Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She had to submit a time off request. The wedding was on a weekend, but she would need to leave early on Friday to get there on time, and with the reception running late into the night Sunday she couldn’t expect to be at work the following day. Reluctantly she put in the request through the usual channels, marked the day on the calendar, and made a mental note that she would need to go dress shopping. There was nothing in her closet that would work for a spring wedding.

“I’d love to go dress shopping with you,” Jo offered. “We can get lunch out, make a day of it. Next Saturday?”

Ruth agreed, glad that there might be at least one pleasant part of the whole ordeal. Celebrations with her mother’s side of the family were stressful, weddings even worse. But this time there was the added fact that it would be the first time she saw most of her family since her step-brother’s suicide. Facing her mother and David had been hard enough.

“I’m glad to come along as well, help either of you ladies with the zips and buttons. Maybe Ros will join us, for a little team bonding time.” Zaf leaned against the doorway, a twinkle in his eye. Jo threw a wadded-up paper at him.

“No boys allowed.” Neither of them acknowledged the teasing about their newest team member. Ruth had no idea where she stood with Ros or where Ros stood with the team.

“You can send me pictures if you need a man’s opinion.” Zaf wasn’t easily distracted from his teasing.

“Why, do you know one?” Jo asked, ruthlessly. She held in a laugh until after Zaf had gone. Ruth suspected that the woman might feel more than camaraderie and friendship for their co-worker, but she kept it pretty well hidden. Ruth knew what that was like.

Chapter Text

“I’m glad to see you’re taking a holiday. It’s something we could all be better about.” Ruth was about to leave Harry’s office when his voice changed slightly. When she’d given her report he’d listened carefully, asking for clarifications on two issues. Now he hesitated, just a little, as he waved his hand at his computer. “I’ve been notified of your time off request.”

“It’s not a holiday. Not really.” There wasn’t going to be anything relaxing about the weekend. Honestly, she’d rather be at work. “My cousin’s daughter is getting married, and my mother would be disappointed in me if I didn’t attend.”

Her mother would find a way to be disappointed with her when she did attend, but she wasn’t good about saying no, not to her. Not since she was eleven years old and had begged not to be sent away to school. Their relationship was one of quiet acquiescence on Ruth’s part and vague disappointment from her mother. Moving to London had been about the work, primarily, but also about having her own space where her mother wasn’t a weekly presence.

“You should take a few extra days. You barely went home for the holidays this year. We can muddle through without you. It will be good for Jo to handle the threat assessment for a few days, and get some experience. Family is important.” Harry glanced at the corner of his desk. Ruth wondered if he was considering the family photos that might be there on another man’s desk. He spoke to Catherine on occasion, Ruth knew, but as far as she was aware it had been years since he’d seen Graham.

“A weekend is enough time.” It would be more time than she’d spent with anyone other than her mother and David in the last five years. Sondra had rented out a hotel block, so she was going to be surrounded by family from the moment she arrived.

“Ruth…” She could see that he was gearing up to argue with her, ready to pull off his best ‘in your best interest’ lecture and she wasn’t in the mood.

“I’m the odd cousin with the boring office job who shows up once a year or so. No one knows how to talk to me and I certainly don’t know how to talk to them. They invite me because it’s expected and they sent me a plus one I can’t use because that’s expected too. I’ll go and I’ll sit with great-uncle Matthew who will call me Rebekah and probably some next-door neighbor that’s invited herself and smile until my face is sore. No one there will know who I really am or what I really do except for my mother and David who will very specifically not mention Peter or anything about the Service.” Ruth wasn’t sure how that had just happened. Maybe she was more exhausted than she realized, or maybe she was coming down with something. Maybe someone had slipped some kind of truth serum in her tea at lunchtime.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I… could you please forget that I said any of that?” If the ground could open up or a red flash could sound she’d be thankful. Not that she wanted anyone harmed just to diminish her embarrassment but just a small emergency would help. “I should go.”

“I didn’t realize things with your mother-”

“They’re fine. David’s grieving, that’s normal when you lose a child. And mum’s always been so protective of him.” From the time Ruth had been twelve, it had been David as the mostly silent and stern center of her universe, with mum circling him and Ruth never able to get very close to either of them.

“What happened to Peter wasn’t on you at all, Ruth. He made his choices, as did Angela.” He moved as if to stand and Ruth had no idea what might come next but she was pretty sure it would be something beyond her ability to handle, not without breaking down in a way that was even more unprofessional than what had already happened.

“I just need the four days I asked for. It’s enough.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond before fleeing his office.

Chapter Text

Mercifully Harry didn’t bring up their conversation again. If it felt like he watched her a little more often than usual she was able to ignore it without too much trouble. The next three weeks went quickly, between her usual duties and going over the threat assessment procedures with Jo each day. One weekend was eaten up by a potential school bombing but she and Jo found a Sunday afternoon to visit the shops and find something that was suitably appropriate for a wedding without making Ruth feel too out of place. She drew a line at hat shopping, though. That particular bit of fashion was something she found too ridiculous.

“You’re going to look gorgeous. I hope there’s at least a few single men there to appreciate you.” Jo had a few bags of her own, spring clothing that wasn’t Grid appropriate but would work for days off. She needed to figure out a dating life, Jo had proclaimed, and Ruth should do the same. “There’s nothing wrong with a weekend fling, you know. Especially at a wedding.”

“They’re probably all cousins.” The last time she’d even contemplated meeting up with a man she’d run a full background check on him. Even then she’d chickened out. Ruth Evershed didn’t do casual. Since she didn’t seem to do serious very well either that didn’t leave much for a middle ground.

Before she knew it Thursday arrived and she was closing down her computer and locking up her desk drawers. It was late enough that the grid was fairly deserted. Zaf, Jo, Malcolm, and Adam were all gone for the day. Only Harry remained, a single light at his desk telling her without looking that he was working on reports. There was a better than even chance that he’d poured himself a drink. She could slip out easily and not see him until Tuesday but that didn’t feel right.

“I’m on my way out, Harry unless you need anything.” She stood in his doorway, the one where she never seemed to remember to knock.

“Goodnight Ruth.” He was distracted enough by whatever was in front of him that perhaps it didn’t register at first, because a moment later he looked up at her, eyes widening slightly. “It’s Thursday.”

“It is,” She was packed already and would leave in the morning. And would be glad when she could turn around and return to London. “I’ll be back on Tuesday.”

“Tuesday,” he repeated nodding his head. “Ruth-”

“Were you going to say something Harry?” she asked after almost a full minute of silence.

“I hope it’s better than you expect. That you’re able to enjoy yourself.” It was a kind thing to say. Sweet, almost, and the kind of thing that he said often enough to give her twin pangs of longing and hope but were also rare enough that they surprised her each time. But she knew him and something about his hesitation told her that it wasn’t what he’d originally planned to say.

“Thank you.” She gave him a moment longer to stop her before turning and heading for the PODS.

Chapter Text

The wedding wasn’t until Sunday afternoon but Friday began with a cocktail hour at the hotel bar and for those brave enough for the nippy spring weather a bonfire on the beach. Ruth had arrived in Bristol in time for lunch, which she had dutifully shared with her mum and David, but had the rest of the afternoon to herself. There was a small bookshop near the hotel that she explored in addition to a cafe where she treated herself to a slice of lemon cake. Considering the schedule for the weekend she knew it might be her only downtime.

She was reluctant to return to her hotel room when it was time to get ready for the cocktail party, but it wouldn’t do to be late. She’d brought a simple navy dress but spent some time pinning up her hair. It felt like building layers of armor when she tucked in a comb and put on a necklace she hadn’t worn in the last few years. She was more comfortable in her usual boots but the dress called for heels so she slipped those on last, simple navy straps without too much heel. The last thing she needed was to wobble because of her shoes.

“You’re not late,” was the best her mother could do for a greeting when they met up at the lift. Her mother was dressed in a steel gray that matched David’s tie. Downstairs they headed for a large room on the ocean side of the hotel, clearly labeled for the Jones-Winton wedding. There had to be at least a hundred people inside already and Ruth wasn’t sure she would have gone in on her own if her mother hadn't been at her side. Barbara Haigh, nee Winton, had never doubted her position in her own family or society in general.

