Harry stayed on the Grid later than was absolutely necessary. But he didn't want to go home to an empty house. He slept there last in anticipation of killing Nicholas Blake. It seemed like so long ago, now. And it was somehow an entire lifetime ago that they had attended Ros's funeral and Ruth had accepted his marriage proposal. If he had gone home with Ruth tonight, he would have wanted to take the engagement off that chain around her neck—perhaps after he'd stripped her down to wearing nothing but that—and put the ring back on her finger.
He sighed to himself, taking another drink of scotch as he looked out onto the darkness of the Grid. Everyone was gone. He'd watched Ruth and Beth leave. Lucas was already gone. The skeleton staff was off doing whatever it was that they did when there wasn't an active operation for Section D. It was yet more proof to Harry Pearce that this was the one place in the world where he truly belonged. He felt comfortable here regardless of the circumstances. This was his domain.
Eventually, however, Harry knew he had to make a move. Tomorrow was another day. There would be some fallout to deal with regarding Abib and the failed attack on the Houses of Parliament. And there was a report on his desk from the analysts about an oil magnate that he'd need to review and determine whether his team needed to get involved.
All of that was for tomorrow. For now, it was time he headed home. Time for a hot shower and a few hours of rest in his own bed, even if he did have to sleep in it by himself for the foreseeable future.
Professionally, Harry was pleased with Lucas's foresight to have Beth supervised by one of their own. Putting her in Ruth's spare room was an elegant solution to the lingering suspicion over Miss Bailey's motives. Personally, however, Harry was exceedingly frustrated. He meant what he had told Ruth, that at least they'd had last night together and they'd find time to be together again eventually. Even so, it was rather disheartening to know that he'd been able to take Ruth to bed at last and they'd not be able to repeat that glorious experience anytime soon. Harry had gotten to fall asleep with her in his arms and wake up beside her, and now he was spoiled.
He felt bad for having his driver take him home so late at night, but there was no helping it; Harry hadn't driven his own car to Thames House. It was nice, though, to not have to worry about driving when he was exhausted like this. He was able to let his mind wander back to Ruth and the magical night they'd shared together. Harry smiled the whole way home. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done that. He couldn't remember if he had ever done that.
Harry had just gotten inside and reset the security system when the phone rang. If it was work-related, his mobile would be ringing. This was his home phone. And there was only a small handful of people who had that number. He quickly answered it. "Pearce," he said. His voice sounded weary to his own ears. He'd not intended that tone. How disappointing.
"I hope I didn't wake you."
A smile spread involuntarily over his face. "No, darling, I just walked in the door."
"Why?" Ruth asked. "You finished an hour ago, didn't you?"
"I stayed on the Grid with a glass of scotch," he told her.
"But why?"
"Because I wasn't looking forward to going home all on my own. Better to unwind on the Grid so I shower and get right into bed when I get home," Harry explained.
Ruth paused on the line, obviously trying to decide what to say.
"I do this rather often, Ruth, it's nothing to be concerned about," he added.
"Were you planning on taking me home with you tonight?" she asked, changing the subject.
"I had hoped so, yes. But in the grand scheme of things, my wanting to hold you in my arms is unimportant compared to ensuring our newest officer is properly looked after."
She hummed. "I am sorry about that. I obviously didn't ask for this. The timing's a bit rubbish."
"I think we've accepted the fact that the timing is always going to be a bit rubbish for us, Ruth," he told her softly.
"I suppose so," she conceded. "Though I don't think that means we have to like it."
Harry chuckled. He didn't really want to indulge in complaining about their circumstance. There was nothing to be done for it. After all, proper integration and monitoring of Beth Bailey was more important that Harry and Ruth's sex life. "How are things on your end?" he asked, since Beth was on his mind.
"Fine," Ruth answered. "I gave Beth a short tour. Any tour has to be short, obviously, since there's only the two bedrooms and bathrooms along with the living room and kitchen, as you know. We had some leftovers since neither of us has eaten anything in recent memory."
