Thank you for the lovely reviews :)
After the exposition comes the vaguely-plotty-mostly-fluffy bit…
At ten to seven, Ruth stood in the ladies' toilets, staring at her reflection in the mirror. In the end, she'd been too busy with observations and paperwork all day to sort out her outfit for the Home Office Christmas party, and so she'd resorted to desperate measures.
From time to time, she was asked as a Senior Analyst to provide mentoring to the new graduate recruits – and the hours of guiding newbies through the basics of working for the Security Services had finally paid off. She'd had a quiet word with one of the more fashionable girls and sent her off on her lunch break with £50 to buy Ruth a dress and a promise to give her a stellar reference when it came to promotion season.
Her only stipulation had been that the dress be able to go with the pair of brown boots she had worn to work.
The result was… not quite what she had been anticipating. Ruth had been expecting something sedate yet classy from Marks and Spencer or perhaps something from Next that would be good for every party she needed to go to for the next five years, but according to Josie her mentee, Oasis had had a sale on.
Hence the choice of dress. It was a very nice dress. It was also not the kind of dress she normally wore. Good for your cleavage, Josie had said. She wasn't wrong. And at least the knee-high boots she was wearing made up for the fact the skirt of the dress didn't quite manage to reach her knees, although Ruth had never understood the predilection for short skirts in December.
"Too late now," she muttered to herself, glancing at her watch and dashing back out into the corridor, her work clothes stuffed into the shopping bag.
She found Harry waiting for her on the Grid, leaning against her desk while he listened to Dimitri and Beth's conversation as they set up for their night of snooping on bankers and terrorists. He looked good. He'd changed into a fresh suit and shirt. His tie was the same shade of dark red as her dress.
Oh God, he was going to think she'd coordinated the dress to match his tie. She was going to properly kill Josie if she found out she'd gone poking around in Harry's tie collection before buying the dress.
"Wow, Ruth." Dimitri looked up from his computer screen as she approached.
Ruth focused on him instead of the way Harry was staring at her. She dumped her bag of clothes on the desk and pretended everything was normal. "Is everything ready to go?"
"Yeah. Tariq's just finishing the thing so you can bug Glass later."
She nodded and turned her attention to the tiny handbag Josie had presented her along with the red dress. How anyone fit anything at all into them, she had no idea. Maybe she could utilise Harry's pockets.
Just then, Harry leaned towards her. "Is that dress new?"
"Um, yes. It is."
"It's very nice."
"Thanks." Ruth jammed her phone into the miniature bag and tried not to think about the fact that Harry's face was so close to hers, she could feel his breath on her neck.
"How'd you manage to get it?"
"I sent Josie out for it."
The expression on Harry's face suggested he had no idea who Josie was.
"You know, the one with the hair. Looks like a supermodel and speaks seven languages." She was absolutely not jealous.
"Ah, yes."
How did she know that he'd know Josie was the one who looked like a model? "Bloody men."
"Thank you."
The Home Office Christmas Party was not, as it turned out, in the Home Office, but rather in one of the larger function rooms at the Palace of Westminster. As a matter of priority, Ruth had scanned the room to find the free bar as soon as they had arrived, and then shared a sheepish look with Harry when she caught him doing precisely the same thing.
"I don't think Glass is here yet," he said. "Wine?"
She nodded and let him guide her over to the large table laden with drinks and guarded by a waiter dressed to the nines in white tie. Harry ordered two glasses of red wine while Ruth surreptitiously watched the guests, looking for anyone she knew and reminding herself of the basic legend she was supposed to be using for the duration of the party.
"Here you are." Harry handed her a glass and then steered her over to the far corner, where they could loiter inconspicuously for a while and wait for their target to make an appearance.
There was a crackle from Ruth's earpiece. 'How's it going, Alphas?' Dimitri asked over the comms. 'You in position?'
"Affirmative," Harry said, leaning in to Ruth to make it look as though he was sharing something with her.
'Good job. According to CCTV, the target is en route. T minus five minutes, approximately. Confirm.'
"Confirmed."
The comms went quiet.
"I swear he thinks he's James Bond." Harry took a swill of wine and then, noticing the Home Secretary enter the room with his entourage, had another large mouthful as fortification.
Truth be told, Harry had mixed feelings about the whole evening. On the one hand, it was nice to be out with Ruth and have the chance to spend some time with her, particularly with Christmas coming up. She'd even seemed to be more receptive to him than usual, which he couldn't deny was nice – despite his best efforts to keep things professional (by 'best', he of course meant 'reluctant and half-hearted'). On the other hand, he didn't especially appreciate the fact they were here on business, at a venue where they had to be on their best behaviour and with Dimitri et al listening in on the comms, clearly loving every second of it.
He also hated the fact that Steven Glass had just arrived – banker, wanker and very tall man extraordinaire – and so they had to start getting down to business. The cocky sod.
Harry knew that Ruth was nervous about planting the bug on the man, and he was weighing up the merits of one more nerve-calming glass of wine versus the potential for things to go disastrously wrong if he misjudged her current level of inebriation. He decided to play it safe and wait until afterwards before they hit the bar with abandon.
"Ruth," he addressed her quietly.
She cocked her head towards him so he knew she was listening.
"I'm going to go outside for a moment and get some air, all right?"
She shuffled next to him, recognising the cue he had given her for putting their plan into action. "Okay."
"You know what to do?"
"Mmm, yes. Get the man to dance." Her tone of voice suggested she thought the challenge was almost impossible.
"Exactly."
Ruth turned her back to the crowd and spoke to his chest. "You really should've brought Beth to do this. She'd be much better."
"What, gold medal in brashness Bailey? I don't think so. Go on. Dance with the man. Just don't forget to save the last dance for me." He didn't know where that last bit had come from. It must've been the wine. Suddenly, a little outdoor sojourn was looking rather appealing.
"What if he won't dance with me?"
"He will."
"But what – "
"Ruth." He cut her off with a hand on her shoulder and a purposeful look on his face. "Don't worry. You look wonderful."
She blushed the same colour as her dress.
"Really. Please… please don't worry. Everything's fine. You won't need to do anything, really. Just smile at him and say something about the party. Then ask him about himself. He's a banker. I bet that's his favourite topic of conversation."
His poor joke didn't bring the smile he was hoping for. "I don't have a huge amount of practice at this."
He knew she wasn't just talking professionally. Harry had a look around the room, saw that no one was looking at them, and risked a sneaky kiss on her cheek. "That will make it all the more endearing."
Ruth looked a little dazed at the sudden proximity. "Really."
Harry squeezed her shoulder. "Yes. I'll be right back."
She nodded and he took his leave, making his way across the busy room and pausing near the door to look back over his shoulder. He saw Ruth heading over to Steven Glass, who was stood near the drinks table. He waited until she was next to him and then turned away to leave the room.
"Control, we've started," he said quietly.
'Thanks, Alpha One. We have visual. Confirm when completed.'
Thanks for reading. More bankers and dancing next time :)