"Hello, Scarlet," she coos softly as she crouches down to fuss over the very excited dog who's tail is wagging nineteen to the dozen. "I'm so pleased to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you." Scarlet barks and dashes out the hall and into the kitchen, and she can hear her racing to the end of the room before turning back, skidding to a halt in front of Harry and jumping up against his leg.

"Hello, you silly pup," he smiles, reaching down to scratch her ears. "You're going to make Ruth think you're quite mad, acting like this." Scarlet barks again and dashes out of the room, and Ruth can't help laughing at her excitement. "We don't get a lot of visitors I'm afraid," he explains as he takes her coat from her hands and hangs it up. "She's not normally this excited."

"I think she's adorable," she smiles as she turns to look at Harry, but before she can do or say anything more, Scarlet is back, jumping up at her leg. "Aren't you?" she asks the happy dog as she bends over to stroke her. She looks like she's laughing now with her tongue hanging out of her mouth while she pants, clearly feeling hot after racing around the house. "You're absolutely adorable and I love you already," she adds as Scarlet rolls onto her back, looking up at her expectantly, her eyes dancing with joy. She crouches down to scratch her tummy, smiling in delight at the affectionate creature.

"Tea? Coffee? Something stronger?" Harry asks, moving past them towards the kitchen.

"Tea, please," she replies before returning to fussing over the dog. She'd forgotten how much she likes dogs, she realises. She used to have one as a child, but he'd died quite suddenly shortly after she'd gone away to school. She'd been absolutely devastated at the time, feeling like everything she loved was being taken away from her, and she'd never quite managed to shake that feeling, so she's never owned a dog since then. Not that she doesn't love Fidget, of course; she does. It's just that it had been easier to get a cat when she'd thought to get a pet, more practical with the hours she works and less emotionally charged for her, so that's what she'd done. But she still loves dogs, she realises now as she watches Scarlet suddenly scramble to her feet and dart into the kitchen. Would Fidget get on with her, she finds herself wondering as she follows the dog into the room, but she quickly checks herself, sternly telling herself off for letting her thoughts run away with her again. She's been with Harry less than a fortnight. It's too soon to be wondering if their pets will get along. They're nowhere near the point in their relationship when they might consider living together.

She finds Harry standing by the counter, opening a new box of tea, and as she moves closer, ready to offer her help, she realises that it's a box of Lady Grey tea – her favourite.

"You don't like Lady Grey," she states in surprise, watching as he throws away the plastic covering and opens the box.

"I know," he replies, getting a teabag out and placing it in a pale blue mug. "Which is why I'm having English Breakfast," he adds, lifting the kettle and filling their mugs. He turns to look at her then and smiles. "I bought them for you," he confesses quietly, and for some reason, this simple gesture on his part almost moves her to tears.

She drops her gaze and swallows the lump in her throat before she looks back up at him and sighs, "God, Harry. How did you get to be so wonderful?"

He shrugs, his ears turning pink at the compliment, and turns back to making the tea, pouring milk and adding sugar to their mugs while she watches him fondly, the sounds of Scarlet lapping up her water filling the room. "Biscuits?" he asks when the tea's ready.

"No, thank you," she shakes her head. "I'm still stuffed from dinner."

So he picks up their mugs, and nodding towards the door, he murmurs, "Shall we?"

She smiles and lets him lead the way through to the living room, retrieving two coasters for him at his request, placing them on the coffee table and watching as he puts down their mugs before she asks for directions to the bathroom.

When she returns, he's sitting on the settee with Scarlet by his side, soft music playing in the background as he fusses over the dog. They make quite a picture together, man and dog, she thinks as she watches them unobserved for a moment. He's so affectionate with her, so unlike the man he is at work, and Scarlet basks in it, returning his love ten times over as she gazes at him with adoring, puppy eyes and licks any part of him he lets her reach. And she finds herself wishing that he would be as open with her as he is with the dog and as willing to let her show him how much she cares. Hopefully he will one day, she tells herself as she steps into the room and walks over to join them.

