Not sure how much more there is. Oh, and I don't own Thomas the Tank either!
Harry had set the table and opened a bottle of wine. Ruth eventually came back downstairs.
"He's asleep," she said simply and sat down.
"Thank you, Ruth."
She only nodded and took a sip of wine. He served up the food and they sat quietly eating it.
"Was it difficult," he glanced upstairs, "after Nico?"
"No, Harry."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. It was different. Nico was older and more reserved, so I had to work harder when I was first with him. James is….younger, more giving, more in need, I suppose."
He nodded.
"It was nice, he snuggled down and held my hand and I read him a story."
"Don't tell me. Thomas the Tank."
"Oh, you've read it," she said smiling.
"Only about nine times and I've only had him for four days!"
She laughed. "You're doing a good job, you know."
"Do you think so?" he needed reassurance.
"Yes, I think so."
He smiled.
"You love him already, don't you?"
"I can't tell you the things I thought, Ruth. When they told me about him I was full of dread and horror." He smiled at himself, "Harry Pearce filled with horror at the thought of a small boy."
"Makes a change from dirty bombs and chemical weapons."
He laughed.
"I thought he was going to stop my life in its tracks. Funnily enough I was right, he has, but not in a bad way."
"Would you wish that your strange visitors had never shown up, never told you about him?"
"No." He said it quickly and simply and it was a surprise even to him how very certain he felt.
Ruth smiled at him. "It suits you, you know…fatherhood."
"In what way?"
She didn't want to say it made him more attractive, that she spent even more time than usual thinking about him and so instead she said, "It just does."
"Glad your analysis on the grid is better than that, Ruth."
"Is there any more wine?" she asked changing the subject.
They cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher and then returned to the living room and sat on the now restored sofa, close but not too close.
"Thank you for tonight, Ruth."
"It's okay, I wasn't doing anything."
"It means a lot."
"As I say, it's not a problem."
"Ruth….." he feared to finish the sentence.
"I should be going soon," she said.
He didn't want her to go, now…later….ever.
"At least the nanny will be here tomorrow," he said in an attempt to stop her thinking too much about what was happening and instead focus on the pretty young girl she'd noticed in the photograph.
"Oh, yes, the nanny. I bet you're looking forward to that?"
"You can say that again," he answered enthusiastically.
"I'm sure she'll be very good, even if she is rather young."
"The younger the better, I'd say."
She looked at him, she knew that look, that playful look that meant he was toying with her.
"Harry, is she really you're new nanny?"
"Yes, apparently."
"Oh."
"Do you have a problem with her, Ruth. Do you not fancy the look of her?"
"No, but you obviously do," said Ruth without thinking.
He sat and smiled at her, whilst she flushed with embarrassment.
"Ruth," he said and this time he was brave. He picked up her hand ignoring her surprise and placed it on the centre of his chest and held his own hand over hers.
"Can you feel that?" he asked.
She nodded, nervously.
"Some people think I'm heartless, Ruth and they'd be right in a way. I did have a heart. But I gave it away." He searched her face, hoping, "It's all yours, Ruth, it always has been."
He held his breath and wished.
She said nothing.
He waited.
She said nothing.
"Did I overdo it?" he asked hesitantly.
"No, Harry. You did... just perfect."
And very gently, very slowly she moved towards him. When they could feel each other's breath on their lips they both paused, it was not hesitation, it was as if both recognised that this had taken so, so long, that it wasn't to be rushed now, relished but not rushed.
Ruth thought the moment magical, Harry thought it tantalising. It was something neither would ever forget.
"Daddy" came a small voice from the stairs.
"Bed!" said Harry not even looking. James knew his father enough even after four days to recognise that tone. He turned and padded back up the stairs.
"What is it?" asked Harry to a smiling Ruth.
"I wasn't sure who you were talking to, James or me?"
Harry realised to what she was referring.
"It worked with him, is it likely to work that well with you, Ruth?"
"Try me and see!" she said and smiled some more.