Author's Note: Once again, my apologies for the delay in updating…if only I could quit my job and find a nanny for the kids...then I could write fanfic all the time! Not sure of this one, to be honest.
She braced herself against the cold as she opened the door to the rooftop. The silhouette of her boss at the railing was just discernable against the night sky
"Hi," she ventured.
"Hi."
"I wasn't sure if you had left already."
"No, just avoiding some of the karaoke," he smiled.
"Good plan."
Erin paused before continuing,
"Thank you…for the party."
He shrugged.
"Really. No one expected it."
"Well, life goes on, or so people keep reminding me." He tried, unsuccessfully, to keep a tinge bitterness out of his voice.
They were silent for a long time.
"I'm sorry, Harry…the holidays must be particularly hard..."
"It's just a number on a calendar, a day like any other."
"I don't think you really believe that."
"I think I have to…sometimes."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Later, as she watched him across the Grid, Erin marveled at Harry's strength. Everyone present knew of his loss, but she doubted that most excepting those who worked closest with him in the section could even imagine the depths of it, even after all this time. But yet, here he was, doing his best at making small talk and telling horrible jokes, all for the sake of team morale and an arbitrary point on the calendar.
"What do you think?" Callum asked her without preamble.
"About what?"
He nodded his head towards the boss, who just then was threatening to
decommission the next person to touch the karaoke machine.
"Fake it 'til you make it?" he suggested.
She nodded slowly.
"She would've wanted him to live."
A few moments later, Harry took his leave, surprising everyone present by giving Erin a hug.
"Happy New Year, Erin."
"Happy New Year, Harry."
He left Thames House without a backward glance, and tipped the cabbie generously. Once inside his house, he took off his shoes and tie and poured himself a generous (even for him) measure of scotch. He despised resolutions as a rule, but there was something he had avoided for months. Cowardice was one trait that he hated, and he was weary of it hanging over him. So, as the distant fireworks signaled the start of another year, he slowly lifted the lid of the first box of Ruth's possessions.