False Omen Ch. 8

[JHyde]

Spoilers for Season 8. Please read Chapters 1-7 before proceeding.

The credit for the latter part of the episode goes to Silktie, who suggested the set-up on the HR thread a couple of weeks back.

I've loved your feedback, it's spurred me to finish this much faster than I'd anticipated. Please leave me one final review.

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Lucas sighed heavily. It had been hours since he and Ros had apprehended the third of the three suicide bombers Talat had ordered to their deaths, yet here they were, working through the mire of paperwork that would last them well into the next few weeks.

Ros grinned. "Yes, I'll take the hint. We should both get going. We've got ______ tomorrow on the PM's security detail. If something happens to him......"

Lucas stood up and stretch. "Sighing is a completely normal part of the respiratory system, Ros. They have sighs inbuilt with respirators and life support machines."

Ros looked quizzically at her colleague. "I suppose one of your interesting medical facts is that when you're tired you're cursed with verbal diarrhea." She stood up too as Lucas guffawed. "Those kids will need to be interrogated on Monday along with Essam, but I'd like a crack at them on Sunday before Special Branch want to be there too. So there's goes what little of a weekend we had left."

Lucas tilted his head, adding "Terrorism waits for no man, Ros." He stretched again. "Tariq got some numbers from Talat's phone that could prove useful along with everything from the USB. If we're really lucky this could give us a major jumpstart."

"More of a jumpstart than giving us the mobile numbers to track the bombers with in the first place? It will do for now, anyway." Ros was finding it hard to think much beyond her bed at that moment in time.

"Harry will be pleased, anyway. Well, as pleased as he ever can be." Lucas' grin vanished. "Where is Harry anyway? I'm surprised he's not back from everything with Special Branch - he left about 5 hours ago, didn't he?"

Ros sighed, in her turn. "He's at the hospital, with Ruth. I'm not sure pleased will be his mood for the next few days, at the very least."

There was a silence between the two as they gathered their coats and keys and wallets and headed through the pods. Lucas started to say something, thought better of it, and then returned to his initial impulse.

"Just exactly what is the deal between Ruth and Harry? She's his golden girl - how long has this thing been going on?"

Ros looked down at her boots, but nodded slightly, acknowledging that there was something going on between the analyst and their Section Head. "He is there on official business - partial debriefing, as well as telling her about the boy. As to whatever it is between them, it's been going on longer than my time with the Section, I know that much."

___________


Harry listened to her talk about her time in that small, dark room, letting her get the worst of it off her chest. He forced himself to keep standing, although the recounting of her beatings made him tense with anger, almost trembling with it as he watched Ruth's face. She was covered with the evidence of brutal interrogation; but the doctor had assured him that she would heal, they were keeping her overnight to make sure there was no internal bleeding. Some cracked ribs, some broken toes, and bruises to almost all of her body - she would heal, he had said.

"Harry? I asked about the son. Emir? Do we know where he is yet?"

Harry looked her squarely in the eyes that haunted his dreams. "He's in Pakistan, we think in Rawalpindi. We've tried his maternal grandmother to see if she knows anything about Essam's family, but given the fictions he's been spinning all these years.....we don't know if we'll be able to find him, Ruth." He had managed to avoid Bushra's name, as Ruth had while she stiltingly told him of her captivity.

Ruth was looking anywhere except at him now. "He doesn't know about his mother, or his father's actions. He could well be there against his will. And we can't do anything." Her voice was flat, empty of emotion. She was thinking of another boy who had lost a parent captured by the wrong people. Harry knew it and anticipated what came next.

"She died, Harry. It was my fault. We were followed, I should have been more careful. And then, I should have worked it out longer, told a different legend, said other things....."

He interrupted her self recriminations and stepped nearer. "Listen to me, Ruth! No field officer could have done more. From what you've told me, the only reason Bushra wasn't shot when Talat laid eyes on her was because you had managed to spin her a legend in the van and then get the guard to pause long enough to get Talat there early. You gave her a fighting chance. And sometimes you can't shake a tail, it just happens that way."

Ruth, crying openly by now, shook her head furiously through the tears. Why, she wondered, did she always end up a quivering, tragic mess in front of him like this? "But there was a moment, when you rang, when I could have hurt him, grabbed the gun....."

Harry took her hands in his. "Ruth, it might have made it ever so slightly easier for Special Forces, but Bushra was already gone by then, you said so yourself."

