The Harold Palmer Affair Part III

[Silktie]

Warning: Contains suggestive language and situations


To fake or not to fake, that is the question


The next morning, Harry caught himself whistling in the shower. And whilst shaving, he refrained from looking his reflection in the eye in the mirror, knowing what he would see there: hope. He knew that it was foolish to read too much into the events of the previous day, and tried to remind himself that Ruth was playing a part, like he was supposed to be. And failed miserably. He carefully knotted his tie, the gold silk one, and refused to acknowledge that he was wearing it because she had once told him that she liked it. His mobile beeped, letting him know that his driver was there. On the drive into work he watched early morning London go by, trying not to think about the way she had reciprocated when he’d kissed her, once again without success. As he got out in front of Thames House, he had a tingling feeling running through his veins, and he wasn’t sure whether it was anticipation or dread at what the day might bring. Perhaps a bit of both, he decided as he walked onto the Grid.

She was already there, busily typing away at her station. Without realising, his pace slowed and his gaze softened as it lingered on her. Her head came up and her eyes met his, and she smiled at him. A genuine smile, he thought and his heart lifted. He was in deep trouble, he realised as he walked into his office. There was no longer any chance of him not crossing the line between the professional and the personal on this operation. In fact, he acknowledged in a moment of brutal honesty; that line was already some distance behind him.

Any further self-reflection on his part was curtailed by the arrival of Ruth and Tariq. The techie laid a small recorder on Harry’s desk.
“Your soundtrack. I gave you three options, varying in length and intensity.”
Harry’s eyes met Ruth’s incredulously. “Intensity?” he queried.
“I think he means ‘passion’, varying in the degree of ‘passion’ displayed,” Ruth interjected helpfully, a mischievous glint in her eye.
“Hells bells,” Harry muttered, and Ruth had to work hard to suppress a smile.
“Yes,” Tariq continued, oblivious to the discomfort of his boss. “I suggest you use number three first, short and passionate. That’s usually the way it goes when two lovers haven’t seen each other for a while, right?”
“Is it.” Harry glared at the recorder as though it had personally offended him.
“Number one is medium in length and passion, and number two is long and…” Looking up, Tariq found that Harry’s glare was now directed at him and he trailed off.
“Well, you get the idea,” he finished lamely before moving towards the door.

Harry waited until Tariq had closed the door behind him before speaking.
“That boy should not know that much about sex at his age,” he grumbled, obviously quite flustered by events.
Ruth lost the battle against suppressing her smile.
“I suppose you were totally innocent about these things when you were his age then?”
Harry’s face reddened and he glanced at her, to find her smiling softly at him.
“Well. Perhaps not totally innocent,” he conceded, the corners of his mouth beginning to lift.
Their eyes held in a long wordless moment. Ruth was enchanted by the adorably bashful expression on Harry’s face, and forgot about their troubled history for those few seconds. Harry in turn noticed, perhaps for the first time since her return from Cyprus, an expression of pure joy on her face, and it transformed her. She became to him in that moment luminously beautiful and his heart lurched as he felt himself fall in love with her all over again. He really was in trouble. And he didn’t care in the least.

“Right.” Harry was the first to break eye contact and move them back to the task at hand. He gestured to the file in front of him.
“Tariq has managed to hack into the records of the company that installed the surveillance equipment in Fedorov’s hotel. Our seedy Russian friend lied about there being no CCTV on that floor. There is also a hidden camera in the elevator and in the underground parking garage.”
“Sound?” she asked, a small frown of concentration between her eyebrows.
“No. Visual only outside the room, audio only inside.”
“So… We’ll have to give him a bit of a show until we’re in the room,” Ruth concluded, trying not to sound too happy about it.
Harry was relieved. He was going to suggest the same, but he didn’t want to seem too eager. Instead he nodded, doing his best to curb his enthusiasm.
“I’d also like us to discuss Harold’s work, erm, after. As pillow talk. Whet Sergei’s appetite as to the kind of information Harold can provide.”

