Thank you so much for the reviews for this! A slightly longer chapter this time.

They'd gone home for only a few hours sleep before they were back on the grid, with the rest of the team. Harry read some of the latest correspondence that had come in overnight, and some that he'd been ignoring for a few days when he realised he'd been invited to interview for the DG position. Bloody hell. He knew his name had been floating around upstairs as a possible replacement, but he didn't think it would actually materialise into anything. Now it had, he knew instantly that he didn't want the job. Overseeing the whole of MI5? No. He didn't want that. He liked getting his hands dirty from time to time, he liked knowing what was actually going on, rather than having it fed to him third hand on the top floor. He picked up his phone and called through to Ruth's desk phone.

"Yes?"

"Ruth, I need a private word." She looked at him from across the grid and something in either his face or his tone let her know this wasn't personal.

"Give me a minute." She disconnected the call and Harry watched her carefully as she typed away on her computer, then walked into his office.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting down.

"Why would anything be wrong?"

"The look on your face," she said. "What is it?"

"I've been asked to interview for the position of Director General."

"Wow," Ruth said, her eyebrows rising in surprise. "That's great, congratulations."

"Well, when they ask, it's not something you say no to."

"Why would you want to say no?" she asked, surprised.

"I don't want to be on the top floor, losing touch with reality. I want to know what really goes on, rather than what people choose to tell me, which would happen if I were the DG."

"Harry, you can't say no."

"No, I'm hoping you can help me… fail gracefully."

"I will if you'd like me to."

"But…"

"Not at the expense of our current operation," she said. "Of course."

He nodded in thanks. "And I don't want it public knowledge that I've been nominated for the position."

"My lips are sealed." Harry's eyes dipped to said lips for a few moments and she looked down, feeling a little overwhelmed at his attention. "Shall we…?"

"Yes." Ruth left his office, a slight smile on her face.

The day flew by with Adam getting limited intelligence from Robert Morgan. It was late and Ruth stifled a yawn before picking up the relevant folders and going into Harry's office.

"Have you got time to go over some prep for the interview?"

"Yes," he said, nodding at the door. She took the hint and closed it.

"Look," Harry said heavily. "I know you want to talk through this, and I do to. But it's late, I'm hungry and I want to go home. Why don't we go to mine, I'll get a takeaway and we'll discuss this where there are less prying eyes. I don't want people knowing about this interview."

Ruth considered it for a moment. Being in Harry's house felt more intimate than work would allow for, but as soon as he'd mentioned food, her stomach rumbled. She hoped Harry hadn't heard that.

"A takeaway sounds wonderful. I'm starving."

"Lets go then. I don't think we're going to get more out of Morgan tonight, and everyone needs some rest." Ruth nodded and went to get her coat. She was too tired and hungry to care about anyone noticing if she and Harry were leaving at the same time.

They shared a car to Harry's house but didn't say much. It wasn't uncomfortable, just quiet. It didn't take long to get there and Ruth was slightly concerned to see someone on Harry's doorstep. He didn't seem bothered though, getting out of the car and thanking the driver. Harry walked over to the figure, took a carrier bag from him and thanked him as the man disappeared down the street.

"Er… Harry?" Ruth asked in bewilderment.

"I called him from the grid," Harry said, unlocking the door and disabling the security system. Ruth watched as he put his index finger to an electronic pad by the door.

"You have fingerprint security on your house?" she asked in surprise.

"After I got robbed last year," he said darkly. "I wanted to be sure I was the only one who could get in." Fair enough, Ruth thought to herself. He walked into the kitchen and she followed, watching from the doorway as Harry unwrapped their food. The scent of fish and chips reached her and she closed her eyes in bliss. It smelt amazing.

"I didn't want to wait," he said. "I often call James when I've been working late."

"He delivers your takeaway?" she asked, surprised that he trusted someone with his home address as she sat down opposite him.

"He gets well paid for it," he said. "It's just easier. I hope you like cod and chips."

"Perfect," she said. His kitchen was immaculate. It looked modern, and hardly ever used. She guessed that was because he was never home to cook anything for himself and she felt a stab of pity at how hard she knew he worked. Though she was hardly one to talk, was she?

"Oh, don't bother," she said to Harry as he handed her a fork. "I always ate fish and chips with my fingers when growing up. It was chips on the beach in soggy paper and doused in vinegar. It was lovely." They started eating, both starving.

"Did you go to the beach often?" he asked quietly.

"In the summer," she said. "Quite a bit. Before my dad died anyway. Then things between my mother and I… Well, they became strained."

"Do you see her often?"

"No. Christmas. That's about it. It's a long train down to Exeter. Three and a half hours. I'm on call all the time, I can't be that far away from London. And I'd probably make an excuse not to see her anyway," she said fairly, shaking her head. "Let's stop talking about such a depressive subject."

"Okay," he said. They were quiet until they'd finished their meals which took a very short time.

"Thank you," she said. "That was wonderful."

"Not really the dinner I'd first planned," he said.

"Next week when things have quietened down a bit," she said, smiling at him.

About an hour later, they found themselves in the lounge, a bottle of red wine open as they discussed Harry's DG interview. Ruth was on the sofa, her feet up and Harry had taken the arm chair.

"I think you should be prepared to answer questions on four main areas. The state of readiness of the service, your character and operational experience and most importantly the nature of the present threat. How far do we go to combat it? How far do we go in all senses." She took a sip of wine as Harry answered.

"Is there anything we shouldn't be doing, yes I like that."

Ruth put her files down and looked at Harry. "How about the other candidates, do we know who they are?"

"Of course not." She kept looking at him, her meaning plain. "Nor Ruth, could I openly approve of anyone trying to find them out."

"But if I managed to find out, and a list of them happened…?"

"To find it's way onto my desk? Then I'd have to send it back to its rightful owner, unopened." She smiled, taking the point and draining her glass. "Thank you for this. Helping me."

"Of course," she said. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't want this job, Ruth."

"I know." He sighed heavily, leaning back on his chair and closing his eyes.

"I'm exhausted."

"I should probably go then," she said, though she made no effort to get up from the sofa.

"I wasn't hinting," he said. "It's just been a long week." He poured some more wine for them both and she didn't object. "Ruth…" He was interrupted by his phone buzzing. "I'll be back in a minute." She nodded as he left.

Harry read the message, then called the grid. It was nothing urgent, just the fact that Morgan wasn't giving in and Adam would be back in a few hours some point in the middle of the night. To be honest, Harry could have done without the update, but he didn't know if that was simple irritation at being interrupted when he was with Ruth.

He returned to the lounge and he smiled at the sight that confronted him. Ruth's head had tilted onto her shoulder and she'd fallen asleep. He smiled at her warmly, before leaving to find a blanket. He returned quickly, taking her precariously balanced glass of wine out of her hand and putting it on the coffee table. He covered Ruth with a blanket and she moved slightly as he disturbed her.

"No, go back to sleep," he said gently.

"You sure?" she asked, still with her eyes closed.

"Absolutely." She sighed heavily and relaxed into sleep again. Harry stroked her hair lightly, feeling the softness slide between his fingers. He couldn't resist. Her lips twitched a little and he let her go. He longed to kiss her, but fought the urge because he didn't want to take advantage of her. He spent long minutes watching her sleep, wondering if he'd ever get the chance again. To see her so relaxed that all the worry had gone from her face. After a while, he turned the lights off, and left Ruth to it.

More soon. And I've again stolen some lines from the spooks script of 3-9.