Chapter 10

It had taken Harry two minutes from walking in the door to realise he was not going to enjoy this evening. And being forced to endure his least favourite past-time – small-talk with egotistical politicians – had done little to raise his spirits.

Plastering a false smile on his face, he extracted himself from yet another Cabinet member and excused himself, breathing a sigh of relief as he left the dreary man's stifling company and headed over to join his colleagues at the bar. Head down, he edged his way around the ballroom floor, before finally collapsing onto a bar stool next to Alec. The other man took one look at his boss, and then signalled to the barman for a whiskey. Double strength.

"Try to look a bit more cheerful," he said as Harry drained the glass. "It's supposed to be a celebration."

"It's a waste of time and resources, and money that could be put to better use," came the tart reply.

Alec raised an eyebrow. "Who spat in your coffee this morning?"

Tea, Harry was tempted to retort, but didn't. Tea only reminded him of the President's visit all those years ago, and the incident with the files, which in turn only reminded him of her reaction... No, best not think about her. Or else he'd enjoy this evening even less than he already was. It was bad enough that she had gotten out of it.

He cursed aloud, bemoaning the small-print terms of his probation that mean he couldn't have escaped this display of supercilious ego as well. Alec looked startled at the sudden outburst.

"Do you want me to feign a fatal injury, or a national emergency?" he asked, only half jokingly.

Harry didn't reply; he just set down his empty glass and rubbed his forehead, before turning his eyes on the ballroom. It was magnificent, to be sure, with its wooden floor polished so much that the elaborate painted ceiling was reflected in it, the extravagantly set dinner tables arranged around the edges, its chandeliers casting a soft, warm glow over the room, and its imposing but intricate columns. Ionic or Doric? Or something else altogether? he wondered to himself. Ruth would know. Quickly he beat that thought back down. Ruth was not there, and she wouldn't care about what kind of columns they were. She would know, of course, but he'd feel like a fool asking. And he'd made himself feel a fool in front of her enough times already.

Stop that, he told himself. Concentrate on the here and now.

With all else having failed, he reverted to his spooks instincts and observed. One of the amorous diplomats' wives who had accosted him earlier in the evening had found her prey in another, much younger and far less experienced, spies in the ballroom, and was cosying up to him in one of the benched alcoves to one side of the room, and the Home Secretary was chinking glasses with one of the Section Chiefs from Six. The head of Section F was staring out across the room, apparently absorbed in watching the dancing going on in the middle, but Harry's sharp eyes could see even from this distance that the man's lips were moving slightly as he spoke to the woman on his right, the shrewd Deputy Foreign Secretary. He would have to keep an eye on that, he thought. He'd ask Ruth to run some checks...

Again! He needed some fresh air to clear his head, he decided. He slid off his seat suddenly, startling Dimitri and Alec, and pushed away from the bar. He wove in between the other guests, dodging swirling skirts and polished patent shoes, narrowly missing decapitation by a tray of drinks held aloft by a waiter. When his way was blocked by a large crowd of people he barged his way through the middle, his frustration increasing by the second. He burst out of the crowd, near stumbling over in his haste, and put his hand out for the door handle.

The door opened inwards before he could reach it, and he had to jump backwards to avoid being hit by the heavy oak. He straightened up angrily, ready to shout the skin off whoever had opened it into his face. He stopped in his tracks, completely jolted out of his irritated reverie, when he locked gaze with the culprit, and looked into a pair of incredibly familiar eyes.

"Ruth?" he cried, completely astounded. "What on earth are you doing here?"

And there we have it – finally! It's only taken me, oh, ten chapters to get them to this point... Anyway, thank you for your words of encouragement for last chapter, and I hope you like this one. Next time, the good stuff begins ;D