Within seconds, Ruth's internal day, date, time, place locator had placed her in her own bed, and in the early hours of the morning after she'd returned home from the GCHQ conference at Havensworth, and the arm curled around her from behind – along with the nose and lips on the back of her neck, the knees beneath her thighs, and the rather prominent erection against her lower back – all belonged to Harry, and Harry was her section head, her boss, and the man she had loved for several years. Ruth breathed in slowly, and very carefully attempted pulling her body away from him.

Every movement she made to pull away was met with a countering movement from him, which drew her back against him, only tighter than before. She tried grasping his forearm, and removing it from around her waist, but he held her in a vice-like grip. Harry was much, much stronger than she was. She even thought of turning to face him, but that may be even worse, given his state of excitement. God, she thought, what if he's dreaming that he's about to have sex with someone …... If Harry and I ever get around to having sex, then I'd rather we were both fully awake, and consenting, as I'm sure would he.

"Harry," she said firmly, her hands on his forearm, "you have to wake up." She tried to turn towards him, but his arm around her waist prevented her moving. It was when he began pushing himself against her, a low moaning coming from his throat, that she decided that drastic action was required. "Harry! Wake up!" She hadn't raised her voice, but her tone was urgent, and she pulled away from him as she spoke.

His reaction was immediate. He pulled back from her, letting out a gasp, and then she felt him scramble away from her to the other side of the bed. "Oh, Ruth," he said, "I'm so sorry. Christ ….. why didn't you wake me?"

By the time Ruth turned towards him, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from her, his feet on the floor, his head in his hands …... the body language of a man who felt shamed. This was the very last thing she'd wanted. It was even a worse outcome than had they launched into some kind of sleep-sex. Ruth was suddenly overcome by compassion and love for him. Under different circumstances she'd love to have had him with her in bed. It's just that they hadn't planned this, and neither had expected to have happen what had just happened between them. She sat up, and slid across the mattress until she was kneeling close to his back. Trusting her instincts, Ruth leaned lightly against his back, and slipped her arm around his waist from behind. She felt him try to pull away from her, but she held on tightly.

"Harry …... you have to talk to me. We need to talk about this."

"I can't," he said weakly, his voice muffled by his hands. "I …... can't."

Ruth leaned her cheek between his shoulder blades, one hand resting firmly on his shoulder, while her other hand rested just as firmly on his stomach. Through her contact with him, she could feel his heart beating rapidly, along with his breathing, shallow and noisy, as he struggled to bring himself under control. "I know you feel humiliated," she continued, realising that she had to be in charge now, because Harry was not at his best, and would not be capable of making wise decisions, "but this isn't the end of the world as we know it."

Ruth felt him attempt to pull away from her. "I'd best go," he said.

"You can't go, Harry. You can't go like this. We have to talk about this."

Ruth slipped both her arms around his waist, and held on to him tightly until he brought himself under control. When she felt his hands find hers, and he laced his fingers through her own, she knew they would be alright. They stayed like that for some time. Ruth knew that Harry was a proud man, and a gentleman, and that he was judging himself far more harshly than she ever could.

"Why were you here, Harry? I know it wasn't for sex."

Harry shook his head a few times before he spoke. "This is going to sound pathetic …..."

"Try me."

"I missed you on the Grid," he said. He spoke quietly, but Ruth enjoyed the rumble of his voice as the sound tumbled around inside his chest. "I wanted to see you and to talk about my week ….. my …. my day – what happened yesterday - and to ask you about the conference. I tried ringing you, but your phone must have been turned off."

"I turned it off during the day yesterday – when I went to give my talk first thing in the morning - and forgot to turn it back on. I hadn't wanted to be disturbed, but had I known you were trying to get in touch with me, I'd have turned it back on. I'm sorry, Harry ….. and it's not pathetic that you needed to talk."

"I waited outside in my car, but it got late, and cold. I should have gone home, but I was worried about you, so I entered your flat. I still have a key. I made myself a cup of tea, and then …... I came upstairs to wait for you. I needed to keep warm, so I got into your bed. I hadn't planned on falling asleep."

"How much sleep have you had this week, Harry?"

He sighed heavily, and Ruth heard the intake and release of breath from his lungs. There was something very intimate about being this close to his heartbeat, and the source of his breathing.

"Not a lot. I stayed on the Grid last night, and two nights before that. I didn't see the point in going home." Again he sighed heavily, and Ruth turned her face towards his back, and kissed him on his undershirt over where his heart was beating steadily.

"I don't deserve you," he said quietly, leaning back so that he moved closer to her.

"Get back into bed," Ruth said. "I promise I won't try to seduce you."

"You know the strange thing? Were I to have tried to seduce you while awake, I don't think I'd have managed …... you know? I was so exhausted …... but asleep, I was …..."

"Ready for anything."

"Yes. I'm sorry if I frightened you, Ruth."

