Enamour Me: A fluffy drabble about one character trying to woo another [be it out of the blue/Valentine's Day.]
Ruth sat up in bed, awakened by a loud knock at the door. She sighed pulled herself out of bed grabbing her dressing gown as she ran to answer the door.
"Ruth Evershed?" asked the delivery boy, holding a red box under one arm and a clipboard under the other.
"Yes, that's me," she mumbled still half asleep but focused on the box.
"I have a delivery for you. You'll need to sign for it." He handed her the clipboard and pen, and she signed as instructed before handing them back.
"Here you go. Have a nice day."
"Thanks," she replied, accepting the box he handed her. She closed the door and walked into the living room, sitting down on the couch, the box on her lap. Carefully, she pulled off the bow and lifted the lid. Inside, lay between several sheets of green tissue paper, was a single red rose and a small card. Leaving the rose, she read the card.
When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed:
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O! love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love, loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flattered be.
Shakespeare's Sonnet 138, an MI-5 favourite. Well, that certainly narrowed down the options of who could have sent it, not that there was a very large list in the first place. She mentally ran through all the men she worked with. It wouldn't be Adam, he was happily married so that left Malcolm, Colin or Zaf.
Well, there was one other… Harry… but it wouldn't be him, no matter how much she secretly wished it was. He wouldn't look twice at someone as bookish as her.
She didn't recognise the handwriting on the card but then again, the florist had probably written it.
Trying to work out who had sent it, occupied her thoughts completely whilst she was showering and readying herself for the day. By the time she left for work, forty minutes later, the rose was in a small crystal vase that ha once belonged to her Grandmother, and Ruth had convinced herself that it was nothing more than a wind up from Zaf; a grand finale to the teasing he'd been subjecting her to all week.
When she arrived at work, the office was in darkness save for the lamp on her desk. It shone brightly, illuminating another offering; a large cup of coffee and a croissant. Ruth looked around, there was no one around; even Harry's office was empty.
She looked at the coffee, it was from an upmarket coffee shop that she loved but only ever visited as a treat. She removed the plastic lid from the cup and a heavenly scent filled her nostrils; Vanilla Spice Latte, her favourite.
She removed her coat and scarf and, for the first time since she began working for MI-5, she sat down without turning her computer on. She leaned back slightly in her chair and enjoyed a luxurious breakfast.
When Zaf, who Ruth still suspected of being behind the gifts, walked in chatting animatedly with Jo he looked at the half empty cup and half eaten pastry. "Nice breakfast Ruth? Could have bought some for the rest of us," he remarked. "I'm starving!"
"Should have been up earlier then," replied Jo. She turned to Ruth to explain. "Ignore him, he overslept and has been rushing around like a headless chicken ever since."
Startled by the realisation that Zaf couldn't possibly be behind the coffee and croissant, Ruth was back at square one. But she vehemently refused to give in to the flicker of hope that was forming in her stomach; the one that kept repeating one name over and over. Harry.
Almost as soon as the rest of the team had left the Grid, Harry appeared in the doorway of his office. "Ruth, can you come in here for a moment please?"
Ruth stood and obediently entered his office. "Harry? Wh-what's this?" she asked.
"It's for you, Ruth," he said, his eyes dancing lightly. "It's for both of us."
The main lights in the office were off and small white fairy lights and candles were lying across his desk. In the middle of the room lay a blanket, which was set out as a picnic. Two plates, flutes, sets of silverware, and napkins adorned the blanket.
Ruth looked from the blanket to Harry and back again for a moment before speaking. "All this to discuss the weekly threat assessment?" Ruth commented dubiously. When Harry didn't respond, she spoke again. "That is why I'm here isn't it; the security of the nation?"
"Can we discuss that over dinner?" Harry gestured to Ruth to sit down.
Relenting, she smoothed her skirt and sat on the blanket in front of the place setting. Harry having retrieving two take away containers from his desk, knelt down opposite her and piled steaming spaghetti and sauce onto the two plates. He seated himself opposite to Ruth at the floor-table. The warm tomato fragrance of the pasta filled the room, adding to the cosy atmosphere of the dimly-lit office.
