A/N: This chapter took a turn for the random and stayed there. Oops. Normal service will be resumed in the concluding part… And thank you for all your lovely comments on the last chapter. You're all brilliant.
Ruth had woken the next morning with a slight headache as a reminder of her boozy night with Beth, but it was nothing a cup of tea, the paper and some toast couldn't cure before she went to work and got down to business.
Her conversation last night with Beth had struck a chord with her, made her see things with less of a haze despite the wine she had consumed. She wanted Harry. She did. She loved him. She wanted to be with him. It was as simple as that. Seeing him walk onto the Grid ten minutes after she arrived only cemented that view, especially when he flashed her a smile on his way to his office. She smiled back and felt lighter.
She wasn't going to think. She was just going to do it. It wouldn't do to do it at work, though. They had to be somewhere else to have The Conversation. She would ask him to meet her outside work so she could tell him she was sorry, and that she loved him, that nothing else mattered.
Simple. At least that was her plan. By the time mid-morning rolled around, she had only just worked up the courage to go into his office, and only then because she had a file she needed him to check and sign.
She shook her head, trying to chase away the doubts that had crept in as she sat hunched over her desk, working. Sometimes she thought that being an analyst should come with a warning for the way it made you obsess over your personal life as well as professional. She couldn't help it. As soon as she got her brain into gear to analyse counter-terrorism intelligence, she ended up over-thinking everything else, as well.
Time for that to stop, though. Time to bite the bullet. Monteverdi, Ruth. Pretend you're Monteverdi. He knew how to deal with love.
She picked up the file and made her way across to Harry's office. It's easy, she told herself. All you have to do is say 'Harry, would you come for a drink with me? I need to talk to you about something.' You know he'll be so startled by it he won't be able to do anything but say yes. Do it.
Lost in thought and not looking where she was going, she walked straight into Harry's closed door. "Ouch." She rubbed her forehead with her free hand and slyly looked round, hoping no one had seen.
Everyone had. Beth gave her a slightly hung-over thumbs-up.
"Shit." Ruth smoothed down her skirt and tried to regain a little composure, then pushed open the door without knocking and went in. "Harry, I have a file for you."
"Did you just walk into my door?" He was sitting behind his desk, an amused smile on his face.
"No," she answered, too quickly. He knew. Bugger. She handed over the file as a distraction.
He took it and opened it, scanning the text.
Ruth clenched her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms. Focus, Ruth, focus. She was aware of Beth staring at her from across the Grid. She ignored her. She took a deep breath. "Harry."
He looked up from the paper and raised his eyebrows at her, encouraging her to continue.
"I was wondering if… Erm. I was thinking. Well, not thinking. Talking, actually. To Beth. Last night. Except that doesn't really matter. What matters is that I did some soul searching and I've realised now that this is the right thing to do and I hope you agree. It's not just because it's Christmas. It's everything, really. You are. The timing is… what it should be." Although her words were clearly a nonsensical mess, ruining the moment entirely.
Harry didn't say anything.
"Do you know what I mean?" She was dying inside, silently wishing for him to rescue her. Fool.
He smiled – affectionately, she thought. "Not really, no," he said. "Do you want to sit down and start again?"
She stayed standing. "I'm just… a bit nervous."
Something shifted in his eyes then as she looked at him softly, willing him to understand. Something… good. Something like hope. "Go on, Ruth," he said, quietly. "Tell me."
She nodded and forced herself to keep her eyes open while she did it. "Harry, would you –"
She was interrupted by the ringing of his phone.
"Bugger," he said, looking at the screen. "Bloody Home Secretary." He looked at her apologetically, then pointed at the chair opposite his desk. "You can…" He trailed off as he answered the call with a terse, "Yes?"
Ruth turned and walked out of the office. She thought a few minutes spent standing in silence on the roof and collecting herself while trying to determine whether or not embarrassment could be terminal sounded like a grand plan.
She didn't notice Beth continue to watch Harry after she left his office, waiting until he finished his phone call and then hurrying in to speak to him, shutting the door behind her.
A/N: Final chapter will be up tomorrow (hopefully).