He handed her a folder with the information he wanted them to include in said pillow talk and Ruth got up to leave. Harry couldn’t help his eyes being drawn once again to the short, tight skirt and lingering there for a few seconds. When he looked up she was watching him, her expression unreadable. Embarrassed at being caught, he looked away and mumbled, “Not used to seeing you in such clothes…”
She relented. “And I’m certainly not used to wearing them.”
Her eyes swept over his attire and she thought about commenting on the tie, but her head filled with visions of taking it off him later, the gold silk flowing through her hands smoothly. It was her turn to flush before mumbling, “I’d better get on with this,” before flapping the folder at him and hastily departing. She left a bemused man behind, wondering what on earth had been going through her head as she stood there staring at his tie. It was going to be a bloody long day, he decided.

* * *

It was dark by the time Harry drove them to Fedorov’s hotel. They had seen little of each other since that early morning meeting. Ruth had been busy with research for Alec and the team’s operation, whilst Harry had been in meetings for most of the day. She glanced over at him, watching the streetlights intermittently light his face. His expression was closed to her and she wondered what he was thinking, whether he felt the same nervous excitement that she did at the next few hours. Her eyes traced the lines on his face. A face with character. Such a lived in face, she thought and was almost overcome by a desire to trace those lines with her fingers. He became aware of her scrutiny and took his eyes from the road momentarily to look at her.
“All right?” he asked softly, and she smiled.
“Yes.” She turned her eyes down to her lap and his returned to the road.
“Good.”

They drove in companionable silence until Harry turned into the underground parking garage. Mindful of the fact that there was CCTV here, she slid her hand over Harry’s shoulder and into his hair, caressing the back of his head. The touch was unexpected and he tensed for a moment before relaxing under her hand. A smile played around his lips and she thought he looked almost happy, and wished that this was more than pretence.

They got out and Harry slid his arm around her as they walked to the private elevator. Once inside, they stood apart for a few seconds before Ruth said jokingly, “Lights, camera, action,” and drew him towards her by his tie. She saw a fleeting expression of disappointment on his face at her words, before his eyes closed and he kissed her deeply. Both were so engrossed in the kiss that they didn’t notice the elevator had stopped on their floor and the door had opened. Eventually Ruth realised and pulled back, her laugh a rush of air escaping from her.
“We should…” She gestured over his shoulder.
“Hmm,” was all he could manage before ushering her out of the elevator. She had managed to loosen his tie and the first few buttons of his shirt whilst they’d been kissing and he smiled to himself, pleased and - hopeful.

Before he could unlock the door of the room she pulled him towards her again, her hands in his hair as she whispered in his ear, “Seedy Russian coming our way.” Harry pressed her to the wall, one hand pulling her lower body tight against him whilst the other began to open her shirt buttons and he dropped his head to kiss her chest. They were interrupted by an amused clearing of the throat behind them. Harry pulled back and looked at her, and for a split second she could read everything that he hoped for in those expressive eyes, before he managed to hide it.
“Harold,” Fedorov greeted as his eyes lingered on Ruth’s cleavage, which caused Harry’s face to darken with anger.
“I’m glad you took up my offer. I’ve asked the staff to put some champagne in your room.”
“That’s gracious of you. Thank you,” Harry responded, his voice sounding hoarse.
The Russian glanced between the two obviously very aroused individuals before him and smirked.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. Enjoy your evening.”

Harry hustled Ruth inside the room before commenting, “Did you see the way he eyed you up? Bloody cheek!” He lifted his eyebrows at her in a wordless encouragement to take up her role once more.
“Oh don’t fret, darling. You know I only want you,” she responded in as sultry a voice as she could muster, biting her lip to stop from laughing.
Harry gave her an encouraging smile before saying reluctantly, “Shall we have some champagne first?”
She walked over to the bed before responding, “Come here, let me see,” and then laughing. “Hmm, I do like the feel of that. I don’t think you can wait any longer…”
“Bloody hell, Ruth,” Harry groaned, “If you’re not naked in ten seconds I’m ripping those clothes off you.”
Harry quietly placed the recorder in the centre of the cushions, then made a motion to Ruth to keep talking whilst he selected the recommended option three. Ruth thought quickly before saying, “Do hurry up, Harold. Get those pants off and come here, it’s been so long.”
He pressed the play button and the soundtrack kicked in.