“I’ll have a glass of whatever white wine you have.” Ruth made her way to the bar as soon as the opportunity arose. Having something in her hand will make her feel a little less awkward. It might work as an anesthetic as well. She’s been asked three times already about her date or her marriage prospects and the party had only started ten minutes ago.

“Will there be anything else?” the bartender asked.

“Whiskey, neat, and nothing that’s been watered down. I do hope you have something decent.”

Ruth froze, not needing to turn around to know who was standing next to her. She’d know his voice even if she hadn’t seen him in years. “Harry?”

“Thank you.” She saw his hand first, putting a few notes in the tip jar before picking up both drinks. When she turned to look at him she found that he was wearing a suit she hadn’t seen at work, something just a little more casual. It fit in well with the people around them. She wasn’t sure what to think about the fact that the blue of his tie was the same color as her dress; that seemed a minor issue compared to his presence.

“What are you doing here?”

“You said you didn’t have a plus one.” He handed her the wine as he led her away from the bar to a less crowded corner of the room. “Considering how you were feeling about the weekend I thought it might be easier if you weren’t alone.”

“You drove three hours away from London so I wasn’t alone at a cocktail party?” It was barely eight, meaning he had to leave the Grid before five even if he’d driven straight without going home. Harry seldom left work before five.

“I have to be back by Monday morning so I can’t stay for all of the wedding reception but I thought you might want someone with you for the weekend.” Someone who didn’t know him wouldn’t see the trace of nervousness. Strangely it made her feel better, knowing that he wasn’t completely comfortable.

“I think-”

“It’s about time you brought him with you, Ruth. When I saw you talking I had to run right over and meet your man.”

“It’s not what you think.” Ruth cursed the circumstances that had her cousin Christine intercepting them.

“Harrison Parker. I didn't think I'd be able to attend as I’m afraid my job requires me to travel a great deal. I never get to spend as much time with my Ruth as I’d like.” Ruth’s eyes flared as he talked, her grip too tight on her glass. My Ruth? Even if he was playing things up for her cousin that single word ‘my’ had her head spinning. She forced herself to take a breath and relax her hand. Any vague lies she’d made up about dating someone in London had been to avoid explaining over and over that she was single but Harry was purposefully stepping into that gap she’d created and making up a story.

“What do you do? I don’t think Ruth’s ever mentioned.” Christine was one of the closest cousins to Ruth in age and one of the easier to talk to, but Ruth wished she was somewhere else.

“Demolitions expert. I specialize in large-scale demolition. You might have heard of the Case building in London last month?” Ruth almost had to laugh. The Case building had been taken down by Islamic extremists. They’d barely gotten it cleared in time so the injuries were limited to cuts and concussions, not deaths. Claiming it was a planned demolition was outrageous but of course, Harry would easily come up with a story.

Christine believed him. “That’s amazing. I remember someone watching that on a YouTube video.”

“I’d be glad to tell you more later, but if you don’t mind I haven’t seen Ruth in a few days. I’d like to take her on a walk outside. We’ll talk again this weekend, I’m sure.”

“Unless he gets called away for work,” Ruth interjected, giving him an easy out. If Christine was the only person who met him he wouldn’t have to stay the whole weekend, stuck with her family.

“Oh, I made sure to clear my schedule for this. Priorities, you know.” He smiled politely at Christine, who looked like she regretted the fact that she’d brought a date to the wedding and couldn’t poach Harrison Parker to find out just how explosive he was. It wasn’t the first time Ruth had seen someone fall hard for Harry. She wasn’t sure how she went from talking to Christine to being out in the gardens outside the hotel, but Harry’s hand was on her elbow and he was guiding her in a way that made it too easy to follow.

“A demolition expert?” The garden was in the opposite direction of the beach, where bonfires burned. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around.

“Interesting enough for people to ask questions but too technical for them to actually want all the details. They’re distracted by the idea of explosions so it comes off as plausible,” Harry shrugged, pausing to take a sip of his whiskey.

“And Harrison Parker?” She wasn’t stupid enough to think she knew all of Harry’s legends, but she was aware of most that he used regularly.

“Not fully flushed out yet, but Malcolm created enough of a background in case anyone decides to google cousin Ruth’s date. I thought Harrison would be easier than you having to remember a different name, but this way no one traces you back to the security service. I have to admit he’s growing on me, though. I might firm up old Harrison’s background, take credit for a few more explosions. Could be handy the next time we have to work with the IRA.” There was just a hint of bitterness at the end that Ruth knew would always be there when thinking of bombings and Ireland.

“You didn’t have to do this, Harry. It’s just a wedding.”

“It might make the weekend easier if you consider it an undercover assignment.” He was so earnest that she had to smile. “If you really don’t want me here I can go.”

“Just promise me that you aren’t actually here on a mission. I don’t think I can handle suspecting that Cousin George might be a spy.” Though it would make more sense, perhaps, than Harry just showing up to see her.

“My only purpose in being here this weekend is you. To be a friend if you need one,” he clarified as the butterflies fluttered in her stomach. “We can be friends, can’t we Ruth?”

Not trusting herself she nodded. In the moonlight his blooming smile was intoxicating.

Chapter Text

“How did we meet?” Against her better judgment, she’d invited him back to her room where she could be more secure about no one overhearing them. They’d stayed at the party for an hour, she’d introduced him to three cousins and an uncle and had managed not to run into her mum or David at all. Not wanting to press her luck before they had a chance to talk more she’d suggested they leave. Hopefully, not too many people had noticed, she didn’t want to think about what they would think she was doing in her hotel room with the dashing Harrison Parker. And he was dashing, with the tie now gone and the first two buttons of his shirt undone. He was always attractive but Harrington didn’t carry the same weight on his shoulders as Harry Pearce, head of counter-terrorism. Someone might even say he carried an air of the rakish.

“At the teashop near your house, the one with the jasmine pearl tea you like. I spilled tea on you and insisted on paying for a new cup to apologize,” Harry answered quickly. Either he’d considered it already or it was his experience inventing backstories. “And then I convinced you to go out with me on a proper date.”

“I think people would more easily believe I spilled tea on you.” She knew she was clumsy when she was nervous and meeting Harry for the first time had certainly made her nervous. To be fair it still did, sometimes, when she wasn’t expecting to see him. Or when he was sitting on the sofa in her hotel room.

“Let me be gallant, at least in this fiction.”

“Alright. So we went to dinner.” Ruth slipped off her shoes, sitting on the end of the bed and flexing her toes now that they were free. There had been a single dinner between them, that was true at least. There was a tea shop near her house as well, he must have noticed the paper cups she sometimes brought in with her and made a guess. She appreciated that he was keeping things simple. She was surprised that he knew what kind of tea she liked best.

“I had to go out of town for a job. When I came back I started getting my tea there every morning hoping to see you again. You hadn’t given me your number.”

“An oversight, I’m sure.” Would she have given it to him, if they had met for the first time by accident? Or would she have been too nervous? “How long did it take?”

“Before I saw you again? Two weeks. But it took another two weeks before you agreed to go out with me again. You’re cautious.” He looked at her, and she could imagine he was considering the meter and a half between the sofa and the bed where she sat. Or maybe the way she pulled back after their first date when she realized that people knew they’d been out.

“That much is true. Maybe if I wasn’t I would have had someone to invite this weekend.” She couldn’t imagine it.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little caution in our line of work.”

“Too much caution means you’re not taking any risks.” She’d had too much wine, her head was spinning. Or maybe it was just the way Harry was looking at her and the conversation that seemed to be happening on too many levels. “That can be dangerous too.”

“Perhaps the secret is finding the middle.” Harry sat very still for a moment before standing. “I’m sure we can manage the rest as we go. I’m familiar with the cover you use with your family, and it’s getting late. What time shall we meet in the morning?”

