Disclaimer: Spooks and all it's characters belong to Kudos and the BBC.

Author's Note: I hope everyone had a great Christmas and New Year.
Sorry that it's taken me so long to up date this, but its here at long last.
Please Read & Review! (Edited on the 6th of July 2006 to make it easier to read)

White Night Fantasy – Chapter Two

Time seemed to dawdle, almost as if she were watching a film in slow motion. Ruth let out a breath that she hadn't even realised she was holding. She blinked, rapidly, several times. It must have looked like she was having a fit, but even that thought couldn't stop her from doing so.

At least her face was blissfully void of emotion. Harry, so usually clam and collected, fought very hard to keep his expression blank. But the shock was plain to see in his eyes.
If Mark hadn't have moved, Ruth doubted either of them would have given him another glance. They both looked to him expectantly, waiting for an explanation. He squirmed uncomfortably under the weight of their gaze, dropping his eyes to the floor. Embarrassment never was one of Mark's strong points.

He started to say something when the hallway was filled with Grace's high pitched voice. "John!" She practically ran down the hall in her pink stiletto heels to embrace him. "I haven't seen you in ages. That husband of mine really should invite you over more often."

If Harry felt uncomfortable hugging the twenty something red head with her candy colour dress, then he didn't look it. Ruth felt the first twinge of jealousy raising its ugly head. She had no right to be, she knew that. But it still bothered her to see Grace fling herself at Harry.

Grace turned that charming, if not slightly insane smile on Ruth. "Have you two met?" she asked, gesturing between them.

Harry hesitated for a second, sending a quick glance towards Ruth. "No," he said, simply, shaking his head. "We haven't."

Ruth closed her eyes and exhaled sharply. She couldn't believe he was playing the game. But then again, it was almost all they knew.

Grace's smile seemed to brighten, though it may just have been a trick of light. She wrapped her arms around Mark and stepped into him, giving them enough room. Mark flicked between the two of them, frowning, slightly puzzled.

"This is Sharon," the red head said with pure delight. "We used to work together. Sharon, John."

Ruth could feel the corners of her mouth tugging up into yet another tense smile. Anymore and her jaw would start to creak. It always happened when she was nervous, that and babbling uncontrollably. She extended her hand to him, fully aware that she looked like a clown. All the time trying to tell herself that it was just a hand shake, nothing more. Though something in her didn't quite buy that.

She met his gaze at the same time as their hands touched. Ruth fought to breathe past the lump in her throat. She didn't think that she smile could become more strained than it already was, she'd been wrong. Her whole body ached with tension; she could feel it marching up and down her arm. Their hands parted quickly, if not reluctantly. Leaving behind the memory of pressure and the feel of his skin.

"Pleasure," Harry said softly.

She balled her hand into a fist, cursing herself for being effected like this. She managed a slight nod in reply.

The tension as thick as liquid. Mark clapped his hands together, the sharp noise in the silence sounded like a gun shot. Ruth physically jumped at the sound. "Right," he said, struggling to at least sound cheerful. "Drinkes anyone?"

xxx

The false smile had started wear thin, he could see that even from across the room. He could only imagine what conversation she was being subjected to. She raised her glass to her lips, just wetting them with alcohol. Harry made himself turn away, to try and focus on what in the hell Mark was raving incessantly about. Something about Grace's taste in Christmas decorations no doubt. No matter how much he concentrated, he found himself trying to catch a glimpse of her in the mirror or by simply turning to look at her.

Maybe it was the red of her dress that set her features off so splendidly. She hardly ever wore such bold colours to work; it made her stand out too much. But tonight that didn't seem to matter. She looked like a candle in a coal mine.

It was terrible tradecraft, and Harry knew it. He would have chastised anyone of his officers for such neglect for procedure. Others were bound to notice, if they hadn't already.
"She won't disappear if you take your eyes off of her, you know." It was the first thing that Harry had actually heard from Mark all night.

"What?" he asked, rather defensively.

Mark couldn't quite stop himself from smiling. "Ruth," he said, lowering his voice so no one besides the two of them would hear. "You've been keeping an eye on her all night."

Harry could have tried to deny any knowledge of what his friend was talking about, but what would be the point?

"You're not her boss tonight, Harry. Just be yourself, please."

But that was the problem. While they were at work, their relationship was strictly professional or as close to it as was humanly possible. Tonight they were supposed to be themselves, no history, no work, just themselves. It could lead to more problems than it solved.

Harry felt movement at his back a moment before their hands touched. A tiny amount of pressure being applied and soft skin. She brushed past him, almost completely oblivious to his presence. Except for that spilt second when the tips of her fingers stroked his. She turned her head just enough to look at him out of the corner of her eye, her cheeks slightly flushed.

He almost jumped out of his skin when Mark clapped his arm around Harry's shoulder. "The night is still young," he said, sipping the expensive whiskey. "You never know what will happen."

Harry nodded, slightly, eyebrow raised. "My thoughts exactly."

To Be Continued...