A/N: Thank you all for your kind reviews. I'm still unsure if this has one or two chapters left to go. We'll all have to wait and see what my Muse has in mind. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy this update, set during 3.03. Cheers, S.C.
Tuesday, 13th July 2004 – Ruth's Place
"Harry?" she murmurs, lifting her head sleepily to look behind her.
"It's me. Sorry, I'm so late. Go back to sleep."
She feels the mattress dip and him shuffle closer, feels his lips press against her shoulder and she sighs in contentment. It's been a few days since last they managed to spend a night together, so they'd agreed that – no matter what – Harry would join her at home tonight. Clearly he'd been detained longer than either of them would have liked, but it happens sometimes during an active op and she's just happy to have him near, no matter what the time.
She smiles and shuffles back, pleased when he wraps his arm around her waist and spoons himself around her.
"Alright?" he asks softly.
"I'm glad you're home," is her simple reply.
They're silent after that, each enjoying the warmth of the other, being together, feeling loved.
"I was talking to Zoe yesterday," she murmurs after a bit, too wide awake to fall back asleep immediately. He hums in response, so she continues. "She says Will's invited her to a wedding this weekend."
He's silent for long moments and she's not sure if he's contemplating his response to that, or if he's fallen asleep already.
"Harry?"
"I'm here." He sounds cautious. "Is that... some kind of hint, Ruth?"
"Hint?" She frowns in confusion.
"Zoe and Will going to a wedding."
She smiles. "No. It's just normal conversation, Harry, about two people we both know."
"Ah. Well... I've never met him, but she seems to like him."
"She does. She had him vetted."
"She did."
Silence falls between them once more.
"It got me thinking," she says after a bit, realising that no more comments will be forthcoming from Harry.
"About what?"
"Vetting."
He doesn't respond to that either, so she shifts around in his arms to face him, getting a little frustrated by the one-sided nature of their conversation so far. She can't tell if it's because he's tired and wanting to sleep, or because of other reasons, perhaps his fear of saying the wrong thing and causing friction between them. He's like this sometimes when the topic of conversation is a little off the beaten track and he's unsure of his footing. She wishes he would share more of what he's thinking, but she's sure it will come with time, with a little more patience and love and a few more months together as a couple.
"We're supposed to have done that, aren't we?" she asks once she's lying on her side, watching his reaction. "Not the vetting, I mean. We've both been vetted. Just the paperwork, the-"
"S24," he finishes for her.
"Yes."
He's staring at her, his gaze fathomless in the gloom. "I'm not sure what you want me to say, Ruth."
"I want you to have a conversation about this with me. I want to know, for instance, how much trouble we'll be in when it's discovered that we're seeing each other without filling in the correct paperwork."
He frowns. "I don't think anyone suspects anything, do they?"
"I don't think so," she replies with a fond, little smile as she reaches across to touch his chest. "I noticed Claire at the Home Office was flirting with you as usual the other day, and she didn't stop when I appeared."
"Ah yes," he smiles a little sheepishly, she thinks. "Always good to have a source or two at the Home Office."
"You shameless spy, you!" she admonishes lightly, leaning in for a soft kiss.
His arms snake around her, drawing her in, prolonging the contact and the kiss between them, taking his fill of her and kindling the fire in her that his proximity always rouses.
"Mmm," she hums, fingers running through his hair, hooking her right leg over his hip.
"Do you want me, Ruth?" he asks, voice low and seductive.
"Always," she replies, kissing him some more.
"How much?" His left hand squeezes her bum, pressing her against him, then releasing her, fingers reaching round to stroke her intimately over her pyjamas.
"Much more than bloody Claire at the sodding Home Office."
He chuckles and rolls her underneath him and it's some time before either of them speak again as the room fills with the sounds of their love making.
"Why are you suddenly worried about paperwork?" he asks a little while later. In truth, he would love nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep, but he can feel the tension in her still and he knows she'll not sleep well unless he helps her get her thoughts in order. His experience tells him that, sometimes, she just can't relax even after an orgasm or five. He loves her dearly – this daft, brilliant woman – and he'll do anything for her, including forgo some sleep to make sure she rests too when they finally both succumb to slumber.
"I don't know." She pauses and turns onto her stomach, lifting her head off his shoulder to look down at him. "I suppose it's because I feel... confident in us. I know we'll be alright and I'm not so scared of people knowing any more. I mean, I know it'll be awfully uncomfortable for a few weeks, maybe longer, but I know we'll survive it and it won't be for nothing in the end. So the next logical step is to have a plan for when we feel read to... come out, so to speak, or when we are discovered."
He smiles. He can't help it. Ruth's confidence in their future making his heart sing.
"I don't foresee any consequences for you, Ruth, from filing the appropriate paperwork a little late."