“There’s nothing wedding-related until afternoon. I’m supposed to meet Mum and David at nine-thirty for breakfast.” Had someone told them yet that she’d been seen with a date? “We’re supposed to go to the pier in the afternoon.”

“Should I meet you here at a quarter after nine so we can arrive together or would you rather meet at the restaurant? I don’t want to give your mother the wrong opinion of me.”

“You don’t have to-” She shook her head. No, he said he was here to be her friend and if there was a time she could use someone in her corner it was when the odds were two to one with her mum. She could be a little less cautious, at least for one weekend “No, I’m sorry, that was ungrateful. If you’re sure then I could meet you there. I’d rather arrive on my own.”

“I’ll be at the restaurant at nine-twenty.” Harry turned the doorknob to go out in the hall. “Goodnight Ruth.”

“Goodnight Harry.” The door was almost closed when she ran out after him in her bare feet. “Harry?”

“Yes?”

“I never said thank you for this. For driving all the way here and-” She struggled for a word that encompassed what he was doing, but she didn’t seem to have one at her disposal. “For everything.”

“Thank you for letting me, Ruth.”

Chapter Text

Ruth looked nothing like her mum. She was her father’s daughter through and through, according to her mum, and she wasn’t sure that was meant as a compliment. Barbara had enjoyed the idea of being married to a doctor more than actually being married to one, and Ruth was never sure how they’d stayed together for almost twenty years. Perhaps things had been better between them in the early years before the unexpected daughter showed up somewhere around their ninth anniversary.

David was a better match for her mother. He belonged to the right club, had played polo when he was younger, and had retired at the age of sixty from a government job. He was devoted to her mother, just as her mother genuinely loved him. Ruth had long since stopped hoping for the same from either of them.

“Good morning mum. David.” She dutifully brushed her lips near her mother’s cheek, not quite touching. “I hope you don’t mind but I’ve invited someone to join us for breakfast.”

“I heard from your cousin Frank that you were seen with someone last night. I thought you said you hadn’t managed to arrange for an escort this weekend?” Barbara’s eyes were a pale blue that matched both her dress and the cool tone of her voice. “I assume that’s who will be joining us?”

“His name is Harry. Harrison,” she corrected, regretting that she’d mentioned the breakfast to Harry. There was no reason he needed to spend time with her mother, to see how strained their relationship was. The few times Harry had ever mentioned his own mother he’d spoken with affection. Ruth couldn’t do the same.

“Have I been summoned?” Harry stepped up to her side, his hand resting for a moment on her hip in a move that felt like it dispelled the early spring chill. “Good morning darling. I’m not late, am I?”

“You’re early, as usual.” He always was.

“Timing is everything in my line of work, you know.” He held out his hand to David. “Mr and Mrs. Haigh, it’s a pleasure.”

“He’s not what I was expecting.” Barbara addressed herself to her daughter while David politely accepted the handshake. “Wasn’t the last one an accountant?”

“That was a while ago, mum.” She’d been at GCHQ then and briefly dating a co-worker, a relationship that had ended as quietly as it had begun when she’d been seconded to MI-5. Sometimes she wondered if Steve had noticed that she was gone. They’d shared meals for a few months and had some very polite sex, but it hadn’t been something that was ever going to become more than a convenient relationship.

“Ruth hasn’t mentioned you. How long have you two been seeing each other?” David asked.

“Eight months,” was Harry’s reply while Ruth said “five months” at the same time.

“Wishful thinking,” Harry clarified with a smile. “I like to count the time from our first meeting. Ruth counts from when she agreed to date me, just after the holidays.”

“Is that so?” Barbara didn’t seem to be asking a question. Fortunately, the hostess appeared to take them to their table and Ruth was glad of even the brief reprieve.

“I’m sorry,” she managed to whisper to Harry as they made their way to the table, apologizing more about what was probably coming rather than her mother’s coldness.

“I’ve dealt with worse,” Harry reassured her. Ruth wasn’t comforted knowing that her mother was at least not as bad as waterboarding.

II

“He’s rather old, isn’t he? You should be considering children, Ruth, before it’s too late, and for that, you need someone younger, not someone who could be a grandfather.” Barbara’s politeness was chilly but it was nothing compared to her bluntness once Harry and David left to fetch drinks from the bar.

“His age doesn’t bother me.” It wasn’t her place to mention that Harry had grown children and considering how little she knew about Graham he could have a grandchild. “Besides I’m not having any children.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you had a normal job. Women are supposed to have children and raise families. Does he know?” Barbara looked over at the bar. “Or do you have to lie to him about what you do too?”

“Harry knows what I do,” she said honestly. If she was really honest she would ask her mother why she wanted her daughter to have a child when it clearly hadn’t made her life any better. “And not having children isn’t about my job, it’s about what’s right for me.”

“Your father would be disappointed in you.” Barbara turned away, smiling as her husband returned and accepted the mimosa. Watching her was surreal as Ruth felt the breath knocked out of her. It was rare enough for her mother to mention her father after all this time. The idea that her mother might be right was something she didn’t know how to handle. When she was little she’d often told her father she would follow in his footsteps, dreaming of being a doctor and raising a family. What would he really think of her now? Would he be disappointed?

“Ruth?” Harry crouched down beside her chair, drawing her attention. She tried to respond but was still finding it hard to breathe, let alone speak. She hated that he looked worried. why was it so hard for her to just shrug and say she was fine?

“I’m afraid I ordered the wrong drink for Ruth. If you excuse us for a moment we’re just going to head back to the bar.” For the second time in two days Ruth found herself moving without realizing how he’d gotten her started, his arm this time looped through hers. Instead of heading to the bar, he pulled her off toward the hall that led to the toilets. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, not wanting to worry him. She knew what her mother was like, there was no reason to allow herself to be so upset.

“I need more than a nod, Ruth. Talk to me.” One of his hands cupped her cheek and she wanted to lean into it. Wanted to lean into him and his warmth and just stand there for a while and let Harry support her. If he really were her date maybe she could, but they were just playing a game of pretend and he deserved better than having to deal with her inadequacies and issues.

“I’m fine,” she said after taking a shaky breath. “Sorry, it’s an old argument with my mother, I don’t know why I let it get to me. My failure to carry on the family name is a disappointment even though she didn’t keep my father’s name. My choice in careers is almost as disappointing.”

“I have no doubt you would be a brilliant mother if that’s what you wanted, but I have to confess I’m grateful you chose to be a brilliant and dedicated analyst instead. I’m sorry that she doesn’t understand or appreciate who you are.” He frowned. “I could invent a reason why we need to leave early if you like. Perhaps food poisoning?”

“We haven’t eaten yet,” Ruth shook her head, the movement pressing his fingers once again against her skin. “I just need a minute and then I’ll be ready to go back.”

“Then we’ll just stand right here until you’re ready” And for just that one minute she did let herself lean into Harry, just a little.

Chapter Text

Breakfast mercifully didn’t run overlong. Harry walked her to the lift an hour later, not asking before he followed her back to her room.

“Do you think your mother’s interested in a job as an interrogator?” He locked the hotel door behind them and threw the bolt, which might seem worrying if he was anyone else following her back to her room but she knew him and how careful he had to be about security.

“That’s not funny.” The last person she needed to run into at Thames house was her mother. Ruth sank into the cushions of the sofa, wishing there had been a way to bring her cats. After a long day, it always made her feel better to see them, and even though it wasn’t yet eleven it felt like a long day. “I’m sorry for all the questions she asked.”

“It was good practice. The legend is holding up well enough, though she might have been more impressed if I’d been able to drop the names of people I actually know. Even your mother might have to be impressed to know I’ve had tea with the queen.” The room had a small balcony and he opened the door, letting in a fresh breeze. If it hadn't been her mother doing the questioning she might have been amused at how many answers Harry had made up on the spot. It always amazed her, how smoothly he and Adam and the rest were able to keep the details of different lives separate from each other. The few times she'd had to be someone else for a few hours it had made her nervous. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” she said automatically. She’d never heard about him meeting the queen and wondered if he’d tell her the story if she asked.

