On Saturday morning Ruth awoke first. Her face burst into happiness as she saw him, but she didn't wake him. It was his first night back in their house, so he deserved his sleep. "I know," Ruth said under her breath as she felt a thump by her ribcage. "I'm getting breakfast, don't worry." She got out of bed and threw her dressing gown over herself before going downstairs and putting two slices of bread in the toaster. There was a huge pile of newspapers on the kitchen table. Harry liked having them delivered but Ruth hadn't had the leisure time to read them. So, by the time Harry came downstairs, Ruth had the table completely covered as she caught up on things that had passed her by while she was so focused on Harry.
He smiled at the sight she made and kissed her slowly. "Morning."
"Hi," she replied, folding the paper away. "So what baby names were you thinking?"
"That would be telling," he said as he made himself some coffee.
"I'm the mother, I will find out eventually," Ruth said blankly.
"I know, but I don't want you to just say no straight away."
"You've used my favourite name anyway," Ruth said easily. "Catherine," she added at the look on his face. "I liked Catherine for a baby girl. Can't use that now."
"Well, that means we have similar tastes at least," Harry said. "Charlotte?" Ruth said nothing but wrinkled her nose. "Okay, you clearly don't like that one."
"Sorry," she said. "I should have hid that better."
"Lucy."
"I like that," she said swiftly. He stared at her with disbelief. "I do," she added. "I've thought of Lucy on my own. I also thought Charlie, but I know you wouldn't like a girl called Charlie."
"You're right. I wouldn't. Maybe for a boy."
"No, I like… James."
"James," Harry repeated, testing the word in his mouth. "Mm, James. That sounds good."
"So Lucy or James," Ruth surmised. "Did we really agree so quickly?"
"I'm just relieved I'm not coming home to suggestions like Dionysus."
Ruth laughed. "I think naming a child after the Greek God of wine sends the wrong message."
"Maybe," he agreed happily. "I love you. Forgot to mention it last night."
"We were busy with other things," Ruth said, a slight blush staining her cheeks. "And I love you too. When are you coming back to Thames House?"
"Not for a month," he said.
"A month?!"
"Edwards needs to work out his temporary contract," Harry said. "How is my replacement?"
"An alcoholic," Ruth said sharply. "He doesn't care about anything other than the high salary packet he's getting."
"Ah well, you might look forward to getting me back then," he said.
"Actually… I've been thinking," Ruth said tentatively. "I don't want to be a working mother. When the baby comes, I want to be home with him or her. I don't want to be leaving every morning and not coming home until dark."
"I'm surprised," he said. "I thought you'd want to continue."
"Part of me does," she admitted. "But I think I'll regret it. With time."
"I'm not going to argue with you," he said. "I am going to ask you to think about it."
"Harry!" Ruth said suddenly, her tone changing completely.
"What's wrong?" he asked urgently.
"The baby's kicking," she said. Harry rushed over to her and put his hand on her stomach. Nothing. "Oh come on little one. Do it for your daddy." Still nothing. He was about to move his hand away, but Ruth clutched it to her stomach. "Wait. There." Harry did feel it that time. He smiled, feeling tears prick the corner of his eyes. The movement subsided and Harry took his hand back.
"Does she kick often?"
"Yes," Ruth said. "I'm sorry you missed the first time."
"So am I," he agreed fervently.
"You can be the first one to hold her," Ruth said. "I think I'll probably be exhausted anyway."
"You mean that?"
"Yes," she said. "I'll be too afraid that I'm going to drop her."
"You won't drop our daughter," Harry said. "You'll be a fantastic mother." He took a sip of his coffee and the smile froze on his face. "That's disgusting!"
"Decaf," she said. "Sorry, I should have warned you. Even the smell of the real stuff makes me feel sick."
"I'll not say a word of complaint against it then," he said dignified as he drank some more of the coffee. Ruth smiled at him and wondered when she had last felt this contented and happy.
On Sunday morning Ruth awoke to a loud bang followed quickly by some swearing. She reached across the bed for Harry and wasn't that surprised to find the bed empty and cold. She got up in search of him, quickly finding him in the study, looking as if he'd been attacked by a paper factory. "Stupid piece of… Oh. Did I wake you? Sorry."
"Its okay," she said quietly. "What are you doing?"
"Sorting out my papers," he said. "Most of its classified so it'll need to be burnt. I can't just throw it away, that's that pile by the door." Ruth looked, noting that it was the size of a five year old child. "And that's the pile of things I need to keep." That particular pile was about half an inch thick. Ruth smiled at him.
