Epoque Ch.1

[JHyde]

This is a fic I've been thinking about for some time. Most scenarios in which I envision Harry and Ruth getting together are dramatic and angsty, in keeping with the fact that they're characters in a drama.

But these two people have been through so much already, I wanted to take a pass at them falling into each others' arms more naturally. I chose to do it by having them spend time together away from the rest of the team but still in the context of work, which is something I could see happening. I wanted them to get together in the most natural, gentle way possible. With two people who love each other who share such understanding, sometimes that's just how it works out.

I'm not much of a romantic, so the success of this fic may be negligible. I blame it on the fact that I've just watched two of my best friends get married this last weekend, and I wrote the bulk of it during that time. So this is for two people who inspire me with their love and commitment - Courtney and Heath. Thankfully, they do have things worked out much better than our beloved spooks.

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Ruth seethed. But quietly; it wasn't as though she wanted to disturb anyone else and show them just how much this bothered her. Harry was running late that morning, and Ros had started the morning briefing in his absence. The Section Chief was detailing security arrangements for the upcoming conference of the Heads of the European Security Services and had casually referred to the briefing of the DG which was to take place in the two days immediately prior to the main conference. Certain Section Heads and relevant personnel were to go up early to stay and prepare, a fate which Ruth and others had hoped to avoid. Most of them would. Only she and Harry would be required to go up early to brief the upper echelon of Five's movers and shakers. This was bad enough. But worse was the fact that Ruth had found out in such a desultory manner along with the rest of the team. Harry had neglected to tell her.

The briefing broke up, Tariq and Lucas laughing at the idea of Harry and the other Section heads trying to amuse themselves at the lodge in _________. It was one of those ancient houses that reeked of old money and an England before the Great War. It was filled with rooms where one could imagine very easily a group of middle aged men gathering to talk matters of espionage and state secrets, followed by an evening of even more male, middle aged entertainment. Mostly naked women with dollars stuffed in lace underwear and crowned with coloured wigs.

"Nah, that's your scene, mate!" Tariq guffawed. "I can't see Harry with other old men watching...."

Ros interjected. "Yeah OK boys - we get the visual. Ruth, Harry wants to talk to you when he gets back about what your presentation to this lot once you get up there and your arrangements." She turned her head to face Tariq once again. "Make no mistake it does happen, the girls, but it's more likely to be in private rooms rather than the big ballrooms. For some reason men only like looking at naked women in claustrophobic conditions. It makes them feel like it's actually illicit rather than at a state sponsored event."

Lucas grinned. "Some of the best intelligence gathered in this business is when we listen in on men gawking at pretty girls. It seems to make them very chatty."

Ruth tried to smile and engage in the conversation. "The problem is, though, that I think some of them are onto us with that technique. I'm not sure how effective it might be after a certain point in proceedings."

Lucas looked Ros firmly in the eye. "We'll just have to make sure the bait is especially good this time."

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Harry had been back for almost an hour and Ruth could no longer put it off. She had spent the interim trying to shake off her anger with Harry. Why on earth hadn't he told her? When it came to work he was exhaustive in the detail outlined for her. But the slightest change to routine and he wasn't nearly so forthcoming. In truth she was worried - there was no way Harry could have forgotten the last time they were in a hotel together. Havensworth, 3 years ago now. Then Ruth sighed. He probably HAD forgotten. So much had happened, there was no chance they could have anything approaching a happy ending now.....

She picked up the files she was planning to return to the Registry. She wanted to go somewhere after seeing Harry where she could rearrange her thoughts without him watching them cross her expressive face. She crossed the Grid, deliberately avoiding Ros' gaze, not realising how agitated her walk had become. She swept into Harry's office without knocking and was angered to find him smiling at her, as of old. She spoke, with feeling.

"Ros said you wanted to see me? About the conference?"

Harry tried to wipe the smile from his face. "Yes, although I'm also interested in why you've been knocking things over for the last half hour."