He looks up at her and smiles, grabbing the dog's collar and saying, "Come on, Scarlet. Time to get down," as he pushes her gently off the sofa.

"Oh no, don't," she object, feeling sorry for her when she whines as she sits on the floor by Harry's feet giving him a puzzled, hurt look. "Surely we all fit, don't we?"

He looks up at her in surprise before giving her such a warm, loving look and smile, that she wonders if it had been a test of some kind, getting rid of the dog to see what she would do. She watches him scoot over to the middle of the settee so she can take a seat on his right while Scarlet jumps back onto the sofa with a delighted bark. She sits down and turns towards him, watching as he tries to calm his overexcited dog, who is now attempting to climb onto his lap to reach her. "Knock it off, Scarlet," he objects crossly, trying to push the dog back out of his lap and getting quite a few doggy kisses on his face in reward for his efforts. She laughs at the sight of the great Harry Pearce being defeated by a dog and reaches forward to help him, stroking Scarlet's head and cooing to her softly until she calms, settling herself across Harry's lap in contentment. "Perhaps you should sit in the middle," he murmurs, and when she lifts her eyes to his face, she finds him watching her.

"Not jealous are you?" she teases lightly.

"Well, I can't fault her taste," he replies, making her blush. She looks down at the dog who is contentedly lying with her head resting on Harry's right thigh, Harry's left hand stroking her back rhythmically, but his voice draws her eyes back to his. "Ruth," he murmurs huskily, his eyes honeyed and tender. He lifts his right hand to cup her face, stroking her cheekbone a few times with his thumb before he draws her slowly towards him until their lips meet. His kiss is soft and gentle, almost making her sigh in bliss. "Thank you," he murmurs as he pulls back. "It's been a most memorable day... The best birthday I've had in years."

She smiles, pleased to hear him say that, and replies, "You're most welcome, Harry." Then she hands him his tea and takes a sip of her own as they sit in companionable silence for some time while they both stroke Scarlet who's in doggy heaven right now, her eyes almost closed in bliss.

"I was worried you wouldn't take to each other," he comments after a little while. "I wasn't sure if you like dogs."

"I do," she replies. "I used to have one... as a child. His name was Argos, but unlike his namesake, he died while I was away... at school." She pauses as she gazes down at Scarlet, feeling a twinge at the memory of coming home at half-term to find him gone. Her mother hadn't even told her about it, thinking it best to keep it from her until she got home after everything that had happened that year. She watches Harry lift his left hand from Scarlet's back and slide it over her own, squeezing it gently for a moment, so she raises her eyes to his, smiling in gratitude as she draws comfort from his touch and the compassion in his gaze; he really is wonderful, she thinks as she clears her throat and continues, "Anyway, there didn't seem like there was much point in getting another puppy as I was away so much. I haven't really had the space for a dog since... nor the time really. But I have Fidget," she smiles.

"I don't really have as much time for her as she needs," he confesses, dropping his gaze to Scarlet as he resumes stroking her back. "I pay someone to walk her and keep her company for a little while each day, which is better than nothing, I suppose." He pauses for a moment and then adds, "But I don't know what I'd do without her. It's nice to have someone to welcome me home at the end of the day... especially after a particularly hard one as mine often are."

She nods in understanding and murmurs, "Fidget always wraps himself around my ankles when I get home, and even if it's just because he wants his food, it's comforting to know that some living creature cares if I make it home or not at the end of the day."

"He's not the only one, Ruth," he whispers, and when she lifts her eyes to his, her breath catches in her throat at the tenderness in his gaze. He lifts his left hand from Scarlet to cup her cheek, his eyes darting all over her face as he takes her in, and she feels butterflies begin to frantically dance around her stomach as she watches him. There's something different about the way he's looking at her, and she's sure he's working up the courage to say something important, something that'll change everything, and she's filled with equal parts excitement and alarm at the prospect. "Ruth, I..." he begins and pauses, his eyes capturing hers again, and she finds herself holding her breath in nervous anticipation.

