"Where's your car, Oliver?" Ruth slurred absentmindedly as Mace led her through the back of The George and out an exit she hadn't realised existed.
"Just one more kiss," Mace implored as he pressed her into the brick wall of the deserted alleyway.
"No, Oliver," Ruth chastised amiably, "You said you'd take me home."
"One more. I'm mad about you," he said cupping her right cheek and gazing deeply into her eyes.
"…Alright," she sighed woozily.
Mace placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Ruth relaxed into it before she felt his hand slide up to cup her breast outside her dress.
"Get off me!" she shrieked, pushing him back clumsily.
The surprise of the rebuff caught Mace off guard and he stumbled back, tripping over his feet embarrassingly. This perceived slight incensed him.
"You frigid bitch," Mace spat before slapping her hard on the cheek he had just moments before cupped tenderly.
Harry heard the shriek reverberate around the alleyway. Adrenaline surged through him as he spun wildly around, searching the alleyway for them. He saw Ruth against the dirty red brick wall. Harry quickly assessed the situation, his pulse thundering through his ears. Mace was advancing on her, spitting out an insult, then clouting her across the face. Harry sprinted towards them, grabbed Mace by the scruff of the neck, and flung him off her.
"Enough," Harry ground out, stranding aggressively over Mace where he was prone on the cobblestones, "Enough."
"Bugger off Harry, I'm busy," Mace answered, winded, but unafraid despite Harry's superior display of strength.
Harry booted Mace in the stomach in answer to the crude remark, and then swung to kick him again.
Ruth had watched, holding her injured cheek, too shocked to move. She had felt dazed first by Mace's unexpected assault and then by Harry's sudden appearance. But at this display of violence Ruth sprung into action.
"Harry, stop. It's okay. I'm okay, really," she soothed.
Harry glanced back at her, breathed in heavily, and then returned his gaze to Mace.
"No, it's bloody not okay!" Harry bellowed, and kicked Mace again.
Mace groaned piteously.
"Stop! Stop it! Harry!" Ruth cried.
Harry stopped, realising he was getting out of hand.
"See Harry, she does want me, after all," Mace coughed.
Harry roared in response, but remembered himself. He wanted to thrash the life out of Mace for continuing with that last comment but realised that Ruth was watching, kind, gentle Ruth, who would always be less than impressed by violence, especially in her name. Never mind. Although Harry was no stranger to violence, he had survived this long in the service using a stronger weapon.
Mace measured Harry up.
"Now, Harry," he began idly, "Have you quite forgotten who I am? You've got quite a nerve, touching me. I'll see you regret it. I'm going to rather enjoy ruining your career, and, hell, your pretty office girl's, too. "
"No, I don't think you will, actually," Harry replied, equally as calm.
He grabbed Mace by the collar again and forced him to his feet, "Do you know why I think that, Oliver?"
Harry spun Mace around and directed his gaze back towards the pub.
"Do you see that, Oliver? It has been brought to my attention, you know, that certain high-up spooks have been using this alleyway to conduct some, shall we say, under-the-table business. I thought it might have been a good idea to install the odd CCTV camera out here, just to keep an eye on things. Turns out my idea has just paid off."
Mace's eyes widened in awareness.
"You know, you should really check for surveillance every time, my friend. An old hat like you should know better. You won't be doing anything to me, or to Ruth, because as soon as you do, a copy of that tape goes straight to the MET," Harry hissed dangerously.
"And what are the pigs going to do, hmm?" Mace laughed uncertainly.
"Alright," Harry reconsidered, "Perhaps you'd prefer me to send this to your wife, then. Rumours are, she's been threatening to leave you. I don't think watching you assault a defenceless young woman will go down well with your lovely family, will it? And don't worry, I'll make sure your daughter-in-law refuses access to your new grandson, too."
"You're married," Ruth gasped, but Mace ignored her.
Mace had been momentarily silenced.
Harry knew he had Mace over a barrel.
"Let's go, Ruth," he said, gently taking her arm and leading her out of the alleyway. "I'll take you home."
"O-Okay," Ruth whispered, unable to stop looking at Mace.
"Oh, here we bloody go!" Mace shouted at their retreating figures, "The real reason why Harry bloody Pearce appears. You do know your knight in shining armour wants you, don't you Ruth? Why do you think he didn't stop me sooner?"
"Ignore him," Harry said to Ruth. But Ruth couldn't.
"That's right. He's been sitting there, salivating at your tits from across the room all night, love! Don't think you're going to end the night without losing your knickers, whore!"
Ruth shakily tried to examine Harry's expression, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. Instead, Harry strode steadily on.
