"Hello Harry," she replied, her eyes never leaving his.

She put one hand out in front of her, not sure what she had in mind, when Harry took her hand and lifted it to his lips. She watched, speechless, as he pressed his lips against her knuckles, and then turned her hand around so that his lips rested in her palm. Ruth felt a shiver of pleasure ripple through her body, sending a tingling sensation to all her nerve endings …... all of them … everywhere. She took a step closer to him, close enough that she could smell the scent that was his alone, and with that, all her old feelings for him rushed back, past and present overlapping as the tide within her turned, feelings of love and longing mingling with fear of becoming too close to him. She took a deep breath.

"Oh, Harry," she said quietly, "I've missed you …... so much."

Harry lifted his mouth from her hand, and still holding her hand in his, he reached towards her and put his lips on hers. It was a soft kiss, an hello kiss, but with promise of there being more. Ruth slid her free hand around his neck and drew him closer. To hell with caution. Caution, hesitation, playing it safe ….. none of that had served her well where Harry was concerned. She was free and single, and so was he. What else was there to know?

The kiss lasted a long time, but Harry remained in control throughout. Eventually he lifted his head and looked at her. "Come home with me, Ruth."

She nodded. "I have nowhere else to go."

Harry drove them home in his own car. They were silent for most of the time, apart from Ruth reassuring him that she was back for good, and looking for a job.

"I'm not going back to Cyprus. At least, not in the foreseeable future. I was there hoping to see Nico, but …... I wasn't allowed to see him."

Hearing the sadness in her voice, Harry reached his hand across to her and grasped her fingers. Without taking his eyes from the road, he brought her fingers to his lips, and held them there for a long moment. Ruth thought she saw his lips say the words, `I love you', but she may have been either mistaken, or lost within a romantic cloud of her own imagining.

At Harry's house, he showed her the spare room, a light, airy room with a double bed, a wardrobe, and a dresser. He left her to settle in, shower and change, while he prepared a simple meal of pasta and red wine. They ate almost in silence, although the air was highly charged with words and actions yet to be expressed.

Ruth said goodnight to Harry by reaching up to him and kissing his cheek, saying she was tired. In the spare room, she lay under her duvet, listening while he got ready for bed. When she heard him close his bedroom door, she checked the clock beside her bed, and saw that it was barely 10.30. This would have to be the earliest Harry had retired to bed in a long time. Ruth lay in bed for another half hour, and finding sleep elusive, she decided it was time she took the biggest risk of all.

She climbed out of bed, and put on her dressing gown, not bothering to close the tie. When she reached Harry's bedroom door, she waited and listened. She heard nothing from the other side, so she very quietly opened the door and crept into the room, carefully closing the door behind her. She stood for a long moment, needing to give her eyes time to adjust to the dimness in the room. She could make out the lump of Harry's body on the side of the bed closest to the door. Why doesn't he lie in the middle of the bed like normal people? Why have a large bed if you don't make the most of it? She crept around the bed to the far side, allowed her dressing gown to slide off her shoulders to the floor, and then slid under the duvet, dressed in pink pyjama pants and a white camisole (which was almost transparent in the right kind of light.)

"What took you so long?" said a gruff voice from somewhere within the lump on the other side of the bed.

"God, Harry, I was sure you'd be asleep."

"So why did you come in to join me if you thought I'd be asleep."

"I …. I just ….."

"Breathe, Ruth. Then take your time. I won't bite."

As instructed, Ruth took a deep breath. "I just wanted to lie in bed close to you. I didn't want you to think …."

"That you wanted my body for anything other than extra warmth."

How was it that Harry could render her speechless with just one sentence spoken?

"It's not that I don't want your body, Harry, because I do. I always have..."

Ruth's eyes had by now adjusted to the darkness, and she was aware of his eyes on her, gazing at her, staring at her, challenging her to say more.

"I just wanted to lie next to you while I slept. We've been apart for too long. I'm trying to fix that, but if you don't want …..."

Harry pulled himself into a sitting position, pushing the duvet back as he did. "Of course I want you here, Ruth. Why do you think I asked you to come home with me?"

"But you then showed me to your spare room," she said, her tone one of complaint.

"What would you have thought of me had I said to you: Come back to my place, and share my bed?"

"I would have been very happy had you said that."

He reached his hand out to Ruth, and she put her hand in his. "Come here, Ruth. We have quite a lot of catching up to do."

She slid across the bed, and lay close to him. He pulled her closer, and held her with one arm around her shoulders. They lay together – in Harry's bed – for a long time. It felt wonderful – safe, warm, and familiar – and it smelled equally as delicious – Harry's smell ….. on him, on the bedclothes, and soon to be on her, hopefully on every square inch of her skin. Ruth reached up and put her lips on his. He was careful with her, kissing her gently, his hands carefully moving over her back and shoulders. Ruth could sense his restraint through the way his fingers moved lightly across her body, never staying on one spot for long. This was not how she'd imagined he'd touch her. Harry was a man of high passions, and she'd imagined his touch to be passionate and possessive.

