Title: Havensworth: Behind the Scenes.
Fandom: Spooks
Characters/Pairings: Harry/Ruth
Rating: T
Warnings: None
Summary: What should have happened (or, for the more positive amongst us, what did happen off screen) at Havensworth. Two-shot.
Disclaimer: I don't own Spooks or any of the characters or dialogue you may recognise. They all belong to Kudos/BBC.
A/N: Thanks to HR always live on for checking this over for me!
Chapter 1
As a few errant sunbeams creep in between the gap in the curtains, Ruth slips from the bed, careful not to wake her companion who is still sleeping peacefully. She gathers up her discarded clothing and pads across the thickly carpeted floor of the hotel room to the en-suite. She stops in the doorway and looks back at the bed; Harry has shifted but doesn't seem to have been disturbed. Ruth smiles at the sight of him; he's pouting slightly but he looks peaceful.
She closes the door to the bathroom softly and turns on the shower. She removes the little clothing she wears and steps under the spray. The warm water is soothing, something that she really needs this morning; she aches in places she'd forgotten even existed. It's a welcome ache though; one she is keen to experience again and again.
She realises now how futile it had been to run from Harry; she was never going to be able to resist him in the long run…
She came to that conclusion the night before last when, due to the Italian trade minister's penchant for playing Euro-pop at a volume loud enough to wake the dead, she met him in the hotel corridor. He pierced her with his gaze and it had taken all her will power to walk away from him. So much so that she didn't dare to look back; not even when her name fell from his lips. If she did, she knew she would be lost. Lost in him and there would be no going back. She heard his disappointed sigh as she left him standing there alone and the knowledge that she was the reason he was suffering meant sleep was difficult to come by that night.
It took her nearly 48 hours but she finally woke up to the strength of her feeling for him. She planned to leave it until after the summit to tell him that she'd changed her mind, that she wanted have dinner with him again but fate it seemed had other plans. She was sitting in the suite they were using as their base; monitoring the CCTV footage of the hotel, when she came across him in the hotel bar, sitting alone, nursing a rather large glass of whiskey. He looked lonely… like he needed someone to talk to. 'You,' said the voice in her head. 'He needs you.' Without thinking she picked up the phone, but when she went to dial his number her common sense kicked in; she couldn't say what needed to be said over the phone. It was something that had to be said face-to-face. So standing, she hurried out of the room.
She approached the bar silently, slipping onto the stool next to him. When he turned to see who had joined him, he was visibly surprised to see her and automatically assumed that her presence was work related.
"Ruth? I didn't hear my phone," he told her, searching through his pockets.
"It's not a red flash, Harry. D-do you mind if I… join you?" she asked nervously and it struck her as odd how she could be both nervous and determined at the same time.
"Of course. Can I get you a drink?"
Ruth nodded. "White wine please."
Harry ordered their drinks and the two of them fell into silence as they were served. It was only once the barman had left their vicinity that Ruth dared to speak.
"I wanted to apologise," she began after taking a sip of her drink, "for the way things have been between us lately."
Fearing another rebuff, Harry was keen to end the conversation as quickly as possible. "Ruth, you really don't need to-"
"No, I do. I-"
"Ruth please. You've made it painfully clear on two occasions that you find the idea of pursuing a personal relationship with me abhorrent. Let's not prolong the agony."
With that he downed his drink and slammed the glass forcefully onto the bar before striding purposefully away from her, not once looking back.
Ruth let out an almighty sigh before deciding to go after him. She hasn't spent every spare moment she's had over the last two days analysing their situation just to give up at the first hurdle. No, she decided she was going to have this out with him; tonight. Quickly finishing her own drink, she followed him out of the bar. A quick glance around the lobby told her that she'd lost him but she had a feeling she knew where he would be; in his room, licking his metaphorical wounds. So she got into the nearest lift and pressed the button for his floor.
When she got there she knocked fiercely on his door, determined that he would let her in. There was no answer so she knocked again, louder and called through, "Harry, open the door. I'm not going anywhere until you come out of there and speak to me."
"You'll have rather a long wait then," came Harry's voice from behind her. She whips around and he his standing there, a bottle of whiskey in hand.
Ruth looked a little sheepish. "I… I thought you were inside. I…"
"I went outside for some fresh air. I realised I may have been a little harsh so went back to the bar to apologise. But you'd gone, so I bought myself this," He holds up the bottle of whiskey, "so I could drown my sorrows."
"Harry… I…"
"I am sorry Ruth. No matter what has gone on between us, I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did. It was uncalled for."
"You're hurting," she reasoned.
He was silent for a moment, not wanting to reveal too much, but eventually he nodded. "I am," he admitted. "But that's no excuse for the way I spoke to you."
"No, perhaps not," she agreed and they shared a small smile. "Can I come in? I didn't get a chance to finish what I was going to say and I'd rather not talk about it in the corridor."
She moved aside to allow him to open his door and then followed him in. He put the bottle of whiskey and his keycard down on the bedside table and began emptying his pockets; wallet, a bit of loose change, handkerchief, mobile. This action stirred something in him and he turned back to Ruth, a worried look on his face. "Have you got your phone?" he asked.
"Yes. It's in my bag, why?"
"Malcolm and Jo are monitoring everyone's whereabouts through their phones remember."
"Ah yes, Diaspora. I'd forgotten." It was easy to forget when one was holed up in a country hotel with the object of their desires standing only a few feet away.
"Well my point is, perhaps this isn't such a good idea; you don't want to be talked about and if you should be seen… in my room… with me… at this hour… people might think… well, that we're…."
"…sleeping together," Ruth finished for him, confidently.
"Yes."
An awkward silence fell between them, Ruth's words hanging in the air. Harry distracted himself by pouring himself a scotch.
"Let them think what they like," Ruth finally declared when the silence became too much.
Harry stared at her, "Ruth what-?"
"I've done a lot of thinking since the other night… in the corridor."
"And have you come to any conclusions?" he asked, trying not to get his hopes up, but failing miserably.
Ruth nodded thoughtfully. "A few yes."
"Would you care to enlighten me?"
She indicated to the whiskey bottle. "Pour me one of those and I might consider it."