Still muddled, Ruth allowed Harry to lead her out towards the main road. Then she stopped him.
"Harry… I don't… I don't want…" Ruth said nervously.
Harry realised what she meant. He couldn't blame her for questioning his actions, really, after what Mace had just said. And done.
"Ruth," Harry entreated, softening his expression, "You need someone right now. It's just a lift home, from a friend. I promise you are safe with me."
"Yes. Yes, well that's what he said, too," Ruth nodded vigorously, and took off.
"Ruth!" Harry yelled, chasing after her. "Ruth, stop. I understand… but… look, I'm calling my driver. He'll be there the whole time with us, okay?"
"Oh," Ruth stopped, noticing the phone. Her arms were wrapped around herself in comfort. "Okay. Okay… that's… Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. After what just…"
"No, I am. I know you wouldn't… I don't know why he… Mace, said that," Ruth said, remembering what Harry had said about the idea of being with her.
"Is your cheek alright?" Harry asked tenderly.
"Oh. Yeah."
"Let me see," he whispered softly, "Turn your face to the light."
Ruth obeyed. She felt Harry's, eyes sliding over her, assessing her, making her skin prickle. Their gaze then caught; Harry's kind, intelligent brown eyes met Ruth's large, frightened blue-green ones. Harry's breath caught in his chest to see how those eyes gleamed under the streetlight. He wanted to sweep her small figure into his arms and protect her from the world. Irrational, he thought to himself. Stupidly romantic, utterly unfounded…
"I don't think it'll bruise," Harry spoke instead. "Your lip is bleeding a little, though. Let me."
Ruth nodded her consent and Harry gently wiped her lip with his shirtsleeve. Vivid red blood stained pristine white.
"I've wrecked your shirt, now…"
The moment was broken by Harry's car pulling up beside them, with the driver honking the horn loudly.
Harry opened the door for her. Ruth sat in silence, running over the night in her mind, as Harry gave the driver her address and the car pulled smoothly away from the curve. She was finding her increasing sobriety unhappy.
Ruth leant against the cold window, unable to look at Harry and embarrassed beyond belief to think of his driver watching at her in the rear view mirror. She started sobbing quietly.
"Ruth… Ruth… shhh…" Harry soothed.
Ruth kept sobbing. Harry had never had any idea how to handle women crying. Dealing with emotions… was just not his area of expertise, ask anyone. He excelled in battle; enjoyed outsmarting and overcoming… but now they had moved past the point where Harry felt himself to be useful.
But Harry did notice Ruth peeping furtively up at Mike through her tears.
"Mike, the privacy screen please," Harry commanded. "Now, Ruth, he can't see or hear you. Do you want to talk about what happened?"
"Oh, God. What I did tonight…. I can't believe I humiliated myself in front of the whole office with… I was all over him. My boss. My married boss."
"Ruth, don't be silly. That's not what's important," Harry said gruffly.
"Yes, it is. I was awful… I can't believe they all saw… I would have never let him kiss me, I swear, if I had known he was married. Or if I hadn't had so much to drink… I swear, I'm not like that. I can't believe everyone saw me go after a married man. What they must think of me…"
"Never mind what they think of you. I'm just glad you are safe, and so would your colleagues be."
"No, they wouldn't. I feel so… dirty… Everyone in the service knows about his wife, don't they?"
Harry's silence was her answer.
"Oh my God…" Ruth cried brokenly.
"Ruth, don't you think you're focusing on… What about what he… what happened in the alleyway?" Harry stuttered out unsurely, unable to understand why she cared so much about what everyone thought of her, after what Oliver Mace had done.
"God, Harry. You think I haven't been groped before?"
Harry flinched. He couldn't stand to think of her, hurt like that, and more than once, it seemed. Yes, give him a problem to solve, an enemy to overcome, any day, over this.
"Harry," Ruth tried to explain, "I love my job. I am my job, I've come to realise… I don't want to do anything to jeopardise it. The gossip, after this… I'll lose all respect anyone ever had for me. I don't know if I can stand it."
"Nobody would judge you for one… dalliance, for want of a better word, at a party."
Ruth huffed sarcastically.
"Maybe they wouldn't judge you, Harry, but I am not a man, am I? You just wouldn't understand. I've been so stupid all because… I should have listened to myself. You know what I thought when you first introduced me?"
"What was that?"
"I thought… what a creep he was! I couldn't wait to get away from him. Stupid, stupid. And the things he said… God, you do think the tape will be enough, don't you?"
"Mace is a… family man, so to speak. He likes to keep up appearances. If his wife saw that tape… I'm certain he wouldn't risk it."
"Right. Right," Ruth answered, lapsing into thoughtful silence.
