Humble apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. Travel in combination with a spot of redecorating at home have kept me otherwise engaged recently and I didn't want to post an update until I had completed the whole story. There are only three or four chapters left at this point and I plan on posting twice a week to make up for recent delays. Hope you enjoy and thanks for sticking with this fic. When I began posting it, I thought it was complete at 8 chapters, but a little tweaking here and there has caused it to balloon out into a 40+ chapter monster so, much as I've enjoyed the ride, I'm glad to have wrapped it up so I can move onto telling another story. Thanks for all the encouragement and reviews. Cheers, S.C.
Next day – Monday, 21st November
She knows he's watching her, but she resists the temptation to look up, trying to keep her mind focused on the transcript she's skimming through, looking for anything unusual or out of place. It's mundane stuff again, and truthfully, she can't wait until her new desk officers complete their spook training so she can pass this kind of stuff onto them. Not that she won't have her work cut out for her, training them up to her high standards. Amanda and John are still not there and they've been with her for almost a year. But though it'll be more work initially, she knows that, in the long run, it'll make her life easier and she'll be able to do more and thus, hopefully, make Britain that little bit safer.
Somehow, however, inevitably, as is nearly always the case, his continued scrutiny, which she can always sense as if she possesses some kind of special Harry radar, gets to her in the end and she can't keep her mind focused on her work, finding instead that it wonders to him, his soft smile, his expressive eyes, the pleasure of his company, the passion of his kisses. But though deep down she knows she's already lost the battle, she determinedly keeps her eyes downcast for long moments, struggling to refocus her mind on the boring transcript she's holding before she eventually has to concede defeat.
Sighing then, she lifts her eyes to find him just looking away for the third time today, and she can't help frowning in puzzlement now. Two times might have been a coincidence, but three is definitely deliberate and out of character for Harry and, therefore, cause for concern. They've never really gone in for long looks held at work, but neither has he ever been this keen to avoid her gaze. It's always been her who's looked away quickly in embarrassment when he's caught her watching; he's always just smiled and held her gaze for a moment longer before looking away again, especially lately. So why is he acting differently now, she wonders, tuning the problem over in her mind, recalling that he'd seemed unusually pensive this morning too when she'd woken.
He'd been already awake, lying on his back with his right arm folded under his head, his expression thoughtful, his lips pouting adorably. He'd seemed a little troubled for a moment before he'd become aware that she'd woken, but his mood had shifted so quickly when his eyes had alighted on hers that, as she'd been half-asleep at the time, she hadn't been sure that she hadn't imagined it. Now, however, as she looks at him, she's sure that something's not quite right this morning. She casts her mind back over last night and this morning, looking for something she might have done to upset him, but she comes up blank.
She's no idea how long she sits there worrying, trying to decide what to do about it before she comes to the conclusion the only real way forward is to ask him. No sooner has she come to that decision when she lifts her eyes to scan the Grid, and finding it somewhat quiet, she decides that there's no time like the present and forces herself to get up and walk to his door, grabbing the couple of requisitions lying on her desk that need his signature. Normally, she'd make sure she has at least half a dozen before she brings them to him, but she tells herself no one will notice or care and, by the time she's reached his office door, she's almost convinced herself of the truth of it and has nearly managed to squash down the anxiety that's risen inside her at the thought of the others watching.
He looks up as she enters and smiles softly, and she feels a warmth spread through her insides at the sight and her anxiety ease a little. "Hi," he murmurs, watching as she approaches, his expression neutral and carefully controlled though his gaze remains warm.
"Hi," she replies, stopping in front of his desk and handing him the papers, taking the seat he indicates with his hand before turning his attention to the paperwork, skimming through it and signing both sheets.
"Is that it?" he asks as he pushes them towards her, his questioning gaze making her blush.
"Yes," she admits, dropping her gaze from his for a moment. "I just needed an excuse... to come in here."
"You don't need an excuse, Ruth," he replies, his eyes softening. "You're always welcome."
"I know," she nods, giving him a small smile, "but I feel like a do... you know, for appearance's sake."
He purses his lips and says nothing for a moment, and she knows it's because he doesn't share her views on this. He'll probably never understand why it's so important to her what their colleagues think of them, she realises, but she's grateful that he doesn't say anything about that now. "Was there something specific you wanted?" he asks, his tone of voice different, a little less warm, a little more distant.
"Perhaps I've just missed you," she replies uncertainly, giving him a small, tentative smile, sensing the same tension from him that she'd picked up on this morning.
"Have you?" he murmurs, his expression inscrutable.
"Of course I have, Harry," she sighs in mild exasperation, dropping her gaze to her hands for a moment that are fiddling with the ring on her middle finger. "I can hardly stop thinking about you."
"Good," he says and she can feel him relax a little.
She smiles at him briefly before taking a deep breath and adding bravely, "Yes... but the thing is, Harry, that because I'm so... aware of you, I can tell that something's not quite right this morning, something's... troubling you." She looks up at him and finds him watching her carefully. He doesn't say anything for long moments, and eventually she feels so uncomfortable that she begins speaking again. "I thought perhaps it was... related to us, perhaps something I've done?"
