"

When Harry didn't reply to her question, she opened her eyes to see him watching her with a pained expression.

"Yes," he whispered, his voice strangled. He rolled on to his back before he continued to speak. "I wanted to kill him …... for looking at you like that. I just hadn't expected him to …... do that to you." When Ruth turned to look at him, his eyes were open, and he was staring at the ceiling. "Despite him …... looking at you in that way, I still believed him to be a gentleman... and I was almost certain he'd let his guard down with you."

"Perhaps you should have brought Ros with you on this op, Harry. She would have kicked him right where it hurt."

"Can you really see Ros and me being believable as a couple?"

"Perhaps not."

"Besides, you heard what Adam said, didn't you?"

"Yes," she breathed, "he said we were believable as a couple because there was already something between us."

"Which is true. You know it's true, Ruth. I was under the mistaken belief that Larry – as he insisted I call him – would not mess with you because he could see that we were …... together. I thought we were believable tonight …... as a couple."

"We were, Harry. When you kissed me before you went up to bed …..."

"Was that too much?"

"No. It was just right."

"You know that you responded, Ruth …... when I kissed you. I had to pull away from you, otherwise I would never have been able to leave you there with him. You meant that kiss. I could sense it."

The darkness in the room had created a blanket of anonymity, and Harry had become bold. Ruth was still unsure how she felt about this. They were on an operation to discover whether Sir Laurence Barber had a cache of automatic weapons in the storage bunker under the stables behind the main house, and if he did, what organisation – of the many organisations he was involved in – would benefit. They only had two days and two nights in which to find out one way or another. Harry had volunteered for the assignment, being the one on the team closest to Sir Laurence's age, and both he and Sir Laurence had had a military background. Ruth was the obvious choice as his companion for the weekend. Adam had been in favour of storming the property with guns blazing, but Harry and Ros had talked him out of it. This assignment had thrown Harry and Ruth together in a way that Ruth had so far managed to avoid.

"Yes," she replied.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Harry, I meant it when I kissed you back."

"So …... that begs the question …... why did you run from me that night at the hotel?"

"Harry …... we're meant to be on an op here. This conversation has now become personal."

"All our conversations are personal, Ruth. We can't avoid it."

Ruth lay on her back under the eiderdown beside Harry, although there was a decent space between them. To touch one another, one of them would have to reach out. If she was being honest with herself, Ruth would like to have been sharing this bed with Harry under different circumstances, and she was now almost certain that he would also.

"Is the room bugged?" she asked at last.

"No. I checked. No bugs, no cameras. When Malcolm remotely checked the property, he said there were cameras outside the main gate, in Larry's office, and in and around the stables. There are a lot of cameras inside the stables. His livestock is very valuable. However, there are no audio bugs anywhere."

Ruth was aware that she was overtired, and that the tears she felt welling in her eyes may have been tears of distress after her long day, which had begun at 5.30 am.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said at last, sniffing back her tears.

"Whatever for?" She felt him again turn to face her.

"I messed up this operation before it has even begun."

She wiped her fingers over her eyes, and when she opened them again, Harry was leaning rather close to her. "If anything, it was I who should have ensured you took some lessons in self defence, but we only had those few hours to prepare. I'm not leaving you alone with that slime again."

Without thinking it through beforehand, Harry leaned down and put his lips on hers. It was a soft and gentle kiss. Without thinking about how this may affect the op they were on, Ruth responded instinctively by putting her hand behind Harry's head, and pulling him closer.

In the end, it was he who pulled away. "That's enough, Ruth. We have some replanning to do in the morning. Goodnight."

He turned from her, and lay on his side, his back facing her. What Ruth didn't know, as she lay in silence in the dark, watching Harry's back, was that he was having extreme difficulty in not throwing the rule book out the window, and following the desire which was surging through his body. This was neither the time nor the place, and he had overstepped the mark when he'd kissed her goodnight.

Eventually they slept, but the unexpressed desire which arced between the two of them kept them both awake – and silent - for some time.