Invite Me: a story about one character asking another to an event

Ruth looked up at Harry as he fidgeted for about the thousandth time that afternoon. They were shut in his office, re-drafting the security arrangements for the upcoming visit of the President of the United States. They'd been working on it for the last couple of hours but Harry hadn't been much help. He'd been out of sorts all day; distracted and fidgety. He was normally so focused on his work, she wondered what had gotten to him. It can't have been the actions of the team; if they had done something they would have known about it. He wouldn't necessarily rant and rave, but would convey his displeasure in his own way; with stony silence and an utter lack of warmth. He would make them twitch for a while before letting them have it.

Sensing Ruth's gaze, Harry glanced up at her, opened his mouth to speak then promptly snapped it shut, returning his eyes to the file in front of him.

Ruth's brow wrinkled in confusion. There was clearly something bothering him and, as much as it might be advisable to do so, Ruth couldn't leave it alone. "Is something wrong Harry?" she asked, setting the file she was studying aside and focusing all her attention on him.

"No. Of course not, I'm fine."

Ruth sighed. "You've been restless all morning, and have hardly contributed anything to this security report. Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"I'm sorry. I'll try and focus."

"I'd rather you told me what was bothering you."

Harry sighed. "Very well. Do you remember my daughter, Catherine?" Ruth nodded, remembering the events of the November Committee operation and how surprised Harry had been to find his daughter in the middle of it. "Well, she's getting married this weekend."

"That's great," Ruth replied, not really understanding what this had to do with his mood; surely his daughter's wedding should be a happy occasion.

"She's asked her stepfather to give her away."

Ruth saw a flash of pain cross Harry's face before he could school his features again, and suddenly it all made sense. She knew that he regretted the fractured relationship he had with his children deeply and that Catherine's actions must have hurt him. She reached out and placed her hand over his sympathetically.

"I'm sorry Harry."

"I know it was a difficult decision for her, I could tell. I suppose I should be grateful for an invite at all but..."

"Go on," she urged him past the unspoken words.

"But I doubt that will make it any easier when I'm stood there watching him give her away and make his 'Father of the Bride' speech."

It was the sort of emotional admission from Harry that she never expected to hear. He didn't talk about his feelings much, especially in regard to painful ones. Ruth felt a mild twinge of surprise even as her heart tightened in painful sympathy for her boss and friend. "I wish there was something I could say to make it better."

"You could always come with me?"

"I'm sorry?"

"To the wedding," he explained sheepishly.

Ruth was startled by the request, so much so that she couldn't quite form a reply.

"Forget it," Harry told her, wanting to let her off. "It was a silly idea."

"N-no. It wasn't. I just wasn't expecting it."

"It's alright, Ruth. I'll understand if you don't want to, or you already have plans. Like I said it-"

"What time?"

"Sorry?"

"What time is the wedding?"

"Half past four; it's a late ceremony and there's no sit down meal… I suspect due to Catherine and Fabien not wanting to wrangle with the seating arrangements. Fabien's parents are also divorced and remarried. Does this mean you'll come?"

"Yes."

Okay. Thank you. I'll pick you up at half three?"

She nodded and turned back to her work. The tension in the room, the awkward silence, had fled as though it had never existed. Strange, Ruth thought, how a single unspoken issue could disrupt the harmony in which she and Harry usually worked.

She was relieved, but it was more than that. She was happy. Happy that Harry trusted her enough to speak with her about the things that were bothering him; that he would want her to accompany him to his daughter's wedding.

Ruth anxiously studied her reflection in her the mirror. When she'd agreed to attend Catherine's wedding, she hadn't given so much as a second thought to what she might wear. It was only when she got home that night that she realised she didn't really own anything suitable. So she had hastily arranged a shopping trip with an old friend, who had convinced her to buy a dress that she wasn't entirely comfortable with. It was tighter and lower cut than anything she had ever worn in front of Harry before.

She was nervous now too about what this evening might bring. There was no denying that the two of them had a unique bond, but going to this wedding together was going to add a new dimension to their relationship. It was easy to keep things platonic when the time that they did spend together was consumed by work. Perhaps that was why they didn't socialise together that often in the first place. To get familiar with Harry in a non-business setting was a slightly dangerous proposition.

Her doorbell rang at 3.25 sharp and Ruth smiled at his punctuality; a remnant of his army training. She left her bedroom, shutting the light off behind her. She grabbed her handbag off the hall table and smoothed the front of her long, dark blue dress before opening the front door.

"Hi," Harry greeted. He was wearing a light grey suit with a blue shirt and it made him look quite dashing indeed. But she couldn't let him see that.

"Hi."

Harry's eyes gazed over her figure appreciatively. "You look… beautiful Ruth."

She blushed. "You don't look too bad yourself," she replied.

