Disclaimer: Harry and Ruth are not my property. They belong to Kudos.
He was the last person in the Havensworth hotel bar, finishing his lonely whiskey. She watched him on the surveillance screen and picked up the phone, longing to call him. Why couldn't she? What was holding her back? She wanted so badly to call and softly say "Harry." She yearned to say "Harry, come to me. Hold me. Let me soothe your tired frown. Let me show you what I cannot seem to say." But self-consciousness and fear paralyzed her now, as they had in the past, just when it seemed their relationship might develop into something real, something definable. She hated that she had let that damned self-consciousness and fear refuse another date with Harry. Her Harry. She loved him so profoundly that she was afraid to change anything about the status quo, even though it was far from satisfactory. What if his reputation was undermined by a romantic liaison with an underling? What if his interest was more fleeting than hers? What if his interest was only casual? Oh God, the potential disasters were too overwhelming to contemplate. As things were, she could at least see him daily and spend evenings on the Grid surreptitiously eyeing him through the glass wall separating her desk from his office. It wasn't the kind of alone-time she craved, but it was something, at least, and he seemed to enjoy the quiet togetherness, too.
Harry couldn't stand it any longer. The pounding music from down the hall wasn't really what was keeping him awake, keeping him pacing around his room like a rumpled, frustrated lion. He felt so desperate to see Ruth, to talk to her and tell her how he felt that he would use the horrid music as an excuse to knock on her door. He had to resolve this misery one way or another.
As he rounded a turn in the hallway toward her room, his resolve wavered slightly until he saw her there, tentatively approaching him. God, he loved her. She looked both tired and tense at once, and he knew it was going to get worse before it got better, but he was determined to see this through tonight. She nervously stuttered something about the diplomat having a party, but he was bemused -- all he could think was how much he wanted to hold her, to be held by her, secure in mutual love. When she ended her rush of words with "Good Night, Harry", he said "Ruth…" but she had turned away and was heading back to her room.
When he heard her door opening, he realized that he had let her get away from him again and was jolted into action. His fingers appeared around the edge of the door before she closed it, and he gently pushed it open, saying "Ruth" again, as she stepped back and allowed him in, startled and confused at what he was doing, but with a light in her eyes that encouraged him.
"Ruth, we have to talk" he said wearily, as she retreated, casting about for a safe place to stand, and tried to find something to do with her hands and arms. Finally she perched on the edge of the bed and clutched her hands together, bracing herself mentally for whatever he might say. Harry dragged the desk chair over toward her, but left it unoccupied as he paced about. "Ruth… I can't stand it any longer. I am useless, so distracted and tormented that I can't sleep, I can barely function and it just can't go on this way." Worry covered Ruth's face as she gasped "Harry! What is it?" He pulled the chair closer to her and sat in it facing her, and took both her hands in his. He tried to meet her eyes, but her gaze was on their entwined fingers. He took a deep breath and started talking.
"Ruth, I can't do this anymore. I am so desperately in love with you that I can't think of anything else. I am so distracted that I could, at any time, singlehandedly cause an international incident. I see you and all I can think of is how much I want to taste your lower lip. If I see you worried, I just want to hold you in my arms and have you know that I would do anything to protect you. To make you know that you are my woman, my love, my heart, my everything.
Ruth's eyes were by now fastened on his as he nervously cleared his throat and continued "Did you know, Ruth, that my favorite time of day is the evenings that we're alone on the Grid? Did you know that I pretend to be on the phone, sometimes, so that I can look at you and daydream that we'll be going home together? Did you know that every time I bend over your chair to look at your screen, it is all I can do to hold myself back from burying my face in the side of your neck? From running my hands down your shoulders, to your arms, and pulling you up into my arms? I've loved you for years but I've never been able to really hold you, to touch you and kiss you and love you the way I…" His voice broke for a moment as he continued "Oh, God, Ruth, the way I so desperately want and need to."
A tremulous smile and a soft "Harry…" encouraged him to continue, "All those things that I mentioned at dinner – about all the qualities one doesn't often find in a single person, I meant them all, Ruth, about you. You are everything I need. When you are all excited to explain something you've just figured out, I think "this woman is so insightful, so brilliant, so beautiful, and she's mine." Harry abashedly brushed away an errant tear and went on "Ruth, those occasions on which you burst into my office to tell me off for something? Do you where my mind goes on those occasions? Your passion excites me like nothing else and I just want to lock my door, pull my blinds closed, and pin you onto my desk with your legs as open as we can get them. I want to sink into you as hard and fast and deeply as I can, and I want your passion to be all for me. I want to disappear into you, and you into me."
Harry stood from the chair and, pulling gently on her hands, drew Ruth to her feet with him. He stepped back far enough so that they could see each other's faces.
"So, Ruth, something has to change. We have to face this and resolve it. I cannot be in this limbo any longer. If hearing all of this is abhorrent to you, then we will have to make a change. I don't know what, but something. I thought that you had feelings for me, too, but if I'm wrong, I need to know it now! Please don't let embarrassment hold you back; Malcolm and the others care about us and want us to be happy – they would never laugh at us. Perhaps they're not above some humorous encouragement, but can't you see that for what it is – that they all love you too, Ruth, and just want us to be happy?
Ruth looked steadily at him but was still struggling to speak, so Harry nervously started again "I want to marry you, Ruth. I want us to work together each day, which I think we do so well, don't you? And then I want us to go home together at night. I could actually enjoy my home if you were in it with me, Ruth."
He squeezed her hands almost painfully. "Please, Ruth, say something!"
Ruth stepped closer to Harry and slowly slid her arms around him; he leaned on to her for a moment as his knees sagged slightly in relief. She hugged him quickly, caressed his sides and back, then pulled one hand around again to rub her palm on his chest. Ruth nuzzled her face into his open collar and kissed the soft skin that tantalized her every time he was without a necktie. Her fingers unbuttoned a few more buttons, allowing her fingers to edge under the collar of his shirt toward his shoulder. She spoke with a bashful smile "Sorry Harry, but I've been dying to do that for years." She curled both hands around his neck and pulled his face down to meet hers as she reached up toward him. With her lips gently brushing against his, she spoke softly, "I have admired you and respected you and loved you all this time. I am yours and…" with a catch in her voice she continued "…you are mine. I love you so much, Harry."
He pulled back enough for her to see a twinkle in his eye as he said "Maybe we can use that loud music out there to our advantage" just before his lips joined hers.
