Two weeks later, 18th March, 8 am
"Harry, I need to tell them soon. I'm really starting to show now."
He glances up at her and watches her as she twists her hands together in apprehension while she looks out over the river.
"Do you want to tell them that it's mine?" he asks gently after a short internal struggle with himself. He's dreading the answer to this one.
"I don't mind the team knowing," she answers immediately, so she's clearly given it some thought. "In fact, I don't see how we can avoid telling them. You've been so attentive to me lately that they'll never believe it's not yours. However, I'd rather it was not public knowledge. It would lead to awkward questions and inaccurate assumptions."
"I appreciate that," he replies, very relieved that he doesn't have to hide the truth from his team at least. "We can arrange to meet at doghouse three for lunch. Then you can tell them."
"Okay," she nods, twisting the fabric of her cardigan around now and biting her lip.
He places his hand on hers gently, stilling their motion, and waits until she turns to look at him. "It's going to be all right, Ruth. I promise."
She sighs. "You can't promise that, Harry. You don't know how things will turn out. What if there's something wrong? Or I go into labour early? And even if everything's fine and I have our baby at the right time and it's healthy, what if... what if it ends up a hostage like Nico? What if no one's there this time to save him? What if they kill us and he's left all alone in the world? How will he bear it? How will I? Or you?"
Harry doesn't know what to say. That's not what he'd meant, but Ruth is opening up to him about her fears, and to his dismay, there's nothing he can say to reassure her. Nothing. But she knows that. She's his best analyst; she's worked it all out already. So perhaps all she wants is comfort. Someone to listen to her concerns and just be there. Without thinking too much about it, he shifts closer to her on the bench and gingerly places his arm around her shoulders.
"I know, Ruth," he murmurs. "I know."
And for once in his life, it appears that he's read the situation correctly and done the right thing because she turns into his shoulder and buries her face there, gripping his hand tightly as she fights against the tears that threaten to fall. And he holds her like that, selfishly enjoying one of the few opportunities he's had to hold her close, inhaling the soft scent of her hair, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, and caressing her shoulder in gentle, comforting circles.
She doesn't let him hold her long, pulling back far too soon and shaking her head at herself. "Sorry. I'm being silly."
"No, Ruth. It's normal to worry about these things."
She raises her eyebrows at him. "Normal to worry about hostage situations?"
"Well, perhaps not hostage situations," he concedes with a small smile. "But normal to worry about the safety of your loved ones, especially your children. I do it all the time. The difficulty is to not let it rule your life and make you miserable."
"I know," she nods.
"It's not always easy," he admits.
"I know that too."
They sit there in silence for a few moments, looking out over the water, lost in thought.
"Thank you," she murmurs eventually as she turns her gaze on him.
He looks at her and smiles, a genuine smile that reached his eyes and makes them twinkle at her. "It feels good to finally get something right with you," he says. She laughs and he feels the warmth of it radiate through his body all the way to his toes and settle in his heart. "I seem to be on a roll here," he adds with a grin, and it makes her laugh again.
They hold each other's gaze for a long time until Ruth begins to feel self-conscious, and glancing swiftly down at her hands and then back up at his face, she says, "Come on. We'd better get back to work. You know, information to analyse, people to save, terrorist plots to avert, and politicians to appease."
He grimaces at her last words as she gets up and extends her hand towards him. He takes it gladly and lets her pull him to his feet before reluctantly releasing it as, slowly, he slides his fingertips across her palm and down her fingers. The sensation is exquisite, and it makes his skin tingle and his body ache for more. He wants her so much, so desperately, but he's petrified that she'll push him away if he makes any move towards her, or worse, accept him and then change her mind again. So fighting back the urge to pull her into his arms, he balls his hand into a fist and set off towards Thames House at a brisk pace with Ruth right beside him.
Same day, 18th March, 1 pm
Tariq takes a sip of his beer and says, "So, what's this about then?"