He smiled. "Are you ready?"

She nodded and stepped out into the street, closing and locking the door behind her. Harry placed one hand on the small of her back as he led her to his car.

"So, are you going to give me some background on the bride and groom… so I don't make a fool of myself."

"I doubt you will, but okay," he smiled. "Fabian is a French photographer. Catherine met him when she was filming a documentary about Palestinian refugees. It was well put together and made a good argument. The first time I saw them together was at the premiere for that; and I could tell by the way he looked at her that he loved her very much. They've been together for two years and have lived together for the past six months, much to Jane's displeasure. He's seem like a good man, no terrorist connections at any rate!"

He finished his recitation and then looked at her with embarrassed chagrin. He sounded like he was briefing her on the latest threat to national security, he realised. And judging from her grin, she had picked up on that, too. Her grin was infectious, and soon, he found himself smiling as well. It was certainly going to be an interesting day.

The sunny, warm, late June day was made to order for an outdoor wedding, Ruth thought, surveying the tastefully decorated pavilion in the park on the river. Harry had gone to find Catherine, to give her his best wishes and his blessing before the ceremony, leaving Ruth to fend for herself.

However much she might protest the thought, she felt awkward and isolated without Harry by her side, without his guiding hand at her elbow. She knew no-one, and could feel the curious glances of the other guests, each wondering about her relationship with Harry. Harry returned after about fifteen minutes and rescued Ruth from her uncomfortableness. Quickly, they found their seats, a few rows behind Jane and Robin's families.

"How was she?" Ruth enquired.

"She was fine; not nervous in the slightest. She was surprised to discover I'd brought a guest."

"She didn't know I was coming?"

"She told me I could bring someone if I wanted to, I just don't think she expected me too. She wants to meet you, after the ceremony."

Ruth was saved from having to think of an appropriate response, by the dulcet tones of the string quartet, announcing Catherine's arrival. All eyes turned to watch. She looked dazzling, dressed in a slim white dress that flowed like the moon on the water. As she passed her father, she smiled broadly and Ruth saw him swell with pride at his beautiful daughter.

The ceremony was short and simple, and Harry and Ruth stood silently, side by side. The vows were made, rings were exchanged, and the traditional kiss shared. Once it was all over, the newlywed couple made their way up the aisle to a lilting flute melody.

Harry hung back while most of the other guests wished the couple well. Ruth followed his lead, suspecting that he wanted some privacy for the conversation. Whilst they waited, Ruth engaged him a conversation about the music during the ceremony and discovered the flautist was a school friend of Catherine's who now played with the London Symphony Orchestra.

They were about to make their way closer to the newlyweds when a young man with a slightly dishevelled mane of blonde hair, approached them. Ruth felt Harry tense up and turned to ask him what was wrong, but was cut off when the young man spoke.

"Decided to put in an appearance then? Jesus, however will the country cope without you," he remarked sarcastically.

"Hello Graham," Harry replied stoically. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, though I'm surprised you care." Graham then turned to Ruth. "You must be his latest squeeze," he commented, looking her up and down, before addressing his father again. "I give you credit though, she's younger than your usual type. Hotter too. If I didn't know you better I'd wonder if you weren't having a midlife crisis."

Harry clenched his fist. "Not that it's any of your business, but this is Ruth," he told his son through gritted teeth, "and I'd prefer it if you didn't speak about her that way."

"Oh, sorry. Does she not know about your dubious history with women? I'm sorry love, but you're just the latest in a long line of tarts who-"

His tirade was cut short by the appearance of his older sister. "Graham? Mum's looking for you." Sighing, Graham turned without a word and made his way towards the marquee. "I'm sorry Dad," Catherine said, once Graham was out of earshot.

He dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand. "You shouldn't be apologising for your brother."

Catherine turned her attention to her father's companion. "You must be Ruth? It's nice to meet you. Please do excuse my brother, he can be a colossal idiot at times, and doesn't think before he speaks."

Ruth also dismissed her apology. "It's fine, honestly," she told her, before changing the subject. "It's nice to finally meet you. Your father has told me a lot about you."

"Really?" Catherine asked, a little unconvinced.

"Yes. Just the other day he was telling me all about your documentary on Palestinian refugees." It was a little white lie of course, but Ruth felt it was warranted in this case. Catherine needed to know that her father loved her and was proud of her and she knew he was too stubborn to tell her himself.

"I didn't even know you seen it," she said to her father.

"I was at the premiere," he admitted. "I snuck away as soon as it finished; I was unsure if I'd be welcome."

Catherine was clearly moved by this piece of information. "You would have been welcome. Very much so. Stay next time, please?"

"I will," he assured her. "Listen, I was thinking that perhaps Ruth and I should leave. I don't want to give your brother any more chances to cause a scene."