“Can I ask for an honest answer and not the one you’d give to a stranger?” He sat at the other end of the sofa, just far enough away that their legs didn’t touch. When she looked at him he was silent but his gaze was steady and she knew how patiently he'd wait for his answer. He knew he too well.

“I’d rather jungle three code yellows and an active threat than sit through that again, and I hate that I think that about my own mother.” Sometimes she tried to remember if it had been different once, but there had always been a distance between them. As a child, her father had helped to bridge them, but then he'd been gone and they'd never quite been able to see each other properly since.

“There are too many people in the world that should never be parents. Unfortunately, it’s the children that suffer for their failings.” There was a note of regret in his voice. Ruth winced to think that her issues with her mother might be making him think less of himself.

“You’re not like her, Harry. Whatever happened with you and your kids it was never deliberately cruel.” She’d rather admit how much her mother’s words hurt than let Harry dwell on his own parenting issues. “I’m sure you’ve never wished they didn’t exist.”

“Say the word, Ruth, and I could arrange for her to have a nice little visit to Russia. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had someone extradited.” He was joking, she knew he was, but there was just enough menace in his voice that her burst of laughter was tempered by something else. Something about knowing he would threaten people on her behalf was strangely reassuring.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We’ve nothing planned until half one, correct?” Harry brushed off a wrinkle in his trousers as if he was dismissing the idea of her mother entirely.

“Correct. Erin’s hired a bus to take us all to the pier. Did you want to meet me in front of the hotel then?” She was thinking of settling in with a book for a little while. If she stayed in her room she wouldn’t run into her mother and since neither David nor her mother would be going to the afternoon at the Brighton Pier she wouldn’t have to see them until dinner.

“I was thinking we should go have some breakfast. There’s a tea shop across the way.”

“We just had breakfast.”

“No, I had breakfast. You had half a piece of toast and pushed the rest of your food around your plate for an hour. At the very least some sweet tea will make you feel better.” When he stood he held a hand out to her. It looked like her book was going to have to wait.

Chapter Text

“You don’t mind watching Molly while we take Jackson on the roller coaster, do you? He’s been dying to go and she’s too little.” For the third time in an hour, Ruth was passed a young child while one of her cousins ran off. She didn’t mind, not really, but Harry was frowning at her.

“What?” She held Molly’s hand as the toddler wandered over to the pier's edge, pointing out the ducks in the water.

“If they wanted a childminder they should have brought someone along. You’re not here to watch their children and hand out coins for the arcade.” She wasn’t sure why he was annoyed, and the confusion must have shown on her face. “I don’t like the way they’re taking advantage of you and not even bothering to ask you about yourself or offer to do anything for you.”

“They all have their own lives and like I told you back at the grid, I’m just the odd cousin that shows up occasionally. It’s alright.” It was sort of sweet, the way he frowned and clearly disagreed with her. It was even sweeter the way Harry crouched down when Molly tugged on his pants and Ruth watched the child and man have a very serious conversation about ducks. Whatever ire he felt for her relatives didn’t extend to the children.

“He’s good with her. Looks like a natural father.” Ruth was distracted by the sight when Molly’s parents returned. She schooled her features to remain neutral and hoped Harry hadn’t overheard the comment. She didn’t want children, she’d been honest with her mother about that. Maybe less honest about the impact her job had on her decision but she’d seen too much of what could happen in the world to feel like she could parent a child. But that didn’t stop a tiny corner of her from imagining what it would be like to have a child with Harry. Which was ridiculous since they weren’t even together, but fortunately fantasizes didn’t have to be logical.

“Come on, it’s a large enough pier that we should be able to find some corner where your relatives hadn’t infiltrated.” The moment Molly’s parents picked her up Harry had them moving away, his hand in hers and his stride very determined.

“We are supposed to be here celebrating with them,” Ruth pointed out just because she felt like she should.

“They can celebrate without us for an hour.” Harry led them to the far end where the sideshow was set up, far from the rides and arcades. “There, that’s better. Now we can have some fun.”

“Do you have a yen to play carnival games, Harry? You know they’re all rigged.”

“That makes it all the more fun when you win. Where should we start?” Harry turned in a slow circle and Ruth couldn’t help but laugh. What would the others say if she told them about this moment? About Harry Pearce who could command soldiers and frighten terrorists and ruled MI-5 with an iron fist taking a turn about a carnival, eager to take on rubber ducks, balloons and grinning clown faces.

They wouldn’t believe her, even if she told them and she wouldn’t. The sight was her own to tressure.

“The darts,” she answered finally, pointing to a game where no one was waiting in line.

“Simple. Pick your prize, Ruth, and I’ll have it for you in a minute,” Harry said confidently. He wasn’t wrong. After missing the first one - just getting his bearings, Harry claimed - he popped the next four balloons. Another few pounds on the counter and he had five more darts and five more balloons popped. Ruth picked out a small stuffed animal that might have been a tiger or perhaps a leopard.

“I think it’s a zebra made by someone who hasn’t seen a zebra before. Are you sure that’s the one you want? For a few more tickets you can get that necklace.”

“It would probably turn my skin green. Besides I’m already attached to little Harrison, my tiger-zebra.” It didn’t matter that the material felt cheap beneath her fingers. The stuffed animal was going home with her, and would probably end up on the table next to her bed, at least until her cats found it.

“He’s not that little,” Harry muttered. Ruth’s eyes widened at the comment and she could feel her cheeks flush. She tried to think of a suitable comeback, showing she understood that it was just a joke but she couldn’t think of anything but what his teasing might imply if they were doing anything other than pretending to be together for a weekend.

“Can you win at the duck pond? Harrison needs a friend.” She opted for distraction and was amused five minutes later when Harrison the tiger-zebra was joined by Parker the dinosaur alligator. “You’re right, it is fun when you win. Am I seeing the result of a misspent youth?”

“I spent three days as a carny, early in my career. I was watching out for an arms dealer but picked up a few bits of knowledge about the games. This is the second time they’ve come in handy. I took Catherine and Graham to a carnival when they were little and brought home a panda that took up half the backseat of the car.”

“They must have loved that.” He was good with kids. She’d seen it before, anytime they came across a kid or when he’d had a chance to spend time with Wes. She’d seen it today too, with her younger cousins. She imagined he would have been a good father if things had been different for him.

“He sat with us at the dining room table the first night and became Cathrine’s pillow for a while. I don’t know what happened to him, he was still in her bedroom when I moved out.”

“Well these won’t work as a pillow but I appreciate them still. Maybe they can join us for dinner,” Ruth teased, slipping one into each pocket of her cardigan.

“I think four’s a crowd.” Harry led her to another game, one involving water guns and targets. “Ready for a challenge?”

“You’ve seen my scores on the field tests, Harry. It took me two tries to pass with the bare minimum needed to be an agent.” She still wondered if someone had given her a few extra points just to make sure she passed, knowing that she wouldn’t be out in the field. Her ability to hit a target was abysmal. At least her accuracy with tree branches was better.

“Fortunately in this game, your goal is to be off center. The middle of the target never works.” He stood behind her, his breath against her ear making it very hard to stand still and not react. What would happen if she turned her head a little?

“So I aim for the target but not the center?” She picked up the gun, the plastic not having anywhere near the same weight as a real one.

“Exactly. We’re looking for the sweet spot.” He let her alone at first but she was off by too much. His hand covered hers, gently adjusting her aim. A stream of water hit the target. After a minute a buzzer sounded but Ruth barely heard it. She doesn’t want the game to end.

“Maybe if you had taught me how to shoot I wouldn’t have done so bad at it.” Reluctantly she set down the water gun and stepped away.

“It’s not too late. It’s never a bad idea to have more knowledge when it comes to guns and defending yourself. Not that I’m sending you out in the field with a weapon anytime soon.” They were far enough away from the game that the conversation was just between them and took a more serious tone than Ruth had intended with her teasing.

“I can’t imagine a scenario where that would be a good idea.” Her brief sojourns into the field were fortunately rare and more often about her language ability or being able to navigate a social event.

