"No, Harry."
The words came out of her mouth before she even really thought of them. Ruth felt the grip of panic in her chest, the way her heart plummeted into her belly. The absolute madness of that suggestion, it shook her to her core.
"I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "I…"
Harry sighed. "No, I'm sorry."
Ruth felt like she was going to be sick. He was already upset and she really had tried to cheer him up but now she'd gone and shattered his heart. Yet again. She didn't mean to. She certainly didn't want to. But Harry seemed so intent on putting them in these situations that forced her into a corner where she had no other recourse but to push him away.
But maybe that was for the best. She had been concerned, recently, about the way he had been talking. The way he seemed so intent to give up everything for her, to sacrifice for her sake. She understood, of course, because she felt that way for him. Ruth had already sacrificed so much for Harry's sake, and she would again and again and again. It scared her, in fact, the way she loved him, the way she wouldn't give a second thought to standing in front of a threat to protect him. He was better trained for such things than she was, but that didn't matter in the desperate part of her heart that knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would die for this man. But the problem was that Harry had a higher calling to answer to. He had to think not of her and their love but for the safety of the realm. And Ruth was terrified that he would put her above that if it ever came to it. And she wouldn't be able to live with herself if he ever did.
"Can we talk about this, please?" she asked shakily, when the silent tension between them became too much to bear.
Harry still stared straight ahead on the M3, continuing to drive out towards Southampton. "I don't know what we're doing, Ruth," he said, dangerously quietly.
"What's so wrong with what we have now?" she asked him in return.
"Nothing. Of course there's nothing wrong. But we're engaged. Doesn't that mean we'll be married at some point? Or are you content to leave things as they are?" he fired back.
He was starting to get heated, and while Ruth didn't really worry about their safety while he was driving, she didn't think it was fair on him to have a fight while the car was on the highway. "I do want us to get married," she assured him. "And while I don't think I want some circus with a wedding cake a meter high and a big puffy white gown and morning coats or whatever else, I would like to have a wedding where our friends and family can celebrate with us. I don't want to get married just for the sake of getting married." And that was the heart of it, really. It was a Saturday afternoon and they were in the middle of nowhere, and getting married just because Harry was in a foul mood was not what little girls dream of for their future. Ruth herself never had dreams like that, but if she was going to get married at all—properly, this time, not just married in words as she'd done with George—then she wanted to do it right. Planned out and made special.
Harry did not answer her. He looked behind him and pulled off at an exit and down a little country lane. There was a turnoff, and Harry parked the car. He turned off the engine and folded his arms over the steering wheel with his forehead resting on them.
A part of Ruth wanted to reach out and touch him. Rub his back, give his shoulder a squeeze, something. But she couldn't seem to do anything. She just waited.
"There is nothing certain in life," he eventually said, still not sitting up. "Nothing is certain, and we know it better than most. I just wanted one thing to feel certain." Harry lifted his head and turned to her, his face etched with the heartbreak he must have been feeling. "I'm sorry if I went about it the wrong way."
Ruth felt a lump form in her throat. It was too much, sometimes, the depth of Harry's feeling for her. And though she felt just as strongly for him, it was harder for her to admit it. She did her best to swallow back that emotion before it overwhelmed her. "I wouldn't have said yes if I weren't certain," she answered. Her voice cracked and betrayed her. "I hope you know by now that the fact that you and I love each other is certain, even if nothing else is. But today is not the day for us to get married."
"It was a stupid idea," he muttered.
She reached out and put her hand on his arm. "It was a lovely idea. You're certainly the more romantic-minded between us. It was a lovely idea, it just isn't right. Not right now, at least." Ruth looked out the window and noticed a sign directing toward the village center. "Why don't we park somewhere proper and have a wander around, hmm? Stretch our legs and salvage the day?"
Harry did not look entirely convinced, but he nodded. He turned the engine back on and put the Range Rover back in drive to take them into the village.
"This looks quaint," she said, seeing the signage. "Up Nately sounds charming."
"We're in Hampshire, everything is charming," he grumbled.
"I take it you don't much like Hampshire," Ruth noted, feeling in better humor and hoping Harry might be, too.
Harry shrugged. "It's fine, I suppose."
"I prefer Suffolk as far as countryside goes," she told him.
"Do you?" he asked in slight surprise.
"I guess since I grew up in Exeter and went to Oxford and then to Cheltenham, I've just not spent much time in the east. I like the idea of it more than anything, I think," Ruth explained.
Harry hummed in acknowledgment. He was focused on driving the little country roads. "How about here?" he suggested. There was a small car park beside a pub.
"Perfect. I think we could use a drink."
They got out of the car and went towards the Red Lion. Ruth took Harry's arm. She was still worried that he was upset and wanted very much to allay his concerns. She loved him. She would marry him. Just not today.
Harry did not seem to pay any mind to her gesture. He did open the door for her and told her to find a table she liked. Ruth overheard him order a pint of cider and a pint of lager. She assumed the cider was for her. She usually liked to drink wine and wasn't really one for beer.
"How did you know I like cider?" she asked when he arrived with their drinks.
"You used to order cider when we would go to the George," he answered.
Ruth was transported back almost ten years ago when she as a new analyst with Section D, when Tom Quinn and Zoe Reynolds and Danny Hunter were the star field agents, when she was invited out with the team and they'd relieve their stress by laughing and drinking together at the posh bar down the street from Thames House. Harry had joined them on occasion, usually only if Malcolm and Colin were going as well. Ruth was usually sitting with Sam Buxton while Harry stuck with Malcolm.
"Should I get you something else?" Harry asked when she didn't drink but just stared at the pint glass in front of her.
"No, this is perfect, thank you," she assured him. "It just feels like so long ago, when we'd go out to the George. They're all gone now."
Harry nodded. "Zoe and Tom are alive and well, doing far better things than answering to me. And Malcolm and Sam got out alright."
That was only partially true, of course. Zoe had fled, forced to assume a new identity. Tom had burned out in the most horrific, spectacular manner. Sam had left after Danny died, when a nervous breakdown caused her to move home to Aberdeen with her mother. Malcolm had saved Nico's life while Harry had, for all intents and purposes, ended George's. And after that one last trauma, he had retired. But at least they were all alive. Unlike Danny and Colin and almost everyone who came after them. The losses were still hard to bear. Fiona and Adam and Zaf and Ros and Jo and others that Ruth had never even met.
"It was a long time ago," Harry continued, breaking them both out of their somber memories. "But I remember the way you used to giggle when you drank cider, the way your whole face lit up when you laughed."
"Doesn't seem to be much to laugh at anymore," Ruth noted sadly.
"Probably not," he agreed. "But even if we're not having a laugh, at least we have each other."
Ruth smiled softly. "Now that is something worth drinking to."
Harry raised his pint glass. "To you, my Ruth, for being the best reason I have to get up and carry on each day. And to us, to our future together."
"To you, my Harry," she echoed, "for being the force my life has orbited for nearly a decade and for being the man I want to be with forever. To us."
They clinked their glasses and each took a hearty swallow. Harry put his pint down and took Ruth's from her hand. Before she could even ask him what he was doing, his right hand cupped her cheek and drew her in for a kiss. It wasn't long, but it certainly wasn't chaste. When Harry pulled back, he said, "I know it's not an alleyway, but you did promise me a snog somewhere where no one knows us."
Ruth saw the smile in his eyes, and she knew that the troubles that plagued Harry were finally gone. For now. And she leaned in and kissed him once more.