"You're taking this seriously aren't you?"
"Well, our little mite needs somewhere to sleep," Harry said. "And I'm damned if she's sleeping with us. It would be nice, but the thought of not being able to have sex with you… Well, I thought I'd do her room."
"Do you want some help?" she asked quietly, loving her gentle and caring fiancé. A side he so rarely showed to anyone else.
"Yes actually," he said. "You can go downstairs, have some breakfast and put your feet up. Take things easy for our girl."
"Harry, you are not painting this room pink," she said firmly. "It will be a unisex colour because I don't want to saddle a baby boy with a pink nursery or vice versa. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, no pink," he agreed. "Yellow?"
"What baby boy would want a yellow room?" Ruth asked. "And green for a girl sounds wrong too."
"What colour would you want it?" he asked, guessing that referring to the hormonal pregnant one would be best in this instance.
"Creams and whites," she said. "Yes, I know its boring, but it's the safest bet."
"Do you want to find out the gender of the baby?" Harry asked. "I know you were waiting until I came home… But do you want to?"
"No," she said, a warm smile making her glow. "I don't. I've liked living in ignorant bliss. Do you?"
"I don't mind," he said honestly. "Fine. Creams and whites it is. But I insist on adding to it when the little one's born. She might have an old and over the hill father, but I am not going to be boring."
"You're not old," she said firmly. "And yes, that sounds good." She reached for him through the mountains of paperwork and kissed him good morning. "Do you want any toast?"
"I've eaten," he said. "I wanted to get started on this."
"I'll leave you to it then," Ruth said easily. "Love you."
"Love both of you," Harry replied. Ruth smiled and went downstairs, careful not to trip over Fidget who was winding between her legs.
"Have you fed the animals?" she called back.
"No," she heard his muffled voice shout. "Scarlet's ignoring me and I don't go near your devil of a cat."
"Come on then," Ruth said kindly. "Lets get you some food." The cat meowed because he knew what was coming and Ruth smiled to see Scarlet waiting by her food bowl. Yes, at the moment life was good.
Several months later.
"Harry," Ruth whispered at about two in the morning. No reaction. "Harry!" she hissed.
"Mm, go back to sleep darling," he murmured in her ear, wrapping an arm around her beach ball sized stomach.
"I can't," she said, keeping her voice calm. "I think I'm in labour."
"No," he said dreamily. "No you're not, you're only eight months pregnant."
"I know that," she replied. "But I'm feeling contractions. We need to get me to a hospital." That made him sit up and blink at her blearily.
"But… are you sure?"
"No, I'm not sure," Ruth said, still with patience. "I've never been in labour before so I have nothing to compare it to. But if I'm not in labour, then something is definitely wrong with the baby. Its… abnormal otherwise. Calm down," she added after a moment, seeing the panic behind his eyes. "Babies born at thirty seven weeks are very likely to be healthy. It'll be alright." She'd done her research and knew this, she wasn't saying it just to calm him down.
"Okay," he said, breathing heavily. "I'll get you to the hospital."
"Don't look so worried," she said. "It was going to happen eventually."
"I know," he said, pulling some clothes on quickly. "I just. I had three and a half weeks to prepare for this. We haven't even unpacked the car seat yet."
"Can we focus on getting the baby out of me, and then worry about car seats?" Ruth said, before gritting her teeth as she felt another contraction.
"Yes. Right," Harry said, giving himself a little shake. "Come on."
"I'm not going to the hospital like this," Ruth said. "Help me put some clothes on."
"Ruth, is that really the most important thing?" he asked, exasperated. The glare on her face told him that he better help her get dressed or he'd be in deep trouble with a woman in labour. "Fine, I'll help you get dressed." He did, and then helped her to the car. Then he broke every speed limit in London, trying to get her to the hospital as soon as possible.
"Harry, dying in a car crash isn't on my to do list," she said as he jumped a red traffic light. "I'm not in imminent danger of giving birth in your car. Its not necessary to give me a heart attack with your driving speed!"
"I'm worried about you," he said. "I have no idea what to do with a woman in labour."
"No, but you have quite a good idea what to do with a woman to get her pregnant don't you?" she teased.
Harry flushed but didn't say anything. Instead he turned left into the hospital car park, relieved he'd got there. "Lets get you inside."
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