"Did you make a pie for her?" Harry asked.
"No, you're the only one I'll do that for," she replied. He could hear the smile in her voice.
"Where's Beth now?"
"In her room, getting settled. I took the phone into my room so I could check in on you."
Harry got a warm feeling in his chest at that. "I'm just fine, Ruth. You don't need to check up on me."
"I might not need to, but I want to," she said.
"Then I am a very lucky man for that," he said quietly.
Ruth then informed him, "I've put my ring back on."
"Did you?" The thought that she had done that made him feel quite happy indeed.
"Yes," she said. "I'll put it back on the chain for work tomorrow, but I wanted it on my finger while I can. That's where it belongs, after all."
"I quite agree. Have you given any thought to when and how you'd like to tell people?" Harry asked.
"I'm not sure. It'll be harder to keep it secret now that I've got a flatmate. But I was thinking earlier, I don't think either of us really want Beth to be the first person we tell."
"Neither of us have any family anymore," Harry though aloud. "Other than my children, but telling them is an entirely different discussion. As for the rest of the world, what would you say to inviting Malcom over sometime?"
"Oh Harry, that would be wonderful. He should be the first to know. I think he'd be really happy for us."
"I agree. And I would like him to be best man at our wedding, whenever we get to it."
"Also an entirely different discussion," she added.
"It is, yes. But you agree that we should tell Malcolm first?"
"Yes. We should tell him first. When, do you think?"
"Barring emergencies, I think next weekend might be a good time. I can email him and ask if he'd be willing to come to London and meet us for dinner on Saturday. How does that sound?"
"Perfect. I'm looking forward to getting to see him again. And to having him in our wedding party. I suppose that means I'll have to find a maid of honor."
Harry was about to tease her about that until he remembered that she did not have a single female friend now living and part of their lives. Zoe Reynolds was living a new life in Argentina. Sam Buxton had left the Service years ago. Fiona and Jo and Ros were all dead. None of Ruth's family knew she was alive again, as far as Harry knew. She didn't have anyone. And really, all Harry had was Malcolm. He didn't fare a whole lot better.
Ruth continued thinking aloud on the subject. "As pathetic as it is, I think you're my only friend, Harry. Everyone else is either dead or thinks I'm dead."
"Perhaps Beth Bailey will prove an exemplary flatmate and a new friend," Harry suggested with false optimism. Beth Bailey was not the sort to really engage in interpersonal friendships on ay real level, so far as Harry could tell. Private security bred the sort of distrustful loners just as much as the Service did. Beth's way just paid better.
"Maybe. She does seem rather friendly, though in her line of work, charisma would certainly play well. I'm not quite sure about her yet."
"Nor am I," Harry agreed. "And Lucas certainly isn't. But I stand by my decision to hire her."
"I do, too. I think she'll be good for us. She's certainly friendlier than Ros ever was."
Harry let out a small chuckle at that. No, Ros was never the friendly sort. But she had proven herself devoted and trustworthy and dependable. Harry missed that. Being able to implicitly trust members of his team. Harry still had a bit of difficulty with Lucas due to his time in Russia as well as Harry's own guilt with letting him rot there for years and years. Dimitri and Beth were both new elements to be evaluated. And Tariq was just so bloody young. It was hard to see him as anything other than a whiz kid: brilliant but perhaps a bit naïve and just so goddamn young.
"Harry?" Ruth asked softly, cutting through the silence caused by Harry's thoughts.
"Yes, Ruth?" he answered.
"Please go get some sleep, alright? You have to promise me you'll take care of yourself."
"I shall," he assured her. "I have every intention of being alive and well for a long marriage with you."
"Harry, you can't say things like that when we're apart."
"Why?"
"Because it makes me desperate to kiss you and I can't right now."
Harry found himself grinning. "I'll do my best to make up for it tomorrow. For now, I think it's time we both got some sleep."
"Alright. Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight, Ruth."