A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews for the first chapter. Havensworth seems to be one of those places/incidents that resonates with many people throughout the H/R part of the Spooks fandom; which is why, I suppose it makes good fodder for fanfic;. I've certainly read some fantastic stories involving it in the past and I hope that this one may soon join those ranks.
Thanks again to HR always live on for being my sounding board and checking for silly mistakes!
Chapter 2
Ruth works some of the complimentary shower gel into a lather and begins to wash. With a small smile she remembers the look on Harry's face when she'd asked him for a whisky. It was definitely not her usual drink of choice; on the few occasions she'd drank it in the past whilst in his company she had always pulled a face as the liquid burned her throat and she knows he noticed. Last night however, she needed the Dutch courage to say what needed to be said. The glass of wine she'd had in the bar had loosened her enough to approach him but getting the words out, well, that was another matter…
***Flashback***
With a raised eyebrow, Harry obliged and poured another glass of whisky. As he did so, Ruth removed her shoes, and sat down on the edge of Harry's bed. She took it from him and downed it in one go. He moved to refill it but she placed her hand over the top of the glass preventing him; she needed courage, not to be drunk, before indicating that he should join her. He sat down on the bed, leaving a gap so wide you could fit another person between them. He did it so as not to spook her or cause her to run from him again.
"So?" he asked, unable to quell his curiosity. "You said you'd come to 'a few conclusions'."
"Yes. The main one being that I have been a monumental idiot."
"When?"
"Well, on several occasions really; firstly when I turned down your offer of a second date and then again when I requested not to come here and when I ran from you last night. Hell, we may as well add in all the days in between as well."
"How much have you had to drink?" Harry asked not used to her being so open and so forthright
"Just one glass of wine that you bought me and then this… are you suggesting I'm drunk?"
"Not at all; I'm just not used to you being so open; neither one of us is very emotionally forthright."
Ruth sighed. "I know and I want to change that Harry; with you anyway. I'm not saying I want to have heart to hearts with Ros or anything but with you…" She shook her head, knowing she has digressed. "I'm sick of the awkwardness and the hurting and… I miss you Harry. I was wrong to turn down your offer of dinner because of what other people think; the only two people that matter in this are us. I realise that now. I was going to wait until we left here, but seeing you at the bar tonight; you looked so lonely and like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders. All I wanted was to help but I forfeited that chance when I turned you down, and that thought killed me. I realised we'd wasted enough time already… I didn't want us to waste anymore due to me being an idiot."
"You're not an idiot."
"No? Well, what would you call a woman who's been in love with her boss for the best part of a year but runs away at the first sign of…" She trailed off as she realised Harry was staring at her. "What?"
"In love?"
"Pardon?"
"You said 'a woman who's been in love with her boss for the best part of a year'."
Ruth cast her eyes downward in embarrassment. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks but there was nothing to be done about it; she'd said it now, she couldn't take it back. "I… I guess I did," she admitted, but she didn't raise her gaze.
"Ruth," he whispered, using the same tone of voice as he did in the corridor two nights previously.
Slowly she raised her head and turned towards him but her response died on her lips. He'd moved closer to her and his face was now only inches from hers. She felt his hand settle gently on her thigh; a touch that sends a shiver through her. She wondered why he hadn't said anything, what he was waiting for, so she opened her mouth to ask him, but she didn't get chance. His lips descended on hers decisively. Gentle, yet forceful at the same time. She was surprised but once she properly registered what was happening, she kissed him back.
***End Flashback***
Her shower finished, she turns off the water and steps out of the tub. She grabs a towel and wraps it round her to ward off the cool air and pokes her head around the bathroom door; Harry is still sleeping. She begins to dry herself and as she rubs the towel over her skin, her mind wanders once more to the feeling of something else gliding over her skin; Harry's hands. Hands that she knows have killed people. They were so delicate as they had edged their way up her thigh, so insistent when he pushed her back onto the bed…
The shrill ringing of her phone brings a swift halt to her daydreams. Probably for the best, she thinks, reluctantly, they do have work to do today, and she needs to be focused. After all, it's not every day they attempt to orchestrate the assassination of an African President. She grabs a hotel robe from the back of the door and re-enters the bedroom. Harry is now sat up in bed, his bare chest showing, looking considerably bleary eyed thanks to his unexpected wake-up call. Luckily, he has had the presence of mind to check whose phone is ringing before immediately answering it. He flashes her a sleepy smile as he hands her the phone.
"Hello?"
"Ruth, it's Malcolm."
"Morning Malcolm; what can I do for you?"
"Well I thought you'd appreciate a heads-up…" He's a little reluctant to continue.
