After a few times over these last weeks, Ruth had gotten used to this new way of entering Thames House. She went through security and presented her identification and told the officer who she was there to see. A call was put through to Harry or, if he wasn't there, to Erin, and Ruth was escorted to the lift and sent down to Section D. Erin usually greeted her at the pods. Dimitri, if he was there, would say hello. It was nice to be a small part of the Grid without being in the trenches and subject to its horrors.

Harry specifically never met Ruth at the door. He waited in his office and watched her through the window. She would either make her way to his office to meet with him or else he would join her with Erin in the briefing room after they'd gotten settled. After all, he would not wait by the door for any other bureaucrat. Harry knew very well that he mustn't be seen to treat Ruth any different, not by anyone else or Ruth herself. But of course Ruth was different. Ruth was very different.

Even now, seeing her walk through the pods and smile at Erin, Harry got a pang in his chest. No other bureaucrat did that. No other person did that. Seeing her more often now and working with her again and knowing she was going back home to Andrew Portow was some sort of torture. But even so, he got to see her. He got to work with her. He got to have her in his office sitting across his desk like old times. He got to listen to her think faster than she could talk sometimes. He got to benefit from her organizational skills and her analytical mind. And more than anything, he got to just be with her. It hurt more to be close to her than when she was far away, but it was a hurt he wouldn't give up for anything.

He caught her eye through the window and nodded in acknowledgment of her presence. She looked very pretty today. Well, Harry always thought she looked pretty. But she was dressed in a deep purple dress that was cut very modestly but showed off the beautiful curves of her body. Very polished. He still could not quite get used to it on her. Though perhaps it was easier for her to be polished when she didn't spend every waking moment working on the Grid. She had time to sleep and dress and shop unlike before. Perhaps this elegance had always been lurking beneath those loose patterned tops and those long flowing skirts and those dark cardigans she'd wrapped around her like a security blanket. He missed those things, strangely. But it did not escape Harry's notice that while she looked polished and elegant now, she also looked happier. Without him, she was happier.

Ruth entered Harry's office without knocking. Always without knocking. "Hi, Harry. I've got that last report for you," she said, sitting down and opening her bag to take a file out.

Harry watched her without a word. She did this sometimes, just went off on whatever her mind was focused on. He didn't mind. He was never much one for pleasantries.

She handed him the stack of pages across the desk. He took them from her and their fingers brushed. Ruth felt herself gasp slightly and saw the way Harry's gazed snapped up to meet her eyes. Time froze. Again. It did that sometimes with him. A quiet moment in the middle of something entirely unrelated to whatever else they were in the middle of. Ruth wanted to hate it, but she couldn't. She craved these moments. These small moments when everything was quiet and everything was alright between them. Did he know? Could he hear the way her heart clamored for him? Had he forgiven her for the unbearable hurt she'd caused him over and over and over? Would he ever find a way to trust her enough to give them another try? And even if he did, could either of them possibly believe that Ruth would not run again?

The phone rang and made them both jump. Ruth snatched her hand back and felt her heart thundering in her chest.

"Just a moment, Ruth," Harry apologized, picking up the receiver. He looked at the keypad on the phone as he barked, "Pearce." He begged his mind to focus on the call, to ignore that Ruth was there for the moment, to pretend that his entire being was not screaming out for her.

Ruth waited as he spoke to whoever had called. Strictly speaking, he shouldn't be taking calls while she was in his office. She did not have proper clearance for such things anymore. But she could tell based on his side of the conversation that he was approving the finalized plans for this trip.

This operation reminded her of Havensworth in a lot of ways. Weeks of preparation on the Grid and working with the Home Office and Foreign Office for the visit of foreign dignitaries and providing security for the event to ensure that the politicians were free to do their dealings without fear of attack. Havensworth obviously had not worked out as planned, never mind the unforgettable and heartbreaking experience Ruth and Harry had there between them.

But there would be no Diaspora this time, Malcolm's genius tech to track and record every person by their mobile. The rooms were all bugged undetectably by Calum and his team. Ruth's office had provided incredible intel by working with her contacts at Six and through the various consulates and embassies. The last report they'd been waiting on about every detail of the dignitaries' entourages was now sitting on Harry's desk. Ruth knew he'd read the whole thing, but there were a few items she wanted to highlight for him. And so she would wait. After all, he left for Reading tomorrow.

Reading was an odd choice in Ruth's mind, though so had Havensworth Hotel. The government seemed to like doing things like this in the quiet countryside but not too far from London. Reading was only about an hour's drive. If it weren't for this long weekend of constant vigilance, Ruth would have guessed that Harry would just stay home and drive in during the days.

