A little later than advertised, here's part two.
Ruth ducked her head lower beneath the upturned collar of her coat, trying to keep out the freezing chill of the wind that was buffeting against her. The temperature had been hanging around the 2 degree mark for the past week, but the wind chill factor made it seem that much colder. She shivered as another icy blast assaulted her, and wished for nothing more than to be out of the cold and back in the relative warmth of her apartment. Her arms were aching with the weight of the shopping bags she was carrying. She'd put off leaving her building for as long as possible, but when she'd pulled herself to her feet and opened the cupboards, she'd realised that there truly wasn't anything left to eat. Wrapping herself in her heavy coat she'd reluctantly headed out into the freezing darkness.
The last three days had been nothing but a haze in her mind; she'd gotten home from the cafe before her emotions had completely overtaken her. The tears had started to fall as she'd left the subway and she'd been unable to contain them fully; ducking her head down and ignoring the looks that she received from the passersby on the street as she hurried along. She'd climbed the stairs to her apartment and closed the door upon the outside world, before giving in completely to the tears flowing freely down her face. She'd leant back against the door and slid slowly onto the cold hard floor.
She wasn't certain how long she had sat there, but the apartment was in darkness before she managed to climb back to her feet and make her way shakily across to the kitchen. She could feel nothing but a hollow sense of numbness; she had literally cried herself out. She wasn't certain if the tears she had cried had only been for the overwhelming sense of anger and loss that had washed over her. The simple sight of a passport bearing her own name had been difficult to comprehend. It had sat there tantalizingly close to her, telling her that if she wanted it, her old life was hers. But it wouldn't be; it could never be. Everything had changed.
A part of her had spent two years hoping to hear something from her former colleagues at Thames House; she'd scanned the net, looked for messages in The Times and told herself that it didn't matter, when once again, the search proved fruitless. But she'd never truly been able to bury the hope that one day she would hear something. Now that contact had been made and it had left her more shaken than she'd ever imagined.
She pulled a bottle of wine from the rack in the corner of the kitchen and retreated to her small living room. Curling up beneath a blanket on the sofa she had sat there, in the dark, and tried to get her head around everything that had been said. It was all over; the last two years of living in a state of limbo, of not feeling as though she had a place in the world. Over.
But at what cost? Adam was gone... and Zaf. Her thoughts took her back to her last night in London; sat freezing on the banks of the Thames. He'd been with her then, telling her that it was all going to be ok; that they were going to sort everything out for her. She'd made him promise that if they ever passed on the street again, that he'd smile at her. It was such a simple thing to request from him, but something that she'd never have the chance to experience. She couldn't quite bring herself to believe that he was gone.
She pulled the blanket tighter around herself as the cold of the night pervaded her apartment. That wasn't the only loss. She closed her eyes as she thought of the other news that she'd received. One of the things that had gotten her through the aching loneliness that had accompanied the first few months of her exile, had been the thought that there was still a house in Cheltenham that contained the remnants of her family and her past; that still carried the memories of who she had been. It was one of the few things that she'd had to hold onto during the past two years, one of the only constants in her life that she could completely rely on remaining unchanged. And now she'd heard that that was gone. Another part of her life wiped out, another piece of her world removed.
She was pulled out of her revere by the sound of footsteps echoing on the frozen pavement behind her. They were steady, unhurried; not the nervous, expectant pace of a street mugger. She sighed heavily before calling out. "I wondered just how long it would take you to work it out."
She noted the way that the steps behind her slowed slightly before resuming their steady pace again, and she allowed herself a thin smile of satisfaction; her tail had obviously not been expecting her to notice his presence.
"You don't seem all that surprised to see me," a male voice floated forward.
She recognised the voice as belonging to the man she had met previously and struggled to remember his name.
"When did the service ever respect the wishes of the individual?" she remarked hollowly as the man fell into step at her side. "Actually, I expected you yesterday...standards must be slipping."
"I'll admit it took a while to find you."
Ruth stopped and turned to look up at the figure at her side, catching his profile in the light thrown out from a nearby streetlight, confirming that it was indeed the man she had met at Grand Central.
"Why bother finding me? I thought I made myself clear the last time we met." She looked searchingly at him. "...Or is there something else that you're not telling me?" Her eyes widened and she shook her head slowly as she backed a few paces away, wanting to put some distance between herself and Lucas as though that could prevent anything he said from affecting her. What else was it that he hadn't told her? What else was it that he was keeping from her? She swallowed hard, a sick feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.
Lucas held up his hands. "No more surprises," he told her quickly.
"So why are you here?" she made no attempt to keep the accusing tone out of her voice. She wanted him to go; his presence in her life again only served to remind her of the news she had recently received. She'd pushed down her emotions and managed to get to the store and back without that wave of loss washing over her again. Facing him here, so close to the place that she now called home, felt like an invasion. She wanted him out of her life as quickly as possible; she didn't want to dwell on those feelings of loss that were threatening to overwhelm her again.
"You couldn't think that I'd leave you just like that?"
