It had been a long twelve hours on the Grid. Ruth was still waiting for some files to come over from GCHQ. They had managed to locate the bomb in time; it turned out the trigger malfunctioned and poor Zaf was sulking, having been denied the credit of disarming a bomb. She needed some air, so went up to the rooftop. She heard the door open behind her, and for a split second thought it would be Harry until she realized that that was impossible. Malcolm stood beside her and handed her a cup of tea.
"Thought you might like this."
"Thanks."
"How are you?"
"Fine."
"Really?"
She looked at her friend.
"What makes you say that?"
"You look exhausted, Ruth. We're all worried about you…and Harry, of course."
"It's OK…complicated, but OK."
"I just don't want you to get hurt. You're both very vulnerable and…"
"He's the one who has lost his past."
"But you're the one who's been writhing in guilt that you turned him down when you could've gone to the Embassy with him. Just promise me that you will take care of yourself, too."
"I will." She smiled.
"So, how is he, really?"
"He has his moments." She couldn't help but remember the taste of his lips. She continued,
"He's getting very frustrated, but I think he remembers more than he thinks he does."
"Why don't you head home? Those files can wait until tomorrow." Malcolm gave her a little hug.
"And make sure you tell him from me to stop faking it and get back to work."
It was strange to be heading home to someone other than her cat, no matter how beloved. The house was quiet. He must still be asleep. Good, he needs the rest. She was contemplating lunch when she saw the letter on the table and her heart sank.
Ruth,
I wasn't sure how long you'd be gone, so I fed the cat. I also fixed that drawer in the kitchen that was sticking. Your mother called this morning – I answered the' phone without thinking. No doubt she'll have lots of questions for you – I'm sorry. It seems I've done nothing but apologize to you lately. I'm more grateful than you will ever know for these last few weeks. Last night – how do I begin? I miss you in my arms. I have no regrets whatsoever, although I suppose it's probably for the best that we were interrupted. I still have a lot to work out, and it would be unfair of me to burden you with more when you've already done so much. There are few things that I am certain of, but one of them is I could not bear it if I hurt you. It's quite miserable here without you, so I've decided to go and start facing things I've been too afraid to do until now. I'll come and see you as soon as I can, if I may, assuming bloody Collins lets me out again.
Yours,
Harry x.
She read the note over about ten times. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. They could scarcely get their act together under normal circumstances, now was not the time to be jumping into bed, no matter how pleasurable that might be. She couldn't help but worry, though.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
A nurse unceremoniously flopped down unto a couch in the staff lounge at the clinic.
"Stay clear of Mr. Pearce today, if you can."
"Why? He's usually such a dear."
"You only say that because you fancy him."
"Well, if I do, I'm not alone. Anyway, what's going on?"
"I don't know, but when he's not in having shouting matches with the doctor, he's pacing around his room, looking like he could spit nails."
Harry was, in fact, feeling very bloody. On leaving Ruth's, he had a plan in his head but Collins was being uncooperative. He felt helpless, and he had the feeling that this was an unnatural state for him. He had been as forthright as possible with the doctor, trying to explain the unexplainable. How he loved Ruth, no matter how mad and impossible it seemed. And how if he wasn't going to recover, he wanted to just draw a line under his life as it was right now, and start again, with her. But Collins didn't want to give up; told him to be patient, and had the audacity to suggest that what he felt was gratitude, not love. As if that fear hadn't crossed his mind every time his heart leapt at the unexpected sight of her these last few weeks. His head roared.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
It was Wednesday, and Ruth knew it was irrational but had half-expected to see Harry on her doorstep every day that week. She had tried calling him earlier in the day, but neither receptionist she talked to was very forthcoming about Harry's condition or whereabouts. She was debating with herself whether she should go home or to the clinic first, when the DG came in through the pods.
"Ruth, I'm glad you're still here. Can I have a word?"
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
They were sitting in the rather cheerless visiting room, saying little to each other at first. Her fears were realized when she saw the frustration in his eyes when she arrived. She seemed to him quite angry.
"The DG came to see me today. He says you want to come back to work already." That explains it, he thought.
"I have to pay the bills somehow, Ruth." He ventured a smile, but her expression was immovable.
"What else can I do? Pick up another career at my age? My current memory is fine. It will take me awhile to re-memorize the protocols, but…"
"Harry…" He was surprised to see her trying to hold back a tear.
"What is it?" his voice soft and low.
"What if…" she couldn't complete her sentence.
"…I got myself blown up again?" The tear had broken loose and he took her gently in his arms.
"Oh, Ruth. I suppose I'm taking no greater risk than anyone else in the Services, including you."
"Harry, you had asked me to go to the Embassy with you, and I said 'no'."
"I don't think I've ever been so glad that I was rejected." She felt him smile into her hair.
They were silent for awhile, still embracing.
"Harry, Dr. Collins is due in any minute."
"Bugger Collins." She felt him tense up at the name.
"What's happened?"
"I went to my house today." She pulled away from him to look into his eyes.
"It was awful, Ruth. I was in a stranger's house. It was foolish of me to hope for a breakthrough…
"Harry, it's never foolish to hope."
"I'm going to hold you to that." He smiled again, and she felt oddly relieved.