Despite his instinctual distrust of politicians and everything associated with them, Harry was beginning to like William Towers. The circumstances of his appointment had not been the best, but he had proved himself to possess a shrewd mind and a rather refreshingly frank manner of speaking. It was thanks to Towers's intervention (and Ruth's harsh recriminations) that Harry had not resigned his post all those months before, and Towers seemed genuinely pleased that Harry had decided to stick around. Ordinarily their meetings were mercifully short and remarkably civil, but as Harry took his seat across from Towers's desk today, there seemed to be a strange sort of tension in the room.
There was a certain cast to the other man's face, a sort of curiosity warring with indignation, and Harry quickly ran through the list of current operations in his mind, wondering what could possibly have upset the H.S. this time.
"I've just heard a very interesting rumor, Sir Harry," Towers began, and Harry sighed. He had been trying for months now to convince Towers to refer to him simply as "Harry", and for the most part the H.S. had obliged him, only trotting out his title when he was pulling rank or particularly cross. Harry felt a bit apprehensive, wondering what sort of bollocking he was in for.
"Have you?" he asked carefully.
Towers hummed. "I heard that Ruth Evershed is pregnant."
Harry's heart stuttered in his chest for a moment. This was exactly the sort of thing he'd been hoping to avoid; while most of the field agents in Section D were aware of the peanut situation, up until now he and Ruth had managed to fly under the radar, and keep her condition away from upper management. She was even seeing her doctor under a legend, so that no word of her pregnancy had been entered in her personnel file. He knew they couldn't keep up this charade forever, but he had been hoping for just a bit more time. Hoping that they could keep their secret, at least until she'd made a decision about her living arrangements.
"I also heard that you're the baby's father."
And there it was. Towers was glaring at him accusingly, as if Harry had just insulted his mother, and Harry was rather disgruntled by the other man's reaction to the news. This was a delicate situation, and Harry knew that tact was called for, so he said nothing at all, waiting for Towers to make the next move.
Towers took his silence as a tacit admission of guilt. "Good God, man, tell me it isn't true."
Harry almost laughed aloud. As if he would ever disavow his child and leave Ruth to bear this uncomfortable scrutiny alone.
"We've nothing to be ashamed of. There is nothing in the regulations that prohibits my having a relationship with a member of my staff," Harry said in a remarkably even tone of voice.
"Christ almighty," Towers muttered darkly.
This is going well, Harry thought glumly.
"How long has this been going on?"
Seven years, or six months, depending on how you look at it….
"My life outside the walls of Thames House is none-"
"It is my business when it puts one of your best analysts in danger, Harry! You must know you've painted a target on that poor woman's back. You've just hand delivered your biggest weakness to any nut job with a grudge."
Harry leaned back in his chair, trying to control the anger burning in his chest, trying not to let his words run away with him.
"Have you read Miss Evershed's personnel file, Home Secretary?" The use of Ruth's surname was deliberate; Harry would not hear one disrespectful word about her, from the Home Secretary or anyone else.
"I have it right here, as a matter of fact," Towers fired back, motioning towards a thick file on his desk. "It makes for interesting reading, or it would do, if there weren't three years worth of information unaccounted for."
Harry nodded. "I'm well aware that the file has been edited, Home Secretary, seeing as I did the editing myself."
Towers didn't have a response for that. In fact, he looked absolutely flabbergasted. Harry fixed the man with his patented angry-Section-Head look, and explained, "You haven't been here very long, and I must forgive your ignorance of her past, seeing as you were not in office during that time and the information has not been made available to you. Miss Evershed has sacrificed more for this country than you can possibly imagine, and the suggestion that I have somehow only just now put her in danger is laughable. You're right, to say that she is a weakness of mine, and you're right to be worried for her. What you do not know is that Ruth has already been used against me in such a way; twice, in fact, and we are both still here to tell the tale. I will not let fear keep me away from her, and I will continue to do everything I can to protect her and our child."
He kept his voice low, but he spoke with some heat; how dare Towers accuse him of being negligent where Ruth's safety was concerned?
"Twice, you say?" Towers mused. "I think I'd rather like to hear that story." He gave Harry a rather pointed look.
Harry shook his head. "Not today, Home Secretary, I fear I'm not in a talkative mood at present."
"I could have you sacked, for editing her file," Towers threatened.
"You'd have a hard time proving it was me," Harry responded calmly.
Towers grunted. "What's she doing with a disagreeable old bastard like you anyway?"
Harry laughed. "I honestly have no idea."
The two men eyed one another for a long moment, weighing their options and considering their opponent carefully. It would not do, to allow this to cause a rift between them; their continued good rapport was imperative for the good of the service.
"How far along is she?" Towers asked after a time. He seemed to feel just as awkward as Harry did, at the personal direction their conversation had taken.
Harry coughed uncomfortably. "Almost six months."
"You know what she's having, then?" Towers prompted.
"A girl. It's a girl."
This earned him another grunt. "Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order, Sir Harry." Towers rose from behind his desk, and extended his hand as a sort of declaration of truce. Harry accepted it willingly.
"Thank you, Home Secretary."
Sensing that he had been dismissed, Harry turned and made his way to the door. Before he could make good his escape, Towers threw one last jibe at his back.
"You really ought to make that woman Lady Pearce, you know."
Harry turned, and offered him a little smile. "Believe me, I'm trying."
