Luckily the tube journey from Harry's is much more straight forward than it is from her place so, despite the extra distance, she ends up arriving at work pretty much on time. Harry had offered her a lift, of course, but she'd refused, scared that his driver would recognise her and spill the beans. He'd not pressed her to accept, but she could tell that he hadn't been altogether happy about it, perhaps because he was hurt that she still feels the need to hide their relationship from others despite the closeness they'd been feeling since waking up together and making love in the early morning, a closeness that had lingered while showering together and sharing a pot of coffee and some toast in near total silence, their looks, smiles and occasional gentle touches saying more than words ever could. The truth is, however, that she's still scared to trust this new found level of intimacy with Harry, scared that the gossip and teasing of their colleagues, not to mention the harsh cynicism and resulting negative assumptions of others in the Service, particularly those higher up in Five, Six and even the government, will destroy this beautiful and still delicate thing between them and break them apart before they've even had a chance to explore where their new found closeness might lead. So she wants to be careful, to protect them from the outside world for a little while, at least until they're more steady and sure of each other.
She'd wanted to explain this to him, but she hadn't been able to find the right words so, in the end, she'd just reached up to kiss him and thanked him for a wonderful night and morning after, and that seemed to have been enough as he'd looked happy when she'd pulled back. Then she'd left, turning the collar of her coat up against the morning chill and walking briskly away and, in fact, she'd been just in time as, moments later, Harry's driver had pulled up. As she'd turned the corner into the next street, she'd glanced back in time to see Harry getting into the car. He'd been watching her, and as their eyes had met, she'd seen him smile softly and lift two fingers to his lips, surreptitiously blowing her a kiss.
She ducks her head and smiles now as she steps into the pods, remembering that kiss, her heart warming at the memory. Her eyes fall on her shoes and she feels a nervous flattering in her stomach. Will anyone notice that she's wearing flats this morning, she wonders. It's unusual for her to not be wearing boots and it worries her that someone will realise that she hadn't been home last night. Not that they're particularly dressy shoes; she'd taken care to choose a pair that don't look too fancy for work as she'd known she couldn't conceal a pair of boots in her handbag when she'd planned to seduce Harry. "Stop it, Ruth," she murmurs to herself in an effort to dispel her worries as the pod swings open and she steps onto the Grid. Even if someone notices her shoes, no one's going to guess why she's wearing them this morning.
She makes her way over to her station, warmly greeting Malcolm, who's just leaving the kitchen with two cups of tea in hand, and wishing Zaf a good rest as he staggers bleary eyed towards the pods after taking the night shift. Then she dumps her bag down by her desk and sheds her coat, desperately trying to forget the feel of Harry's hands gliding over her shoulders and down her arms as he'd helped her slip it on this morning and failing. She feels her cheeks heat up and turns away to hang up her coat, hoping no one's noticed her blush and sternly telling herself to pull herself together. She can't spend the rest of the day mooning over Harry, especially not if she wants to have any hope of keeping their secret. So by the time she has the computer up and running, she's successfully managed to rein in her treacherous memories, thoughts and feelings, and is ready to work, the fact that Harry's away at meetings for most of the morning doing wonders in helping her re-establish her sense of equilibrium.
The morning passes swiftly enough as it's quiet with just routine surveillance and paperwork to keep on top of, and she soon has a steady rhythm going in her work. By mid morning, she's pleased to note that she's well on the way to clearing her in-tray, something that happens only rarely as she never has as many junior desk officers as she really needs and there's always something more pressing, some operation or other that needs her attention and skills. Not that she's complaining; she loves the operations most of all, enjoying working under pressure and the rush of adrenaline that goes hand in hand with the work, loving knowing that she's making a difference, that her work is valued, and thriving on the thrill of being a spy. Then again, she wouldn't say no to a little more help; she really could use a few more desk officers. Harry's promised that some new personnel are to be hired soon, but that was over two months ago now and the Home Office is still dragging its feet. She's all but given up hope of them ever materialising now, to be honest, though Adam's still doggedly persisting in nagging Harry about the new field agent he's been promised. She smiles, thinking about it as she files yet another paper away and looks up.
The Grid is teeming with activity as usual, people coming and going about the place, busy in their work or taking a much needed break. She lifts her arms to stretch and decides a tea break is in order, so she picks up her empty mug and wonders over to the kitchen, taking a detour round to her two junior desk spooks, Amanda and John, wanting to check up on them and offer to bring them some tea. They've already brought her two mugs between them, and she doesn't feel comfortable not returning the favour, despite her seniority. To be honest, she doesn't feel very comfortable managing them and would much rather not be in charge at all, but they're both younger than her and much less experienced, and though they show promise, they don't really have the same level of innate ability or dedication that she does. They're willing to learn and work hard though, which is all she can ask for really.
Their work stations are just round the corner from hers, right next to each other, and as she approaches them unseen, she hears John saying, "Nooo! But are you sure it was her?"
She frowns and slows her step, wondering briefly if they're just taking a bit of a break like her, or if they've been chatting all morning and she's going to have to do something about the proximity of their works stations to each other. "It was. I'm sure of it," she hears Amanda whisper excitedly. "He had his arms round her and they were gazing into each other's eyes." Then she adds, "Don't be an arse, John. I think it's rather sweet," clearly responding to some gesture or facial expression of her companion. She's just stepped around the corner when Amanda's words register in her brain and she suddenly feels like all the wind has been knocked out of her. It can't be, she tells herself as John replies, "If you say so. But one thing's for certain; we'd really best mind our Ps and Qs around her now." They can't be talking about her and Harry. Please, God, let them not be talking about her and Harry.
But as Amanda looks up and she registers the brief look of horror that crosses her face before she recovers and says brightly, "Ruth! Is there something you needed?" the feeling of unease inside her intensifies and she feels physically sick.