Ruth grimaced. "Nothing at all, just an especially frustrating colleague who isn't that great with communication." She looked him squarely in the eye. "The conference, Harry."

It was his turn to sigh now. "I'm sorry you had to hear it from Ros, Ruth. I was planning to tell you myself when I got here, but I was late and she didn't know. I only found out myself very late last night when the DG called me at home. And I had to talk to Ros about what needs to be done in my absence." He smiled at her, and against her will she found herself softening towards him. Harry stood up, and walked around his desk so that he faced her. "I would have called you myself last night, but I wanted to tell you in person. About the trip. I'm sorry you have to lose your weekend."

Ruth couldn't help but smile back at him, especially when he held her gaze as he did now. It was a moment straight out of a bad romance - when they looked into the other's eyes, it was as though no-one else existed. There was a reason such moments became cliches in the first place.

Ruth roused herself, the silence troubling her eventually. "You need to brief me on what the DJ wants to hear from me. The new profiling methods perhaps? And maybe the changes I've made to risk assessment grading on a week by week basis?"

Harry sighed again. There seemed to be a lot of that going on in the Grid that day. "Yes, and some other things. I'll make up a list for you in the next hour and Tariq has a reasonably light day so you can draft some of your smaller tasks to him while you prepare. We need to head over tonight as we're both presenting to the DG and other Section heads tomorrow first thing, and then to the Heads of the various security services the next day. I'll pick you up tonight at yours - 8.30? You can be out of here by half five, I promise."

She nodded. "If you can get me a full list as soon as you can, I can get started. We can go over it once we get to ______ tonight on the way down and once get there. We'll manage." She left hastily, trying not to think about a night in Harry's company outside of the Grid.

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Ruth had spent the last few hours running in circles, trying to do washing, write a presentation and pack all at once. She tried not to think too hard about the fact that she was cramming her newly washed intimates into a bag that had last been used in her dash from Cyprus that last day of sunshine. And here she was, packing her meagre belongings to go and play an extra string to Harry's bow for the benefit of the brass. Every time she thought she had her life figured out, the old spectre would raise its head. Harry, at every turn. No matter how far she went, no matter how much time passed, he remained there and she stood here, the river wide between them. At some point, it was a situation that had to be confronted. She stopped in the doorway, the last load of laundry in her arms, wondering how this weekend could possibly be any different. How the impossible could be resolved. It was only as the doorbell rang that she came to her senses and threw the last of the washing into her getaway bag. This time, she hoped she was running towards something, rather than running away.

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The drive down had been pleasant enough, a little tense, but work had helped to smooth the way, as it always did. They sat at the bar, eating the sandwiches that served as their dinner, having arrived close to 11 at night. Unusually, Ruth was drinking the same single malt that Harry was enjoying. Harry reflected that he had never seen her drink scotch, and wondered if it was a habit she had picked up in exile. She smiled into her glass, not meeting his eyes, almost as though she knew what he was thinking.

"My father drank scotch. He was especially partial to Lagavulin and Glenlivit. He used to let me sneak a sip when my mother wasn't looking. On special occasions only, of course."

Harry looked down at the bar, absent-mindedly sweeping some crumbs away from the mat. "It's unusual for you to talk about your father."

Ruth nursed her whiskey and shrugged. "Neither of us like to talk family, Harry. Something we have in common."

He caught her eye, unwilling to let the moment pass. "Amongst many other things."

Ruth held his gaze, but refused to leave safe ground so easily. She changed the subject promptly. "I was down this way last weekend, you know. Not so far, but I went to Oxfordshire. Visited my old haunts."

Harry groaned inwardly, wishing she had taken the bait. Instead he took what he could get. "I used to tramp around those fields and woods too - not always sober, I'll admit. But there's a timelessness to the region - it's easy to be nostalgic for that part of the world."

