AN: Alright, I should be taken out back and flogged for the amount of time it's taken me to update this. My apologies to rosetintedblindspot, celeste92, Mja, Chantale, and the lovely guest reviewers who've kindly and patiently asked for updates. I've lost the notebook that had the entire outline for this story in it, so I'm back at square one, but that shall not defeat me, and I promise to update/finish this one before starting the numerous other HR stories I've outlined and stored safely...in rosetintendblindspots e-mail. ^^ P.s. this was not beta'd ahead of time, all mistakes are my fault, and mine alone.
"I am still here," Ruth mutters, hands spread across her growing stomach. Looking around, she glares at the various Spooks who have been ignoring her since Harry had first called them. Following Wes' tattling to Harry on their run-in with Peter at the market, her husband had all but drug her into their house, groceries' temporarily forgotten in the boot as he'd bellowed for Adam. The younger man had quickly met them in the kitchen, his counterparts following close behind in what could only be described as a slapstick comedy routine, and had she been of a different disposition, she probably would have laughed.
But as it was, her run in with Peter followed by her husband's 'I am man, you my woman' routine had left her snappish, and so they were unamusing as they staggered into each other.
She's currently sat in the chair Harry had all but pushed her into, his hands on her shoulders as he stands behind her talking to the others. "I want to know what he was doing in that market," he says, fingers lightly squeezing her shoulder blades.
"It's entirely possible he was just doing his shopping like he said, " Ruth says, her frustration growing when it becomes apparent that not one person in the room is listening to a work she says.
"We'll see what we can find from routine surveillance." Lifting his eyes from the pad of paper he's jotting notes on, Adam meets his bosses eyes. "There is a problem though."
"I know," Harry says, shoulders tense with frustration. "This cannot be an official operation. Peter has connections to at least the National Security Office and who knows where else. While national security cannot suffer, I refuse to leave Ruth or the twins vulnerable. As of now, this is an eyes only operation to those in this room." Pausing, he looks around the room, seeing the agreement in their eyes and postures. "Right, we'll need to work out who will be with Ruth when I can't."
"I will not be looked after as though I'm a child; contrary to what any of you might think."
Again, those in the room ignore her, and it's as they're discussing contingent plans and sub-dermal tracking devices that she finally has enough. Shrugging free of Harry's grip, she carefully leverages herself up, silently cursing whichever twin is currently pressing against her left sciatica, thwarting any chance of a graceful but angry exit.
"Ruth, where are you going?" Harry asks, watching in confusion as his wife limps from the room.
"To my gilded cage," she snaps, not turning around. "I'm sure you'll let me know when, if ever, I'm allowed to leave the house again."
He finds her upstairs, sitting on the floor of the box room heatedly sorting through one of the many boxes strewn about the room. Stopping in the doorway, he watches in cautious amusement as she mutters under her breath, cursing him in English and any number of other languages as she angrily pulls another trinket from the large box.
"Tā māde niǎo kuà xià wù" (Goddamned penis) She mutters in Mandarin, shoving the now empty box to the side. As she bends towards the next box, she stops, wincing as pain shoots down her leg. "You're as annoying as your father," she gasps, her quest for the box forgotten as she quickly braces herself.
"You don't mean that," he says, frowning at her apparent pain, he crosses the room, squatting awkwardly next to her, his fingers reaching for the tender nerve he knows has been bothering her. At her look of contempt, he gracelessly sits next to her, slowly easing her into a reclining position as he says, "I may be annoying," he clarifies, relaxing some as she doesn't pull away. "But you aren't angry with our children."
"I may be," she moans, leaning further into him as he works to alleviate her pain.
"You're not," he says softly, mouth close to her ear as his fingers knead her lower back. "You're angry with me."
Her 'I am' is said on a sigh, eyes closing as the sharp, shooting twinge is replaced with the a milder, throb. She's quiet for a few minutes, the tension seeping from her body as his hands gradually make their way to her bump.
"I'm sorry."
His whispered apology is punctuated with a leisurely kiss to the side of her neck, a quick nuzzle as he holds her close.
"I'm pregnant Harry, not an invalid. And I'm tired of constantly being the victim in this little play Peter seems to be acting out." Eyes opening she turns her face to look at him. "I refuse to live my life in fear of what may happen."
"And I'm not going to apologize for protecting you," he says, holding her tighter. "He's deranged, at least to a degree, and he's the power of Juliet behind him."
"Harry..."
"We'll discuss some modifications," he says, gently kissing her cheek as he caresses their children, "but if you think I'm not going to do everything in my power to protect the three of you, you're being daft."
AN: If you've a moment, please leave a review. They're my crack...and have the added benefit of reminding me to update. More soon. xoxo