"I was getting a cuppa and wondered if you two needed a refill," she replies calmly, masking the turmoil inside her.
"Sure," she replies and gets up, grabbing John's mug and adding, "I'll help you." So she follows the younger woman into the kitchen, distracting herself from her worries by discussing work and their progress on the tasks she's set them, and it's only once she's back at her own station that she allows herself to think over what she overheard. They could have been talking about anyone, she reasons as she attempts to push away the cold fingers of fear that are threading through her insides. There's no need to jump to conclusions, she tells herself. All the same, she determines to be extra careful not to give anything away when Harry comes back onto the Grid.
He returns at around eleven and she has to fight valiantly to keep her eyes from lingering on him too long when he steps through the pods, in spite of her resolution. His eyes immediately and unerringly find hers, and he smiles at her briefly before turning towards his office, his actions setting off fireworks insider her, a mixture of emotions that churn around her stomach and almost make her feel ill, the anxiety over being found out blending with the pleasure bubbling up inside her. She hurriedly looks away, hoping nobody's noticed, but no one seems to be aware of them. Amanda and John are safely at their desks round the corner, and the rest of the people milling around seem utterly uninterested. Relieved, she turns back to find him sitting at his desk now, pulling at his tie to loosen it as he listens to Adam, who's followed him into his office, telling him something. She smiles and looks quickly away again, feeling her insides settle as they flood with warmth at the memory of tying it for him this very morning, his eyes watching her tenderly the entire time as his thumbs drew distracting patterns against her hip bones.
"You look lovely today, Ruth," Fiona says, interrupting her reverie and almost making her jump.
"Thank you," she nods, trying hard not to blush. "I slept well last night for a change."
"That'll do it," Fiona smiles, handing her a folder. "The report on Volkov. Adam said to give it to you when I was done."
"Thanks," she nods and takes the folder, watching the other woman as she walks away and feeling her stomach clench in worry again. Her smile had seemed... knowing, but... No, she tells herself crossly. She's being paranoid now. She needs to stop this, she thinks and determinedly turns back to work, deciding to time herself so she doesn't get caught looking at Harry too often. No more than once every hour she tells herself sternly.
She manages to settle down and get lost in her work again, and when next she looks up, it's lunch time and Harry's on the phone, talking to someone important, no doubt, looking completely in control, exuding power and authority, arguing his point with a firm, confident air. She's always thought him incredibly sexy when he's in his element like this, but as she watches him now, she feels hot desire stir inside her, the knowledge that they're together, that he's hers somehow turning her on so much more than usual. Almost without realising what she's doing, she picks up her phone and quickly texts him, 'I miss your lips'. She watches as he picks up his phone and opens the message though he's still on his office line. Then she sees him smile for a split second before he launches into further argument with the person at the other end of the line, his eyes lifting to look at her through the window and sending her a brief, smouldering look. She feels her face heat up and drops her gaze, turning to her computer and pretending to get some more work done while daydreaming of Harry and what his wonderful lips can do to her.
The sound of her phone chirping brings her out of her reverie and she's delighted to see the message from him – 'Miss you too. Bring me an update in ten. My office.' She lifts her eyes to glance at him again and catches Fiona just looking away, a small smile on her lips. Ice cold fear floods her insides at that, and she swiftly gets up and goes to the loo, really worried now that Fiona saw something or suspects something's going on between her and Harry. It takes her a few moments to calm down and get a hold of her fear, giving herself a good telling to, trying to convince herself that nobody knows, that it's natural for people to gossip, and that even if they did know, it wouldn't matter a bit.
When she returns, takes a seat, and bravely lifts her eyes again to look around, she finds nothing amiss. Fiona's still at her desk, working on something and no one else seems to be doing anything unusual or suspicious, no one's paying her or Harry any particular attention, so she relaxes somewhat and turns back to work, telling herself that she must be imagining things.
Ten minutes later, she gets up to bring an update to Harry in his office as he's requested, surreptitiously glancing around to see if anyone's watching, only to find him coming out to meet her, saying, "Sorry, Ruth, can it wait?"
"Of course," she replies, recovering quickly from her surprise. "It's just the update you wanted."
"Oh, right," he frowns, and she can't help admiring him, how cool he is, how well he masks his feelings and thoughts. "Walk with me. I need to get down to the interrogation rooms." So as he turns to his left, she follows him down the corridor, summarising the report she hands him as he listens attentively to what she's saying. They turn right and pass through the fire door, which he holds open for her, gently directing her further to their right with his body by seemingly unconsciously blocking her way and forcing her to walk around him, but as she draws level with him, he stops her with a gentle hand on her arm and murmurs her name. She lifts her eyes to his in surprise, watching as he takes a few steps towards her, gently guiding her backwards until she's up against the wall before he leans in, and kisses her softly, tenderly, once, twice, three times, his lips warm and gentle. "God, I've missed you," he murmurs as he pulls back. She's still a little stunned by the unexpectedness of his kisses and his sudden change in demeanour from boss spook to her soft, gentle Harry, when he smiles and adds, "Shall we continue? We don't want to linger in a blind-spot for long or someone might get suspicious."
She nods, relieved to hear that this is a blind-spot and they resume their walk down the hall. Her brain is still fuzzy from his kisses, but he's already back in work mode, asking her for clarification on a couple of points, and she's grateful for that as the questions snap her out of her stupor and get her back onto her task of updating him on the most pressing intel they have.
They separate at the lift that will take Harry to the basement. He thanks her for the update, giving her a small smile before getting into the lift as she turns to walk back to her station to grab her things and head outside, grateful beyond words that it's lunch time, which gives her the perfect excuse to escape the confines of the Grid for a little while; she desperately needs some air and some time to calm and centre herself once more.