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Philippa · 24-08-2010, 02:10 PM

Hey everyone! I've posted this story on fanfiction.net last month, but figured that I could post it here as well, just in case there are people here who don't use that website.

Just some Ruth/Harry, because you can never have enough of that Smile

The church bells chime on a sunny day in April, but to the small group of people that has gathered outside the rain might as well have poured down, for nothing would help to brighten this day. It was the day on which they were going to pay their last respects to their friend and colleague Ros Myers.

They all enter in silence, and Harry notices that even though it's a small church, it still looks fairly empty with so few people attending. He takes a seat in one of the pews near the front of the church, and is soon joined by Ruth, who looks as though she hasn't slept or eaten properly for days. Her face is white as a sheet of paper, and her normally bright blue eyes have faded to a dull grey colour without their usual spark. Lucas, Tariq and Malcolm are in the row behind them, as well as a few other desk officers of Section D and some of Ros' old colleagues at MI6. On the other side of the aisle are Ros' mother, brother and sister, and further back is her father, Josselyn Myers, accompanied by a prison guard.

The service starts, and the vicar says a few kind words about Ros' life: about her childhood, her family, and her work. The vicar has signed the official secrets act, as have all the other attendants, so there is no need for secrecy.

Harry has agreed to say a few words, so he gets up and walks over to where the vicar is standing. He had always hated funerals, probably because he has attended too many of them over the years. He takes a pause to pull himself together, and then begins his speech.

"I've encountered many officers in my life. All of them extraordinary people, but I've never met anyone quite like Ros Myers. She was an excellent, outstanding officer, loyal and devoted to her colleagues and to her country. She joined our team in quite an unusual manner, recruited by another exceptional colleague whom we have sadly lost as well. But Ros proved she was worth the gamble many times over. It's safe to say that as both a friend and as a colleague she will be sorely missed."

Harry had never liked long speeches, and he'd said everything he wanted to say. Attending two funerals in as many days proved to be harder than he had expected. Andrew Lawrence's funeral had been yesterday, and Harry had felt it his duty to attend. But now he noticed that the emotions and the fatigue were getting to him. He returned to his seat next to Ruth while Malcolm walked to the front to say a few words and the poem he'd prepared.

*Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there, I did not die.

As Malcolm recites the poem, Harry can feel Ruth's hand slip into his own. He squeezes her hand reassuringly, not sure what else to do. But it seems as if Ruth is past caring about what anyone thinks of her. He looks to his left and notices that tears are streaming down her face. At that moment he really feels for her. Because it isn't just Malcolm's poem, or even the fact that they are at Ros' funeral that brings about such intense emotions. Over the past few months Ruth has gone through so much, and she's lost so many people that were dear to her. The tears she sheds are for George, for Jo, for Ros, and even though he is still alive, for Nico as well.

He did not let go of her hand for one second. Not for the rest of the service, not when they stood up and walked up the aisle behind the coffin, not even when they were all gathered outside in the graveyard. As they slowly lowered the coffin into the ground he put a protective arm around Ruth, and she buried her face in his chest and cried unashamedly, no longer caring if anyone could see.

At the same time Harry tried to remain calm and composed, but inside he was tormented by conflicting emotions. He couldn't believe he was actually attending Ros' funeral for the second time, only this time for real. There would be no spectacular resurrection for her this time. At the same time he felt torn and confused by Ruth's behaviour towards him. Ever since she returned to MI5 he had wanted nothing more than to have things back to the way they were before her exile, or perhaps for it to be even more than that. But he knew that she'd been through a lot and that she needed time to recover and get her act together. For a while he'd been afraid that the connection was lost forever, and that they could never go back to the way they were before. But recently she'd sought him out, made contact again, even if it was just a mere look, or a brief touch. But he wasn't sure if these were just signs of friendship, or if she meant anything more by them.

And now she was here, literally in his arms. It was something he normally could only dream of, but at this moment it didn't feel right. She was slowly falling apart again in front of his very eyes, and all he could offer her was a shoulder to cry on. But it was more than he had bargained for, so he wouldn't complain.

The funeral was over, and Harry suggested they'd go for a drink at the George in honour of Ros. He noticed Ruth's involuntary shiver as he mentioned the pub, and immediately regretted his words. Why did the pub have to have that name, of all names? But luckily the moment passed, and she quickly recomposed herself.

