8 October 2005 – Ruth
She didn't think she'd miss him this much, but the last few days without Harry have been so much harder than she anticipated. Despite her efforts to avoid him, knowing that he's near, seeing him every day has brought her a quiet sense of contentment she'd not realised was there until he was suddenly gone.
Even thinking of their one-night-stand no longer fills her with guilt and regret. It's been three months already, after all, and she's able to focus more on the positive emotions now – the comfort, the joy, the contentment she'd experienced while lying in his arms afterwards, the connection between them that had felt so deep, so profound. She'd felt loved and protected for the first time in so many years, had felt understood, accepted and cherished as he'd looked at her with such fondness in his gaze.
When he'd stepped back onto the Grid this morning, the first thing he'd done was look at her and smile, and she was sure in that moment that he'd missed her too, and she'd felt herself weakening in her resolve to keep her distance. How would it hurt to allow some of the closeness between them to return? What's the harm in sharing a drink in his office occasionally, at the end of a long day, and talking about work, or books, music, and other things they have in common, before they head off home?
None, she tells herself, though deep down she's not so sure. Does it still count as a betrayal of his marriage vows if he spends so much time with another woman, even if they're not having sex? She has a feeling that it might do.
But what if he's in his office anyway? It's not as if he goes home to his wife when she doesn't have a drink with him. He just ends up having that drink alone. Surely that's worse for all of them, isn't it? And so long as they don't end up going home together, is there really any harm in having a conversation? She won't let anything physical happen between them again. She's determined on that score.
She has a feeling she's just making excuses and trying to justify the unjustifiable to herself, but... she misses him. A lot.
She sighs, then takes a deep breath. Dammit, Ruth! You only live once. Stop over-thinking everything. Let it all just... crinkle out. She nods and smiles in approval at herself, happy to be cutting herself some slack. That's better.
No lifts home, no nightcaps at my place, no sex, she promises herself, and with that resolution firmly in place, she gets up and goes to him, pausing to gather her courage before slipping onto his office without knocking.
He looks up and smiles slightly, noting the omission of the curtsey and, hopefully, understanding it for what it is – a signal that everything is back to normal between them, that she's done running and hiding from him, that she's missed him.
"How was Israel?" she asks.
"Sad," he replies, shaking his head. "I haven't been there in years. It's changed so much."
"How so?" she asks, intrigued. Israel is not one of the places she's ever been to.
"It used to be such a young country, full of youthful vigour." He sighs. "Now it's battle-scarred and weary... Rather like me."
She frowns at that. What is he saying? He's not suggesting he's thinking of leaving, is he? Just a few short months ago, he hadn't wanted to leave Section D for the DG's office. He can't have changed his mind so quickly, can he?
He seems to recollect himself, however, and changes the subject slightly. "It was good to see my daughter though."
She smiles, a picture of the young, vibrant, passionate documentary maker who's so much like her father, coming to mind. She'd really liked her when their paths had crossed briefly during their investigation into the November committee and she'd thought the feeling was mutual, though what Catherine would think of her if she ever found out what she did with Harry... Quickly she sweeps the thought aside.
"Is she making another documentary?" she asks.
"She is," he replies with pride. "It's still a work in progress apparently, but she took me on a tour of the occupied territories that was... illuminating, to say the least. We have it so easy over here."
She nods. "Somehow it doesn't feel that way though."
He smiles. "No. My good friend, Levy's been telling me this for years, but it takes a trip there to actually put everything into perspective." He's watching her, his hazel eyes warm and gentle, a fondness in them that she hasn't seen since the night he took her home after Danny, and she can feel herself being drawn in, her resistance crumbling. She blinks, looking away quickly and taking a steadying breath.
"Anyway," she says, "I'd better get back to some work. I just came in to give you this. It's a summary I put together last night on where we are in all current ops. I thought you might find it useful."
"Thanks," he murmurs, his gaze softening even more.
She nods and turns around, walking back to the door, and she can feel his eyes following her all the way back to her station, her heart beating wildly, thrilled and terrified in equal parts at the sudden certainty that Harry has feelings for her that go deeper than mere lust. Could he be in love with me too?
Christ! Don't think like that, Ruth, she orders herself crossly. She can't cope with the thought that his feelings might extend as deep as love. That would mean he might very well leave his wife and expect her to want to pursue an intimate relationship with him – her boss, a man who's more than fifteen years her senior, a man with at least two decades more experience than her at being a spy and God knows how many more years of experience in the bedroom.
It's intimidating and terrifying to think that such a man might love her. But it's also rather gratifying and thrilling too.
A/N: Harry's trip, events on said trip, and opinions that are referenced here are mentioned in Harry's diary, as are the dates used in this fic (which I'm sure I've mentioned before). Thank you all for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy. I am extremely grateful to those of you who take the time to review. It makes writing and sharing fics worthwhile. Cheers, S.C.