“Good and necessary aren’t always the same thing.” He was dressed as casually as she’d ever seen him in slacks and a polo shirt, a light jacket on top, but when he spoke he sounded just like he did when there was an uncomfortable decision to be made on the Grid.

“I’ll brush up on my firearms training if you recommend a suitable teacher,” she promised. She didn’t dare suggest that he spend the time teaching her; this was a one-weekend deal, not an assumption about anything more.

“That can be arranged.” He seemed satisfied with her answer and let her distract him with another carnival game before he distracted her with an ice cream cone and a wander down the pier where they spent a half hour talking about nothing important at all.

Chapter Text

“Once more unto the breach.” Harry waited outside of her room so they could go down to dinner together. The bus had brought them back only an hour before, giving her just enough time to shower and dress.

“I’m afraid there will be no escaping the cousins this time.” They’d barely met up with anyone - not an accident thanks to Harry’s determination - until the very end of the visit to the pier, not until they were all back on the bus and little Molly insisted that she wanted to sit with the Haw-wee-son. Ruth had no problem giving up her seat and sitting across the aisle so the little girl could swing her legs and babble about seeing ducks and riding a pony. Harry leaned towards her and listened as intently as if she was giving away state secrets.

Ruth might have taken a picture with her phone when she was certain he wasn’t paying attention.

“I’ve already scouted out the locations of all the fire alarms, just in case they become necessary.” She wasn’t sure if he was teasing or not. “You look stunning this evening. I haven’t seen you in that color in ages.”

“Jo convinced me to get it. I wasn’t sure, but I needed a few dresses for the weekend and the ones I wear to work weren’t right.” Self consciously Ruth reached up to rub her bare shoulder. The dress was the color of wine and Ruth had appreciated the simple classic line and the whisper of the fabric against her legs. She was less certain of the fitted bodice that hugged her shape more than she was used to and the asymmetrical shape that meant one arm was covered and the other completely bare.

“Jo was right. Also the next time I have to go to a formal do and need a distraction I’m bringing you with me in that dress.” Harry pushed the button for the lift.

“No one’s head is going to be turned by me in a dress, no matter how nice the dress.” Ruth shook her head, though the idea of being out with Harry while on an op was not an opportunity she would turn down. Perhaps it would happen one day.

“I didn’t say anything about anyone else needing a distraction; I meant me at one of the home secretary’s parties. The ratio of politicians to intelligent people is horrifying and it’s never a good idea to have more than one whiskey around those types.” Harry held his arm against the lift door so they couldn’t close and let Ruth enter before him. “However you underestimate your ability to distract any red-blooded man in that dress, Ruth.”

“Harry-”

“Hold the lift.” Any response Ruth might have been able to formulate was silenced by a group of her cousins joining them in the lift, making her move a step closer to Harry to allow for them to all fit.

“Your dress is brilliant, Ruth. Where did you get it?”

“A little place a block off Bond Street. My friend has a friend who works there and helped me find it.”

“I’ll have to get their name the next time I visit and then get Jerry to take me out someplace nice.” Samantha was a cousin once removed who had married a few years ago. Ruth had held her baby earlier in the day for a little while.

“Make sure he takes you somewhere very nice if the dress makes you look that good.” Somehow in the crowd of cousins, someone else had slipped in. Ruth had no idea how to respond. Harry took a step closer to her, his jacket brushing her bare arm. He frowned at the stranger but when he looked down at her she was certain he mouthed ‘told you so.’

Chapter Text

“It must be such a comfort, knowing that they’re all settled now, married and having their own families. Your grandchildren are beautiful.” Ruth wasn’t certain if the conversation was a coincidence or if her mother had seen her coming while she sat talking. She suspected the latter but chose to ignore it.

“They’re beautiful. Aunt Susan,” Ruth had agreed after seeing seven family photos. “I’m sorry they couldn’t come this weekend.

“Susan was just saying that her son’s best friend has moved back from Canada. He has an import-export business and since he’s been gone for a few years he needs to spend time with people his age. I’ve given her your phone number to pass on to him.”

“I’m not interested, mum. I have a boyfriend.” The word felt alien in her mouth, but seeing her mother’s glare made her feel better. Ruth knew that even though she hadn’t said a word about dating that was her hope. Susan had probably shown her pictures and discussed his ‘pedigree.’

“Four months is barely a relationship, Ruth, and it’s time to consider someone more appropriate.” Her mother’s voice was soft, of course. Nothing that anyone else would hear except her and her aunt who seemed to agree. “You’re not getting any younger.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my age, nothing inappropriate about Harry, and though you haven’t gotten around to mentioning it yet there’s nothing wrong with my job either. It’s my life.” Ruth wasn’t as quiet and only the fact that they were in the corner of the room and the music was loud kept everyone from hearing her. Knowing the evening was lost, that she couldn’t manage the party while feeling so upset by her mother she turned to leave.

And found the one person she didn’t want to overhear standing right there, a glass of wine in one hand and whiskey in the other. She stared at him for a moment, trying to think what to say, keenly aware of her mother and aunt were behind her. “I’m sorry.”

“I hope that apology wasn’t aimed at me. There’s no reason to be sorry for speaking your mind.” Harry caught up with her at the lift, still carrying the drinks. “Though to be fair it wouldn’t be the first time someone’s called me inappropriate.”

“I’m sorry I agreed to this.” The doors to the lift open and Ruth sighed. She was eager to get out of the lobby before anyone from the wedding came out and saw her, but Harry followed her onto the lift. It was a very small space to find herself in with only him, feeling as overwhelmed as she did. Harry would not just brush off what she’d said and let her go to her room alone to sulk in a hot bath.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean by ‘this.’” Ruth sighed and leaned against the railing inside the lift. She couldn’t tell if Harry was simply puzzled or if there was something else.

“Is one of those drinks for me?” She’d only had one glass when they were doing toasts and champagne was never her favorite drink. She wasn’t sure how to answer his question in a way that he would accept.

“I’ll pull the emergency stop if that’s what is needed to give you time to tell me what you mean.” He handed her the wine and gave her a moment to take a sip, but then moved his hand rested on the emergency stop. He would follow through, she knew. Harry didn’t make empty threats.

“This weekend. This ridiculous plan to make my mother and my family think that I have something in my life besides my job. I know how little free time you have after all the hours you spend at the Grid and for some reason you’re here where my relatives annoy you and my mother belittles everything about you. It was a mistake to say yes when you offered to stay.” Now not only was she going to need to find a way to placate her mother regarding her behavior but she was also going to have to ‘confess’ that she and her demolition expert of a boyfriend had broken up without getting herself set up on a blind date. And she was going to have to do it while going to work every day and seeing Harry and knowing what it was like to have his undivided attention outside of work and yet knowing it wouldn’t happen again.

“Your mother doesn’t know anything about me, she knows some bloke named Harrison who has been far more politic with her than I would be. And from what I can tell she doesn’t seem to know much about you either.” When the lift reached Ruth’s floor Harry pressed the button for the lobby.

“Where are we going?” If she wasn’t certain that her cousins would talk about it for months she’d head home tonight and miss the wedding. Certainly, there was no reason for Harry to stick around now; the silver lining was knowing that at least he’d be able to enjoy his Sunday at home.

“To make it clear as crystal to your mother that she hasn’t won anything and that you meant everything you said.” When they reached the lobby he threw back his whiskey and left both of their empty glasses on a table that was not meant for that purpose.

“I’m not ready to talk to her.” She would have to apologize eventually but not now; it would feel too much like losing.

“You don’t have to say a word to her. And while there are many words I’d like to say to her I’m not going to say any of them tonight. Unless she presses the issue, of course.” There was a gleam in his eyes that she’d seen a handful of times when he was spoiling to do the more expedient thing. The less politically savvy thing. It would be satisfying in the moment to see her mother and Harry, but then the moment would be over, and with it possibly any relationship she hoped to have with her mother.

“I don’t understand.”

