Crying Shoulder

[SPOOK91]

Hey guys, this story is set during 4.05, the rewatch prompted me to post this! It's basically a what if story. What if Harry had taken Ruth up on her offer of a shoulder. Anyway hope you all enjoy, it's set from the part where she is in his office and asks him.

“I’d like that. Thank you Ruth.” He smiled at her, the first smile she had seen him give all day. What was she thinking, imposing on him when he was so vulnerable. She had persuaded herself that it was the right thing to do, if he didn’t want her support then he would say, but at least she had asked. The idea that he may say yes had not registered in her mind until the words had passed his lips. Her eyelids had flickered in surprise and her voice had cracked with her next sentence.

“You could come over to my place, or I could come over to yours, whichever you would prefer?” Why don’t you just say it Ruth? Want to come over for some sympathy sex? Sure enough his eyes had widened with the suggestion, the barest hint of a smirk playing across his lips as she glared at the floor, wishing it would open up and swallow her whole. Finally deciding to stop torturing her he chuckled.

“Why don’t I come over to yours? It means I won’t be hurt when you refuse a lift back later on.” She lifted her head and smiled at him, grateful for the change of subject. “I could even give you a lift home.” He winked cheekily at her, her heart rate accelerating as she looked at him.

“Or I could take the bus and meet you at my front door?” She grinned and turned abruptly; heading for the door of his office, flashing him one last lingering look as she crossed the threshold.

He reciprocated the look, smiling to himself as he followed her figure as she walked back to her desk. He hadn’t intended to accept her offer of a shoulder, the thought of her thinking him weak being a major part of the decision, however, the thought of her thinking that he was rejecting her support would have been worse, he did need her and he didn’t want her to think that he was an automaton with no feelings. He missed Clive. The man had played a large part in his life, it was a given that Harry would not be the man he was if it wasn’t for Clive, he owed it to him to remember him.
He had noticed the small scrap of paper detailing to him that he was to ring Juliet when he got chance, he picked up the telephone and arranged to meet her. Apparently Clive’s cancer had spread, and he had committed suicide because of this, Harry had known the words were lies as they tripped of Juliet’s tongue, he had known Clive, and he knew Juliet. Surely, had this been the case then Clive would have told him. Perhaps his instincts had failed him this time, perhaps he was truly letting his emotions take control in refusing to believe that Clive had committed suicide, but it just didn’t sit right.

He had headed back to Thames House even more dismayed than he had left, he stepped through the pods and looked towards the one desk with the light still on.

“Harry? Are you alright?”

Ruth cocked her head towards him.

“Hmm?” He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. “I’m fine. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, I’ve just finished. Harry if you want to go home, I’ll understand.”
He paused, contemplating.

“No. You’re right, I need someone to talk to.”

She smiled and raised herself from her chair, moving past him to grapple with her coat, before allowing him to help her into it. He followed her closely into the same pod, a small frisson of desire surprising him as she stepped into his front to get out of the way of the glass doors of the pods. Instinctively he raised his hands to her shoulders, she tensed at the touch of his hand, just as quickly as he had put them there he took them away.

“Sorry.”

“No, umm, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting it that’s all.” She smiled gently and pointedly took his hands, turned around and placed them on her shoulders before leaving the pod. He smiled to himself as he relished the feel of her beneath his hands, he clapped her playfully on her shoulder and slid his hands off her much to her dismay.

She was all too aware of prying eyes as Harry and herself walked side by side through the corridors of Thames House, evidently leaving together; she was particularly wary of being talked about and was glad that it wasn’t particularly late at night and that their situation didn’t look particularly dubious. Finally they reached the dingy basement car park, Harry unlocked the car as they began to walk over, their footsteps the only sound that could be heard echoing around the deserted space. He opened her door first, beckoning with his hand for her to get in, she smiled at him and sat down waiting for him to set off.

The car ride was uneventful, and filled with an awkward silence and tension. How on earth was she going to make him feel enough at ease to talk about how he was feeling when she felt so on edge? Just his very presence made her nervous, she wanted nothing more than to have him in her house and yet here she was trying to think of any reason for him to drop her off and go home himself, until she remembered the reason why he was coming home with her. She had to remind herself that this had nothing to do with the romantic feelings that she had for him, this was about being a friend to somebody who had lost someone dear to them. Of course that was only part true, a huge part of this was about her romantic feelings for him, why else would her breath hitch each time he looked at her?
As the car slowed she was startled from her reverie by Harry’s disconcerting stare. She blushed and smiled.