"Go on," she urges.
"Ros and Adam are on their way to see Harry... in his room."
Ruth suddenly understands; he's feeling uncomfortable at having to make this call. "How did you even know I w-" she stops as she remembers. "Oh, Diaspora."
"I don't mean to be insensitive; I just thought you'd like to know."
"Thank you Malcolm; I appreciate it. Was anyone else on surveillance with you last night?" she asks.
"No. I sent Jo home around ten-thirty." The same time she and Harry had gone into his room together. She realises how he has tried to protect them; she is grateful. "Thank you Malcolm," she tells him genuinely before hanging up. Harry is looking at her with a raised eyebrow. She sits down next to him and leans into his out-stretched arm. "Ros and Adam are on their way up to see you. Malcolm thought we'd like a heads up."
"How do you want to play it?" he asks, kissing the side of her head.
Ruth turns her head to look at him. "I meant what I said last night; I don't mind people knowing about us, but I don't think them finding me half naked in your room in the middle of an operation is the best way to go about it, do you?"
Harry kisses her lightly on the lips this time. "No, probably not," he murmurs, kissing her again.
The knock on the door comes too soon for either of their liking but they spring apart at the sound. Ruth quickly heads to the bathroom and Harry looks around for something to cover himself; he can hardly answer the door naked.
"Here!" Ruth hisses, and strips her robe off and throws it too him, before disappearing behind the bathroom door. Harry quickly puts it on, willing his body not to react to the sight of Ruth's naked body, as he answers the door to his officers.
The operation to have Baptiste Kadala assassinate Gabriel Sekoa was over; but not without significant cost. The young girl had lost her life and the Section's relationship with the Foreign Secretary had been damaged almost irreparably. Harry had salvaged some semblance of insurance for them though, with the recording of his vile comments.
He had enjoyed bringing down the stuffy politician a peg or two but she can see in his eyes that he is tortured by the death of Baptiste and has shut himself away from the rest of the team since the Foreign Secretary left. They haven't spoken about anything but work until he kissed he goodbye at his hotel door that morning. Now though, the Grid is deserted, so she rises from her desk to offer him some comfort. She's nearly at his office when she hears Ros's voice, attacking him.
"What right do you have to make judgements on my personal life? Your own isn't exactly a shining example, is it? The fact that your own existence is a walking disaster zone does not give you the right to make judgments on other people's!"
Ruth winces at the amount of anger and vitriol in her voice. She understands that she is hurt; her father will very possibly die in prison, but that's not Harry's fault. He wasn't the one who colluded with Collingwood and Millington; he wasn't the one who committed treason.
She watches as Ros leaves Harry's office and storms off across the Grid. Once she is out of sight, Ruth slides the main door to the office open and slips inside. He is perched on the edge of his desk, his hand over his face.
"Hi."
He turns to her and gives her a small smile. "Hi."
"I just wanted to say… about Ros… that you were right. It isn't your fault, Harry."
"Thank you," he says.
"Goodnight." She places her hand on his arm and squeezes it gently, leaning in to press her lips lightly against his cheek. "You're welcome to come round later," she whispers in his ear. "If you need to." She knows he has a meeting with the home secretary; a further inquest into the events at Havensworth but she'll wait; she just hopes he realises that.
Ruth switches off the late news and leans back into the sofa. Harry hasn't appeared. She's a little disappointed and wonders if he's started to regret last night, but then chastises herself for acting like a silly school-girl. There's more than a good chance he's still in his meeting, or that he's decided he needs to be alone to deal with the events of today. She's an adult; she should understand this, she tells herself. But things aren't always so clear-cut when it involves matters of the heart.
She is just about to give up and go to bed when she hears the faint knocking on the front door. She opens it to reveal Harry. He looks like the weight of the world on his shoulders; his meeting with the Home Secretary obviously didn't go well.
"I don't want to be an imposition," is the first thing he says.
"Don't be daft," is her reply, opening up her arms to him.
Harry steps inside and into her embrace. He breathes in her scent and feels the stress and strain lift as he holds her.
As she rubs her hands up and down his back soothingly; she reflects on the past few days. She definitely made the right decision in approaching Harry last night. They need each other; and in this moment, there's nowhere else she'd rather be than holding Harry and providing the love and comfort that he needs.
A/N: Well, that's it - I'm trying to keep it sort of 'in-canon' if you get my drift. I would appreciate any comments you have to share - reviews keep my mused fed and watered. They'll also keep me sane as I'm just off to help decorate the parentals hallway, stairsand landing! And who knows, if there's enough of an appetite for it I may even write a sequel to this, set post 5x05...