Ruth watched as Harry, sitting cross-legged on the blanket, his tie loose and shirt sleeves rolled up, fiddled with the tape on the neck of the wine bottle. After a few moments of struggle, the tape caught and pulled away from the bottle. Ruth found herself smiling while she watched Harry's battle with the tape and bottle-cork. Finally, after freeing the cork from the bottleneck, Harry turned his attention back to Ruth, who held out her glass for him to fill. Harry could tell, subtle though the change was, that Ruth's demeanour was becoming more relaxed. She sat flat on the floor with her legs stretched out beside her on the blanket. One hand rested at her side while she stirred the steaming spaghetti with the other, waiting for it to cool.
A stray strand of hair fell across her forehead. How Harry longed to reach across to her and smooth the hair back from her face. Oh, to kiss her, he thought. He'd give anything to be able to take her into his arms and kiss her. He wanted to feel her arms around him; her head resting on his shoulder...
"Harry?" the sound of Ruth speaking his name transported Harry from his daydreams back to reality. "Harry? I think it's cooled enough to eat now," Ruth gestured with her fork to the plate of spaghetti in front of her.
Harry blushed to have been caught daydreaming. Looking down at his plate, swirled the pasta on his fork, then took a big bite. He nodded decisively, as if making a wordless comment on the good quality of the food. Ruth began eating also, being careful not to drip sauce on her blouse or skirt.
"Mmmm, this is good," Ruth commented after a few bites.
"It is," Harry agreed.
Ruth sipped the wine and felt the cool, dark liquid as it slid down her throat. The flavour of the wine was dark and dry; a complement to the spicy panache that was the spaghetti sauce. The mingling tastes and combinations were almost a surprise in what was such a soft and dimmed atmosphere Harry's office. The food brought a splash of vibrancy to overall calm that the room was not usually enveloped in.
Ruth looked at Harry sitting across from her, eating the spaghetti. He seemed different; more...content than his usual office self.
Harry glanced up and caught Ruth's eye. "What?" he asked with a laugh in his voice.
"Oh... nothing," Ruth responded, looking a bit startled. "It's just that you have a little, um," she sipped the wine before continuing, "on your chin," Ruth gestured to her chin, thinking Harry would understand what she meant.
"What?" he asked again, a bemused look crossing his face.
"Sauce," Ruth said with a small smile. "On your chin. You have sauce on your chin!" she laughed whilst Harry wiped the sauce away with his napkin.
"Gone?" He asked, setting set down the napkin.
Ruth nodded, still chuckling, "Yes. All gone."
Harry admired her. He'd never seen her as relaxed as this; she was usually quite reserved. It was good to hear her laugh. To him, Ruth's laugh was a free and liberating sound. A sound he did not often hear, but yet there was a great familiarity to it. When she laughed, it was as though he was seeing the woman inside. The real woman, not just the analyst with whom he shared an office and files.
"You're beautiful when you laugh," Harry whispered.
"Harry…" Ruth replied hesitantly but all her worries ebbed away when saw the love and need in her eyes. Harry reached out and gently caressed her cheek, his thumb rubbing small circles and his fingers tracing her jawline. They never dropped eye contact, for their eyes spoke all the emotions words just couldn't say. It was all the words they needed.
Harry slowly leaned forward, his head tilted slightly, and their lips met in a sweet, gentle kiss.
When they pulled apart Harry was smiling down at her. "I've wanted to do that for a while."
"Me too," Ruth admitted, her cheeks reddening slightly. "But I didn't think you'd look at me twice." Harry's raised an eyebrow. "I've read your file, remember and I've met Juliet, your romantic history is littered with confident, glamorous, beautiful women. It's hardly me is it?"
"I happen to think you're extremely beautiful, and not only when you laugh. And your certainly not lacking in confidence; I think you've proved that on several occasions by challenging me, don't you."
"Perhaps. So, am I to take it that you were behind the rose this morning and then breakfast on my desk?"
"Guilty as charged," Harry replied with a grin. "Did you suspect… before all this I mean?"
"I knew it had to be someone from here; the sonnet was a bit of a giveaway. I didn't dare hope it would have come from you. I thought it was probably Zaf."
Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Zaf? Is this something I need to worry about?"
Ruth smiled. "No. You know how cheeky he is. He's been teasing me all week; saying that he was sure the postman would break his back carrying all the Valentine's cards I was sure to receive."
"Did you get one from anyone else?" Harry asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.
"No. Just yours. But that was the only one I wanted."