Harry looks at Ruth making Lucas and Ros exchange knowing glances, however, even they are unprepared for what exactly Ruth is going to say. She nods at Harry, takes a deep breath, and murmurs quietly, "I'm pregnant." There's a stunned silence as everyone stares at her for a long moment. Then all eyes turn to Harry, making Ruth smile and say, "See? I told you so."
Harry grins; he can't help it. There's a pause and then Lucas reaches over and hugs Ruth murmuring, "Congratulations, Ruth."
"Thank you, Lucas," she beams.
Lucas releases her with a warm smile and offers his hand to Harry across the table. "Congratulations, Harry."
"Thank you."
"Wait, you're..." Tariq tails off as Ros silences him with a look. "Right," he adds. "Congratulations, Ruth, Harry," he says.
"Yes, congratulations. Hopefully the kid will get its mother's brains and its father's balls, so to speak," Ros adds in her usual frank manner.
Her statement strikes Ruth as funny, and she begins to laugh so hard that tears start to roll down her cheeks and she doubles over, gasping for breath. Her laughter is contagious and everyone else is unable to stop themselves from joining in as they watch her. "Oh, God, Ros. I haven't laughed like that in ages. Thank you," Ruth chuckles when her laughter finally subsides and she wipes away the tears from her cheeks. "I actually have a stitch now."
"Glad I'm still able to provide some comic relief. I was beginning to worry that I was getting far too serious. So I take it that the parentage of Ruth's child is to remain a secret?"
"Exactly," Harry replies.
"Why?" Tariq asks and immediately regrets it as everyone turns to stare at him.
"Because, you thick headed nitwit," Ros replies in exasperation, "there are many people who would use the fact that the Head of Section D is having an affair with his analyst, who is carrying his child, against him to further their own agenda."
"Oh, right, of course," Tariq murmurs. "Sorry."
"Actually, we're not-" Ruth begins but she's interrupted.
"Ruth, not now," Harry shakes his head.
"But-"
"I think, if you continue that sentence, you will rapidly move into the general area of awkward conversation with the potential of plummeting rather swiftly into the 'too much information' category."
Ruth closes her mouth. Everyone else looks from Ruth to Harry in surprise.
"Problem?" Harry asks, giving them his most intimidating stare.
"No," Tariq murmurs and Lucas shakes his head and turns his attention to his beer.
Only Ros keeps staring at him, holding his gaze patiently until he gives in. After all, if Ruth wants the team to know that they aren't sleeping together, he might as well get it over with before it becomes one more source of friction between them.
Harry sighs. "All right. What Ruth wishes you to know is that, contrary to what you might have concluded based on the evidence before you, she and I are not, in fact, having an affair. It appears to have been a one off event that will not be repeated in the foreseeable future." He pauses and then mumbles quietly, "Though not from lack of wanting to on my part."
Despite the relatively high level of background noise coming from the other occupants of the pub they currently find themselves in, Ros and Ruth both hear the last remark as they're sitting next to him and he doesn't say it as quietly as he intended. Ros smirks and Ruth huffs indignantly, "If I recall correctly, Harry, which I do, seeing as my memory is impeccable, you were the one who refused any further hanky-panky in your bedroom."
Lucas chokes on his beer, Ros's smirk broadens, Tariq looks up at Ruth and then Harry and hastily takes an interest in his empty beer mug, and Harry just gapes at her, completely lost for words. The Ruth he knows is shy and reserved, however, pregnant Ruth, it appears, is as bold as brass and uses words like hanky-panky, something that, unfortunately, he's beginning to find really turns him on. She glares at him for a moment before she excuses herself to go to the bathroom.
"Bloody hell," Lucas mutters after he's managed to stop coughing.
"Yeah," Tariq adds in bewilderment. "What the hell happened to gentle, quiet Ruth?"
"Hormones, Tariq," Ros says knowingly, "hormones. Just stay in her good books until she's had this baby... Still, it could come in handy. Next time the Home Secretary pisses you off, Harry, just send Ruth to have a word with him. She'll put him in his place for you." She winks at him and gets up. "Well, this was fun, but I have work to do. See you all back at the Grid."