He shakes his head at that and leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk and clasping his hands together in front of his chin. "No, Ruth," he murmurs softly, "at least, not yet." She frowns in puzzlement at that, tilting her head slightly as she watches him press his lips against his hands. "I suppose I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," he says after a beat, giving her a small shrug and an apologetic half-smile.
She stares at him for a moment in silence before stating, "It won't, Harry," hating the fact that she's hurt him so deeply and wondering if a part of him will always feel this way, especially after they've had sex. She can't really blame him for it after everything, and she suddenly feels the need to prove herself to him beyond all doubt.
"Good," he murmurs, giving her a smile as he leans back in his chair, but before he can say anything more, the phone rings. He sighs and glances at it before saying, "I'm sorry, Ruth. I'll have to take this," and lifting the receiver. "Yes," he barks into the phone and then adds with a look of resignation, "Juliet."
That woman, she thinks in distaste as she begins to rise, but a hand gesture from Harry has her pausing midway and sitting down again. He wants her to stay and that knowledge fills her heart with joy. "That's not what we agreed," she hears him growl as he leans forwards, his eyes flashing in anger, and she can't help wondering what that witch is up to now. "No," he says forcefully, slapping his hand down hard on his desk and she watches him get up and begin pacing back and forth behind his desk, his movements limited by the cord of the phone and bringing to mind a caged lion. It's going to be one of those conversations, she thinks and quietly gets up.
He lifts his eyes to hers as she stands, so she whispers softly, "I'll be right back."
He nods at her before turning back to the phone and demanding, "Juliet, listen to me! If you do what you're suggesting, you'll undo all the good work my team has done over the last few weeks. We have him exactly where we want him and..." She doesn't hear the rest as she slips out of his office and makes her way to the kitchen, determined to put her new resolution into action despite how uncomfortable she feels. He's going to need something after this battle, and knowing Harry, he's going to reach for the whisky unless she brings him a cup of tea and some biscuits, lots of biscuits, preferably covered in chocolate. She smiles as she puts the kettle on and walks back to her desk to retrieve her secret stash and her mug.
Five minutes later, she's carrying a tray with two steaming cups of tea and a plate of chocolate covered biscuits across the Grid, trying hard not to blush. She's never done this before at this time of day; it's always been a ritual reserved for the evenings when they're the last ones on the Grid, but she hopes it'll show him that she's not going to change her mind or run from him again any time soon. Fiona looks up and smiles as she passes her desk, so she attempts an answering smile of her own, which she's not sure is entirely successful. Her stomach is tying itself in knots, so much so that she doubts she'll be able to eat anything at all for the rest of the day.
"Let me get that for you," Adam says as she approaches Harry's office, almost making her jump. She hasn't seen him approach, so caught up has she been in her thoughts and the turmoil inside her, keeping her eyes downcast lest she make eye contact with anyone else.
"Thank you," she murmurs as he pulls the door open for her and steals a biscuit, giving her a cheeky grin as she lifts her eyes to his in surprise and frowns in disapproval.
"Lucky man," he whispers conspiratorially. "Fiona never shares her secret stash with me." He winks at her and she feels her cheeks heat up as she quickly looks away and steps through the door into Harry's office, wishing that she could just disappear into thin air. The door slides shut behind her with a snap which brings her out of her uncomfortable thoughts and into the present once more.
Harry, she thinks and lifts her eyes to look for him. He's no longer on the phone but standing near the cabinet where he keeps the drinks, his whisky decanter in hand and his head turned towards her, looking at her in surprise. "Bit early for a drink, isn't it?" she smiles shyly.
"Undoubtedly," he replies, putting the whisky away, turning towards her and meeting her half way across his office. "Wow, Ruth," he murmurs as he takes the tray from her hands and carries it to his desk, "and the chocolate biscuits too! What did I do to deserve those?"
"You looked like you could use some," she shrugs as he lifts his eyes to hers.
"Thank you," he murmurs, his eyes softening into pools of liquid love and she can't help getting lost in them for several moments.
"You're welcome, Harry," she whispers, knowing that he's not just thanking her for the biscuits.
He smiles and picks up her mug of tea, handing it to her and reaching for his own and the plate of biscuits. Then he turns back towards her and asks, "Would you like to sit here or on the sofa?"
She hesitates before replying, "Here... if you don't mind," looking up at him uncertainly. Normally, when they're the last ones left on the Grid, they sit together on the sofa, but she finds she's not brave enough to do that now, in the middle of the day with everyone watching.
"I don't," he reassures her and she can't help loving him even more in that moment for being so understanding.
He places the plate in the middle of his desk before moving back behind it and taking a seat, sipping his tea and reaching for a biscuit. "Mmmm," he hums after he swallows the first bite, washing it down with more tea, "Thank you, Ruth. This is just what I needed. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Drink yourself into an early grave most likely," she murmurs and can't help smiling when he looks up at her in surprise.
"Then let's hope I'll never have to find out," is his quiet reply.