Spring 2005
The look of devastation on Ruth's face when he told her he was sending her back to GCHQ was one of the most endearing things Harry Pearce had ever seen. The devotion she had to Section D and to the team—perhaps hopefully to Harry himself—was actually rather heart-warming. But he needed to send her back, needed to have her pose as a government intelligence officer passing information to Moran and the British Way. And when Harry explained that he needed someone he could really trust to do this, her expression brightened. Perhaps that was a bit too effusive for him, but seeing her reaction made it more than worth it.
Everything about this operation was frustrating from the start. Seeing that sort of xenophobic, racist rubbish seep into what should have been respectable politics absolutely galled Harry to his core. He should have kept his mouth shut but simply couldn't bear to let such horrific things pass by. The fact that he could see Ruth watching him with affectionate approval whenever he did so was in no way a deterrent for his righteous ranting.
But Ruth did absolutely brilliantly. Harry was starting to believe there was nothing she couldn't do. She passed the information to Moran, more than holding her own and looking disarmingly lovely in her pale pink jumper as she did it. She had returned straight to the Grid after leaving the restaurant.
"Harry, I know why you made me do that, but Jesus, that was awful," she lamented, barging into his office with a cup of tea in her hand.
He couldn't help but give her a small smile. "You did wonderfully, Ruth. Thank you."
She shrugged off the praise. "It's the job."
"It is. But you're very good at it."
Ruth ducked her head nervously at his soft tone, taking a sip of her tea. "Right. Well, I suppose I've got a lot to be getting on with, now that I've been liberated from GCHQ again."
"Good to have you back," he replied.
She nodded as she left his office. "Good to be back, Harry."
And then, of course, to ruin that nice moment, the phone rang, and Harry was summoned by Juliet bloody Shaw. Again.
He put his face in his hands, internally whining about his own fate once more, indulging in self-pity for a moment before he headed over to Whitehall. What had become of Juliet was nothing short of tragic. She was a brilliant field agent, once. Incredible instincts. That was one of the reasons Harry had fallen into bed with her. Few things were more attractive to him in that time of his life than supreme competence. They got on so well, working together and sleeping together. Christ, he was rather certain he'd loved her once.
But now, oh now she was far too deeply embedded in the political caste. She thought like a politician. Not like an agent. She didn't respect Harry's opinion on matters, that much was clear. She didn't take his officers' expertise and field knowledge into enough account. It would prove fatal, Harry knew.
And then at last, the British Way collapsed in on itself, just as Harry had anticipated. It felt rather good to be proved right, particularly right under Juliet's nose. And when he instructed Ruth to go get the message to Adam, her smile may have just been the very best part.
But she was gone too long. No call in from her or from Adam. It wasn't until Adam did eventually call in that Harry learned that Moran's people had caught on to them and tried to dispense with both Adam and Ruth, but Adam had prevailed, bringing Moran in for questioning.
"Adam. You got Moran?" Harry asked, catching his Section Head in the hall.
He grinned. "Yeah, about to interview him now. He nearly got me with his crossbow. If it weren't for Ruth..."
Harry's eyes narrowed sharply. "What did Ruth do?"
"She was held at knifepoint when I found her. They tied us up and threw us in the woods for Moran to hunt us with that bloody crossbow. I made her run."
Harry felt ice grip his heart at the image of Ruth with a knife at her neck, tied up and thrown onto the cold February ground, running through the woods for her life. But he just nodded, pleased Adam had insisted getting her to safety. She wasn't field trained like he was.
Adam continued, "But Moran nearly had me. And she hit him with a tree branch." He laughed. "And when I had him covered, you know what she said?"
"Hmm?"
"'Shall I hit him again?'"
Harry smiled slightly. Good for her. He allowed Adam to get along with his interrogation. Harry went to find Ruth.
She was sitting at her desk, focused intently on her computer screen, as always. He leaned against the desk and asked in a low tone, "Are you alright? Adam told me what happened."
"I'm fine," she assured him quietly, her eyes never leaving the screen. Harry knew that trick of hers, avoiding eye contact as a means of avoiding her own vulnerability.
"I'd like to see you in my office," he insisted, walking away.
Ruth followed, knowing better than to defy a direct order.
But as soon as he closed the door behind her, he turned and opened his arms. She nearly collapsed into them. Her body was trembling, but she wasn't crying. "I was so scared, Harry," she whispered.
"You did brilliantly, Ruth. And you're safe now. Everything is alright," he soothed, rubbing small circles over her back as he held her close. "Everything is alright."
She pulled back ever so slightly to look up at him. "It's the job," she said knowingly.
Harry lightly kissed her lips. He kissed her because they were alone in his office where no one could see. He kissed her because her life had been in danger. He kissed her because it was the job, and he so desperately wished he could vow to keep her safe. But Harry couldn't bear to lie to her in that moment. And so instead he kissed her.