"We don't have to do anything tonight, Ruth. We have plenty of time. I just thought you might want to talk. We have quite a lot to talk about, don't we?"

"Do you have an early start tomorrow, Harry?"

"No, I'm taking the day off. Barring national emergencies, I'll be here all day tomorrow. With you."

"Then, we can talk tomorrow. Tonight I thought we might become acquainted in other ways. London and all its residents could be destroyed in a nuclear attack at first light. I've waited long enough for you, I don't want us to die not ever having …... you know. Besides, we sometimes tie ourselves in knots when we talk."

"Only sometimes?"

"All the time, then." Ruth looked up at Harry shyly. "You do want me, don't you?"

His reply was a deep and toe-curling kiss, heavy with longing and passion. When she felt his fingers slip under her camisole to caress her breast, she smiled into his kiss, her tongue tangling with his. She felt more alive, more present in her body in that moment than she had felt in years, and she knew she was exactly where she needed to be. She would not leave this man ever again.

Thames House, The Grid. Monday. 9.34 am:

When Ruth arrived at Thames House, Phillip, on front door security, welcomed her with a wide smile.

"So good to have you back, Ms Evershed. Sir Harry told me you'd be in this morning."

"Thank you, Phillip. I'm happy to be back."

When she stepped on to the Grid, she looked around her, seeing unfamiliar faces. No-one noticed her arrival. When she turned towards Harry's office, she watched him as he watched her through the window. He smiled at her, and motioned with his head for her to join him. By the time she was standing next to him, he had a manilla envelope in his hand.

"This is for you, Ruth. All is forgiven. Welcome back."

Harry looked at her with longing in his eyes, but he didn't act on it, and for that Ruth was relieved.

"My identity," Ruth said quietly, as she opened the envelope to find her passport, bank account details, drivers' license, and tax details all in the name of Ruth Elizabeth Evershed. She checked each document, running the tips of her fingers over the embossing, taking it all in, ensuring that her name and date of birth was correct. She felt the tears forming, and was annoyed with herself for her lack of control.

Harry reached into his coat pocket and took out a clean handkerchief. He pushed it into her hand, and with it she wiped her eyes. "I love you," he said quietly, leaning close to her.

"And I love you," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

"I know you do," he said, just as quietly. "Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone."

With his hand resting gently at the small of her back, Harry led her out on to the Grid.

Thames embankment. Thursday 7.52 am:

Malcolm saw her before she saw him. Jude Trinder looked wonderful – tanned, relaxed. Her jaunt to Cyprus seemed to have agreed with her. Her dark brown hair shone, and her waves bounced as she turned her head towards him.

"Malcolm!" she said when she saw him, sliding across her bench to make room for him. "From your face I take it you've heard."

"Yes," he said, smiling at her. "You should get out and about more often. I expected it would take you at least a month to budge Ruth. I forgot to tell you how stubborn she can be."

"Yes, I saw elements of her stubbornness, but I think I succeeded because I genuinely like her. She's a lovely person, and by the end of the first week there, I considered her a friend. Harry is a lucky man. If he doesn't mess it up with her, he can look forward to a long and interesting life with her. I hear she's moved in with him already."

"I think it's just easier that way, so she doesn't have to look for a place of her own to live. She's been through enough without that added complication. I have to thank you for how well you performed your duties. I was right, you were the right person for the job."

Jude reached down and brushed an invisible speck from her tailored skirt, and then her fingers began a regular, mesmerising circling on the material covering her thigh. "There were times when I wondered what I was doing there. In the end, Ruth provided her own reason for leaving. I'll tell you more about it when I have more time."

"Now, to the money," Malcolm said carefully. "Perhaps you can email me your invoice?"

"You know, Malcolm, I've given this a lot of thought. I had a lovely time in Cyprus. I had a break – an unexpected holiday – and I met a woman whom I now class as a friend. I think were you to take me out to dinner – somewhere expensive, of course – then we can call it quits. If you're happy with that, then I'm happy."

Malcolm took a moment as he stared across the Thames. "This will be the first time I've taken out a woman since …... oh, such a long time, but I'd love to take you to dinner, Jude."

"Don't get weird, Malcolm, it's not a date. It's payment for services."

"Now that is ….. er … awkward. It sounds like you …... er ..."

"Yes, it does, doesn't it? I won't tell if you don't. What do you say?"

"I'm happy with that. Do you like French food, Jude?"

"Love it. How about The Square?"

"I was going to suggest it. I look forward to it."

"I do too, Malcolm. You have my mobile number?"

"I do. I'll call you."

They sat in satisfied silence for a few more minutes, before they again parted to go about their respective days.

Fin

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. My next fic will be up early in the new year.

I'm currently conjuring another HR story in which Malcolm again engages Jude's services. All in my head at the moment.