Thanks for the reviews for chapter one. I am planning to make things happier on the HR front, and try to stick to what was shown on screen.
On Monday, Ruth felt she'd been at home licking her wounds long enough. Her arms still ached, but she needed to be back at work. She had calmed down since speaking to Harry and no longer felt the instant need to leave MI5. But her private concerns were still there, and she was tired of feeling so lonely. She knew she needed someone. But right now, that was a battle for another day.
She went through the pods and saw both Adam and Malcolm look up from their desks at her arrival. Malcolm smiled that lopsided smile of his which made Ruth smile in turn.
"It's good to have you back," he said.
"Thanks."
"Are you okay?" Adam asked.
"I'll survive." Ruth walked over to her desk and resisted from dropping her jaw with difficulty. Her in tray was towering with so many folders and files, that she knew if she were sat down, she wouldn't be able to even see Harry's office.
"Has anyone gone through any of the intelligence since I've been gone?"
"Yes, but that's what was left over," Malcolm said apologetically. "Sorry."
"Have you got time to give me a hand?" she asked. He took a few files off of the top of the mountain, as did Colin.
"Thank you."
She sat down and got to work, trying to be as thorough as possible, while trying to finish the pile of paperwork before Christmas.
At about eleven, she felt Harry's eyes on her, and looked towards his office. He nodded to her and she took that as an invitation to come in.
She got up and knocked once, opening the door without waiting for an answer. "Harry?"
"Close the door," he said. She did and waited for him to say something. He cleared his throat before speaking.
"How are you?"
"I'm fine." She spoke so quickly that Harry clearly considered it a snap reaction and he sighed.
"Ruth, last time I saw you…"
"I wasn't doing well," she finished, sitting down opposite him. "I feel a lot better after a few good nights sleep."
"Well, I'm glad," he said. "But what you said about leaving MI5...?"
"Don't worry, you don't have to look for a replacement analyst," she said. "I've calmed down. And remembered that I usually enjoy my job."
"I wasn't asking from a professional standpoint Ruth," he said lowly. "I was concerned about you, after your ordeal." He looked down at the red rings on her wrists which were still vivid. Noticing his attention, she pulled down her shirt sleeves to hide them.
"Harry, I'm okay," she said. "I had a bad week." She smiled slightly at the understatement and he nodded in agreement. "I'm okay."
"Listen, Ruth. I've been thinking. Would you…" he was cut off by the shrill ringing of his phone and he sighed heavily in a way that made Ruth very curious about what he'd been interrupted from saying.
"I'm sorry," he said, answering the phone on speaker. "Yes?"
"Mr Pearce, I thought you'd want to know. Oliver Mace has just been cleared from security."
"Thank you," Harry said.
"Do you want to…" he said indicating the door.
"Yes," she said. Ruth had no desire to be in closer proximity to Oliver Mace than she had to be. For some reason he made her skin crawl. And she now felt a bite of annoyance that Harry had been interrupted. She was almost sure that whatever he'd been about to say was personal. The soft look in his hazel eyes, the tilt of his head. Telling her to close the door.
As Mace walked onto the grid she gave herself a mental shake. Of course Harry wasn't going to be talking personal with her. The fact that she found his hazel eyes so damn attractive that she could drown in them, and his full pout so kissable was besides the point.
For some reason, section D were in charge of handling the kidnapping of some celebrity It couple's baby. While all of them felt sympathy for the abducted child, they also felt that this was not their job, politics be damned.
Meanwhile Ruth was looking for a girl that a politician, John Sylvester, said might be in hospital. The problem was that London had quite a few hospitals and Ruth didn't have a name to work from. But she would find her, she knew that. No matter how long it took.
By the end of the day, she had the photographs. She walked into Harry's office without knocking. Harry curled his right hand into a fist and rapped his knuckles against his desk.
"I hear knocking's the done thing," he said sternly, but his eyes were twinkling at her so she didn't take it too seriously.
"I found her." She handed the file over. "Kensington mortuary."
Harry sighed but took the photos and flicked through them. "Poor girl. Will we ever know her name?" He went through them again. "How did you get these?"
"What, and reveal all my secrets?" She smiled at him as he raised an eyebrow, so she elaborated. "I know a girl on the Greater London murder squad. She wants to get in to GCHQ, I've said I'll put in a word. So, she emailed these to me. Without her superiors knowing."
"Dear God Ruth, is any institution in this country safe from you?"
"I like to think not," she said. Unsure of herself as she was personally, professionally she knew she was good at her job. Harry closed the file and threw it on his desk, before leaning against it, looking at her.
"We were interrupted earlier," he said. "I wanted to… ask you something." She nodded, waiting. "Would you like to have dinner with me? Somewhere… far away from this building and everything in it. With no discussion of work." Harry was aware he was rambling slightly, but he couldn't help it. He badly wanted her to say yes, and it surprised him quite how badly.
She stayed silent, thinking it over for a minute. Making sure she wasn't having a severe hallucination or colourful daydream. "Yes."
"Really?"
"I'd love to, Harry," she said, smiling. "Though next time you ask me, I would prefer if we hadn't just been discussing a murdered anonymous girl," she said, nodding at the folder on his desk.
"Actually, we were discussing your brilliance at hacking into various secure agencies," he said. "And yes, my timing could have been better, but if I wait for the perfect moment to ask, it may never happen." She conceded the point with a slight nod. "I'll book somewhere."
"I'd love that, Harry," she said. "Shall I carry on trying to find her name?"
"Mm," he agreed, work mode slipping back into place. "I'll keep the copies of the photos. Get Sylvester to resign and call the police." Ruth nodded and left his office, but she had a small private smile to herself. God, she'd have to go shopping. She knew nothing in her wardrobe would be suitable for a dinner out with Harry.
More sometime this week (hopefully!)