Here we go again! This one is starting in a slightly depressing manner with Harry, but there will be Ruth involved later. Not my usual type of writing so I hope I've got the thoughts of Harry right. Set in early to mid series nine.

Harry leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed. It had been a slow week. In fact it had been a slow month. No terror attacks discovered, no suspects needing arresting and no irritating politicians. Or no much more than the norm at any rate. The blinds of his office were drawn so he could relax in peace. He was supposed to be working, but to be honest with himself, when there wasn't a desperate emergency for a month, he'd already done all the paperwork he could do. So he had nothing to do, until a threat to national security was discovered. Not that he was hoping for one of course. So he resorted to his favourite past time of the last few years. Thinking of Ruth.

He knew she wasn't currently on the grid. Because of the quiet period they had been going through, she'd taken to treating herself to a proper lunch hour. He also knew that she didn't stay in the confines of Thames House either. But where she went, he had no idea. It would be easy enough to track her through CCTV from work, but he didn't want to. It felt like a breach of trust and her privacy. If she wanted him to know, she'd tell him. A part of him desperately feared that she was meeting another man. That she'd given up on there ever becoming more between them than meaningful silences and glances held on too long. That she'd given up waiting for their relationship to ever begin. It was not a thought that comforted him. He wasn't with her, and he guessed he never really had been, but the thought of another man with her, taking her out to dinner in her evenings, kissing her, or even more horribly, undressing her late at night before making her moan in ecstasy… Harry shook his head powerfully to clear the all too vivid images. And all from the fact that she was simply taking advantage of her lunch hour? He had massive problems when it came to her. But then didn't he always?

He thought back a couple of months to Ros's funeral. They had been slowly getting closer, and instead of asking Ruth out for a drink, what had he done? He'd proposed to her. And his main argument had been the number of people at her funeral? What had he been thinking? He had been a total idiot and now they were emotionally further apart than ever. Half of it was his wounded pride that she'd turned him down, he knew that. But the other half seemed to be caused by her decision. She no longer brought information she'd discovered straight to him anymore. She went to Lucas instead. As section chief, he should get all the information anyway, but before the last few weeks Harry himself had always been reached first. He wondered if she was avoiding him, and his heart dropped lower by a couple of notches.

Maybe it was time to give up on her. Maybe the great romance he had always thought would eventually happen between them, was never going to become reality. In order to save his heart and the heartache, he really should let his hopes die and let her go. Make it clear that their relationship is and will always be a purely professional one. But he knew, even as he sat in his office thinking about the possibility, that he could never go through with it. It would be easier to cut his own hands off. Because Ruth was entwined with his mind now, and she always would be, no matter what he did to try and stop it. She'd worked her way into his heart before he realised it and now he was hopelessly lost to her.

Sighing, it struck him as odd that he had remained more faithful to Ruth than he ever had been to any other woman in his life. A woman with whom he had shared only one kiss, and he had never felt the desire to ever sleep with anyone else in the eight years he'd known her. Even when she had left the country for three years, nothing had changed his feelings towards her. It still caused a surprisingly strong feeling of pain across his heart when he thought of George. Because she had not stayed loyal to him over those years of parting and had found someone else. But what had he expected? That she would spend the rest of her days pining after him, unable to move on? That was never what he wanted for her. At the time, knowing she would never return to the UK, he had wanted her to do whatever it took so that she could be happy. But now that she was once again in Thames House, and back in his life, he could admit to himself how much the idea of George tormented him. Would she have married him instead if it had come down to it? Had she preferred George over himself? Would she still be in Cyprus if he hadn't died? Were these the reasons she had turned his ill timed proposal down?

But however much he wanted to blame her for being with another man during her exile, he couldn't. He didn't have it in him to hate her, which he supposed was half his problem in the first place. Harry shook his head, trying to think about something that didn't involve his favourite analyst. Distraction came in the form of a knock on the door.

"Yes?" Harry turned and saw Dimitri at the door looking anxious. "What is it?"

"Someone's arrived on the grid," he said blankly.

"Who?"

"Um… well she's got no security passes at all…"

"Then how did she get here?"

"Well there's nothing about her on your personnel file, but she says she's your daughter," Dimitri said looking uncomfortable.

"Catherine?" Harry replied blankly. She had never been to Thames House before and the first thing he felt was worry. "What's she doing here?" Was she in trouble? Was everything alright. There was a very good reason neither of his children's details were in his file any longer. Simply put, he wanted them protected as much as possible, and didn't want someone discovering anything about them. All it said under children was that he had two, no further information, and he liked it that way. "Let her in then!" Harry said impatiently.

"Right." Dimitri moved aside and very quickly his place was taken by Catherine who had a small smile on her face.

"Hi dad," she said.

"Are you okay?" he asked instantly. "Has anything happened?"

"Calm down," she said. "I'm fine. Nothings wrong." He looked into his daughters eyes for a long moment and then decided she was telling the truth.

"Then what are you doing here?" he said as she sat down on the opposite side of his desk. "And how did you get past security downstairs?"

"I guess I am my fathers daughter," Catherine said with a smile. "I think your guards need better training. It only took me about fifteen minutes."

"Its wonderful to see you," Harry said honestly. "But you've never before visited me at work, so I'm… curious as to why you're here."

Catherine paused before speaking. Her father was not the kind of man who confided in anyone easily. "Last time I spoke to you, you seemed really down. I mean… depressively so."

"I'm fine," he said automatically.

"Dad don't lie to me," she said, suddenly vehement. "You lie to everyone in this job, I know that but please don't lie to me. I deserve more."

He smiled at his daughter, wondering just when she grew up into such a beautiful woman without him noticing. "Okay," he admitted. "I'm not fine."

"I know you're not," she said simply. "But thanks for telling me. What is it?"

"Not here," Harry said. Catherine looked disappointed, expecting him to avoid the discussion. "No, I mean I'll talk to you, but not here. Lets go for a walk along the Embankment."

"Okay," Catherine agreed. "Are you sure you're not too busy?"

"Even if I was I could take an hour out of my day for you," Harry said. He got up and they both left Thames House into the brightness of the spring day.