“Sorry, I was miles away.”

“No problem, if you’re tired I can just go.”

“No. No, you wanted to talk and I want to listen.”

He nodded his head and took the keys out of the ignition; she climbed out of the car and began to fumble inside her handbag for her keys.
She had just managed to open the door as he walked up the path, they both watched as her piece of paper fluttered to the ground, indicating that she indeed had been the last person inside her house.

“I have some whiskey somewhere.”

“Glad to hear it.” He smirked at the incredulous look on her face.

“You’re only here for my whiskey.”

He winked and followed her inside, chuckling to himself.

He watched her as she poured, eyeing the soft lines of her arms as she raised the bottle to pour, the way her hair crept over her eyes as she bent her head. He only stopped when she handed the glass to him, raising her own to her lips and leading him towards the sofa, bottle in hand. She closed the door behind them and beckoned for him to sit down; he had been hovering around the front room, not quite knowing how to act in her private space. He sat on the left of the two seat sofa, she hesitated, almost going to sit in the chair opposite when he smiled up at her willing her with his eyes to sit with him. She sat down, at a sensible distance from him, sinking back into her cushions, his eyes scanning over her.

“Talk Harry.”

“Interrogation is another strength of yours?”

“It could be.”

“I bet.” He smiled a toothy grin and nursed his whiskey.

Sighing her looked at her.

“I went to see Juliet before.”

“Juliet?” She screwed up her face in confusion. Sensing her question he answered her.

“She knew him too, she told me that Clive had committed suicide after finding out his cancer had spread.”

She nodded, gesturing for him to go on the dim light playing softly over her features.

“He would never have done that, there’s something going on, I don’t know yet but I can sense it. Clive was murdered Ruth, I don’t know who by or to what end. I just know that he would never do that. It’s not him, it would have repulsed him.”

“Had you seen him recently?”

“Not particularly recently, it’s difficult in our job, you know that much. I didn’t know that the cancer had spread. He was a good man, you would have liked him.”

Harry bowed his head and downed his whiskey, putting the glass on the coffee table.

“Here,” Ruth filled the glass, a small hand covering Harry’s wrist.
“Thank you.” He cleared his throat and half smiled at her, tentatively her hand slid into his larger one as she moved closer towards him, concerned at how upset he seemed to have become. He squeezed her hand and smiled a watery smile at her and let out a gust of breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m being stupid.”

“Of course you’re not. Time to grieve Harry.” She looked at him pointedly.
“You never did get yours.”

“Of course I did, I just had nobody I could share it with. You have me Harry.”

“You could have come to me.” He spoke sincerely, running a thumb across the hand which was enclosed within his own.

“Because that wouldn’t have looked dubious.” She quipped sarcastically.
“And this doesn’t?”

“Point taken.” She went to remove her hand and was surprised when he didn’t allow her and then nonchalantly sipped his drink with his other hand. She couldn’t help but smile at their conjoined hands, and gaze up at him. Hadn’t this been all she had ever wanted with him? She felt awful for enjoying his vulnerability, but him being this open was enchanting to her, she wanted him. But was this just him enjoying the company of a much loved friend? Or was it something more? One thing was for sure; tonight was not the night to find out.

They sat in a companionable silence, sipping their drinks and holding hands when the noise of the front door startled them, it wasn’t so much a knocking as a scraping noise; somebody attempting to pick the lock. Instinctively Harry leapt to his feet, as quiet as a mouse.

“Stay here, don’t move.”

She nodded at him as he crept out of the room and hurriedly sped to the opposite end of the hallway so the person could not see him in the small windows on the door. The house was in darkness except for the lights in the living room where they had just been sat and Harry was having trouble finding somewhere to wait in such conditions. In the end he decided that plain sight would work just as well, nobody would expect him to be just sat on the staircase waiting. The door creaked open and the intruder crept over the threshold as Harry leapt upon him pinning the man up the wall by his throat.

“What do you want?” Harry hissed, squeezing the man ruthlessly.

“Ruth, I’m here to see Ruth.” The man squirmed, his voice hoarse and panicked.

