I've been re-watching the episodes of series 3 lately, IMHO, something has to happen between Ruth and Harry if he survives 4:10! (pretty please!) there's just too much chemistry for it to fizzle into nothingness! lol. What can I say about this chapter besides that it's rather fluffy and light, nothing too serious. Everyone needs a break sometimes :). Oh, also - my apologies if I've got Ruth's job description totally wrong in this, I can't quite figure out what her title is! lol. Please R&R - all comments greatly appreciated!

Chapter 3

Harry's sleepy eyes opened in surprise when he saw the identity of his visitor, but it wasn't because he was surprised to see her there. It was because of the reaction her presence caused in him. As soon as he woke from his slumber, he saw a pair of worried, warm blue eyes looking at him, and oddly, he felt safe and at home almost instantly. It was as though waking up with Ruth beside him, all be it sitting on the very edge of a visitor's chair beside his hospital bed, was the most natural thing in the world.

"Ruth" he smiled. Ruth smiled back and let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding.

"sorry, did I wake you? It sounded like you were dreaming" she said softly

"dreaming?" Harry asked lightly, recalling once again being held captive by a faceless giant looking over him, wearing a mask and holding a gun to his head, whilst Ruth stood on the other side of an invisible barrier just out of his reach screaming. He shifted in his bed, feeling uncomfortable that she had possibly overheard one of his re-occurring nightmares. They seemed to appear every time he closed his eyes these days.

"well, possibly. You were muttering something, but.. Anyway. How are you?" Ruth changed the subject, trying to get away from the embarrassing situation she'd found herself in. She'd heard Harry mumbling something that sounded like 'don't hurt her' in his sleep and had instinctively reached for his hand as it lay on the mattress by his side to comfort him. Just afterwards, Harry had stirred and she'd removed her hand as though she'd been holding it over a flame. Now she was fighting off the colour rising in her cheeks and Harry was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Did he know?

"I, um...I'm feeling like I've been shot actually" Harry said after a while, sitting up in his bed and reaching for a glass of water on the side cupboard.

"I saw it happening Harry, none of us can believe it" Ruth watched Harry raise his eyebrows over the rim of the glass.

"Such a staggering u-turn took my by surprise too actually" he said, once he'd finished drinking. Ruth noticed that Harry had, either intentionally or not, dropped his defences slightly. She hoped this wasn't a sign of what Adam had mentioned earlier about him feeling responsible.

"Harry, you do know that this wasn't your fault don't you?" she asked, forcing herself not to once again take his hand in her own.

"I can't help but feel responsible Ruth, how can I not?" he sighed, surprising himself at his honesty and lack of concern about what Ruth would think of him for it.

"Harry, Adam is ok. He'll be out of hospital soon and as I hear, so will you be. The um, problem, has been taken care of - it's just a matter of taking Juliet down from her little peddle stool and putting her safely back in her box and then we can all move on from this" she was asking without directly asking, for Harry to believe in the confidence she had in him, and to be strong. Harry didn't miss the request and smiled.

"And I can always count on your support, can't I Ruth?" he don't know what made him do it, perhaps it was the sudden rush of warmth he'd felt at her words, perhaps it was the fact that just her being here made him actually feel stronger, maybe he was still drugged up on painkillers, but whatever it was that made him do it, Harry found himself reaching for Ruth's hand, and squeezing it in his. Ruth smiled widely and looked directly into Harry's eyes, pleased to simply be able to see them again.

"Yes, Harry. You can. Always."

Harry sat on his reclining chair, leg stretched out in front of him and a glass of scotch in his hand. He'd been released from hospital that afternoon and he was planning on having an easy evening before venturing back into the arena tomorrow morning. He'd be damned if he was going to sit around and do nothing, waiting for Juliet and her bunch of vultures to come and pick him to pieces. Ruth was right, he had to sort her out and move on with his job. Stopping terrorism was what he was good at and no dodgy knee or beast in a pin striped tailored suit was going to stop him.

Ruth.

His mind lazily produced images of her as he thought back to the last few days. She'd come to visit and made him feel stronger than any drug had managed. She'd reassured him that she'd always be there for him. He'd taken the step that had allowed them to cross that boundary. And now they were back in the real world. In hospital, he'd been Harry Peterson and she had been Ruth Eaton, normal people with normal lives. It was ok for them to open up to one another, confront feelings that they had both been hiding away. It was ok for Ruth to lean over and gently touch Harry's face, or for Harry to finally tell her just how much he adored it when she babbled nervously. They weren't real people when they were in that hospital room. Now though, they were back to being Harry and Ruth, boss and employee, head of MI-5 and superstar data analyst. Would this…could this tentative budding relationship survive the harsh realities of their existence? Harry put down the untouched glass of scotch and reached a conclusion simultaneously. He wasn't sure whether their relationship could survive, but he for one wasn't going to let it go without a very hard fight. He stood up gingerly and picked up the phone. Half an hour, as he watched Ruth's blurry outline grow bigger in the stained glass of her front door, he was sure that he'd made the right decision. The next morning as they headed to Thames House via Harry's for a change of clothes, he was absolutely positive. He'd also had a nightmare-free sleep for the first time in weeks.