More fluffiness. Still don't own them. Don't own the song, either.

"That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like it, uh-huh uh-huh."

Ruth lazily stretched a hand out towards the bedside table, trying to locate the radio and switch it off. Her fingers scrabbled around, finding a phone then a watch but no radio.

"When I get to be in your arms, when we're all all alone."

Her eyes snapped open as she finally realised the singing was coming from the bathroom - and the singer was Harry. She was still in his room, still in his bed and he was in the shower.

"When you whisper sweet in my ear, when you turn, turn me on."

That was enough for Ruth. She sat up and carefully shuffled towards the edge of the mattress. Her ankle was still aching and a colourful collection of bruises had appeared, complementing the puffiness that surrounded the joint. She tentatively placed her feet on the floor, wincing with pain as she attempted to stand up.

"You shouldn't be putting any weight on it for a while," Harry announced from the bathroom doorway.

"It'll be fine once I get moving," Ruth replied, through gritted teeth. She tried to take a step and immediately regretted it as her ankle nearly gave way under her.

Harry moved quickly, catching hold of her and helping back to the bed. "You should have stayed put," he said, sitting down next to her. "Got some more sleep."

"Your, ah, you…woke me," she muttered, willing her body not to acknowledge his proximity or the fact that the only thing he was wearing was a towel.

"You don't like my singing?"

"No…yes. I mean," she raced on, "there's nothing wrong with your singing. It's just the choice of song was a bit…surprising."

"I could have sung 'Get Down Tonight'," he remarked, winking at her.

Ruth looked puzzled and then blushed profusely as she remembered the lyrics.

Deciding he should leave her to get over her embarrassment, Harry stood up. "Right, just give me a couple of minutes to get dressed and then we can get moving."

"D-dressed?" she stammered, failing to get her thoughts away from Harry's half-naked body.

"Well, I can hardly help you to your room in the nip, can I?" he replied, giving her a cheeky smile as he went back into the bathroom.

He reappeared a minute or two later, lazily buttoning up his shirt, which hung loosely over his trousers. "We'd better get a move on; I'm supposed to be seeing the Home Secretary off the premises in about twenty minutes."

Ruth nodded at him, wishing he didn't do dishevelled quite so well and she didn't find it quite so attractive.

"There are two ways to do this," he remarked, conversationally, as he moved closer to her. "Fireman's lift or in my arms. Any preference?"

"I…I…" she flailed, her mind failing to produce a coherent response.

"Personally," Harry continued, amused by the expression on Ruth's face, "I think a fireman's lift would be a bit undignified, so it looks like you'll have to be in my arms again."

He didn't bother waiting for a reply but helped her to her feet. "Hold on tight," he said, softly, as he effortlessly picked her up.

There was an awkward moment by the door as Harry fumbled about, unable to get a proper grip on the handle. It was Ruth who came to their rescue, reaching out to open the door as he held onto her.

After a quick check to ensure there was no one about to witness his chivalry, Harry started walking along the corridor.

"Got your key?" he asked, as they neared Ruth's room.

"Yes, it's in the pocket of my pyjama bottoms."

Deciding it was better to let her retrieve the key herself, he gently set her down but kept one arm firmly around her waist. She wriggled about, trying to reach the small hip pocket of her pyjama trousers.

"Everything all right?" Harry asked, resisting the temptation to offer to help her locate the key.

"No," Ruth replied. "I don't seem to have my key-card."

"You didn't leave it in your room-"

"No I bloody well didn't!" she snapped, panic beginning to rise in her chest. "Sorry," she mumbled, feeling guilty when she saw the hurt look on Harry's face. "I definitely had it when I came to see you last night. What are we going to do?"

"Don't worry," Harry soothed. "I expect it's in my room somewhere. Stay here while I go and look for it."

---

Zaf leant back against the banisters and stared at the wooden door a few feet away from him, willing it to open. Jo's assertion that she'd only be five minutes had clearly been an outright lie and leaving him hanging around in the corridor was payback for him suggesting he wait in her room as she finished dressing.

Sighing heavily, he turned around and studied the rooms facing him. He rather liked this part of the building; the conversion from stately home to flagship hotel had been sympathetically done. The main staircase had been retained, and the wide corridors looked out over the stairwell, giving any interested observer a good view of the comings and goings of the guests on the floors above or below. Zaf had intended to put this aspect to good use, and not just as part of their official operation, but his attempts to take charge of the room allocations had been thwarted. He was certain that he'd ended up having to share with Adam after his plan to put Harry and Ruth in adjoining rooms had been discovered by Ruth. Jo had denied saying anything to her but Zaf was unconvinced.

He turned around again and tipped his head back, trying to see if there was any movement on the upper floors. There was the sound of a door closing and then a familiar voice. Zaf's eyes widened as he listened to the exchange; apparently, the adjoining rooms hadn't been needed after all…

---

"Found it," Harry called along the corridor, waving at Ruth.

"Thank God," she muttered, anxious to get into her room before they were seen by one of their colleagues.

"It was under the bed," Harry explained as drew level with Ruth.

"Oh right." She took the key-card out of his hand and unlocked the door.

"It must have fallen out of your pyjamas, probably when you grabbed me."

---

"What are you doing, Zaf?" Jo questioned, watching her colleague leaning back over the banisters, perilously close to falling over them.

"Bloody Hell, Jo!" he exclaimed, visibly shaken.

"You need to brush up your surveillance skills," the blonde responded, highly amused. "I wasn't even in stealth mode."

"Funny girl. For that, I'm not going to tell you what I've just heard."

Jo moved closer to Zaf. "Don't be like that. You know you want to tell me," she wheedled.

"What's it worth?"

"That depends," she replied, giving Zaf a sultry smile. "If it's really interesting, I might let you take me out to dinner."

---

"I didn't grab hold of you," Ruth said, more loudly than she intended.

"Yes you did. When the thunder start-"

"Sssh!" she hissed, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"I was just saying-"

"Get in here," she commanded, grabbing his arm.

Harry found himself being bundled into Ruth's bedroom before he could even draw breath. She slammed the door shut and pushed him against it.

"I heard Zaf's voice; I don't want him catching us," she said, breathing hard and blushing when she realised how close she was to Harry.

"Catching us?" he repeated, wondering if her train of thought was going in the same direction as his.

"He'll think we've been…you know…" Ruth stopped, not entirely sure if she wanted him to understand what she meant.

"Right…yes," Harry replied, wishing they had been doing what she was alluding to.

They remained pressed together, her hands resting against his chest, his arms around her waist. Ruth's fingers started to fidget nervously with one of his shirt buttons. He smelt clean and fresh and his hair was still slightly damp from the shower. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him senseless.

"I should go," Harry said, quietly, watching the different emotions flitting over Ruth's face. "The Home Secretary…"

"Yes, I suppose you should." She reluctantly pulled away from him.

"Can you manage?" he enquired, his hand resting on the door handle. "With getting dress-…getting ready?"

She nodded, not daring to speak in case she asked him to come back and help her.

"OK." He smiled. "I'll check on you when the Home Secretary has gone."

"Thanks," she whispered, and shut the door behind him, the latch clicking softly into place.

More, as soon as I can (I am typing :P )