A/N: Once again, thank you for the comments. I really appreciate them. I can't promise how quickly I will be able to update again as I start my final teaching practice tomorrow so I envisage myself being rather busy, quite quickly. Hopefully I should get a couple of chapters out over the Easter holidays…we'll see. Thanks in advance for your patience!

Chapter 7

Friday 2nd March 2007

Friday afternoon arrives quicker than Ruth is expecting; before she knows it, it's 4.30. Conveniently, there have been no major threats over the last two days so her workload has been light and it looks as if she's going to be able to get away on time, possibly even slightly early, for once. Finishing her report, she sends it to print and rises to retrieve the hard copy. She places it inside the manila folder and strides towards Harry's office, trying to act as normally as possible.

She enters without knocking to find him on the phone. She puts the file down on his desk and moves to leave, but he gestures for her to stay. She takes a seat on the couch in the corner of his office and waits patiently for him to finish.

"Sorry about that. The Home Secretary is panicking over the security plans for next week's garden party at the palace. He wants to meet to go over the arrangements in detail."

"We'll rearrange dinner then, shall we?"

"No need, I've placated him with a meeting first thing Monday morning. "

"Oh, in that case then, is it okay if I leave a little early…to get ready?"

"Of course," Harry replies looking at his watch. "Can we make it half seven instead? With the Home Secretary breathing down my neck I'm afraid I'm a little behind."

"That's fine, but if you'd rather rearrange, then that's fine too."

"I think we've waited long enough already for our second dinner, don't you?"

"Probably," she replies, nerves building inside. She is confused as to what this dinner means, is it a dinner between friends or is it, as his last comment would suggest, a second date. She wants to clarify it with him but doesn't know how.

"Go on Ruth, you get off home and I'll see you later."

Ruth nods. "Later. Goodbye Harry."

"Goodbye Ruth."

It's almost seven forty-five when Ruth arrives at Harry's. She somehow manages to pluck up enough courage to actually ring the doorbell. She hadn't been nervous at all when she left The Grid, but the arduous bus journey home had given her too much time to think; to come up with a list of reasons why tonight was a bad idea. She'd debated ringing him and cancelling, but couldn't bring herself to do that to him. Instead she vowed that they would have a full and frank discussion, or as near to one as the two of them ever could, about the purpose of the evening and what is happening between them.

The door opens and she is faced with an obviously relieved Harry. "Hi," she greets.

"I didn't think you were coming," he says as he steps aside to let her enter.

"I nearly didn't," she admits, looking down at her shoes. "At one point I even had the phone in my hand, ready to ring and cancel."

"Well I'm glad you didn't; far too much spaghetti for me to eat on my own." He can tell she's nervous and knows they're in a delicate situation, so he goes for the light-hearted response to try and relax her.

It's the right choice. She giggles slightly. "I'm sure between you and Scarlett, you'd have managed." Scarlett, having heard her name, pads into the hallway to investigate. Upon seeing Ruth, she speeds up a little, her tail wagging furiously. She stops by Ruth's feet and sits down, waiting to be stroked. "Hey there girl," coos Ruth, obliging the dog by bending down and ruffling her fur. Standing up again she hands Harry a bottle, "I know you said not to bring anything but my father taught me to never turn up for a meal at someone's house, empty handed." He takes it from her; it's Shleor, a non-alcoholic sparkling grape juice. "I would have brought wine, but..." she trails off, her meaning clear.

"Can I take your coat?" Harry offers, putting the bottle down on the small table in the corner. Ruth slowly unbuttons her cream coat; she'd stood in front of her wardrobe for nearly half an hour, trying to decide what to wear and had changed into several different outfits before finally deciding to go with the first one she'd tried on. She'd chosen smart black trousers and a three quarter sleeve, blue chiffon 'babydoll' top that flowed flatteringly around her small bump, with black printed detail around the scooped neckline. She'd left her hair down and wore little make-up; choosing to go with the natural look.

As she removes her coat, Harry is unable to take his eyes off her. He doesn't know what it is, but she looks absolutely gorgeous. Her bump is slightly more visible than it normally is at work and Ruth is glowing; radiant. He realises he's been staring and gives her a shy, apologetic smile. "Sorry," he utters as he takes her coat and hangs it on the coat-stand by the door. Turning back to her, he bites the bullet, "You look beautiful Ruth."

She feels the blush rise in her cheeks and begins to feel awkward once more. "Harry, I…I don't think I can do this."

"Do what?"

"This," she reiterates, waving her hand between them. "Us."

"I wasn't aware there was an 'us'," he retorts.

"No, there isn't. Of course there isn't, but this feels very much like a…like a…date and I'm not sure I can do that right now. Not with the baby and everything. I mean, pregnant women can't just go around dating can they? It's not the done thing is it! Although, most pregnant women are in a relationship with the father so they can't date but…"

Harry quite enjoys her babbling; he thinks it's adorable, but she's getting herself worked up and that's not good for her in her condition. "Ruth, stop," he orders and she does so, catching her breath. He seizes the chance. "Look, the pasta is ready. Why don't you come through to the kitchen and we can discuss this over dinner?"

Remembering her resolution that they were going to talk about this, she nods and follows him down the hall. He indicates for her sit at the large table that is positioned in the centre of the room. She does so. The table is set with simple crockery and much to Ruth's relief, there are no candles in sight. She watches Harry move around the kitchen and marvels at this new domestic side of him that is being revealed to her.

Harry places a dish of steaming spaghetti bolognese in front of her then moves to sit in the opposite chair. The food smells divine; but Ruth's appetite is suppressed by the nerves and awkwardness she feels, so she merely twists the pasta onto the fork and pushes it round the plate.

Harry watches her for a few moments, before deciding enough is enough. "Look Ruth, the last thing I want you to feel is uncomfortable. Tonight can be whatever you want it to be. A simple dinner between friends, even colleagues if you prefer. Or it can be…something more. There's no pressure. I'll go with whatever you want."

Silence reigns as Ruth considers his words and Harry does his best to wait it out. He continues eating his pasta, attempting to convince them both that his whole world doesn't hinge on her response.

"What if I don't know what I want?" she finally whispers, as if uttering the words may cause some cataclysmic event.

Harry pushes down the hope that swells within him. He can't push her on this; their relationship is still too delicate.

"In that case, this is a dinner between friends…with additional options should you change your mind." He throws her a mischievous grin and she returns the sentiment. "I meant what I said Ruth. There's no pressure here."

"But you want there to be something more." It's not a question; they've danced around their feelings for long enough that she knows.

Harry blushes. "Ruth, I…"

"It's okay Harry. We need to talk about this."

"No we don't. The fact that you're unsure what you want dictates that this can be nothing more than two friends enjoying each other's company."

"But-"

It's Harry's turn to cut her off this time. "No buts Ruth. You are obviously aware of how I feel about you, so the ball is in your court, so to speak."

"I've just got so much to deal with right now; I'm not sure adding a relationship into the mix is a good idea. Hardly the best situation for a budding romance, is it?"

"Let me just say one thing before we put this conversation to bed," he insists. "The fact that you are pregnant isn't an issue for me."

"You say that now Harry, but there's still plenty of time for the reality of the situation to hit."

"I mean it Ruth. Now, come on, if you don't eat that I might start thinking that I really am an awful cook."

Ruth looks down at her plate guiltily and lifts the fork to her mouth. "It's delicious, Harry."

"There's no need to sound so surprised!" And with that, the tension is broken and the two of them finally relax and begin to enjoy themselves.

7