"Please don't. I'll deal with Graham, but please stay. I want you too. Besides, it's not fair to bring a beautiful woman to a wedding and not dance with her," she instructed, throwing him a knowing look as Fabien joined them.

Harry and Ruth stood at the edge of the dance floor, sipping champagne as they watched Catherine and Fabien, dance their first dance as man and wife. They had managed to avoid any further confrontations with Graham and were having a lovely evening. The only black spot had been Robin's speech, in which he had spoken of how proud he and Jane were of their daughter. Harry had bristled and moved to get up and walk out, but Ruth had stayed him with a hand on his knee, earning her a grateful smile from Catherine. Afterwards. Catherine had dispensed with tradition, making her own speech, in which she thanked Jane, Robin and Harry. Hearing her words, Harry had been grateful that Ruth had prevented him from leaving and had clasped Ruth's hand, where it had still lain on his leg.

As the music from the first dance died down, Catherine and Fabien broke apart and he went to ask Jane to dance. Robin was clearly waiting for Catherine to follow suit and ask him, but instead she approached Harry.

"I believe it's tradition for the bride to dance with her father on her wedding day," she whispered.

"I believe you're right." He took her hand and led her onto the dance floor.

"You look beautiful today," Harry told her, as they swayed. "I know I'll not win any awards for Dad of the Year, but I do love you and I'm so very proud of you."

Catherine looked into her father's eyes. "I know. I think I've always known, I've just been too stubborn to admit it. I'm sorry about Robin giving me away. I should have stood my ground with Mum."

"Sssh," he admonished gently. "It's enough just to be here. To share today with you."

"And Ruth?" Catherine asked cheekily as she engineered the conversation around to the secondary purpose of dancing with her father.

"Catey..." he warned.

"What?" she asked, feigning innocence.

Harry chuckled. "Subtlety never was your strong point."

"Subtlety is overrated. She seems nice Dad. I don't think I've ever seen you smile as much as you have today. You obviously like her."

"We're friends, we work together..."

"And you fancy the pants off her! Admit it."

"Ruth is certainly a beautiful woman," he replied. Catherine raised an eyebrow at him and he relented. "Okay, okay. Yes, I like her, but that doesn't mean she feels the same."

"I think she does, I mean she-" Harry gave her a look. "Okay. But let me say one more thing; you'll never know how she feels unless you ask. And don't forget, she deserves a dance for coming with you this evening."

"Technically, that's two things."

Catherine merely shrugged and settled back into her father's embrace, leaving him to ponder her words.

It was a few hours later that Harry had the chance to act on his daughter's words. After he had danced with her, the music changed to more of a disco style, not something he felt he could dance too. So he settled for enjoying Ruth's company over drinks and the light buffet. They shared stories from their past; happy, sad, poignant and funny ones and by the time the music changed again, they felt closer than they ever had before.

Ruth stifled a yawn as a slower song flowed through the air. "Sorry," she offered.

Harry looked at his watch. "I think we can let you off given that it's nearly midnight. We should probably think about making a move soon."

"Whenever you're ready," Ruth told him, not wanting to rush him away.

"We'll go in a few minutes," he replied, standing. "There's something I need to do first." He held out his hand. "I seem to remember I promised you a dance."

"Actually, your daughter made the promise on your behalf. As such I don't plan on holding you to it, not if you don't want to."

"And what if I do want to?"

Ruth took his hand and stood. "Then I will gladly accept."

The song changed once more as they walked hand in hand onto the dance floor; it was another slow one thankfully. Harry vaguely recognised it, but couldn't name it; the most he could tell you about it was that it from a film he hadn't seen. But that knowledge disappeared along with a thousand other mundane thoughts as her took Ruth in his arms for the first time.

Ruth rested her head against Harry's shoulder and they swayed gently to the music, alone in their own world. Harry smiled inwardly to himself. He tightened his arms around Ruth, not wanting to ever let her go. He knew that Ruth was the only one in the world who was right for him. All the women who had come before her were just warm up acts, even Jane. Ruth was his soul-mate.

"Thank you for coming with me today Ruth; you've been a great support and, I've actually enjoyed myself quite a bit."

"Good. I'm glad I could help. And for what it's worth, I've had a good time too."

Unable to resist any longer, Harry leaned down and brushed his lips lightly against hers. She looked up at him, directly into those beautiful hazel eyes that were looking intently at her, gleaming with a look that she'd never seen there before. He kissed her again, longer this time, and deeper; his lips like silk against hers, his hand caressing her back, pulling her toward him, pressing their bodies closer together. She responded in kind; her tongue teasing his lips, requesting permission to enter.

Across the room, Catherine watched them dancing and smiled. Ruth was nice, and seemed to be good for her father. It was also glaringly obvious that they felt something for each other. She hoped they'd be as happy as she and Fabien were.