AN: I'm so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. Thursday I had some car trouble with not one but two different cars and wound up being late for an audit so I didn't get home until later from work. Yesterday, well, I was kidnapped by my mother who wanted to finish her Christmas shopping and needed a ride to the various stores; apparently telling her I needed to write HR fanfic for my readers or they'd do unthinkable things to me wasn't enough to sway her. So here you go...my offering for the advent calendar that will now be following the Eastern Orthodox holiday calendar instead of more western holiday calendars. Please let me know what you think of the story; good or bad, I would like to know your honest thoughts. And please remember this is an AU fic in which I do know the characters are OOC.
It's December 31st, 23.30 pm. Outside the registry, crowds of people prepare to ring in the New Year; but inside, Harry is preparing to marry what he has come to realize is his soul mate. As he stands in the gents and straightens his tie, he has time to reflect on the last week.
From their engagement just seven days prior to his daughter's wedding and the disastrous Christmas dinner with his son; one which Ruth had warned him to tread softly and he had ignored; to finding out just how stubborn his soon-to-be wife could be. He had thought he had known.
And so he had been shocked that night after seeing his son out when Ruth had looked at him standing in the entry, cocked her head to the side before patting his cheek, informed him the dishes needed to be done, and she was going to bed.
In the guest room.
He'd thought she had been kidding.
For all of five seconds.
As she had stood on her tip toes and kissed him softly, she had pulled back and headed to the stairs.
Flashback
"Where are you going?" he asks, disbelief filling him as her bare feet make no sound on the steps.
"To bed." Without turning around, she continues up the steps. As she reaches the top, she hears him sputter behind her. A soft smile forming on her face, she stops and finally turns to look at him. "Is there a problem?"
"The dishes. They're not done." Hand on the banister, he looks up at her.
"I know. I cooked. An entire meal that I had no warning nor no time to prepare for might I add. It's only fair you do the dishes."
"But there's so many of them." He stops and clears his throat, disturbed by the whine he heard filling his voice. "It'll take me at least an hour to clean everything."
"Then you'd better get started."
With that, she turned and walked down the hall.
An hour and a half later, Harry finishes drying the last pan and sets it in the correct cupboard. Hanging the tea towel to dry, he looks around the immaculate kitchen and sighs. How could one meal for four people create such a mess? Flipping the light switch off, he makes his way into the sitting room and unplugs the lights of the Christmas tree. Checking on the animals, he finds them curled in their beds asleep and smiles.
Perfect. No animals to contend with as he makes Ruth work towards apologizing to him for how she reacted to tonight.
Making his way upstairs, Harry begins unbuttoning his shirt as he steps into their darkened room. Pulling the shirt free from his trousers, he drops it in the hamper as he steps into the en suite. "I'll have you know you're going to pay for that darling." he says, flipping on the light. Stepping to the sink in his trousers, he picks up his tooth brush and as he listens for her response, begins brushing his teeth.
As he finishes the right side, he realizes he has not heard a response from her and frowns. Tooth brush in his mouth, he makes his way into their bedroom and stops in the open door. Looking at the bed, his frown deepens as he isn't seem her frame curled in the darkness. Pulling the brush from his mouth, he steps closer. "Ruth?"
Getting no answer, he walks around the bed and looks down.
It's empty.
She had come upstairs. He had watched her an hour and a half ago. Her flannel was currently drying in the en suite, tooth brush was dripping. No, she had definitely come up. Crossing back to the en suite, he quickly rinses his mouth and brush out, hanging it to dry next to hers.
Stepping into their room again, he flips on the light and sees her clothes from earlier in the hamper. She was definitely here. But where. And then he remembers - she had mentioned the guest room. Stepping to the hall, he looks to the right and sees the door closed. Underneath, a faint light can be seen. Striding down the bare wood, he reaches the door and pushes it open. Seeing her in the bed, propped against the headboard with reading glasses on her face and book in her lap, he frowns.
"What are you doing?"
"Reading." she says, looking up from her book for a moment before going back to it.
"I can see that." he says dryly, stepping further into the room. "I meant, what are you doing in here?"
With a sigh, she picks up her bookmark and places it between the pages. Setting the book next to her, she removes her glasses and looks at him. "You have been making decisions all day; assuming that whatever you want is what will happen; never giving any thought to what I might want. While that may be how it has to be at work, our marriage will not. We'll be equal partners in this marriage or we won't be partners at all. So I'll be sleeping in the guest room until our wedding."
"I see." As he says this, he undoes his belt and pulls it from his trousers. Dropping it to the floor, he undoes them, pushing them down with the belt. Standing there in Hugo Boss purple plaid trunks, he looks at her a moment before crossing to the other side of the bed. Lifting the duvet, he climbs under it, settling on his back next to her. The bed is uncomfortable, the pillow flat, and the side wrong, but Ruth is here and thus he will make do.
"What are you doing?" She asks, turning to look at him.
"Going to sleep."
"Your bed is down the hall." She's dumbfounded as his eyes close.
"Hmm." Eye opening, he peaks at her. "But you're here."
"Yes, I know. This is my room. At least for the foreseeable future."
"Then I'll sleep here as well."
"When I said I would be sleeping in the guest room until our marriage, I meant alone." Picking up her book, she moves it to the nightstand.
"I know what you meant; that isn't happening." Both eyes opening, he turns his head to look at her, offering a glare of his own as she stares at him.
It had happened.
Which is why Harry called in a slew of favors to arrange this New Years Eve wedding in only seven days. Hands dropping to his side, he stares in the mirror and smiles. Tonight the woman he loves will be his wife. As he checks his hair, the door opens. Watching in the mirror, he sees his son stepping in and smiles at the progress that has been made.
Because of Ruth.
Turning, he sees Graham step further into the room, leaving the door shut.
"Is everything alright? Ruth hasn't changed her mind?" he asks.
"No. Nothing of the sort. Last I saw her, Catherine and that lovely woman Jo were putting some finishing touches on her hair and make-up." Hands in his pocket, Graham rocks on his feet as he watches the father he has only just begun to reconnect with.
"She doesn't need it." Harry says firmly, looking at his sleeves a moment before being satisfied he's as put together as he can be. "She's beautiful as she is."
"You don't have to tell me. I'm still trying to figure out what a woman as intelligent and as beautiful as she is sees in a man like yourself." Stopping his rocking motion, Graham clears his throat. "She uh, actually sent me in here."
"Really?" Eyebrow raised, Harry stares at his son. "Wanting to make sure I haven't changed my mind?"
"No. Actually she said she'd be surprised if you weren't already waiting at the makeshift altar waiting for her." Shaking his head, Graham has to smile at the thought of his future stepmother. She had mentioned the fact that Harry probably had men stationed around the building to ensure she couldn't run away and by the lack of nerves he could see in his father, he would have to agree.
"I see." With a patient smile, Harry waits for his son to continue.
"She err..." turning red now, Graham has to wonder at the odd request. "She wanted me to ask you to forgo the tie. To undo the top two buttons of the dark blue shirt she seemed to know you'd be wearing."
AN: I'm thinking one more chapter left in this story though my two-sided brain is currently fighting if it'll be the wedding or the M-Rated wedding night.