"A little late?! It's been almost a year already, Harry."
He gives her a conspiratorial look. "But they have no way of knowing that, do they?"
"Sneaky spook," she says and he can hear the note of approval in her voice.
"Sneaky is my middle name."
"You said spooky was your middle name." Her eyes twinkle at him.
"Sneaky, spooky, sexy – take your pick."
She laughs then leans down to kiss him. "Change it along with your tie every morning, do you?"
He smiles, then asks suddenly. "What was in that bag Adam put on your desk earlier?"
She frowns. "What bag?"
"The one from that expensive lingerie shop."
That makes her blush and she buries her face in the pillow beside him. He chuckles in amusement, rolling onto his side to face her, his left hand gliding down her back as he nuzzles her neck, making her squeal – he hasn't shaved tonight.
"Stop it!"
He smiles. "Did you think it was from me?" he teases softly. "Should I be buying you skimpy, lacy underwear now, Ruth?"
She huffs, lifting her head abruptly and glaring at him, her hair mussed, cheeks flaming, making her look so very desirable and sexy. "I did, for a moment, wonder if it was from you, but no. I no longer want anything like that and, if you buy me any such thing, I shall refuse to wear it."
His face falls, knowing from experience that she really means that. When Ruth says something in that tone, she's not likely to backtrack any time soon – stubborn, infuriating woman that she is.
"I'm sorry," he says contritely, moving back to give her space, another thing he's learnt about her. "I didn't mean to-"
"Take the mickey?"
"I was aiming for playful teasing. I'm sorry I crossed a line."
She sighs, dropping her face back into the pillow as he watches, fingers crossed for luck. He also knows from experience that an honest apology, followed by an offer to make it up to her, is the quickest way back into her good books. He has rather a lot of experience in saying or doing the wrong thing. Her mind is so different from his own that – while they are frequently on the same wavelength at work and able to bounce ideas off each other in a most gratifying way – away from the Grid, he often has trouble understanding where she's coming from, what she wants and needs, and how on earth they can both begin at the same starting point and reach entirely different conclusions.
"Here," he says softly, daring to reach his hand forward and touch her back, gliding up to her shoulder. "Let me rub your shoulders, Love. You seem unable to relax tonight. Let me help."
She doesn't respond so he gingerly sits up and begins to rub her shoulders for her, feeling rather pleased when she sighs and turns her head towards him, moving her right hand to rest it on his knee as she hums in appreciation.
"What's really bothering you tonight, Ruth?" he asks after a bit, continuing the massage down her back, enjoying her sighs of pleasure.
"You'll think it's stupid."
"I won't. You're the most intelligent person I know. I doubt I'll ever think anything you say is stupid." She doesn't reply immediately, but he just waits patiently for her, continuing the rhythmic motion of his hands, hoping she will confide in him.
"I was jealous," she says eventually.
"Jealous? Of what? Of whom?"
"The others," she confesses quietly, his hands continuing to rub her back to soothe her. "Zoe being able to tell me about Will and her plans for the weekend. And then Adam casually leaving a present for his wife lying on my table. It's stupid, I know, but I want that too. I want to be able to casually mention my plans and talk about my boyfriend and have presents delivered to my work... But it can't happen. You're Harry Pearce – Head of Section. I'll never be able to casually mention our plans without them all feeling uncomfortable and, as to you leaving lingerie bags on my desk, forget it." She sighs, unaware of the turmoil her words have created in him. "I want to be normal like that, I want what we have to be normal, but I also don't because that would mean that you wouldn't be you and I love you and I wouldn't trade you for anyone else in the world." She turns onto her side and sits up, taking his hand in hers. "That's what's bothering me tonight." She gives him a small, crooked smile and drops her gaze self-consciously, her hands toying with his fingers. "I told you it was stupid."
He smiles and gently pulls her into his arms, murmuring into her hair, "I'm sorry, Ruth. I'm sorry I can't give you normal... But, for what it's worth, I don't believe you were ever meant for normal. You're too bright, too beautiful, too brilliant for that. You were born to stand out, Ruth, not to blend in and be normal."
She sighs and tightens her arms around him. "You say the most wonderful, most perfect things to me, Harry."
He kisses her temple, all but sighing in relief, before he decides to quit while he's winning and suggests they get back in bed, at which point, Ruth goes off to the loo while he straightens out the covers. Then they both pull their pyjamas back on and he spoons himself around her, murmuring a quiet goodnight to each other and closing their eyes in peace.
"I like it when you spend the night with me," she mumbles after a moment when he's almost asleep.
"Mmmm," he hums in agreement.
"I wish we could do this every night," she confesses softly, but they're both so near sleep that it's not until much later the following day that he processes the implications of what she's said and he begins to plan accordingly.