But it's at that moment that Scarlet lifts her head from his knee, yawns and then sneezes loudly, breaking the spell and the moment between them. She laughs, her body's way of releasing the tension and the adrenaline that's pumping through her bloodstream. "Bless you," she says, dropping her eyes to Scarlet and scratching her ears as Harry's hand drops away from her face.

"It's late," he murmurs. "Time for bed, Scarlet. Up you get." Then he dislodges the dog from his lap and gets up, asking, "Are you done with that?" as he nods at her mug.

"Yes, thank you," she replies, letting him take it from her hand and watching him leave the room closely followed by his dog. She doesn't go with them, needing a moment to herself and suspecting that he needs one too. Instead, she turns her body and gathers her knees beside her on the settee, hugging a cushion to her, leaning her left shoulder and head on the back of the sofa, and closing her eyes while she replays the scene that has just unfolded between them in her head. Had he been just about to tell her that he loves her, she wonders, feeling her already elevated heart-rate sky-rocket at the thought and the butterflies in her belly begin fluttering anew, or has she completely misinterpreted his signals? Perhaps he'd been gearing up to tell her something else. He'd seemed nervous, as if he'd been about to impart something hugely important to her, but that doesn't necessarily mean it was what she thinks it was, what she hopes it was in spite of the little twinge of fear she feels at the prospect of being loved by a man such as Harry. She knows this because, just a moment ago, close on the heels of the relief she'd felt when Scarlet had interrupted, she'd been assaulted by an intense feeling of disappointment. She wants him to love her as much as she loves him; who wouldn't? But she's running away with herself again, she realises suddenly, sternly telling herself off. It might have been something completely different, perhaps that she couldn't, after all, share his bed tonight. This thought abruptly fills her stomach with lead and makes her feel queasy all of a sudden. Could it possibly be that, she wonders, hugging the cushion harder against her.

"Ruth," she hears his gentle voice murmuring her name. "Are you asleep, my Ruth?" She feels the sofa dip as he sits beside her and she opens her eyes to find him watching her tenderly again.

"No," she replies. "I was... thinking."

"I'd be worried if you weren't," he smiles, reaching his left hand up to push a strand of her hair back behind her ear. "Are you... Would you like to... go home or stay here with me, tonight?" he asks softly.

"Stay," she murmurs, the knots in her stomach loosening a little. "If you want me to," she adds uncertainly.

"I'd like that," he smiles.

She nods and gives him a small smile in return before taking the hand he holds out to her.

"Come on," he whispers as he rises from the sofa, his hand still holding hers as she too proceeds to unfold herself and get up. Then he leads her to the hall, taking a detour past his sound system to switch it off and pausing to turn out the light in the living room before turning to go upstairs.

"I need my bag," she says softly, her stomach beginning to do somersaults at the thought of what's to come tonight.

"Of course," he nods, releasing her hand and watching her move towards the front door to retrieve it before returning to his side. "Got everything you need now?" he asks, his voice low and his gaze warm and gentle.

She shakes her head and then reaches out to take his hand in hers again before she whispers, "Now I have."

He smiles broadly at that, squeezing her hand and lifting it to his lips to press a soft kiss against the back of it, his eyes never leaving hers as she watches the emotions flit through them, though she's only able to recognise the last with any certainty as his gaze becomes intense and piercing, brimming with desire. "Ruth," he whispers, his voice husky and low, "I want you. I need to make love to you. Now. I can't wait any more."

She swallows, feeling her insides clench in need, before she's able to reply. "Me too, Harry," she murmurs, her mouth suddenly dry, "but not here. I'd rather... in your bed."

He smiles and nods before turning and marching upstairs with purpose, his hand still firmly clasping hers.