Yesterday, 5 pm
"Presents!" Tariq grins as they all gather in the briefing room.
"Presents," Harry repeats in resignation, staring at the small pile of five gifts wrapped in festive paper that's currently occupying the spot right in front of him. "I'll hand them out then, shall I?" Tariq nods eagerly and Harry stifles a sigh as he picks up the first one and reads the tag. "Ros," he says and pushes it towards her.
Everyone watches as she rips the gold paper off the gift and opens the box. Inside is a brown Teddy-bear dressed in a faux-leather, one piece, black outfit. Ros picks it up and places it on the table, raising one eyebrow as she scans the group to guess who's given her the gift. Everyone's grinning at her; Ros and a Teddy-bear, now that's absurd.
Tariq's studying it intently with unmasked curiosity, and Ruth looks enamoured with the thing, so she rules them out. That leaves Lucas and Harry and neither of them is giving anything away. Reaching over, she presses the bear's hand on the spot where it says 'Press here', and it begins to move its hips as Elvis Presley sings 'I wanna be your Teddy-bear'. She's so surprised by this that she almost misses Harry's eyebrows rising slightly in astonishment. It has to be Lucas then.
Moments later, the entire group is laughing at the dancing bear, and it occurs to several of them that this is the first time in a while that they've all shared a moment of mirth. Eventually the bear's dance ends and everyone settles back down.
"Thank you, Lucas," Ros smiles. "Though I sincerely hope that you're not trying to imply anything with that song."
"I just couldn't resist," he grins. "I knew it would elicit a smile even from you, Ros. Merry Christmas."
Today, 23rd December, 7:15 am
The silence stretches on for a few more moments.
"So," Ruth eventually ventures, "do you...? I mean, I don't..." She sighs.
"Regretfully, no," Harry replies, somehow understanding what she's trying to ask.
She blushes and turns away from him, rolling onto her back.
He rubs his face one more time, and needing to put some physical distance between them, he sits up, swinging his feet onto the floor. His sudden movement to an upright position causes his head to spin as his headache worsens to a sharp throbbing pain. Leaning over, he puts his head in his hands as he fights off the nausea that threatens to overwhelm him. Soon he realises that he's not winning this particular battle, so he pushes himself upright and staggers to the bathroom, managing to mumble a quiet, "Excuse me," as he leaves the room. Luckily he gets to the toilet just before the contents of his rather empty stomach reappear.
He slides to the floor and rests his back against the bath tub as he cradles his head in his hands. He hasn't reached such a point of intoxication in years. In fact, the last time he'd felt so bad in the morning had been in hospital after a particularly nasty drug he'd been given and... Wait a minute! He sits up straight and states at the wall in front of him as his hands drop to his sides. Surely it isn't possible. Could someone have drugged him? But how? And for what purpose? And where? He was fine before the party last night. Could someone have drugged him at an MI-5 office party? Get a grip, Harry, he tells himself. There must be some other explanation. Maybe some of the booze was off. He remembers starting the evening with beer and then moving on to whisky and... vodka? Did he really drink vodka? That explains it then. In his experience, you can't trust anything Russian, not even a drink. What in heaven's name had possessed him to do so?... He sighs. Ruth... of course... always.
He pushes himself upright, and stripping off his underwear and the single sock that he's wearing, he gets into the shower.
Yesterday, 10 pm
"Want to dance, Ros?"
"No, thank you, Lucas."
He shrugs and walks over to Ruth.
"May I have this dance, Ruth?"
"Oh! I... um... thank you, but I don't want to dance, Lucas. I'm sorry."
"Haven't drunk enough yet?" he grins.
"No," she smiles. "Nowhere near enough."
"Let me get you another drink then. Cider, is it?"
"Yes, I mean no. No, thank you."
He shrugs and moves towards the bar, returning shortly with a pint of cider for her.
"Lucas, are you trying to get me drunk?"
"No, just tipsy enough to dance with me. I've already asked Ros and she turned me down, and I'm sure my ego won't be able to cope with all the members of my team rejecting me in one night."
"Two is not the same as all, Lucas."
He smiles and calls over to Tariq, "Oi, Tariq. Want to dance with me?"
"Are you pissed, Mate?!" Tariq replies in astonishment.
"See? No one wants me."
Ruth laughs.
