Title: Party Favours
Author: Cath
Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me
Summary: Harry comes to understand the consequences of lying to family members. RH. Early S5.
Notes: My response to Sakura's "Strange and Beautiful" challenge. I did promise not to write any more fics, but I had an odd desire to write something silly and fluffy and I was…uh…inspired? Forgive me?! Am ignoring those pesky writers, and so this is very early in S5. Probably also OOC.
Criteria:
1) It has to be happy (by the end or whatever it's your choice)
2) You have to somehow incorporate lyrics from the song "Strange and Beautiful" by Aqualung
3) The starting line has to be "She was annoying when he first met her..."
4) It has to be Ruth/Harry!
---
She was annoying when he first met her.
This had been about three months ago at his sister's 50th birthday celebrations. She'd been talking to his sister, Julia, when he'd first entered the hotel function room and made the unfortunate mistake of interrupting their conversation to greet his sister.
"This is Amy," Julia had introduced him, smiling widely. "Amy, this is my brother, Harry."
"Lovely to meet you, Harry," Amy gushed, shaking his hand. "So, Harry, what do you do?" she inquired, as Julia continued to beam as though she had done him a favour.
"I work for the civil service," he informed her politely.
"Oh really? How exciting!" she burbled. "I'm an accountant. Very dull! So you live in the city?" she asked, before continuing as though he had answered to the affirmative. "So do I! What a wonderful coincidence! We really ought to meet up sometime!"
Harry wondered if all her sentences ended with exclamation marks. "Would you like a drink, Julia?" he offered, with the intention of removing himself from the conversation as rapidly as possible.
"I'm fine thank you. What about you, Amy?"
"I'd love a drink!" she exclaimed, placing a hand on his arm. "A glass of white wine would be wonderful! Medium dry, if possible. Large."
He smiled politely, then glared in his sister's direction to the obliviousness of both women.
He returned with the requested drink and then surveyed the room looking for the nearest person whom he knew.
"Harry, I was just saying to Amy that you were coming to mine and James' for our annual Christmas party," his sister, determined to play match-maker, betrayed him.
He'd never before attended the annual Christmas party. Catherine had somehow managed to guilt him into it since she would only be back in England for one week and had some news she wanted to share with the family.
"Well, it turns out that Amy is free that weekend and so I've invited her along. Won't that be lovely?" Julia continued.
"Lovely, yes," he replied in a tone that suggested that it would be anything but.
"I can't wait!" Amy gushed, hand once again placed lightly on his arm. He promptly moved away in order to put distance between them.
The evening continued in much the same vein. Julia had apparently taken it upon herself to set up Harry with Amy, and so they were sat together during the meal and he had to endure her irksome conversation throughout the whole event. After food, the band started playing hits from various years.
"Oh, I love this song!" Amy cried as a song previously unknown to Harry commenced. "It was on an advert for the VW Beetle when I bought mine. Aqualung - that was the band." She started singing along to the lyrics. "I've been watching your world from afar," she began, and then quickly stood up. "Dance with me, Harry."
"I'm afraid that I must excuse myself," he replied, standing up and exiting the room without further explanation.
His sister followed him. "Harry, must you be such a grumpy bugger?"
"Yes, I believe that I must," he replied in a serious tone of voice.
"I just want to see you happy. Can't you just make the effort to once in a while be nice? You've been alone for so long," she lamented. "Amy would be great for you. I'll give you her phone number. Just call her up and ask her out sometime. Or offer her a lift to the Christmas party," she continued, pleadingly.
"I'm already bringing someone," he lied.
---
And that was how he came to be in this awkward situation. What had caused his mouth to speak those words he was not sure. But he knew that it would be far worse to turn up alone and make a dreaded evening far worse by spending it in the company of Amy amidst his sister's match-making attempts. His desperation to see Catherine ruled out the possibility of begging off.
The current problem he was facing was that he didn't spend enough time out of work to meet any women that he could potentially invite.
As for those at work… Well. He wasn't sure that he wanted to get any of them involved in his predicament. But with one week to go, there were no alternatives. He perused the grid.