She continued to sob. "But they followed me Harry! Are you saying that Lucas or Ros would have let that happen? They would have done it differently, you're not telling the truth, they might have been able to stop us from being taken...". She reluctantly withdrew her hands from his grip to wipe her eyes, and reached for the box of tissues beside her bed. She had cried for an hour after she was brought here, all while she was examined, but the tears were not done with her yet. "They would have done something, Harry! Something I didn't do, I missed someth..."

Harry cut her off by putting his arms around her. She was clearly panicking, her breathing shallow, and he ignored his impulse to run away, giving in to the baser instinct of wanting to hold her. "I understand," he said lightly once she stopped speaking, "that when someone is in distress you're meant to hold them. To slow their blood pressure and calm them." He tightened his grip as she pressed her head against his chest. "Physiological response. Human beings need to be touched."

She fell silent. In truth, she could hardly believe what was happening. It was the closest contact they had enjoyed in almost three years. She tried not to hiccup through the tears, suppressing them, but Harry realised her disquiet and released her long enough to sit next to her on the bed and pass her the tissues she so badly required. Ruth blew her nose somewhat loudly and tried to catch her breath as he draped an arm a little awkwardly around her shoulders and said softly: "Ruth. Neither Ros, nor Lucas, nor I could possibly have done any better. You protected yourself and your charge admirably and as your boss I can't have you blaming yourself like this."

She did not answer him, but slowly calmed down and regained some measure of normal breathing. They sat some moments in silence, and it was just as Ruth was beginning to enjoy his warmth and nearness that the nurse entered, telling him to leave.

__________

It was a long month later, by which time most of Ruth's physical injuries had healed well. They had promising leads on several members of T-ul-M in Britain, and had surveillance on a man they suspected of leading a second cell. It was life as normal as Section D would allow.

But inside Ruth still squirmed. She knew that she had dealt with the operation as well as could be expected - better even. They had hard intelligence that would protect so many, yet she grieved for the old friend who had not survived that long day and night. Every day, her work was connected to Bushra, so even there she was unable to push the experience from her mind. And when she thought of the son, of whom they had no more news......

It had been a long time for Harry too. He was careful not to let her see him, but he often found ways to observe her on the Grid. He made excuses to speak to her more often, to have her come into his office, to talk to her alone on the roof. It was not unusual for them to share a meal at some point during the lengthy working day, and he was glad the old familiarity and teasing seemed to have returned to their relationship. But somehow, it was not enough. It never had been.

On a Saturday night, more than a month after it had all begun, Ruth waited in the artists' room of _______, apart from the other singers who mingled and chatted and sipped water gaily. She would have liked to join a better choir, one accompanied by a better orchestra with a conductor who managed to keep time, but it was enough for her, for now. She only really had that one night a week, but it was sufficient to keep the wolf at the door, at least for a while longer. She had told no-one her plans for the weekend; it was not as though she had anyone to invite, after all.

"Excuse me Miss?"

A young usher in a red coat several sizes too large had stopped in front of her, holding a creamy white envelope.

"Are you Miss Evershed?"

She nodded numbly. The boy handed her the envelope and stood there. Ruth went to open it, and realised the boy was still waiting. She looked up at him expectantly. He shrugged apologetically. "The man said I was to wait." She slit it open quickly, and flicked open the stiff card within, her heart leaping at the sight of such familiar handwriting. Harry's harsh scrawl jumped from the page:

"Ruth,

I am here tonight in the audience, but did not wish you to be surprised or angry while concentrating on your music. If you do not want me to stay, send word with whomever brought you the note. If not, I shall find you afterward.

Best,

Harry."

She slipped the card back into its sheath and nodded at the boy. "It's allright," she whispered, "he needn't go."

The boy nodded solemnly and dashed off, Ruth smiling at the idea of Harry earnestly approaching such a serious young man. She was gripped fleetingly in fear, but then remembered she had no cause for alarm; she has no solo, and her part sounds solid, she reminded herself. Now she need only worry about how to play it afterwards.....

"Places please!"

____________


Harry had heard Vivaldi's 'Gloria' performed many times, and several times by world class choral groups. But that night it was only background noise as he watched his heart's desire lift her voice in song. She was radiant, dressed in black like every other chorister in those neat rows, but somehow so much more. She was transformed in much the same way as she was when she cracked some difficult problem at work, except this time it was for almost an hour. Even more thrillingly, she had searched for him in the audience. Her eyes were blinded by the lights, but she looked anyway, during the movements she did not perform. She seemed to smile at every inch of the audience, seeking his gaze. As though she knew it was fixed on her from the moment she walked on stage. There was no-one else. Just Harry and Ruth.