They stood uncertainly next to the bed, not quite sure what they were supposed to do whilst it played out. Ruth looked around the room, which was luxurious and, for a hotel, surprisingly tastefully decorated. She decidedly avoided looking at the bed, marvelling at the absurd situation they found themselves in. When she turned back to Harry, she found him watching her.
Nice, she mouthed quietly at him, indicating the room.
He shrugged non-committally, and she knew that like a typical man, he couldn’t care less what the place looked like.
On the bed, the soundtrack grew increasingly louder and passionate. Harry looked pained, and when the woman became rather vocal, his eyes jumped to hers with an expression of amused horror. It was the last straw for Ruth, and she clamped a hand over her mouth to quash the laughter threatening to escape. Realising what was going on, Harry grabbed her arm and dragged her into the bathroom before closing the door quietly behind them.

As soon as it closed, both erupted into uncontrollable laughter. Ruth sat down on the toilet lid while Harry sank down on the rim of the bath, laughing hard.
“Good God, apparently I’m quite the performer,” he gasped before his shoulders started shaking again.
Ruth stopped laughing long enough to comment, “And I’m a screamer, it seems.”
By the time they regained some control, both were wiping tears from their eyes. Harry looked at her, his eyes dancing.
“I think I can safely say, Ruth, that this is by far the most bizarre operation I have ever been on.”
He shook his head. “Where on earth did Tariq get that from? A porn movie?”
“Er, yes actually,” Ruth managed before the renewed look of horror on Harry’s face set her off again.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered, lost for words as he imagined the young techie trolling through numerous porn movies to locate the appropriate audio.

The rest of the night progressed without incident. After the soundtrack had finished, they opened the champagne and sat propped against the headboard on the bed, fully clothed, sipping it and engaging in the pillow talk they had agreed upon. Every now and then they would kiss or make teasing comments, solely for the benefit of the microphones of course, or at least that was what they both tried to tell themselves. Harry found the whole thing enchanting. He enjoyed every moment he got to spend with her like this, especially as she seemed so relaxed and almost happy about it. He felt the awfulness of the last year slowly beginning to fall away from his shoulders, and chose to ignore the fear lurking at the back of his mind that this would all fall apart once the operation ended.

He noticed that she had absentmindedly begun to fondle his tie as they talked, and found the action rather intimate. Not for the first time that night, desire stirred in his belly and he decided to bring things to an end before he did something they might both regret later. He stilled her hand on his tie and her eyes flew to his as she became aware of what she’d been doing. He watched as the blush spread across her cheeks, then drew his finger across his throat to indicate they were finishing up. She nodded and slowly pulled her hand from under his, dropping her gaze to the duvet.

They faked a work-related call, after which Harry bitterly bemoaned the fact that there wouldn’t be time for a round two. Hopefully that would persuade Fedorov that Harold was ripe for further entrapment. They drove home in silence, each lost in their own somewhat confused thoughts. And for the second night running, each resorted to long, cold showers before going to bed.

tbc

[Tea Lady]

Very funny Silktie. Bet Tariq has never enjoyed an assignment so much.

[DogSoSmall]

So, do I admit that I found this six minutes after you posted it? Not that I've been checking all day, or anything.

[Sparky]

Love the bemused Harry with options 1,2 or 3 and Tariq must have loved his work that day!

[Aria]

Lovely chapter, Silktie. Very funny and I agree with the others that Tariq would have loved his job when putting that soundtrack together!! Keep up the wonderful work.

[Fidget]

I am loving this story, well done

[cateau1]

So good Silktie. I love the premise of H and R having to 'fake' a relationship for the sake of an op.

[A Cousin]

They stood uncertainly next to the bed, not quite sure what they were supposed to do whilst it played out."

For pity's sake, someone hand them the Kama Sutra! Here Ruth, let me demonstrate.

I am knee deep in Fanfic cliche fluff. Very, very funny Silktie!

[Obsession]

Awe.... you're killing me Silktie... but I'm loving it!

[HellsBells]

Love Tariq in this fic, he seems to be enjoying this situation!