There was Jo. Eminently able to lie to his family about the situation. But she was the same age as his daughter. And he couldn't imagine spending a whole evening in her company and knowing what to discuss with her that wasn't work related.
Ros. Also easily able to persuade people that they were seeing each other. But he couldn't imagine any circumstances under which he would actually ask her to go along with his ploy.
Which really left Ruth.
He mulled this over in his head and tried to think of reasons why she would be unsuitable.
She would be entertaining and enjoyable company. He would be interested in her reaction to the request, certainly. He could easily pretend to be attracted to her (his inner voice queried the pretend aspect of the sentence). She was least likely to inform the rest of the team about his predicament.
He again tried to concentrate on the negative aspects. Would she go along with it?
He tried to convince himself it would be a bad idea. Then he considered the alternatives.
Ruth it was.
His first opportunity to broach the subject was after 9pm that evening. Almost everyone else had gone home, but her light was still illuminating her screen.
"Ruth," he started. Then stalled. It was not a date, he told himself.
"Harry," she responded, looking up.
"I have a favour to ask."
She regarded him with a bemused look. "Okay."
"Are you free on Saturday evening?" he inquired.
She moved her head slightly to one side, and looked at him, even more confused. "This is a favour?" she repeated.
"Yes. A favour." Not a date, he reminded himself.
"And this favour is connected to whether or not I would be available on Saturday evening?" she clarified.
"Yes."
"And if I were to say yes, you wouldn't start judging me on the fact that my only plans on a Saturday night were, for example, to stay in with a bottle of wine and watch television?" she continued.
"A simple yes or a no would suffice, Ruth."
"Okay, well. Yes. I am free. It's not because…"
He cut her off. "I have a Christmas party which I have to attend and for various reasons I would prefer not to go alone."
She smiled, unsure of whether she should be more entertained or embarrassed. "You're inviting me?"
"Yes," he responded shortly. "It's a favour," he reasserted.
"A favour. Right. Well, uh, thank you. And, uh, it would be very nice to go to the party… with you… as a favour," she replied.
"Right. Good. I'll collect you at 7pm."
He started to walk away.
"Harry?" she called out.
"Yes, Ruth?"
"This favour. There's nothing else to it is there?"
"Nothing," he paused. "Except that you'll be my, uh, date. But only as a favour."
"Sounds lovely, Harry," Ruth replied, only half sarcastically.
"Saturday, 7pm," he responded.
---
He arrived at her house at 7pm prompt. He parked outside her house, but there was no sign of her imminent entrance, so he went to her door and rang the bell.
She opened the door, breathless with activity. "Hang on a minute, I'm nearly ready," she greeted him before running upstairs.
It was a good thing, he thought, as he couldn't currently think of an appropriate sentence to respond with.
Five minutes later she returned. "Ready."
"You look very nice," he commented. Really, he thought, she looked far better than "nice", but this was only a favour and she was not his date. Really.
"Thank you," she replied. "As do you."
---
An hour later they arrived at his sister's house.
"Harry!" Julia greeted him at the door. He smiled insincerely and passed her a bottle of wine. "And this must be…" she paused.
"Ruth."
"Right, Ruth. Lovely to finally meet you! Here, let me take your coat."
Harry slowly guided Ruth into the large living area.
"Dad, you made it finally," Catherine greeted him. He gave her a brief hug. "It only started about 3 hours ago. I've been stuck all afternoon hearing stories from Great Aunt Mary about all the things you used to get up to when you were little. It's been quite educational really." She turned to Ruth. "Obviously he's not going to do the polite thing and introduce us. Catherine." She held out a hand.
"Ruth," she replied, shaking her hand. "You're the film-maker in Tel Aviv? I've heard a lot about you."
"Well, Dad hasn't said a word about you," Catherine commented, giving her father a querying look.
Harry leaned towards Ruth with an apologetic look. "Would you like a drink?" he asked quietly.
"A glass of wine, thanks."
"Same here, please," Catherine smiled.