Harry’s expression softened as he paused just outside the room they’d left only a few minutes before. He took her hand and in a motion Ruth had only seen in old movies brought it to his mouth and touched her fingers with his lips. “We’re going to dance, Ruth.”

Chapter Text

“Dance?” it was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

“You and me, moving in time to the music playing. My hand on your waist and yours on my shoulder. I’ll whisper something in your ear and you’ll smile and everyone will see how confident you are in your relationship and how unbothered you are about anyone else’s opinion.” He spoke quietly enough that even if anyone was passing they wouldn’t hear him. Ruth had a hard time not shivering at the mental image he painted. “I’m not Fred Astaire but I can manage to shuffle through any slow song they play.”

“Why are you here, Harry?” She let him lead her to the dance floor, an act that was becoming worryingly easy.

“It’s not like you to ask questions about the obvious.” The dance floor wasn’t crowded but they weren’t the only people on it. Ruth hesitated for just a moment before she saw her mother at the edge of the room, watching her. Tomorrow she’d deal with the consequences but tonight she’d let Harry be right. When Harry’s hand settled at her waist she let her own hand rest on his shoulder, which didn’t seem as intimate as when he took her other hand in his own. “Is this alright?”

She nodded before remembering that Harry probably would ask again until she answered. “Yes.”

“Good. This will be much more convincing if you’re relaxed and seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I can’t remember the last time I went dancing.” She knew it was a confession that told him a lot about her dating life, but he was probably already aware of just how little she dated. “You’ve undersold yourself, Harry. This isn’t a shuffle.”

“As you know a spy must have a rather eclectic skill set. It came in surprisingly useful in my early days in the service, though now I only pull it out at the Home Secretary’s holiday parties and other necessary but very dull events.”

“Lots of canapes and politician speeches at those things, I assume?” She’d seen him, dressed to the nines and rolling his eyes about his evening plans. He was the only person who knew that had more than one custom-tailored tuxedo.

“Bad speeches, backroom deals, and handshakes where people think having the stronger grip means something.” Harry squeezed her hand gently, then rubbed the side of her hand with his thumb. “And dancing with some politician’s wife who either wants to use the service to spy on a neighbor or is looking for a little fun and thinks a spook might offer just enough safe excitement.”

“Do you get propositioned a lot, Harry?” She wanted to tease him, to show that she was feeling more relaxed. To laugh like he suggested and show everyone she was enjoying herself. But there was a flicker of jealousy that she wasn’t ready to investigate too closely. It was ridiculous. He was her boss and her friend, though even that title seemed tentative at times. It wasn’t her business how many times he said yes.

“Not by anyone who interests me.” She was close enough to him that she couldn't read his expression well. It seemed wiser to let it go. The song ended and she started to pull away, but his hand tightened on her waist.

“One more. Your mother is probably still watching.”

“Is she?” She’d forgotten to look, caught up in listening to Harry. Perhaps that was his goal.

“I believe so. One more dance and a stop at the bar should make it clear you’ve forgotten all about what she said. We’ll slip out via the side door that happens to be near her table but ignore her completely, that way she’ll know you left because your impatient boyfriend dragged you away, not because you were upset.” He made a face, his nose wrinkling

“What was that for?”

“What?”

“That look you made as if you just smelled something rotten.”

“Boyfriend is a word that always makes me think of necking in the car or the boy you bring home to make your dad mad the first time you’re back from uni. The English language is lacking if there’s not a better term for one who is past his fiftieth birthday.” Harry shook his head. “I haven’t considered the term in years. Even when I’ve had liaisons with women it’s never gotten to the point where anyone would consider the term boyfriend.”

“It doesn’t give off the same gravitas of section chief or Commander of the Order of the British Empire,” Ruth agreed, thinking of the list of commendations in Harry’s file. Her mother might think he was a more appropriate match if she knew that one. “If you were an OBE would we have to call you Sir Harry at work?”

“Heaven forbid they foist that one on me. They probably will, at some point. Makes them feel a little less guilty about what we’re asked to do.” Harry's sigh was purposefully over dramatic and made her smile.

“I think I’ll stick to being an analyst where no one in government knows who I am and doesn’t invite me to parties.” The music slowed a little and she was tempted for a moment to rest her head on his shoulder. It was the shoulder where Tom shot him, making her think twice even though it was long ago. Which was good; she was getting too comfortable already with the gentle weight of his hands, the cadence of his voice, and his teasing.

“You’re too good at your job to go unnoticed forever, Ruth. Why do you think I refuse any time MI-6 wishes to borrow you?”

“I’m happy where I am.” She was, despite the hours, the losses, and the things she’s had to see happen.

“Good, because I’d put up a hell of a fight to keep you on the grid. GCHQ’s loss was my - our - gain.” It had been three years now but the first year she’d been certain her assignment was only temporary. It was still good to know she was a member of the team. But his words made her shiver slightly, imagining him fighting to keep her even if it was just to keep her on the job. “Cold?”

“No, I’m alright.” If anything she was too warm.

“Good. Returning to our earlier conversation about boyfriend, as distasteful as I find that word, I do think it’s important to finish this up properly.”

“Properly?” she asked, but there was no time for an answer when he released her hand and skimmed his fingers along her bare arm before coming to rest on her neck. Her eyes widened as his lips touched hers. In her surprise, her mouth opened a little and she felt the barest touch of his tongue against her skin. He didn’t try to deepen the kiss but he did linger for long enough that she was getting lightheaded. She could blame the wine, possibly, but she’d only had two glasses.

“Properly,” he repeated. “To make sure no doubt remains for anyone watching.”

“Ah.” She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed that he’d planned things out so specifically to sell their story or if she was touched that he would go to such an extent for her. She was having trouble sorting it out.

“Do you mind bypassing the bar and heading for the door?”

“I think you made your point already.” She had no idea if her mother had seen the kiss, and honestly didn’t care. It felt like a private thing no matter how public it had been.

“I was thinking we might take a walk on the beach if you can manage in the shoes. It’s warmer tonight and the moon’s full enough to see well.”

“The next stage in your plan?” she asked, following him towards the door that was, as he’d mentioned, closest to her mother’s table. Her mother did not make eye contact.

“Nothing of the sort. I’m just reluctant for the evening to end just yet. Despite your mother, I’m enjoying myself. Or perhaps in part because of her; deliberately thumbing my nose in the face of authority of any kind has always been a weakness of mine.”

“I did know that.” She’s not quite sure she’s ready to be alone with him, not that far from a crowd, not that soon after he kissed her. But she’s reluctant to end the evening as well. She slips off her shoes and sets them on a bench, glad that the hem of her dress doesn’t reach quite to the ground. “If you’re planning on going in the water you’re on your own.”

“I’ve been swimming in the Atlantic this time of year and it’s nothing I wish to repeat.” Harry took off his shoes as well, followed by his socks, and paused to roll his hem a few times. Why was the glimpse of his calf holding her attention? And why did it seem endearing to see him with his trousers rolled halfway to his knees? Maybe in part, it was knowing that no one else at work had seen such a thing. “Tread carefully, there are probably pebbles even in this bit.”

“I’d be surprised if there weren’t.” The hotel had imported sand to make a strip of the beach walkable, but on either side was the more traditional Brighton beachfront of pebbles. The sand was soft and felt good between her toes as she walked towards the water lapping against the shore. “I wonder how often then have to bring in more sand and how many kilos are washed away each year. Seems a bit like a tug of war.”

“You can take the analyst out of Thames house but you can’t stop her analyzing.” Harry laughed. She liked hearing him laugh, something that didn’t happen often enough.

“Who knows, maybe someday knowledge of artificial beaches will be a crucial piece of information in a case.” She was happy that he laughed again before they comfortably lapsed into silence for a few minutes, walking the length of the beach just a meter away from the water. No one else from the hotel had wandered anywhere near the beach, and other than the faraway sounds of music they were alone. “Earlier when I apologized I forgot to say thank you. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“I’m here because I chose to be, Ruth.”

“Why?” She bit her tongue the moment the word escaped. “Please forget I asked that.”