Ruth let out a short laugh. "The service isn't exactly renowned for its caring, sharing side."
"Jo would never speak to me again if I didn't try at least one more time to make contact."
Ruth closed her eyes and wished that she'd followed through on her original plan. She'd dragged herself off of the sofa at some time in the early hours of the morning. The pale fingers of dawn had been forcing their way through the slatted blinds that covered the window as she'd made her way into the bedroom and pulled her battered suitcases from beneath the bed. It had become a routine now, to pick up, to pack and to move on to somewhere new. She'd been doing it all her life; ever since the death of her father when she'd been packed off to school. If something was too hard to deal with, it was better to just move away from it, to bury it deep and to move on.
She turned on her heel and began walking away from Lucas, wishing that she could make him understand that she wasn't interested in talking to him.
He broke off from whatever it was he had been saying and hurried to catch up with her. She sighed heavily.
"I suppose it was too much to hope that you'd take the hint," she told him bluntly.
"We have to talk," he told her, and she felt as though she wanted to scream at him. Who was he to dictate the timings to her? Who was he to tell her that now was the time to talk? Her pace slowed as she neared the front of her building. There was going to be no shaking him until he'd said his piece. If she could make it through the meeting, she could send him on his way and then be on hers again. She stopped and turned to face him. "Now you're here, I suppose that you'd best come on up....invited this time" Still not making eye contact with him, she moved away.
Lucas watched her as she headed away from him. He'd been hoping that she'd have lowered the defences a little by now, but if anything, she seemed harder to reach than before.
He looked up at the apartment building; it had seen better days. There was nominally a secure entry system but in reality it was out of order – the main door to the building was crashing back and forth against its frame in the gusting winds. Ruth seemed not to care though and picked her way along the overgrown path and into the relative warmth of the lobby. He followed her, taking care not to tread on the broken glass that littered the pathway.
She was leaning against the door when he reached it, holding it open. "Go on up; I'm sure you know the way," she told him pointedly.
"I haven't been through your apartment," He assured her as he moved past her and made his way across the lobby.
She shook her head. "Seems I was right, standards are slipping." She turned a sharp left and shifted the bags to one hand and pulled on the heavy fire door. "Don't even think about trying to use the lift; I think the last time it worked; Regan was still in the White House," she called back over her shoulder as she began to climb the stairs. Lucas took a breath and set off after her.
Upon reaching the sixth floor, she led him down a dimly lit corridor towards her apartment. The main light in the hallway was broken, and only the faint glimmer from the streetlight outside the window illuminated the way forward. He watched her as she moved down the passageway, not seeming to notice the state of the place. Her keys were in her hand by the time she reached the door; the first deadbolt key poised, ready to fit the lock; all part of an obviously well honed security routine.
He noticed a small folded white scrap of paper flutter towards the floor as she turned the final lock and pushed open the door to her apartment.
"Worried about unwanted visitors?" He questioned as she disappeared from view; surprised that she was still employing such tactics.
"Landlord," she told him without glancing back over her shoulder. "Seems to think he can come and take a look round the place anytime that he wants. Doesn't mean that he'll ever fix the heating though." She paused for a beat. "It was good of you to replace the paper after your visit."
"I didn't search your apartment," he called after her but she appeared not to hear him. He shook his head and followed her in
The first thing that struck him about the apartment was a strange sense of déjà vu. There was something almost familiar about the place, and it took him a few seconds to realise what the apartment reminded him of...a safe house. He'd always hated them; bland soulless places that were devoid of any sense of identity or personalisation. As his eyes scanned the meagre contents of the apartment, the impression became greater.
He looked guiltily at Ruth as he realised that she had noticed him checking out her apartment.
"Didn't you get a good enough look at it when you were searching the place?" she demanded to know.
Lucas sighed. "Contrary to what you may believe, I haven't been in your apartment. I wasn't hiding outside in the bushes waiting for you to leave so that I could look around here."
"So, why were you hiding in the bushes?"
Lucas smiled. "I wasn't hiding in the bushes. I was sitting in a rental car, waiting to see if you were home."
Ruth shrugged her shoulders. "Well, now you've found me; congratulations, you've done your job. Why don't you just go away and leave me alone?" She turned her back on him again.
"I know you've got a lot to work through..."
"Oh do you? ... good for you. Thank you for being so damned understanding." She shook her head. "You stand here and you tell me you know what I'm going through....You haven't got a clue."
Lucas opened his mouth to say something but Ruth turned back to face him and held up a hand.
