Disclaimer: Spooks and all it's characters belong to Kudos and the BBC, and even though I want to wake up tomorrow to find Harry wrapped up in shiny paper, I doubt it'll happen
Author's Note: My first Christmas fic for a year, and it's not my last, even though it is Christmas tomorrow. This one is for Jancis, who gave me certain elements to work with and this is the result. Oh and thankies to N&M for the name!! Enjoy! And don't forget to review!
Merry Christmas
Kiss The Rain
The wine flowed like running water, loosening tongues and lowering inhibitions. They were glad that the budget had stretched to a ridiculously large amount of alcohol; their original plan of one bottle between two had gone down the drain within the first hour.
Wrapping paper littered the polished floor, shinning against the black tiles like multi-coloured snow. Various decorations of foil and tinsel hung from the tops of doorframes and the odd computer terminal. Christmas songs drifted through the air along with joyous chatter and laughter.
She stood against the meeting room doors, her back flush against the wood. A dress of soft red fabric fell from her shoulders, gathered at her hip by a large, black bow. Boots of leather crawled up her legs and brushed the hem of her flowing skirt. As she laughed, he noticed a faint flush across her cheeks. She held a glass of champagne in her hand; the bubbles were reflected in her eyes. Gold against blue. He couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy that those eyes weren't fixed upon him.
His hand was pressed against the door as he leant over her, his usual cheeky grin on his lips. Though his mouth moved too quickly for Harry to catch the gist of what he was saying, he knew it was probably a joke that hadn't got a decent laugh since the mid 80s. As he bent down to whisper in her ear, his eyes narrowed. He was glad that he had exchanged the paper cut for a real one. The cool and heavy glass felt like a reassuring presence in his hands.
It wasn't until a hand moved into view, not 3 inches from his nose that Harry realised that he hadn't heard a damn word of what Adam had been telling him.
"Anyone would think I'm boring you, Harry," he said, adopting a childish pout.
He made a "hmm" sound, his eyes never straying from the couple hovering outside the meeting room.
With a sigh of frustration sounding low in his throat, Adam turned to the floor. Let's see what grabbed your attention, he thought, raising his glass to his mouth. His eyes fell on the two figures standing away from the hustle of the grid, a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth. "Ah."
Harry turned to the younger man, his eyes narrowed. He didn't like his tone. "What?" His own was hardly friendly.
"Nothing," he said too quickly, with a shake of his head.
"Spit it out."
Adam swallowed another nervous gulp of his drink. "At the risk of being sacked, I think you're an idiot." He inwardly cringed.
Something flashed through his boss's eyes, whether it was anger or good humour he couldn't tell. He hoped for the latter.
"Do you like the idea of running down to the employment office first thing in the morning?" He asked with a dangerous smile. It was the kind of smile a snake gives a rabbit, just before it swallows it whole. Fluffy tail and all.
He laughed, though it looked as fake and as plastic as the toy car he had been given for Christmas. The same car that had bumped against Harry's heels all night. The same car that was now in pieces on Malcolm's desk.
"I know she wanted some space and some time to let the gossip die down a bit, and you've given her that. More than that…"
"Adam…" There was a warning in his voice.
"On the rare occasion that you've taken your eyes off of her tonight, all she's done is look at you." He gestured to her with his pint glass. Harry couldn't be sure, but for the briefest moment, he swore their eyes locked. "She's not bloody interested in Zaf. Harry, I'm begging you. Please, don't let this opportunity pass you by."
He met the younger officer's gaze and the corners of his mouth twitched. "Oh that's just spooky."
"What?" Adam asked, worry fluttered across his expression.
"That, what you just said." He gestured with his glass. "It's the exact same thing Juliet told me."
Adam's face crumpled, with something close to disgust. "So, you're telling me that I just unknowingly quoted the wicked witch of Whitehall?" He just nodded, not bothering to hide his smile. "Oh just shoot me now."
Harry laughed, a rich, melodious sound floated on the air like music.
She excused herself from Zaf, stepping away from his embrace and his pick up lines. With a small forced smile, she walked across the grid. She gazed at him over the rim of her glass. The new suit, the new tie, the same fierce passion in his eyes. Though she would never admit it, he was the only reason she had stayed so long. She loved the feel of his eyes on her; it was almost a touchable sensation, like an ice cube rolling down her back.