"Sorry about that," Harry said, hanging up the phone. He was pleased to feel the tension dissipate from the room. The distraction had been sufficient to put them back on track.

"That's alright," she replied. "Everything set at the hotel?"

He nodded. "Yes, just verifying the room assignments." Harry tried to stifle a sudden yawn but did not quite manage it, putting his hand over his wide mouth.

Ruth let out a puff of air that was almost a laugh. "Are you getting enough sleep, Harry?" she asked teasingly.

"Probably not."

"All those women of yours keeping you up late?" It hurt her to even say the words, but she had to do something to remind herself about truth of their situation. Harry was catting around town, and she would do well to keep that in mind. He was not sitting alone at home pining for her. It was pathetic and uncharitable to imagine he was.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, not anymore. I've given up all that."

"I find that hard to believe."

"What I mean is that I'm not sleeping with a dozen different women anymore. I've actually only gone out once since I got the dog. I'd rather spend my time at home with her. And I don't want to leave her alone any longer than necessary. Besides, I'm far too old for all of that," he grumbled.

"I don't know that you're too far over the hill," she noted softly.

"I'm old, Ruth," he insisted.

"You're sixty years old, Harry."

He frowned. "How do you know that?"

Ruth gave a small smile. "I planned a surprise party on the Grid when you turned fifty. It's stuck with me. And even when I'm not in London, I always remember your birthday," she confessed. "I got back to London only a couple months after you turned sixty. Did you have a nice time?"

Harry shrugged, trying not to think too hard about the idea that Ruth remembered his birthday. That she always remembered his birthday. "I didn't do anything," he said, answering her question. "No one here knew it was my birthday, let alone my sixtieth. It was just a usual day. Malcolm and Catherine each sent me a card."

"That was all?"

"Nothing else needed. Malcolm did come to the city a few weeks after and took me out for a rather nice dinner to celebrate. And Catherine came over for Christmas. That was nice."

"Good, I'm glad," Ruth told him. And she meant it. She wished so much that he was happier, that he had more joy and love in his life. He was such a good man and he deserved better. But Ruth knew him better than that. Nothing he'd told her about his sixtieth birthday surprised her in the least. Though she was pleased that his daughter seemed to be at least a small part of his life. That boded well for him.

"Enough about me," he said, brushing off this strangely personal moment between them. "What am I looking for in this report?" Harry held up the huge stack of papers she'd given him.

"Yes, right. But one more thing…"

"Oh what?" he snapped.

She glared slightly, chiding him for that tone with her. "I wanted to ask what you're doing with your dog while you're away."

Harry felt properly chastised for being curt. That was a very kind, caring question for her to ask. "I was going to board her at a kennel while I'm gone."

"Oh."

"What's wrong with that?" he demanded, not liking her disappointed tone over his plan for Ruthie.

She answered quickly, "No, nothing's wrong, I was just going to offer to watch her for you. But if you've got it all in hand, that's fine."

"Really?"

"Really what?"

"You'd want to watch Ruthie?"

"Well she's a sweet dog and she gets along well with Smock. And I don't live too far from you, so she could go on walks in the same neighborhood still. You've only just got her and I just wouldn't like the idea of her worrying you're abandoning her," Ruth reasoned.

If Harry Pearce did not possess nearly inhuman levels of self-control, he might have leapt up and kissed her. Ruth offering to watch his dog because she didn't want the dog to be traumatized was just the sweetest thing Harry had possibly ever heard in his life. The kindness of Ruth's heart was unending and still somehow surprised him. "That would be really wonderful," he finally conceded. "I'll pack up all her things and write out some instructions for you. And I'll leave a key to my house with the Thames House security for you to pick up tomorrow after you get finished with your workday so you can get Ruthie and everything."

"You don't mind me being in your house alone?" she asked in surprise.

Harry gave her a funny sort of look. "Why would I mind?"

She opened her mouth to give him a reason, but she quickly stopped herself. She would gratefully accept this gesture of faith from him. Ruth just gave a small nod. "Thanks."

He added, "Just make sure Andrew Portow doesn't go anywhere near my house."

Ruth was slightly taken aback by the mention of Andrew, but considering Harry had likely been under the impression that she was involved with the Head of Section X, his request was not unreasonable at all. "No," she assured him, "that's all over. It wasn't really...anything, actually. But it's, well, finished."

"Oh." Harry could contemplate that later. He would pore over those words and try in vain to discern some meaning from them.

"I'll make sure Ruthie's alright while you're away," Ruth said, bringing him back to the proper subject.

"Yes, I know you will," he replied softly.

Another quiet moment settled over them, but Ruth stopped it from going too far. "Right, so the report…"

Harry snapped to attention and they set to work without any further distractions of birthdays or dogs or housekeys or anything else.