_______________


Harry waited patiently behind a group of chattering women. Ruth seemed merry enough, caught in the enthusiasm of the other choristers. Eventually the crowd in the room thinned, and she wandered over to the refreshments table, her back to him. He approached her, determined that this time he would not frighten her.

Ruth smiled, sensing his closeness. She spoke, her humour evident in her voice.

"It's just the assorted biscuits now. I'm afraid we've missed the good stuff. I could make some tea, though."

"I didn't want to startle you," he rejoined. "You seem to jump any time I come near."

She turned around. "Well, at least there are chocolate assorted biscuits." She extended the flimsy paper plate, bent with the weight of the few biscuits she had carelessly placed on it.

Harry smiled broadly and closed the gap between them. "I think we can do better than that," he whispered. "I kept a jaffa cake."

Ruth laughed lightly. It was something she had not done in weeks. "I wouldn't have picked you for a pack rat, Harry. Is it something about men who boarded at school? That they need to fill their pockets with the best to make sure it's there when they want it?" She looked up at him winsomely, and he concentrated hard on drawing breath.

"Perhaps. Or perhaps it was to entice you into having a hot chocolate with me. There's a place a few blocks from here, and you can tell me how many times you nearly laughed when your conductor wobbled on her stand."

She laughed again. "Yes, she really does get into the moment doesn't she?" She paused, looking over at the few remaining choristers. She was meant to meet a few of them for a drink at the local. Should she really abandon her plan for normality so soon? This was part of the experience. She was meant to share this with people, to speak and to listen.

But then she caught Harry's eye and she stopped him before he could renege on the invitation. He was the person she wanted to share with. There could be no better moment. Life was short, and they had already wasted too many years.

"I'd like that very much!" she said playfully, taking the still profferred jaffa cake. "But only if we share this."

She broke it in two on the napkin it came in, and handed it to a bemused Harry. A ceremonial communion, the gesture of breaking cake and eating it together a signal that she was ready to accept what he had to offer her, and that she wanted to share what she had with him. The impulse seized her, and she capitulated gladly. Sweeping aside the years of regret and pain, Ruth stood on her toes, and placed her chilled left hand on his cheek. He shivered as she smiled, and kissed him softly on his lips. Once, twice and then pulled away slightly, keeping her fingers entwined around the lapel of his coat. She stayed close, keeping her lips close to his. Breathing him in.

He spoke first. "I have the car." Harry sounded slightly out of breath.

She smiled again. "Good news, that. It's cold."

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I know it's not a perfect ending, but it is a beginning, and that's what I wanted to finish with. Hope it made at least a few HR kids happy!
:hugs: to all of you for reading

[TygerBright]

you can't imagine how much I'm looking forward to the weekend... thanx a mill in advance, I can't wait to read the complete story without any interruption...
and ta very muchly for another canny L/R scene

[Kirayuki]

Yay!



Thanks SO much. Lovely ending to a lovely read.
(I'd say more but i fear i'll ramble into a mess if i say much else right now).

[Beatriz]

Aaaawww so sweet, perfect ending for an amazing story, I mean it Love how you described their feelings at the hospital and the moment they shared after the performance.

I'm sad because it's over you did a great work!!

[YourFutureMuse]

Yes its definitely the most perfect ending Its nice for the Spooks to have a happy ending for once! This really has been the best fan fic I have ever read!! Truly amazing! You have no idea how impressed by you I now am

[Tea Lady]

This HR kid is very happy.
Loved the fact Harry waited until Ruth was better. Timing is everything.

Well done. Are you working on your next Fan Fic now ???? Hint hint....

[almh]

And another HR kid happy Brilliant story

[Silktie]

Awww! The hug, and the kiss, and sharing the cake... it was loverly. I liked how you had Harry provide this very rational reason for why he was hugging Ruth at the hospital, somehow that's a very Harry thing to do. And no, that wasn't a tear in my eye at the end - it was just the wind...

[lwhite53]

A wonderful end to a wonderful story. Another happy H/R shipper here! Thanks so much for this.

[JHyde]

Thanks guys! Truth be told, I'm not completely happy with this last chapter, but I don't think I would have ever been.

I will definitely be doing another multi chapter fan fic, starting towards the end of January.

Thanks for the +reps too - great to see people using them.