As he walked away, he could hear his daughter start to give Ruth the third degree. He wondered how best to make it up to her.
---
He watched from across the room as Ruth engaged easily in discussion with his sister. He wondered if he should go rescue her, but her glances back in his direction did not seem to be in desperation. When separated from her, he'd watched her most of the evening; constantly aware of where she was and whether he needed to intervene. It was only fair, he reasoned, having put her in this situation.
"Your girlfriend seems nice," his daughter informed him, approaching from behind. "Very intelligent. Very well informed about Israel. How did you meet her again?"
"At a, uh, café," he replied, and wondered how it was that he had neglected to discuss details such as this with Ruth.
"And the fact that she said you met at a book shop… What should I deduce from that?" she queried with a sly smile.
He didn't reply.
"Aunt Julia told me about how she tried to set you up with Amy," Catherine commented, looking across at the aforementioned woman. She shuddered. "Faced with that, even I might have roped a friend into helping me out."
"Catherine," he started in a warning tone, but then wasn't entirely sure how he should continue.
"She obviously likes you. And you like her. I've been watching you all night. When you're not standing five millimetres from her concerned only with what she's saying, you're aware of what she's up to. But something just seems… off. You're not actually seeing her, are you?"
"We're colleagues. She's just doing me a favour," he informed her quietly. "And you tell anyone about this, and I tell Aunt Julia that her car wasn't actually crashed into by hit and run delinquents."
She didn't respond immediately. "She's just spent the last 3 hours talking to your family, listening to about 300 stories about you from an array of crazy relatives, and coped very well with an interrogation from your daughter. Just doing you a favour, right," she grinned.
Any response he might have tried to counter with was held back as he watched Amy start to approach Ruth. He didn't give the conversation even time to start.
---
"So, Catherine's getting married in seven months," Ruth commented, after the announcement. A glass of wine in her hand was held at a precarious angle.
"Frightful thought," Harry replied.
"Frightful? You see, where I'm from, weddings don't usually get that sort of response. We prefer the more traditional enthusiastic and happy approach."
He could tell that she had had a fair amount to drink. He found it amusing.
"Put the glass down before you spill the contents," he advised.
"Is that an order?" she grinned.
"Would you listen if it was?"
"Probably not." She downed the contents of the glass in one gulp and was promptly awarded with a look of surprise from Harry. "All gone."
"It's getting late," he said after a while.
"Then we should probably head home. I mean to our respective homes," she amended.
"I should go say goodbye to Catherine."
He removed his daughter from amidst a throng of well-wishers. "We're going now. It's been lovely to see you again. Phone me when you get back to Tel Aviv." He caught Ruth's disapproving glance. "And congratulations on the engagement."
"You should bring her to the wedding," his daughter responded with a sly grin. He gave her a warning glance in response. "Fine. But remember what I said."
"Happy Christmas, Catherine," he replied.
"Lovely to meet you, Ruth. We should do it again some time. I'll tell you more stories about the old man," Catherine commented.
Ruth gave an amused look at Harry's response.
---
They arrived back at her house after midnight.
"Thank you for coming tonight," Harry said as they stood on her porch.
"Thank you for inviting me. It was an interesting evening. I learned an awful lot," she grinned.
"If I hear one word from anyone at work about my youth and paddling pools or running round naked, it'll be straight back to GCHQ."
"Running round naked, I didn't hear that story. Care to elaborate?" she teased.
"Good night, Ruth," he replied attempting not to smile.
"Good night, Harry." She leaned in impulsively and kissed him on the cheek. She pulled back half way, stopping as he turned towards her and their eyes met. And somehow, she found herself gravitating back towards him.
Drunken party-goers passed loudly by her house, shouting "Merry Christmas" and caused both of them to be aware of their surroundings.
They pulled away from each other almost simultaneously.
"Good night, Harry," she repeated, quieter, before retreating to the safety of her house.
He walked back to his car, sighing, and turned around briefly.
He pretended not to see her watching him from behind the curtains. It was safer that way.
---
End.