It took longer than he'd anticipated to actually have the time off, but eventually Harry made the time. Things were quiet on the Grid, for once. Lucas and Beth and Dimitri were all working on cultivating assets. Tariq was working on developing some sort of new tech that Harry didn't have the patience to hear about. And Ruth was always busy with a million things from translations to reviewing reports by the junior analysts. It was a Tuesday afternoon and Harry decided that today was the day.
He walked out of his office with purpose, ignoring everyone and everything as he made his way to Ruth. "What are you working on?" he asked.
She did not answer right away, finishing the paragraph she was reading on her screen. Some people might find it a bit annoying, having to wait for someone to pay attention to them, but Harry found that, since it was Ruth and since he knew how focused she could get about her work, he found this habit of hers rather endearing. Or maybe he just thought that because he loved her.
"Finished?" he asked with a small smile when she did eventually look up at him.
"Sorry, yes, I just wanted to be sure that the end of that Arabic sentence didn't include anything too concerning. Sometimes Arabic poetry is code, you know. But I haven't noticed anything in this one," she replied.
He nodded. "That's good. Can you finish that tomorrow? Preferably late morning?"
Ruth narrowed her eyes at him. "Why?"
"Because I'd like us to leave now and not come in until about ten tomorrow if we can manage it. We're not terribly busy, and I'm the boss and you're my fiancée and I think we should use this perk of our positions."
The way Ruth pursed her lips with her eyes sparkling like that let Harry know that she was trying not to smile. "Yes, alright," she conceded. "Let me just mark down a few things so I can come back to it tomorrow after ten in the morning."
"Fine. I'll get my coat and come collect you in a minute."
Harry returned to his office to shut everything down and get his coat and keys. By the time he returned to Ruth's station, she was powering down her computer and haphazardly collecting her bag.
"You know, I have visions of clutter in our future," Harry commented.
"You mean nightmares?" she teased.
Harry gave the smallest hint of a smile. "I shall endeavor to loosen my strict habits when we do eventually share a living space. Right now you don't make much mess at all, and you're very good at cleaning up and such. But I have a suspicion that might change when you don't feel like a guest in my home and we instead have a home of our own together."
Ruth cocked her head in a curious fashion. "You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?"
"I will admit to the periodic fantasy of our domestic life, yes." A knot started to form in the pit of Harry's stomach as it always did when he sensed he might be pushing too far with Ruth. She didn't like being pushed. She didn't like anything moving too fast for her, and Harry knew that had been his fatal flaw in their relationship in the past. He wanted everything with her, to be married and living together happily and get through all of this mess of figuring things out. But the years had taught him patience when it came to her. He no longer feared that she would run from him, but he did still get this little worry when he didn't know how she'd react to something he'd done or said.
But Ruth surprised him. She stood up, putting on her coat, and said, "I have, too. And I always envision you moaning about the clutter."
Harry grunted in response, but Ruth let out a small laugh, and his entire being felt warm. It was utterly mad, sometimes, to think about how much he loved her. About how utterly, hopelessly smitten and besotted he was with this odd woman who had agreed to become his wife.
"Come on, let's get a move on if we're going," she said, giving his arm a hurrying little pat.
He guided her out to the pods with a light hand at the small of her back.
"See you tomorrow, then?" Lucas asked as they passed his desk.
"I daresay you will. You know how to reach us if we're needed," Harry added. Neither he nor Ruth lingered to chat or explain.
It wasn't until they got in the car—Harry had driven them both to Thames House that morning rather than using his driver—that Harry realized he'd not explained to Ruth what they were doing.
"You haven't asked why I wanted us to leave work early today," he said.
"I assumed we'd be going to yours and probably ending up in bed," Ruth answered. "Did you have something else in mind?"
Harry very nearly said to sod his idea and go with hers instead, but he resisted. "I did, actually. Though I am always happy to get you into bed."
She smiled at him and reached out, covering his hand with hers where it rested on the gearshift. "So what are we doing, then, hmm?"
