Appearances and Other Deceits Pt II

A/N: Continuation of the story thus far, taking place almost instantly after the first chapter. Reviews, criticisms and accolades (smirk) most welcome.

Harry continued to make idle chit chat with some of the others on the table but was unable to keep his gaze from drifting over to Ruth every couple of minutes. She looked fantastic and try as he might no super spy training could keep his eyes off of her. It wasn't even as though he hadn't seen her in a dress before. Somehow though those rare work occasions that called for them all to be dragged along to those black tie nightmares just couldn't compare. They had been for work, dressy occasions that almost always turned out to be inevitably dull.

Here, now, she looked radiant. Amongst people he could only assume were her friends she appeared utterly relaxed and happy. It was a relief to see her joking and laughing with them over banal things. A knot of worry he hadn't realised he'd been carrying around suddenly eased. It was a tension that he'd been carrying around ever since Danny's death and now all at once it was gone. He knew now that she'd be all right, that she already was all right. He'd been worrying without even realising it all this time.

Their eyes met across the table for a moment before she turned back to talk to the host. Harry wracked his mind for all the details he knew about the Legend she was using, not that he was supposed to know anything about her. But the surprise of seeing her there in the first place had been enough to make him long for an utterly uneventful rest of the evening.

Truth be told she'd looked as shocked as he'd felt.

Standing there, her arm looped through the host's, and staring wide eyed at him across the table. But she covered it well, smiling thinly and turning back to joke with her friend. Her glances gave her away though. The way her gaze kept finding its way back to him across the table. She wanted to know what he was doing there and the sudden thought that she might think he was spying on her was a worrying one.

Dave and he talked about inconsequential things. He sipped his scotch. He chatted to a couple of the others. Passed the time and all the while caught unobtrusive glimpses of what Ruth was doing and worried about what she thought. But she seemed so happy here that he was actually glad to see her even though he couldn't really say anything.

Suddenly the decision was made. He needed another drink. A strong one if he was to survive the evening and keep up the pretence. Standing he picked up his glass, asked if anyone else wanted a refill and headed off to find the kitchen.


Standing with one shoulder against the door frame Ruth watched as Harry moved awkwardly about the kitchen. It was painfully obvious that he didn't have a clue where anything was, which told her he hadn't been to the house often before. Shifting slightly to her other foot she wondered if she should say anything. The temptation was there to leave him hanging, guessing at what she thought of the whole situation. From the way he'd been discreetly watching her earlier she'd guessed he'd been trying to gauge her reaction to the whole thing. But there had been something else there was well, something that made her smile.

"They're friends of David's wife."

"Oh." Ruth answered, looking up to see Harry watching her from where he stood on the opposite side of the kitchen counter.

"She couldn't make it and I was drafted in for moral support. I'm told I need only stay for an hour or so." Harry explained with a wan smile. "So, Rachel, do you come here often?"

Ruth smiled at the cliché and shrugged. "Not as often as I'd like, John. My boss keeps me fairly busy. Work always has to come first."

"He sounds like quite the slave driver."

"He has his good points."

"Really?" Harry grinned. "And what might those be?"

"Well," Ruth began. She shifted uncomfortably, embarrassed and unsure of what to say now she'd gotten herself into trouble. Emboldened by the wine she pushed on. "He paces. But only in a good way."

Harry chuckled and with a rueful shake of his head commented, "I didn't know there was a good way to pace. You'll have to show me how it's done sometime. For now though, can I get you another drink? If I can ever find the drink that is."

Taking pity on him, and smiling all the while, Ruth stepped in to lend a hand. She stepped around him and opened up the cupboard where the clean glasses were kept pulling out a fresh glass for them both. The ice was in the sink being used up faster than it could melt so she scooped up some for his scotch and set about finding some bottles that hadn't been drained already. When she turned around Harry was smiling, a half-full bottle of red wine in hand and looking pleased with himself.

"Well done." Ruth said as she claimed the wine from him, "There should be a bottle of scotch in the cupboard there. I can't promise it'll be the best stuff in the world mind."

"This one?" Harry asked as he opened a cupboard not to find drink but rows of cans of beans and Fimble shaped pasta.

Ruth laughed and shook her head, reaching across him to the next cupboard along. "No, this one." It was only after she'd actually opened the cupboard that she caught the predicament she was in. Stretched out, one hand resting on the countertop and the other holding open the cupboard door, she was close enough to feel the material of his jacket scratch against her dress. Her gaze drifted down to rest somewhere at the base of his throat, unable to look up and catch his eye.

Neither one of them moved. Harry's hand was resting on the counter a hair's breadth away from her own. Her skin crawled, the feel of his fingers so close yet not touching making her itch to close the gap, straining without moving. Ruth fought down a shiver of excitement and a blush that threatened to overwhelm her. She'd almost put it out of mind completely, this thing that lay between them. With all that had happened over the last few months it'd been easy to push it far, far out of mind. And where she had not been at work Harry had been far out of sight as well.

But now, standing so close it was impossible to push her feelings aside. She was sure he felt it also. The electricity, the heat that seemed to pass almost physically between them whenever they were alone together. It was such a bad idea though, he was her boss and there was a line that really shouldn't be crossed.

Clearing his throat it was Harry that broke the silence. "Perhaps we should pour that drink?" Still he didn't move though. Not that he could, with his back to the counter and Ruth stood right in front of him there was no where to go without physically moving Ruth out of the way. It was at that point that she jumped back as though she'd been bitten.

Her cheeks felt unnaturally hot as Ruth braved a glance at Harry to see him watching her still. His gaze was dark and heavy. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest to see it. With a weak smile she nodded and fumbled at the counter to find the glasses.

But then all thought was thrust aside again as Harry stepped up behind her and murmured in her ear. "Let's go find a quite corner and get very drunk." And then he was gone. Walking back toward the garden with a half empty bottle of wine in one hand and a bottle of cheap scotch in the other.