“When you were in my office a few weeks ago and I asked you about this trip you spoke of being an obligation. The odd cousin, I think you said. And about your mother and David blaming you. I hated thinking of you being alone, especially in the middle of family, a place where you should be safe.” The moon was behind him, casting his features in shadows. “The life we lead is a lonely one, we all know that. But there’s no reason a family wedding has to feel the same.”

“When did you decide you were coming?” Their conversation had been weeks ago but he’d never even hinted about his plans.

“I almost asked you that day, actually, but the moment never seemed right and by the next day, I’d talked myself out of it. But then I heard you and Jo talking a few days ago in the break room.

“Spying on your employees, Harry?”

“Not intentionally. I wanted tea but your conversation seemed too intent to interrupt. I do confess that I lingered in the hall for just a little bit of it; you speak to some of the others differently than you speak to me and I was curious. Jo was asking if your mum was pleased that you’d been able to clear your calendar and stay for the weekend.”

“Poor Jo was upset after that conversation. I shouldn’t have been so candid with her; she grew up in a very normal family where her mum volunteered to lead Girl Guides and baked cookies after school. She couldn’t fathom that some parents don’t care about their children.”

“I have seen a great deal in the world and I still struggle with that one. I made many mistakes with my children but I can’t fathom wishing they didn’t exist, let alone letting them know I felt that way.” Once again they reached the end of the sandy patch of beach. When they turned she could see his face clearly. He was disgusted. Angry. It was an expression she saw when they spoke of people committing treason or harming children; for her mother’s sake, it was a good thing she was back at the hotel.

“She’s not obligated to like me just because she carried me for nine months.” Perhaps that was the real reason she’d never wanted kids; a fear that she might have the same lacking in her as her mother did. In the moonlight it was easier to be brave and she turned to him, resting a hand on his chest. She could feel his heart beneath her palm. “If my mother and I were close I wouldn’t have applied to GCHQ, I might have gone to the finishing school she suggested. Might have married the banker she picked out. Might be using my analytical skills to plan charity events and junior football practice schedules. I wouldn’t have been seconded to Mi-5. That sounds more lonely to me than what I have now.”

“What do you have now, Ruth?” His features had softened, though they were harder to read.

“When I was a child my father called me his little shadow. He loved me.” She didn’t want Harry to think that her childhood was miserable or that her mother’s indifference meant she had been alone. “I thought I was going to be a doctor just like him. I'd like to think he’d be proud knowing that the job I do saves lives, even if it’s not medicine. I need a life where I feel I’m doing something to help people. And I have friends closer to me than any of my family. Jo and Zaf, Adam and Fiona, Malcolm and…”

“And?” Her hand still lingered on Harry’s chest. Now he covered it with his own. “I hope you count me as a friend too, Ruth.”

“I don’t know.” When she feels him start to pull away she panics. “I know you’re my Harry.”

He didn’t say anything but he also didn’t move his hand away again or try to dislodge her hand from his chest.

“When we’re on the grid you’re in charge but you also listen to me. And sometimes even confide in me. You trust me. You don’t let me work through dinner without having something to eat. You seem to know somehow when I need to stay and work through something and when you need to push me to go home. You’ve never been anything but respectful but sometimes-”

“Sometimes?”

“Sometimes I catch your eye just as a meeting is about to end, or I sit in your office at the end of the day to discuss things and it feels like there’s a whole world under the surface that I can almost see, where titles like boss and analyst don’t exist. What we have is not the same as any other friendship I’ve known, and I’ve never had a friend who made me feel like this.”

“Like this?” His lips did not touch hers, not quite, but his breath was a whisper just above her skin. “Tell me if you want me to stop. There’s no one watching this time, no one we’re trying to trick. If I kiss you now it’s just between us.”

“Harrison Parker is a very good man but I want to know what it’s like to kiss Harry Pearce.” Maybe she was beginning to understand that world under the surface. It was thrilling and terrifying. “Please.”

His lips were gentle, at first. She would have to confess to anyone who asked her directly that she had stared at them more than once and wondered what they might feel like. They were soft at first until they weren’t, his teeth nipping at her lower lip until she opened her mouth, the pressure becoming more demanding. His head tilted to one side and when his tongue touched hers she couldn’t hold in a moan. She felt her head spinning and held onto his shoulder with her other hand to keep her balance. When he pulled away she sighed.

“I… uh… that…”

“Christ, you’re good for a man’s ego. I don’t remember the last time I heard you unable to find a word to say. Usually, if you stutter it’s because there’s too much you’re trying to get out at once.”

“Bastard.” But unlike the last time she’d used the name it wasn’t spoken with anger but with affection. He looked well pleased with himself but sobered a little when she took a half step backward and let her hand slide away from his shoulder.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He raised one hand to her face, his fingers cupping her cheek and the pad of his thumb brushing lightly against her lower lip.

“Since before this weekend?”

“Since you started barging into my office without knocking and unlike anyone else on the Grid I didn’t reprimand you or ask you to stop. Tom asked me about it once.”

“About kissing me?” Tom had been gone for almost two years. He couldn’t possibly be saying he’d thought about her for that long, could he?

“Thankfully nothing as blunt as that, no. About how comfortable you were in my office. He came in after you left and you’d forgotten your tea mug, the one from the RSPCA that later got broken. He commented on how no one else would even think of bringing tea into my office to have a conversation, just like no one else would consider entering my office without knocking. That I must trust you. And I think we both know the team uses you to deliver bad news because you’re the least likely to get your head bitten off.”

“It’s interesting that you bring up biting when your thumb is where it is, Harry.” She stuck out her tongue just enough to touch the side of his thumb. Perhaps with a little more confidence she might draw the whole thing into her mouth. As it was she was trying to give herself a minute to digest what he had said. The thoughts she’d had about him weren’t one-sided.

“I wouldn’t object to you biting anything you wanted, Ruth, but do remember that any marks will have to be explained to your relatives tomorrow at the wedding.”

“Bugger the wedding.” She’d half forgotten about it. An hour ago she’d been convinced she’d be attending alone, trying to free him of any obligation to put up with her relatives for another day.

“I don’t think your mother would approve of any buggering going on at the wedding,” Harry said dryly.

“Harry.” She wouldn’t have expected the double entendre, but then a lot of things had happened in the last two days she hadn’t expected. She laughed at his mock ‘innocent’ look but was horrified when her laughter came out as a sob and quickly covered her mouth.

“Ruth?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m sorry. I’m fine.” She felt like she was on a roller coaster with her emotions.

“I think we’ve had enough of apologies for today.” He pulled her closer and though she might have expected another kiss - and wouldn’t have protested - instead he wrapped both arms around her and nestled her head against his chest. Another small sob was released as she relaxed into him.

“I’m afraid my alarm is going to go off in a minute and I’m going to find this is a dream.” God his chest was broad and warm and stong but with just enough softness that she wanted to rest her head where it was forever. She closed her eyes and tried to memorize everything about the way he was holding her. “Kissing Harry Pearse on a moonlit beach can’t possibly be real.”

“I’ll find the brightest and most annoying fluorescent lighting I can if that makes this more believable.” His lips brushed against her forehead. “I promise you, Ruth, no one would call me a dream.”

“You’ve been in my dreams before.” The sound of the waves was hypnotic. She wondered if she really could fall asleep right there. Harry was real. He was far from perfect. She knew things about him and knew there were things she would never know, that he wouldn’t want her to know. But mostly she knew that he was a good man and that he was holding her, something she’d never expected.

“Sometime I’d like to hear about those dreams of yours.” He was silent for a moment; she wondered if he was mesmerized by the sound of the ocean too or just waiting for her to speak. She wasn’t certain she was ready. “This weekend I’ve been Harry, just Harry spending time with Ruth, and I needed that. Needed to see you away from Thames House and the team and the pressure. I suppose that was my dream.”

“Is that what this weekend is? A sort of dream?” And if that was true could she go back to work on Tuesday, knowing what it was like to be held by him? She took a deep breath. She could. The work was important and seeing him daily would be easier than not seeing him.