He turned, then, and for the first time that night, their eyes met – his were still shamed and pleading, while hers were forgiving ….. and loving.

"I wasn't frightened, Harry. I was ….. just worried that if anything had happened, you'd be embarrassed."

It was clear to Ruth that Harry wasn't about to leave, so she let go of him, and moved to her side of the bed, where she sat up against her pillow.

"You should take off your trousers, Harry. They'll be so creased if you wear them in bed."

So Harry stood up beside the bed, and removed his trousers. It was dim enough in the room, that as he turned to climb into bed, Ruth couldn't see very much other than the outline of his body against the dull glow of streetlights through the closed curtain. When he was comfortable, Harry lifted the duvet so that it covered them both to mid chest. Ruth reached across and took his hand in hers, and drew it under the covers to rest against her abdomen.

"I really should go home," he said, leaning back against the pillow, and turning his head to look at her.

"No ….. you shouldn't. We should both sleep some more. I'd like you to stay."

They talked no more, apart from some murmuring about the time, and about how soon Harry would have to wake. They each slid down in the bed, and with his hand still in hers, his knuckles against her belly, they fell asleep.


When Ruth woke, she showered quickly, and dressed in knickers, a camisole, and her bathrobe. Harry was still asleep, and she had no intention of waking him. She closed her bedroom door, and went downstairs to make herself a pot of tea and some toast. She turned on her phone, and was shocked to see that the time was 10.12 am, and Harry had planned to go to work early. Well, they'll simply have to do without him, she thought. He needs to catch up on sleep, and for the first time ever she thought: And I need him more than the country needs him. She knew this was selfish of her, but just this once, she didn't care. She also suspected that he needed her more than he needed to be at work. That particular thought sent a warm quiver through her.

Ruth tucked into her toast slathered with honey, and then as she sipped her tea, she thought about what to do next. When she'd decided, she put in a call to Ros Myers, whom she knew would be at work.

"Ros, it's Ruth. I'm calling to let you know that Harry won't be in today. In fact, he's still in bed asleep." Ruth had planned to say that, even though she knew how this would be taken by Ros.

"Ruth, yours and Harry's domestic arrangements are of no interest to me. I hadn't expected him in today. Not after yesterday. I'd already told him to take the weekend off, even though I'm not sure he heard me. He was still dazed and in shock after what happened."

"What happened yesterday?" Ruth asked.

"He hasn't told you?"

"No …... he hasn't, although he's been acting …... strangely …. even for him."

And so Ros told Ruth what had happened the day before, and it explained so much.


Ruth had finished her toast, and was about to boil the kettle to make more tea, when she heard the toilet flushing upstairs, and then the rush of water through the pipes as the shower began running. It was 10.47 am, which meant Harry had had a decent sleep. Now all she had to do was convince him to stay away from the Grid until Monday.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry appeared in the dining annexe, unshaven, but clean and fresh-looking, and dressed. He sat on the chair where he'd hung his jacket while he put on his shoes. Ruth offered him a cup of tea and some toast, and he thanked her. They ate in silence, although the embarrassment and awkwardness of the events which had happened through the night was no longer evident. While they were sitting over their tea, Harry asked her about the conference.

"It was good, I think, although I found a lot of it boring. There are only so many variations on mathematical encoding formulae, and after that it gets a bit repetitious."

"And your talks?"

"They were well received. It did my ego good to have the young ones trying to pick my brains afterward."

Harry smiled at her. "That's because you're brilliant, and everyone knows it."

Ruth smiled back at him, enjoying the closeness they seemed to be sharing.

"You were late home yesterday," Harry said carefully, not wanting to pry, but needing to know.

"Damien Flynn insisted he buy me dinner. He tried to recruit me, promising me a position in management."

"Again."

"Yes. He gets an A plus for persistence. I told him I'd consider his offer."

"And will you?"

"Of course not. I'm …. happy where I am. There's just the right level of challenge in Section D." Ruth sipped her tea, knowing she'd have to be the one to change the subject. "I rang Ros," she added. "She doesn't expect you in until Monday."

"I have a report to write. It's on …..."

"I know what it's on, Harry. Ros had already written the report. Under the circumstances, you shouldn't be expected to write a report on such a traumatic experience."

"That's my job."

"Not this time. Ros told me to tell you that should you turn up at work before Monday, she'll lock you out of your office."

"She wouldn't do that."

"She would, and you know that Ros is not one for making empty threats." Ruth took another sip of her tea before she continued. "Ros also told me what happened yesterday, and so I know why you came around here to see me, rather than going home. When were you planning to tell me about it?"

Harry lifted his eyes to meet Ruth's. She thought he looked haunted, and suddenly, all she wanted to do was protect him. Ruth reached out her hand, and placed it over the hand he'd rested on the table top. Using her thumb, she massaged the back of his hand, from his knuckles to his wrist and back again.

"Tell me, Harry. I need to know. I want to know."