"No, no...I think it's about time that I had the chance to say this to someone." She glanced up towards the ceiling. "Do you know what I've been doing for the past two years? Do you? I've been working in grotty little places for a grotty little wage, because have you any idea what my CV looks like? Oh yes, yes there was a legend, but thrown together in such a hurry that hardly any of it stands up to scrutiny." She paced back and forth across the tiny kitchen. "But do you know the worst part of it? Two years...two years I've spent lying to every single person I've met. Do you know what that's like? It's not an op... it's not cover. These aren't people out to upset the balance of power in the country, and I don't get to send little coded messages back to the real world, telling them how it's all going at the end of the day. This is real; this is the only life that I have and these are just normal people just going about their boring little everyday routine. I meet someone... get to know them... and god help them, like a normal human being, they tell me a little something about themselves." She paused, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly as she sought to put into words the emotions she had gone through. "You know what I do then? You know what I do to every person who reveals a little something about themselves to me? I lie...I lie to them about everything, about who I am, where I come from, everything. After a while I find that I just can't do it anymore; can't walk into a shop, or a job or a bar and just lie to these people...." she tailed off, as though she thought that she was saying too much. "There isn't a greater good to fight for, or a conspiracy to uncover; it's just me lying... Lie upon lie upon lie. After a while... I just can't do it..."
"So you move on?" Lucas finished the sentence for her.
Ruth nodded and turned back to the counter blindly pulling items out of the carriers, determined not to let Lucas see that her emotions were getting the better of her.
"How many times have you moved?" he asked her quietly.
"Does it matter?"
He shook his head. "I guess not."
Her hands left the half-emptied bags and gripped the counter top.
"I'm not sure I know who I am anymore. I did all the things they teach us to do; to hide away every little thing that makes you, you and place it inside this little box so that no-one can find it. What they don't tell you is what to do when one day someone tells you can open that box again, and you look inside and you're not sure that you recognise yourself anymore? What are you supposed to do then?"
Lucas shook his head slowly as he began to realise the toll that the last two years must have had on the woman he was with. He'd read her file and listened to Jo talk about her. The woman he'd met today bared little resemblance to that person. He realised just how much of an impact his meeting with her must have had and wished that he'd handled the situation differently.
Uncertain of what to say; he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the envelope he'd presented her with in the cafe.
He placed it down on the table in the middle of the living room. She turned at the sound and shook her head when she realised what he was doing.
"Oh no," she told him sharply. "You can pick that back up."
"I'll leave it here...I think you may need it."
"Pick it up. I don't want it."
"Take some time, think about it."
Ruth let out a short bark of a laugh. "What do you think I've been doing for the past three days...painting my nails!" She shook her head. "What is there left for me to go back to? ...Can you answer me that? I have no home, no possessions, no family, no job. I gave the service everything that I had and in return it's taken everything I held dear from me."
She looked Lucas straight in the eye and he found that he couldn't answer her.
She regarded him for a few seconds. "What is it? Run out of meaningless platitudes?"
"I think it's time you came home."
"To what?"
"A new life."
She looked at him; her face wearing an expression of defeat. "And do what exactly?"
The awkward silence in the room was broken by a knock at the door and Lucas noticed the way that Ruth started at the noise.
"I wasn't expecting anyone," she tried to explain away her jumpiness.
Lucas nodded towards the door. "I'll deal with it if you like."
"If it turns out to be my landlord....say something inappropriate."
The way that her mood seemed to jump from anger to flippancy and back again came as nothing of a surprise; he knew that she was fighting to deal with the news that she'd received and her flippancy was just another way of coping. He turned and headed back across the apartment to the front door.
Ruth listened as the door opened, trying to work out if it was her landlord once again making a nuisance of himself, but the voices were too low for her to hear what was being said. She left the half-emptied bags where they were on the counter and moved into the living room to stand at the window and look down on the activity that was taking place below on the street. She could pick out the people as they bustled by; each one caught up in their own life, not one of them imagining how it could all be thrown off kilter by one simple meeting, one simple exchange of words.
She heard the apartment door close and moments later the door to the living room opened again. She kept her attention focussed on the street below.
"Looking at them all down there going about their business without a care in the world; makes me wonder why I'm still here getting on with my life when so many others are dead," she admitted.
"I wouldn't call this living Ruth."
She froze; her eyes widening in shock as she recognised the speaker. She stood rooted to the spot, unable to move, the hairs on the back of her neck rising at the sound of his voice.
"Ruth?"
She opened her mouth to reply but found that no words would come. She stood there mutely, her eyes fixed on the street below, her breath forming patterns on the frozen window.
"I'm sorry that our meeting is under such conditions..." he began but she cut him off.
"How dare you? How dare you come here and then just hide in the shadows…" she turned and glared at him, her eyes blazing with emotion; anger at his presence, mixed with sheer relief that he was still alive.
"I only arrived this morning. Lucas rang me after you managed to lose him the other day." There was the merest hint of a smile playing on Harry's lips at the thought that she'd been able to throw one of his agents off her trail quite so easily, it seemed she had learnt more than a little about tradecraft during her time on the Grid.
Silence fell between them and the smile dropped from his lips; he felt as though he was already losing sight of the purpose of his visit. He could see the anger and the hurt that was in her eyes and wished there was something he could do about it. He made to take a step forward but she flinched away and he remained where he was...
"So what was the plan? Send in the voice of objectiveness and then if that didn't work roll out the big guns!" She shook her head slowly. "Don't play games with me Harry, not after all this time."
"I'm not here to play games Ruth," he told her calmly. "I'm here to take you home."