“What do you want with Ruth you bastard?” Harry spat, his eyes darkening with rage.

“I just wanted to speak to her.”

“Do you not own a watch?” Harry banged the man’s head against the wall and hissed at him.

“Again, what do you want?”

The lights in the hall burnt Harry’s eyes as Ruth rushed into the hallway and flicked on the lights, her hand went over her mouth with shock at the violent portrait that Harry had painted.

“Gary?”

Harry looked at the aforementioned Gary and back at Ruth.

“You know him?”

“Yes.”

“Right. Good.” He dropped him unceremoniously onto the ground.
Harry walked out of the hallway and into the living room, fully intending to gather his belongings and leave Ruth to her late night shenanigans with her caller, when he realised that no lover would feel the need to pick the lock on her door and burst back into the hall. Both Ruth and Gary looked up at him as he glared at them. Ruth was knelt over Gary as he rubbed his throat enthusiastically.

“I wasn’t expecting anybody to be here.”

“I bet you wasn’t.” Harry butted into the conversation. “Right time for some answers.”

Harry pulled Gary to his feet and followed him into the living room with Ruth following close behind.

“Well it’s not the charm that attracted you that’s for sure. You were never adverse to a bit of rough but this Neanderthal takes the cake.”

“Excuse me?” Ruth spluttered, her face wide with shock.

“I need to speak with Ruth.” Gary looked imploringly up to Harry from the sofa, feeling disconcerted by the livid expression on his face. Harry sighed.
“I’ll be in the kitchen. You have 1 minute, after that it’s time to return to whichever gutter you emerged from.” Harry sighed, straightened up and looked over to Ruth who nodded gently to him, he smirked gently at her and gripped the bottle of whiskey in his hand and strolled into the kitchen taking it with him.

He had just begun to pour himself another glass when Ruth appeared around the door, her head popping around the frame, he paused and smiled.

“You should hear this Harry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Clive.”

He put the glass down onto the worktop with a clink, and walked back into the living room.

“Ruthie thought I should just cut out the middle man and tell you, since it appears that you are her boss anyway, bad girl that she is.”

“Ruthie.” Harry whispered to Ruth, amusement clear in his voice.

“Harry and I aren’t...” Ruth looked nervously at Gary, imploring him to stop with the innuendo, being caught by her ex with anybody in the house was bad enough, but being caught with Harry was a totally different matter. How on earth were they going to explain him coming to be there to the team when they inevitably had to take him in for questioning.

“You’d like to though.” He stated matter of factly towards Harry, he raised his eyebrows when Harry returned his comment with an unreadable look compared to the look of horror which coloured Ruth’s face.

After a brief awkward pause Gary told his tale; regaling the pair with what he had witnessed when he had visited Clive Mc Taggart’s home, telling them of how he had been followed and shot at as he attempted to run from the gunmen. Harry had confiscated Gary’s phone, all too aware that there was a very good chance that he had been followed to Ruth’s house and that this put all 3 of them in equal danger. Pulling out his own phone Harry dialled Adam’s number as Ruth turned on the television to stop anybody potentially hearing what was being said. Adam answered promptly, whether the man ever slept was debatable.

“Adam, I need you to organise a safe house.... from Ruth’s house..... I’ll explain on the way, we may be compromised....Thank you.” He hung up abruptly, and turned to Ruth and Gary.

“Right we are all going to have to stay in a safe house for the foreseeable future, I suggest we all be ready to go as soon as our lift arrives. Ruth, you may want to go and fetch a change of clothes.”

“What about you?”

“I have something on its way.”

She nodded to him and hurried up the stairs leaving the two men alone in her living room. The silence was unbearable, Gary took to whistling “Goldfinger” much to Harry’s chagrin. The screeching of tyres and Harry’s vibrating phone finally broke the tension. Harry called up to Ruth who hurried down the stairs with a small hold –all. He smiled at her and took the bag from her possession as she opened the door to Adam.

Adam smiled wryly at the pair of them.

“By the look on your face I would guess that Ruth’s guest spoilt a potentially very good evening?”

Harry grunted in reply and proceeded to put Ruth’s bag into the boot before getting into the passenger seat and leaving a squashed Zaf to sit in the middle of the back seat.


Right, well I hope you all enjoyed it. The next chapter will of course be set in the safehouse.