Ruth smiled. It was the smile of a woman who has looked into the void and seen more than her share of pain, but who also knew beauty when she saw it. "It is. I stood in the quadrangle and it was as though time stood still. How many thousands of students have wandered through that small section of land, worrying about exams, obsessing over a new love, panicking over a future that may not even come." She grinned wickedly. "And then the undergraduates on their way home from a big night out threw up and the mood was rather spoiled."

Harry laughed out loud. Few people could make him do that these days. "The prosaic realities of university life, Ruth. But was it just a trip down memory lane?"

Ruth's smile vanished. "No, I went down for a reason. My old classics professor died two years ago. I came down to visit his grave, bring flowers. To mourn him. He was my friend for many years - he wasn't just a reference for me."

The silence hung heavy between them. Both were thinking of another man Ruth should have been able to mourn, but whose body was returned to Greece with a false death certificate and coroner's report. There had been no grave to weep over, no memorial to visit. Harry broke the stillness, unable to bear her thinking over that day's awful events, months ago now.

"It was a fine reference, as I recall. I think he almost considered you a muse."

It was Ruth's turn to laugh now. "A little. I suppose I appreciated his eccentricities. But had you said as much, he would have lectured you at length about the origins of the term and Greek mythology at large."

Harry poured himself another measure of whiskey and waved the bottle at Ruth, who nodded. "All classics teachers are the same, it seems." He topped up her glass, returned the bottle to the bar, and then sipped his own before he spoke again. "I did wonder why I didn't see you last weekend." Ruth flinched a little and Harry hurried to correct his implied mistake. "Not that you should have been in, of course, it was just unusual."

They sipped in silence for a few moments, Ruth feeling comfortable in his presence for now. This was the way it always was between them. Work, more work, a few snatched moments of intimacy and then a wedge driven between them with sudden force. How long could this dance continue? It would, Harry thought, be nice to hold her while he still had teeth and hair. But for now it was enough to be together, with the promise of a few days apart from the others.

Ruth pondered Harry's choice of words. Nostalgia, he had said. It was a word that literally meant to ache for something, the pain associated with something lost that you wished to revisit. Her own classics lecture played in her diligent mind. That suffering seemed so strong right now, in a hotel together. She could only hope that the history repeating itself this weekend would be the good parts, and not the chances lost.

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I hope this is working. Please review and let me know what you think.

[Tea Lady]

(21-01-2010 11:48 AM)JHyde Wrote:  It would, Harry thought, be nice to hold her while he still had teeth and hair.

Yes, this is working. Nice intro.

You have really got their relationship nailed down. I liked the fact there was a reference to George albeit a silent one. Not enough has been made of Ruth's relationship with him or her obvious devastation at his death or method of his death, in other fan fiction I have read. Ruth obviously doesnt have much of a life outside work to be able to just pack a bag in a few hours and disappear for a few days.

As for the teeth and hair comment, I liked the way you got that in. Sure I have heard it somewhere else before......

[JHyde]

No-one laughed at it the first three times I used it!! I maintain that it's funny.

[Beatriz]

Damnit! I can't read it now I must to go to have luncn, I'll read it when I come back

[Beatriz]

(Two hours later...)

That was nice! I enjoyed it while having white tea, nice match

I'm glad they can share a weekend together, and a scotch, talking calmly.

It is funny Of course you can hold her, before and after, she wouldn't mind

[Silktie]

Ooh, an HR story! Brilliant. Great start, you capture well how they're walking on eggshells around each other. Every conversation is a potential minefield between those two... And yes, congrats on getting the teeth and hair joke in there!

[lwhite53]

"Hair and teeth" line -- I laughed again! Like the story's set up and their continued uneasiness around each other -- so true to (their) life.

I wanted Ruth to be angrier for longer, not to just accept his explanation for why he hadn't told her directly about the conference -- he takes her for granted and she needs to call him on it. Otherwise, I like this, so far!

[JHyde]

Oh don't worry - she gets angry later on

[lwhite53]

Oh, good -- my guess is there's nothing really as scary as an angry Ruth!

[almh]

Oh dear, angry Ruth :O Really good so far, as always