There had never been any doubt in either of their minds that Ruth going home had meant going home to Harrys. They both wanted it more than anything else and the fact that their colleagues all knew about it no longer mattered. Had things turned out differently, then Harry would have been attending her funeral and that thought alone had made him determined to make some changes in his life. He had spoken to Ros who had told him that his suggestion that Alec should stay on had been sanctioned and assured him that unless something monumental happened and she really needed his help, the DG was happy for he and Ruth to remain on leave until she was ready to return to work. In Harry's mind that meant never, but that was a conversation for another day. Picking up her small bag of belongings and with her hand now held firmly in his, they left the confines of the hospital and stepped out into the fresh air.
To anyone who hadn't been through an ordeal such as she had, Ruth would have appeared to be fine. Harry knew only too well, that victims of kidnap usually recovered reasonably easily, it was the psychological damage that took a whole lot longer or in some cases could be lasting. In her case, her pain was also his and no matter how long it took, he would be there for her. Knowing that they had the support of their colleagues made such a difference and if there was something that Ruth wanted to discuss that she wasn't able to with him, then despite the fact that she was relatively new and young as well, Beth would be the one that he would ring.
Opening his front door and heading straight to the kitchen to put the kettle on, he noticed how tidy and clean the place appeared to be. Mrs Harrison hadn't been due that week, so again he had their colleagues to thank for the fact that the house was warm and welcoming. There were flowers on the table with a note for Ruth and the fridge had been restocked. Taking their tea through to the lounge, he found her curled up with Scarlet and fast asleep. Deciding that he needed to be hands on right from the outset rather than they slip back into the formality, that they had previous endured, he picked up the throw from his armchair, covered her up and then curled up beside her. She shifted briefly as he sat down, sufficient for him to stretch full out and curl her into him. Within minutes all three of them were asleep.
It was late afternoon when Harry woke up, desperate to stretch his legs and in need of the loo. Ruth was still asleep so he wriggled himself to the side of the sofa and managed to stand up without waking her. Having carried Ruth's bag upstairs he went first to the bathroom where clean towels had been laid out for them both and then to the bedroom where the bed linen had been changed and their respective nightwear such as it was, was under their pillows. What he had never told anyone was that Ruth had been sharing his bed, but it seemed that Beth and Malcolm both of whom had been to the hospital to bring them a change of clothing, had decided that if they weren't already doing so, then it was time that they did. He was surprised at how liberated it made him feel that people knew about them after years of trying to pretend and if Ruth would accept the fact that they genuinely cared about them and that they weren't just the subject of water cooler gossip, then they might even be able to have some sort of social life that involved their colleagues. Feeling a lot better than he had for days, he went back downstairs and into his kitchen. Rifling through his fridge, he found a casserole ready to be heated with a note in Beth's handwriting telling them to enjoy their first evening at home. Harry's world suddenly felt brighter.
Ruth woke up completely unaware that she had been asleep for more than four hours. The first thing that she noticed was that Scarlet was curled up next to her, but there was no sign of Harry. Trying not to panic, she pulled herself up and headed in the direction of the music that was coming from his kitchen. Managing to open the door without him hearing her, she watched an apparently totally domesticated Harry dressed in jeans and with his shirt sleeves rolled up, peeling potatoes. The smell from whatever was currently in the oven was divine and had her wondering just how long she had been asleep and whether he had spent the entire time preparing dinner. The table was laid and he had a glass of wine on the counter beside him as he hummed in time to the music. Had she not felt so utterly scruffy and in need of a shower and a change of clothing, she would have walked up behind him and put her arms around his waist, but she had that clinical smell of hospitals on her skin and just wanted to go upstairs and get clean.
Harry however had no such qualms, as having heard the movement behind him he turned to see her watching him. Drying his hands on the nearest thing available that just happened to be a tea towel, he crossed to the door, put his arms round her and kissed her soundly.
'I feel horrid,' she said, 'I need a shower and to change, how long before dinner.'
'Take as long as you need,' he said, 'dinner will be ready when you are.'
The bathroom was warm and cosy, there were fluffy white towels on the rack and as the beautifully warm water cascaded down through her hair and down onto her body, she closed her eyes and relaxed. The shower gel was Harry's and she felt an immense sense of comfort as the smell that she knew and loved enveloped her. Half an hour later dressed in her new jeans a sweater and her favourite slippers, she walked back downstairs and into the kitchen.
'Feeling better?' he asked beaming at her as he got up from the table where he had been taking refuge. For the entire time that she had been upstairs he had let his imagination run away with him and imagined her naked and dripping with water from head to toe. The effect that it had created on his body had astounded him as having had what amounted to a monastic life for so many years he had got to the stage where he had begun to wonder if he would be able to perform. If just thinking about Ruth naked had had that effect, heaven knows how he would be able to control himself if and when she was actually naked in his bed.
Ruth had been having pretty much the same thoughts as he had, and as she soaped and washed herself she had imagined that it wasn't her hands but Harrys. The effect was climactic to such an extent that she realised just how much she wanted and needed sex with Harry.
As delicious as it was, they both struggled through dinner, the washing up and the hour on the sofa before it was time for bed. Neither had made any mention of their desires, both just hoping that they wouldn't be put through the agonies of another chaste night.