Ruth was waiting in Harry's office when he returned to the Grid. She knew he'd been to see Towers, and she knew it was highly likely that he'd be coming back in a foul mood, but the time had come for them to have a little talk, and she wanted to do it now, before she lost her nerve completely. The discussion she'd had with Beth the week before had been weighing on her mind for days now, and she'd finally reached a decision, regarding her living arrangements once the peanut was born. To prevent anyone seeing her wandering around Harry's office in a mild state of panic she'd preemptively drawn the blinds on his windows, and was currently seated behind his desk, staring at her hands. Ruth was almost positive she'd made the right decision, but there was a part of her that was still consumed with doubt, and likely always would be. Whichever decision she made carried with it the possibility for calamity, and so she'd thought to herself, I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't, and made her choice.
The sound of the door sliding open made her jump slightly, her hand moving on impulse to cradle her swollen belly. That instinctual desire to protect the peanut had been with her since the moment she'd first discovered she was pregnant, only growing stronger as she faced the daily threats of life on the Grid. She wanted her girl safe, and well, and whole, and she knew Harry did, as well.
He stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at her with a faintly amused expression on his face. In all the years that she had known him, Ruth had never seen anyone else sit behind his desk. She herself had done it once before, during the Cotterdam fiasco, pouring over files in his office waiting for his return just as she was doing now.
"Don't get too comfortable there, I'm not out of a job yet," Harry told her with a smile on his face, sliding the door shut behind him.
Ruth was horrified at the very thought. "The last thing I want is your job, Harry," she told him.
"What do you want, then?" he asked, not unkindly.
It would appear that his meeting with the H.S. hadn't ruffled his feathers too badly, and Ruth was duly grateful. Harry in a pleasant mood was a Harry she rather liked.
"I wanted to talk to you about what you asked me. On my birthday."
All traces of mirth left his face in an instant, to replaced with a nervous sort of apprehension. He reminded her forcefully of the way she'd felt at Christmas as a child, opening a present and hoping that her heart's desire was inside, but trying not to hope too much, lest bitter disappointment utterly consume her.
"I take it you've reached a decision?"
Ruth took a deep breath. "I have. I think, if it would be all right with you, it would be best if I…did move in, with you."
For the space of a heartbeat, Harry did not react at all.
Oh come on, say something! She pleaded with him silently.
Eventually, her words seemed to permeate his brain, and his face lit up with a brilliant smile.
"That's good," he said.
Thank God, she heard.
That smile was infectious; she could not help but answer him with one of her own, rising creakily to her feet.
"It will be good to have some help with the baby, once she's here, and I'd like for you to spend as much time with her as you can. You're her father, after all."
Harry nodded, still looking vaguely dumbstruck at the very idea.
"Right, well…got work to do," she said rather lamely, and started to make her way out of the office. Harry barred her path with his own bulk, however, reaching out to stop her progress with gentle hands, gripping her upper arms.
"Are you sure?" he asked her seriously, his hazel eyes boring into her and making her stomach churn with barely suppressed emotion. How strange it was, that just a look from him could make her feel so many things at once; affection and fear and hope and doubt, each warring for supremacy inside her.
She nodded. "I'm sure."
His eyes flicked briefly away from her, taking in the closed blinds of his office windows, and it was only that split-second gesture that gave her warning of what he was about to do.
When he leaned in to kiss her, she did not resist, and she did not hesitate.
As their lips met he pulled her close, his hands slipping away from her arms and around her back, one rising up to cradle the back of her head as he drew her in. In return she raised her own hands to his shoulders, her fingers digging into the soft material of his jacket, her lips parting at the insistence of his tongue. For a long moment they lost themselves in one another, hungry and eager as teenagers, their chests flush together and their breaths loud and harsh as the passion between them grew.
Ruth was still afraid. She was still terribly, deeply, horrifically afraid that they would one day ruin one another, but it would not be today. Today she was kissing him, in the relative safety of his office. Today she would embrace her hope, for what they could be together. Today she would take what she was given, and she would not run. Tomorrow would bring what it would, but that was a problem for another day.
Still they kissed, and her desire for him only grew. His hands were wandering across her body now, lighting her up as his lips moved against her own, as the taste and the feel and the warmth of him dragged her under as sure as the ocean tides. With a tinge of regret she pulled them back from the brink; it was the middle of the day, and as much as she might like to, they could not let themselves fall too far, not here, not now. She rested her forehead against his chest and took a few steadying breaths while he ran his hands up and down her back reassuringly.
"We'll have to arrange a nursery," Harry mused quietly.
"Oh God, we will," Ruth groaned. "I'm hopeless at that sort of thing."
Harry leaned back slightly, and caught her chin in his hand, raising her face so he could look into her eyes. He was still smiling, and her heart sang at the sight of him so happy.
"I know we've got a busy week ahead, but why don't you come round to mine on Saturday, so we can start to make some plans?"
Ruth nodded. "I'd like that," she told him sincerely.
He pressed one last, lingering kiss against her, and then stepped away, tugging his jacket back into place and adjusting his tie.
"That's good," he said.
I love you, she heard.
After Ruth left, Harry sat as his desk, wondering if he'd done the right thing, not telling her about his conversation with Towers. She would be mortified, he knew, but they could not possibly hope to keep this a secret forever. He would have to tell her eventually, but he couldn't bring himself to do it now, not when he was so close to having everything he'd ever dreamed of, not when she'd looked at him so fondly, not when she'd kissed him so ardently in his office. Saturday, he decided. We'll talk about it on Saturday.