He turned his hand so he could lace his fingers with hers. It was her right hand, of course, but it took him a moment to realize that's why he couldn't feel her engagement ring. She wore it every day, now that everyone knew about them; there was no need to hide it on that chain anymore, and Harry was proud as could be whenever he saw it sparkle on her finger.
"Harry?"
"Sorry, I was lost in thought."
"What were you thinking about?"
"How happy it makes me whenever I see your engagement ring."
Ruth lifted her left hand and wiggled her fingers. "It is terribly pretty."
"You're terribly pretty, too," he told her.
She turned away from him, blushing. "I don't suppose I'll ever get used to you saying things like that."
"I shall say them anyway because they're true."
"Charmer," she chided, rolling her eyes.
Harry lifted their joined hands so he could kiss her knuckles.
"You still haven't told me where we're going," Ruth said. "We obviously aren't going to your house or my flat."
"We're going to the shelter to get a cat," he informed her.
"Oh Harry, really!?" she exclaimed excitedly.
"Yes, really. As is always the case with us, the timing isn't ideal, but it never will be, so why not make the time now?" he reasoned.
Ruth grinned at that, so Harry figured she agreed with him.
Soon enough, they were at the shelter and Harry allowed Ruth to lead the way. She'd adopted a number of cats before, and he'd only inherited hers. It stood to reason that she should be the one to be in charge. And Ruth was perfect for it. She spoke with the shelter worker, rattling off all the things they were looking for. Harry was glad she knew, because he had hardly given it any thought beyond the decision to get a cat.
"We work a lot, you see, so I think an adult cat but not too old. One that's sort of alright being on its own but is still affectionate when we're around. But that'll come in time, I know. And I've always had short-haired cats before, but I wouldn't mind a long-hair," Ruth prattled.
Harry was listening to her, but he was also looking at the rows and rows of cages. Dozens and dozens of cats of all colors and types. Most of them were sleeping. A few lifted their heads and watched as the strangers walked by. One cat meowed at Harry as they walked by. He paused to look at the noisy feline.
The identification card said the cat's name was Billy and he was six years old. Harry's best mate had been called Bill. He was long dead. But Harry had always liked the name.
The cat looked nothing like Bill Crombie, though. Bill had been a surly, dark-haired man. Tall and gangly but strong and quick. Good officer. Billy the cat was rather big and fluffy, white and orange with yellow-green eyes. And when Harry looked at this cat, the first thought he had was that he seemed nice.
"Ruth, what do you think about him?" Harry interrupted.
She turned and walked over to where he was standing. "Billy?"
"Billy's the sweetest boy. Very alert and playful." The shelter worker came to open the cage and lifted the rather portly cat out. "Billy, come meet Ruth and Harry," she cooed.
Harry could see immediately that Ruth was smitten. As far as he was concerned, they'd obviously found their cat.
But before Ruth could take the cat into her arms or say anything, her phone went off. She hurried off into the corner and rummaged through her purse to find it.
Meanwhile, the shelter worker offered Billy over to Harry. "Would you like to hold him? See if you like each other?"
A quick glance over to Ruth told Harry that she'd be a minute. "Yes, alright," he said to the shelter worker.
Billy was a heavy cat. But he was also extremely friendly. He bumped his head against Harry's chin and immediately started purring. "Oh he certainly likes you!" the shelter worker noted happily.
"I rather like him, too," Harry answered. What wasn't to like? A big, snuggly, sweet cat was exactly what he'd been hoping for.
Ruth came over, her face grim. "Harry that was work. I've got to go back in."
So much for their day out and late morning tomorrow. But that was the way of things in their line of work. There was no such thing, really, as time off.
Harry gave Billy back to the shelter worker and thanked her for her time but unfortunately they wouldn't be able to adopt a cat today. Harry had to drive Ruth back to Thames House, and whatever it was that required her attention would more than likely require his before long, too. Back to it.