Okay, now I am aware this ending will never actually be in spooks. It is far too happy. But indulge me…I do not own any of Spook's characters.
Daylight was fading as they returned to Ruth's flat. The temperature had dropped rapidly as they had journeyed through London and an autumnal chill sliced through the air, making Ruth shiver. Her favourite blue shirt was thin and did little to keep out the cold. You don't really have the time to ask to stop to pick up a coat when you are being kidnapped, she thought wryly. The cold had caused her fingers to stiffen and she fumbled for the key and could not seem to make it fit in the lock. Gently, Harry took them from her and opened the door.
"In you go." He spoke gently, quietly. "You'll catch your death out here." His northern tones, usually hidden, came out when he was tired. It was a little quirk that Ruth quietly adored. Awkwardly, they danced around each other, as tea was made and Ruth went to change her clothes. As she undressed, she found new bruises and sighed. She rummaged in her wardrobe and found some smart but comfortable brushed cotton trousers and a cashmere sweater, which she had never worn. As she stepped back outside the room, all was quiet in the flat. She padded down the hall barefoot and into the living room. The sight that greeted her made her breath catch. Harry had made tea, and found a myriad of biscuits, but had obviously sat on the sofa to wait for her before pouring the tea. He had carefully arranged everything onto a tray. Now, however, this thoughtful arrangement lay cooling and forgotten. He had fallen fast asleep, spark out. He half lay, half sat upon the sofa, his breathing shallow and features finally relaxed. The only sign of the day's traumas was his shirt, which was still stained crimson in places, from where he had tended to her wound.
The thought of everything she had almost lost was too much for Ruth. Ever so slowly she reached over him, for the blanket which covered the far end of the sofa and pulled it over him. He did not stir, his exhaustion was so great. Tears streamed down her cheeks, as she tenderly pressed her lips to his forehead and then settled in the chair opposite. She curled her legs beneath her, feeling slightly more at peace. She allowed her eyes to close for a moment.
The pain in her arm caused her to jerk awake. Dazed and confused she mentally cursed herself for falling asleep in her chair again instead of going to bed like a normal person. Then she remembered. Harry Pearce was now awake and watching her. The distance between them still remained.
"How's your arm?" he asked, the concern evident in his eyes.
"Fine" She replied. He looked doubtful. She steeled herself. Now had to be the right time. No interruptions, the danger had passed. They were together, alone. Things did not have to be as difficult as she had made them.
"I realised something today." She glanced at the clock. It read an hour she preferred to pretend did not usually exist. "Well, yesterday now I suppose." Harry decided to remain silent. Fear and uncertainty began to creep through his chest. He did not meet her gaze.
"Not everything has to be about the numbers. Our humanity lies in seeing beyond the figures and realising that sometimes, even in our profession, the power and worth of our own feeling for another cannot be ignored. It should not be ignored. Or pushed away. Or sacrificed in penance." Her voice faltered, unsure of how to continue. Harry still did not meet her gaze. He did not want her to see the tiny spark of hope, which had crept into his eyes. He tried to push the emotion down and away. He felt the heat rising in his cheeks as his eyes watered.
Ruth crossed the room and knelt upon the sofa next to him. She reached for his hands that twisted uncharacteristically nervously in his lap. He still could not look up.
"We had something wonderful. I miss that. So badly. Is it too late? Am I too late? I never meant to cause you pain, but I know that I did and I am so sorry. I thought I would never see you again today.." Her words quickened, breathing erratic. He still did not look up. His breathing laboured and his mind confused.
"Ask me again" She almost breathed the words, as though she could not bear to voice them; the fear of rejection was so great. He finally looked up at Ruth. The words hung in the air like they had that day at the funeral. He leant over, lips grazing over her cheek, voice roughened with emotion as he spoke into her ear. His words sent shivers down her spine.
"Marry me, Ruth. I love you. I should have said that the first time"
She turned her face towards his, so their foreheads were resting against each other. Then she rubbed her nose against his.
"I will." She said simply. She placed her cool hands on his warm cheeks and kissed him like she had on the docks a lifetime ago, lips expressing what words could not. Together. Finally.
Thank you so much for reading! And for the reviews, please leave me one more if you liked! I was a bit uncertain about this chapter, but I felt they needed a happier ending than they may get!