"Ruth, about what Mace said… about… me… my intentions-"
Ruth misunderstood what Harry was clumsily trying to say.
"Don't worry, Harry. Of course I know you wouldn't want someone like me," she cut in casuistically, "I know he was just saying it to get to me."
"Ruth, no, you're really very pretty, but…"
"No, no, you don't have to say that," Ruth brushed him off, "I'm not stupid… Well, maybe I am, actually."
"You are not stupid. I blame myself, for not warning you what he was like, for not… acting sooner," Harry caught Ruth's tangent, mistakenly thinking he had answered for Mace's crude suggestions, and that Ruth had no idea he was attracted to her. What was important was that she felt safe around him, because he would never, ever do anything to make her uncomfortable, not like Mace suggested.
"No, Harry. It's me who's to blame. My personal life has always been a mess."
"Ha!" Harry barked out brokenly. "Then you were by no means the only one whose personal life is a mess in that room tonight. Not even the only one in this car."
"I very much doubt that."
"Please. In the service, we all have dreadful personal lives. It's what the job does to you… or perhaps it's the type of person who chooses the job, I don't know."
Ruth laughed wetly.
"I lied tonight," Harry said suddenly.
"What? About what?"
"About my plans for Christmas. With Tasha. Well, we were planning on having Christmas Dinner at my house, that was true. I was looking forward to her cooking for me, actually, it's been so long since… But we broke up two weeks ago. She left me for a man with more money, less baggage, and a knighthood to boot."
"Oh, Harry. I'm sorry," Ruth said softly, forgetting her own pain and reaching out to squeeze his arm in sympathy. This simple gesture made Harry dizzy with the compassion of it.
"You're remarkable, you know? Caring about… me… after what Mace did to you."
Ruth merely lost his gaze and scoffed-self effacingly.
"Well, it's nothing to be sorry for, anyway. Tasha and I were never about anything more than sex, you see. Which is all my relationships ever seem to be about," Harry explained pensively.
"Why did you lie about it?"
"I tell myself, it's because if I don't say I have plans for Christmas, the whole office ends up offering to have me added on to theirs out of charity. Oh, you should hear them, Ruth! A sad old charity case, that's my personal life. No woman, my children don't speak to me… So you're hardly the worst, are you?"
"And then there's Mace, with his wife, and grandson," Ruth added knowingly.
"Yes," Harry agreed forlornly.
"I lied, too."
"Oh?" Harry's interest was piqued.
"When you asked, I made it sound like… but really, I don't want to see my family tomorrow. I don't enjoy Christmas. M-my… step-brother and I, we d-don't get along, and it ruins everything for everyone…"
"Ah," said Harry, sympathetically. "Well, I don't know what happened between you two, but I do know you, and I can't imagine that ever being your fault, Ruth."
They rested their head's back identically against the leather seats of Harry's car. He found his eyes caught in hers again. And then he was leaning in, drawn to her against his will…
"I heard what you said, about me. To Mace," Ruth confessed quietly.
Harry searched is memory for what exactly that was. He had been trying to warn Mace off her… had he said something about Ruth not being Mace's type? Yes, and he had expressed incredulity at Mace's insinuation that Harry was attracted to Ruth, hadn't he? Christ! What a cad he was. He couldn't remember his exact expression, but he would bet he had said something particularly cruel about the idea, which he would now have to dissuade her of, without letting her know that Mace was right, and he was indeed attracted to her. Had found himself thinking about her increasingly often, even, and since way before Tasha had left, truth be told.
He settled on a half-truth.
"Ruth. I'm truly sorry you heard that. It was completely out of line, for your commanding officer to be commenting on. I only meant… to dissuade Mace from you, in my clumsy way. You may not be the type I usually date, but that's because you are too good for me, not the other way round."
"Oh…" Ruth didn't know whether to believe him. A man would say anything when he was caught out like that, wouldn't he? But still, his words had made her feel warmer.
At that point, the car stopped outside Ruth's home. The driver came around and opened Ruth's door for her. Harry didn't know what to say to her.
"Thank you, Mike, was it?" Ruth asked Harry's driver.
"Yes, Miss."
"And thank you, Harry, for… what you did tonight. I should have said so, earlier."
"Of course," Harry answered, mindful of their audience. "Will you be alright?"
"Yes," Ruth smiled honestly, "Yes I will. Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight, Ruth."
Harry and Ruth returned to the grid the next morning with a new sense of camaraderie. Although there was gossip, Ruth felt Harry's silent yet solid presence supporting her from across the grid. They would not mention that night to each other, until two months later, when Ruth was watching Tom shoot Harry, and Mace was storming in to take over the department.