Right, I am rapidly descending (ascending?) into Harry and Ruth fluffy goodness. Enjoy!
Ruth had just got into bed when her doorbell rang. "Oh God," she moaned into her pillow. Whoever it was could rot in hell. Then it rang again. Thinking that it might be quicker to simply answer it, she got up, wrapped her dressing gown around herself and headed downstairs. Opening the door, she wasn't all that surprised to see Harry.
"Harry what are yo…" she was cut off by him kissing her as soon as he'd set eyes on her. Within seconds his hands were on her waist, pulling her as close as possible and his tongue was practically down her throat. After a moment of complete shock she pulled away from him. "My God you are drunk," she said, tasting the whisky on him. "Tell me you didn't drive over."
"Took a taxi," he replied, only slurring his words slightly. A compliment to his liver judging on the amount he'd drunk. He smelled like a distillery.
"Let me call you a cab," she said softly, already turning from him and reaching for the phone.
"No don't," he said, collapsing on her sofa.
"Come on Harry," she said quietly. "We have enough trouble communicating with each other when we're not drunk."
"Mm," he said, his eyes looking down before returning to her. "I love you."
She froze. Then she stared at him. Then she curled her fingers into a fist and punched his chest. "You bloody stupid man!" she shouted. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to hear that from you? And you tell me when you're paralytic? Harry Pearce, I want to kill you!" She buried her face in her hands, trying to regain her temper. "Right," she said through gritted teeth. She lowered her hands from her face and saw that he'd fallen asleep. In spite of herself she felt her heart softening towards him. He looked so much more peaceful in sleep than she'd ever seen him. Added to that the rumpled shirt he wore, and she was brought back to her fantasies of waking up next to him everyday. Shaking her head slightly, she found a blanket and covered him. She allowed herself to touch his stubbled cheek gently before she went upstairs to bed.
Harry woke with an intense pain in his neck and a headache already throbbing in his temples. He looked around and realised he wasn't in his own house. He had a moment of fear, but then thought that kidnappers would be unlikely to leave him to sleep on the sofa covered with a blanket. He caught sight of a bookshelf and scanned the titles. Homer, Plutarch and Austen were prominent among them. Meaning that he was in Ruth's house. He put his hands over his eyes and broken images came back to him. Hoping that at least half of them weren't true, he caught the smell of coffee from the kitchen. Deciding to venture out, he found Ruth, her back to him as she put bread in the toaster.
"Tell me I dreamed last night," he said quietly. "Tell me that didn't actually happen."
"What happened?" Ruth asked turning with a quirked eyebrow. "You pouncing on me like a drunken lech? Because that was true."
"Oh God," he said, his eyes closing in horror. "I'm so sorry."
"Mm," she replied pouring him a coffee. "I think your hangover should be punishment enough."
"Thank you," he replied as she handed him his coffee. "I didn't intend to do that."
"No? So what was the master plan?" Ruth asked, putting her toast on a plate and sitting at the table.
"Well, I did think it would be a good idea to come around and talk to you. Graham said I took you for granted, and I was planning on trying to change that. But I needed some Dutch courage first. And then I just ended up drinking the whole bottle. It's a bit of a blur after that.
"Mm," she agreed, spreading liberal amounts of butter on her toast. "You told me you loved me," she added with a glare. "Not how I wanted to hear that."
"I can do nothing but apologise," he said sadly.
"Why? Was it not true?" she asked, her blue eyes burning into his.
"Of course its true," he said in a voice like honey. "I'm sorry for the timing."
"That's always been your problem," she said, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.
"I'll leave you to it," he said, after the silence became uncomfortable. "I think I've imposed on you quite enough for one day."
"Wait," she said following him through her hallway. He turned and looked at her with an intensity that took her breath away. "What were you planning to say when you got here last night?"
"I didn't have a plan," he admitted. "I just wanted… it to be perfect. Which is something I fail at more often than I'd like." She was considering him intensely and he couldn't resist leaning down to kiss her lips softly. She responded to him almost immediately, their lips moulding together, so much more perfect than the night before. His hand snaked slowly around her waist and his fingers pressed lightly against her. Their embrace was as soft as last nights had been hard.
"I'm going to go," he whispered in a half broken voice.
"Okay," she replied, her voice not as steady as usual. He felt pleased that he managed to get her like that. But it didn't last long before he left her house, leaving Ruth very breathless, and wondering what had happened to her life over the last twelve hours.