They found themselves a quiet spot in the pub where they could have a drink and a chat without being disturbed too much. They all caught up with Malcolm, whom they had not seen at all since his retirement a few months before. Ruth did engage in conversation with him for a short while, but for most of the time she sat quietly in a corner and sipped her glass of wine. Harry wasn't sure what to do. Should he go over and talk to her, or leave her be for a moment? He decided to talk to Malcolm some more. After all, he had really missed his friend and he felt they had so much to catch up on.

They all stayed at the George for quite some time. It had been a crazy year for all of them in which they'd suffered many losses. After the weekend they would be joined by two new field agents, and the team as they knew it would once again change beyond recognition. So now was the time to look back and remember the good times. To drink, and talk, and to remember their fallen colleagues and friends.

Eventually Harry went over to where Ruth was sitting, and poured her another glass of wine. She smiled at him by means of recognition, but did not say a thing. It didn't matter. At that moment words could not add anything valuable to the moment. A comfortable silence was all that was needed.

Finally everyone did decide to go home. They all supposedly had cats to feed, or plants to water, but in truth everyone just craved some peace and quiet time after all the madness of recent events. Everyone said goodbye to Malcolm, not sure when they would see him again. Harry offered Ruth a lift home, and he was surprised when she immediately accepted his offer without hesitation. Back in the day she would have insisted she'd take the bus whenever he offered to drive her home, but now she seemed quite content to accept his offer.

It was past rush hour and it had gotten dark already, so Harry effortless steered his car through the London traffic. Not much was said during the car ride. Their earlier comfortable silence in the pub had been replaced by a much more tense atmosphere. Harry wasn't sure if he was supposed to say something. Small talk seemed highly inappropriate at a time like this, whilst talking about work would seem insensitive. At the same time Ruth's mind was elsewhere, as all the events of the day and the past few months were being played over and over again in her head.

After a while it all became too much, and she found herself sobbing quietly in the passengers' seat of Harry's car. Losing control over her emotions was not something that usually happened to her, but now it had happened twice in one day, both times in the presence of Harry. In a way she felt stupid, almost ashamed of her own behaviour, but she just couldn't seem to control her emotions today. This time it was Harry who reached out. He took her hand and squeezed it slightly, but said nothing and remained focussed on the traffic.

After a short drive that seemed to last a lifetime, the car finally pulled up in front of Ruth's house. He insisted on walking her to the door to make sure she was ok, so he followed closely behind her as she opened the small garden fence and walked up the path that led to her front door. Ruth rummaged inside her bag for a moment in search of her keys. At last she found them, but she had trouble unlocking the door. Her hands were trembling; whether this was from the emotions, the fatigue, or the wine she had drunk at the pub she didn't know, but she failed to unlock the door and eventually dropped her keys. When Harry noticed that this was enough to send her over the edge into another emotional breakdown, he quickly spun her around and gathered her in his arms just like he had done earlier that day. They stood there like that for quite some time when Ruth finally looked up at him. And when those watery, yet beautiful grey eyes met his gaze his self-restraint finally began to waver.

He bend forward slightly and let his lips brush past hers as they met in a gentle kiss. It didn't take him long to realise what he was doing, and he immediately pulled back.

"Oh god Ruth I'm so sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have done this, not now, not on this day of all days."

He felt like an idiot. Surely she would think he was just taking advantage of her frail emotional state, and he had ruined the possibility of there ever being anything between them by just one stupid action.

He hardly dared to look at her, but he was forced to do so as she cupped his face with both her hands, just like she had done all those years ago.

"I'm not sorry," she said as she returned the kiss, this time with a fierceness and intensity he didn't know she possessed.

Their foreheads rested against each other as they finally ended the kiss, both taken aback by the intensity of it all.

"Are you sure this is the right time to be doing this?" Harry asked, still unsure about this sudden change of events. "I wouldn't want you to think I'm taking advantage of the situation."

"You're not, and I would never think that." She replied. "We've lost so much valuable time already Harry, and I'm done waiting. I need you right now, I don't want to be on my own anymore."

She turned around to pick up her keys, and opened her front door in one swift move. She took hold of his hand and led him inside, softly closing the door behind them.

And so with every ending, there's a new beginning.

fin

*Malcolm's poem is by Mary Frye