As she walked towards them, Adam sent a side long glance at his boss. There was a dreamy expression on his face, his eyes fixed on hers. Adam smirked into his drink. "You off home, Ruth? It's still early."
With a small nod, she put her glass down. Her crimson lipstick shone against the crystal rim. "I think I've had enough of cheap drinkies and even cheaper jokes." She partly turned back to Zaf.
Adam almost choked on his drink. "Oh don't let him hear you say that. He'll be crushed."
She shook her head, her hair gently falling around her face. "Night Adam." She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to his cheek. She pulled back just enough to see an imprint left on his skin. She raised her hand to wipe it off, when he caught her wrist. "Leave it."
She raised an eyebrow but did as she was told.
Ruth turned to look at Harry, her eyes finding his warm honey ones. "Goodnight Harry." She sounded breathy, gorgeous.
His heart skipped a beat when he felt her hand rest lightly on his arm; her fingers applying the smallest amount of pressure before moving down so that the very tips of their fingers touched. It was like electricity flowing through his veins; it always was when he was with her and the smallest thing would have him smiling.
He had to try twice before he found his voice. "Goodnight Ruth."
A smile, brighter than a hundred fairy lights, placed across her lips. No one said her name the way he did.
Adam watched in silence until the pod doors closed behind her. A small, hoarse laugh rose from his throat, with he stifled as soon as he felt the full weight on Harry's gaze turned upon him.
"You know Adam, that offer still stands."
"Tell you what Harry, you get after her and kiss her like there's no tomorrow and I'll personally wash your car for the next month." He winked and took a confident swig of his drink.
He smiled and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. Grabbing his jacket from the back of a nearby chair, Harry lowered his voice so that only the two of them would hear. "Make sure you give it two coats of wax, I want it nice and shiny."
Adam shook his head and watched him walk towards the pods. "You'll be lucky," he called after him. The rotating doors closed, cutting off the sound of his laughter.
x x x
The black curtain of night spilt open and rain descended upon London. Shop windows, umbrellas and black cabs glistened with crystalline droplets, each one shining under the orange hue of the street lights. The sound of it hitting the street was swallowed by the late night traffic.
The soles of his shoes slapped against the wet pavement, rivalling the thump of his heart in his chest. His breathing ragged, turning to blue swirls in the air. He didn't stop until he picked her out of the crowd.
She was huddled under the protective shelter of the bus stop, her snow white coat drawn tightly around her. His heart leapt as he saw her, standing in the rain, soaked yet still breathtakingly beautiful.
He called to her, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the rain. His feet refused to move.
She turned, her lips half parted to form his name and her blue, blue eyes picking him out on the busy street.
She stepped out from under the cover of the bus shelter, holding her scarf in place. She forced her way through the human traffic, smiling as she did so, until she stood not 3 feet from him. "Harry what are you doing here?" The intrigue in her voice was as clear as a taxi's head lights in the dark.
"I…" From the moment he left Thames House, sentences had formed from nothing, things he should have told her years ago. As he looked into her clear, stormy eyes, he couldn't remember any of it. "I needed to see you."
Her smile widened. "We always see each other Harry. We work together."
"No, I meant…"
She wouldn't let him finish. "I know what you meant." All traces off good humour left her face, leaving him gazing at pure and unguarded porcelain.
"Ruth…"
She met his honeyed gaze and felt as though she couldn't look away, even if she wanted to. Without even realising it, she moved closer to his voice, his warmth. Closer to him.
"Come away with me."
It was soft, so soft that she might have imagined it. But she didn't. She heard it as though he had shouted it. The breath fell out of her in a sigh. "What did you say?"
"For the weekend, or possibly longer, you know if…if you wanted to." Any and all doubt left him and he took that last step towards her, so that they were mere inches apart. He reached out a tucked a damp lock of hair back behind her ears. "Come away with me," he said again.
His voice drew her in, soothing tones that felt like silk being dragged across her skin, and she pressed her mouth to his. His lips were warm against hers and soft. He held her trembling form close, his tongue running along the fullness of her lips. She tasted sweet, like champagne.
They pulled apart, breathless, reeling from the sensation. He pressed his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her wet skin. "Is that a yes?"
She opened her eyes with a flutter of lashes and smiled. "Kiss me again and I'll tell you."
He inhaled the scent of her perfume, vanilla with a hint of spice. "My pleasure."