“Not unless that’s what you want it to be. We can leave it right here, in Brighton, if that’s you want. Harrison Parker can go blow up a bridge somewhere and you can tell Jo you met a nice bloke at the wedding but he’s too involved with his work for it to be anything serious. Just a memory of a weekend, if you like.”

“I’m not the only person here, Harry.” He was giving her an out if she wanted to take it. Was that what he thought she would prefer? All the talk of friendship and dreams but he was willing to walk away if she said the word? She pulled away from his hold so she could see his face. “Do you want to leave it here in Brighton?”

“I’m your superior.”

Ruth coughed in response to that and Harry rolled his eyes.

“At work, of course. We both know you’re my superior in brilliance and good looks.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” One didn’t get to be the head of counterintelligence without a great deal of, well, intelligence. And pretending that women didn’t follow him with their eyes was silly.

“As I was saying I am your boss and even if you weren’t on my team in the hierarchy of Thames House I would be your superior. I’m also older and have a history that tends to show up occasionally to wave a gun in people’s faces. You know more of my history than anyone I’ve dated. I’m not a boy scout.”

“You should never go into advertising, Harry, you’d be rubbish at it.” There was something so sweet about what he was doing. “You’re selling yourself short.”

“I’m trying to explain that I can’t be the one to push for this. I’ve already done more than I meant to, but I get caught up in you whenever you’re around. I wanted my moment in the moonlight with you.”

“But you want more than a moment?” She understood him. She trusted him. Maybe it was herself she didn’t trust but she needed the words.

“I’m a selfish bastard, Ruth. I want all the moments.” Nothing else could have been so perfectly Harry. She laughed as she kissed him, the first time she got to be the one to surprise him with a kiss. If she could say everything she felt without words it was all in that kiss and her arms wrapped around his neck.

“I don’t want this to be just one weekend. I want you, Harry.” She felt a jolt in her belly when she imagined how many ways those words could be applied, the heat of wanting him making her flush.

“People will talk about us when they find out,” he cautioned.

“If I can handle my mother I can handle any whispers at work.” She didn’t look forward to it and hoped they could have a little while together before telling them. Adam would be amused, Jo pleased, and Malcolm unsurprised. She had to remind herself that people outside of her team didn’t matter.

“I work long hours and sometimes when I get home all I want to do is go to bed.”

“I might know something about working long hours.” She kept a blanket on her sofa for nights she didn’t even manage to get up the stairs.

“I brood. Sometimes I’m not very good at being around people.”

“It’s a good thing that I’m not people, I’m Ruth. And I know who you are, Harry. All of you.” He spent too much time in his head, something she did as well. Having someone to share his free time with would do him good.

“You don’t know everything.”

“I don’t need to know everything you’ve done to be able to understand you. And you’re not going to scare me away by telling me things I already know.” She kissed his cheek lightly. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Chapter Text

Waking with Harry in her bed wasn’t something Ruth would have expected, not even twenty-four hours ago. Or even twelve hours ago. But when he’d walked her to her room she’d been reluctant to let him leave.

“This is real, isn’t it Harry?” She’d hated asking him, standing half in the hotel hallways where anyone, even a cousin, could walk past. But it would be hours before she saw him again, and her mind was already in overdrive. “In the morning-”

“In the morning I’ll still be here and still be wanting you. If I’m stuck with you then the same is true for me, Ruth. You’re stuck with me and I have the resources to follow you to the ends of the earth if necessary.”

“I don’t think tonight would be a good time for us to, you know-” Ruth remembered the way she felt like her face was burning when she tried to explain. To admit that as much as she wanted everything a relationship would include she wasn't ready to jump straight into sex. “But would it be selfish if I asked you to stay?”

“There’s nothing selfish about asking for what you need and there are few things I would like better than sharing a bed with you, no matter how many layers are between us.”

It had been surprisingly simple, after that. Harry had stripped to his vest and pants. She had donned a ridiculous but comfortable nightshirt, the only pajamas she’d packed. They had kittens all over them, chasing yarn. She’d fallen asleep surprisingly easily with his hand on her waist and his voice lulling her into closing her eyes. Surprisingly she slept almost a full eight hours. Even more surprisingly Harry was still asleep.

It was a rare thing to be able to watch him sleep and not be worried about a bullet hole or the fact that he’d fallen asleep at his desk. He was relaxed, his features slack and one hand under his pillow. Along the outside of his arm was a jagged scar, faded to pink, but she could imagine it was once ugly and painful. She would learn his scars eventually, just like he’d learn hers. She touched her lips to the base of the scar as if she could erase whatever had happened.

“If you keep doing that I won’t be responsible for us missing your cousin’s wedding.”

“You’re awake.” She couldn’t resist kissing his arm once more. “Good morning.”

“It certainly is.” He pulled her in close enough for her to tell that he was awake, in more ways than one. But he only kissed her on the cheek before rolling away. “It’s from a knife fight, only instead of knives they were jagged bits of metal. The tetanus shot was worse than the stitches.”

“I suppose in addition to telling you not to get shot I should also mention that you shouldn’t get stabbed.” He’d faced enough pain in his life. “Thank you for staying. It’s easier to believe last night than you’re here in the morning.”

“There’s no place else I’d rather be right now.” Harry grinned at her. “You’re not the only one that needed to know last night happened.”

“We have three hours before we have to be at the church. Did you want to meet somewhere for breakfast? It shouldn’t take me long to get ready.” They could find somewhere outside the hotel where she could have a little more time with him alone before the rest of the world intruded.

“I have a better idea. We order room service and eat in bed. I’d like to enjoy the view a little longer.”

“The view?” she asked curiously. The curtains were drawn and if they weren’t her room didn’t have an ocean view.

“Ruth Evershed in a nightshirt with her hair looking deliciously tousled. I like knowing you sleep in a nightshirt with kittens on it. And I like knowing I get to be the one to see it.”

“I need to brush my teeth.” She wanted to kiss him. Wanted to melt into him. And if she didn’t take a minute to clear her head she’d throw any thoughts of moving slowly out the window and skip the wedding to spend the day in bed.

“I’ll order food for us if you promise you’re not running off to change clothes.” Harry sat up in the bed. “It’s not breakfast in bed if you’re properly dressed.”

“I’m not running anywhere,” she promised.

Chapter Text

“So how long until it’s your turn, Ruthie?” Ruth winced when her cousin Frank leaned over the back of the pew while they were waiting for the wedding to start. It was too much to hope that Harry hadn’t heard the question. “Should we mark a date on the calendar?”

“No.” It was hardly the first time she’d been teased about weddings. Most of her first cousins had been married for years and some of their children were getting married, like today’s wedding.

“Sorry, my friend, but when I convince Ruth to marry me it will be an intimate affair. Probably a small chapel in Paris or next to a fountain in Rome, something that suits her.” Harry turned around and gave Frank a smile that wasn’t genuine. It was a smile Ruth recognized from every time she saw him talking on the phone with a politician. “But we’ll make sure you get an announcement.”

“Paris?” Ruth asked when he turned back around. It was almost too easy to imagine Harry in a small church in Paris, holding her hand.

“Or Rome. Might as well start off a Grand Tour in a proper fashion," he said with a shrug as if it was nothing of consequence. As if they hadn't barely confessed their feelings but he was casually mentioning his thoughts on marrying her. How was it possible that she was sitting next to Harry Pearce at a wedding and he'd had such thoughts about her?

“You’ve thought about this.”

“I’ve thought about many things, but that’s for later. Right now I’m more interested in tomorrow night.”

“What’s tomorrow night?”

“Hopefully dinner without a relative in sight, no legends or stories, just Harry Pearce and Ruth Evershed in London on a date. Then seeing you home and kissing you goodnight at your front door. Because we’re not leaving this in Brighton.” His lips almost brushed her jawline as he whispered low in her ear so that no one else could hear him. If it weren’t for the strains of the wedding march beginning she might have turned to kiss him no matter how many relatives were watching.

“I’d like to have dinner with you, Harry.” She slipped her hand into his and squeezed. She’d like that very much.