This is a companion piece to my fic 'Waiting In The Rain' (a missing scene from it, which was specially requested). So if you haven't read that, please do so first.

How did we end up here? Ruth thought in wonder, as she gazed around her. She could hardly believe that Harry had offered her a lift home, let alone invited her for a drink. She'd surprised both herself and him, by accepting.

And so, as they had been driven through the city, Harry had chosen the pub at random. It was a good choice too. Cosy and warm, and though clearly a favourite with the locals, it wasn't overcrowded. Small groups were gathered, chatting and laughing enthusiastically.

Leaving Harry to buy their drinks, Ruth had found a table in the back corner, with a cushioned bench seat, where it was quiet and relatively private, but not so much so that it would feel uncomfortable. She was glad to be have been rescued from waiting in the rain, which she could see was still falling heavily outside. Gutters overflowing, and water streaming down the windows. The traffic was choked, and the commuters, visible as they passed under the street lights, were hurrying to reach shelter.

Contemplating her surroundings, she watched a group of friends in the centre of the pub where they appeared to be celebrating a birthday. The guest of honour, identifiable by the flashing badge that had been pinned to his shirt, had just been presented with an enormous cake covered with bright blue icing. Ruth laughed softly to herself as he made a failed attempt at blowing out all the candles in one go, his mates cheering him on loudly.

Over by the window she could see a young couple huddled close together, seemingly oblivious to the noise around them.

Suddenly, Ruth was reminded how she came to be here, and who she was with: Harry. She felt her breath catch and her hands tremble slightly in anticipation.

*****

How did we end up here? Harry wondered as he stood at the bar, waiting his turn to order. He was still amazed that he'd finally taken the leap and asked her, let alone that she'd accepted. He turned, and then smiled at the sight of Ruth watching the people around her. She really is an inveterate spook.

There were several tables free, and the reason for her choice was obvious to him. Hidden from the view of the passing parade, but not too private. A corner where the low roof and subtle lighting offered the opportunity for intimate conversation, whilst being able to observe the rest of the pub.

Looking at her, Harry was instilled with a feeling of nervous excitement, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He took a deep breath to calm himself and, realising he had reached the front of the queue, acknowledged the barman with a slight nod.

*****

Setting a bottle and two glasses down on the table, Harry deftly took off his coat and slid onto the bench beside Ruth. "House white, is that okay?"

"Lovely. Thanks."

As Harry poured a generous glassful for each of them, neither spoke. Then, as they sat sipping their drinks, still not a word was said. Eventually, Ruth surprised herself again, by being the first to break the silence, "Thank you for stopping Harry," she glanced out across the room, "A-And for suggesting a drink. It's nice to do something, well, normal for a change."

"Yes, it is." Harry was very aware that she was avoiding looking at him, but gave her his full attention, eyes firmly focussed and waiting for her to turn to face him. In fact, he was mesmerised by the way the light shimmered as it reflected off the drops of rain that remained in her hair.

*****

It had taken a few minutes to get past the awkwardness, but now Harry and Ruth chatted companionably. Both were enjoying just being together. Neither felt the need to talk about work, and they were grateful not to have the curious attention of their colleagues. The occasional periods of silence were not uncomfortable, as they might have been in the past. Instead, each found themselves relaxing more and more, and the quiet allowed them to internally ponder whether this could actually be the start of something.

Harry rose several times to get more drinks, and at one point, Ruth stood and went over to the jukebox. The music wasn't blaring, just playing softly, and gently feeding the mood. She spent a few minutes considering the selection, then deposited some coins and pushed a button. He scrutinised her closely as she walked towards him, and moved to allow her to reclaim her seat.

When the music changed and he recognised the first strains of a Gershwin classic, Harry felt his heart speed up and struggled to contain the sense of joy that filled him.

"Interesting choice," he commented, looking at her with a questioning tilt of the head, the one that he seemed to reserve just for her.

"I've always loved this song," she blushed lightly and her eyes flashed as they connected with his, "It's so heartfelt and sad, and at the same time, full of hope."

Harry smiled, and nodded fractionally.

They sat in silence, listening to the music. Reflecting on the lyrics, they each came to their own conclusion about what it meant.

There's a somebody I'm longin' to see
I hope that he, turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me

I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood
I know I could, always be good
To one who'll watch over me

Although he may not be the man some
Girls think of as handsome
To my heart he carries the key

Won't you tell him please to put on some speed
Follow my lead, oh, how I need
Someone to watch over me

*****

By the time they realised how late it was, Ruth and Harry found themselves sitting closer than ever, heads touching ever so slightly as they leant in to speak softly to each other. When the barman came round to collect their glasses again, Harry was the one who finally said it, "I suppose we should probably make a move."

"I suppose so." There was a wistfulness in Ruth's voice that didn't go unnoticed.

"Only if you're ready though."

"No, you're right, we should go. I didn't realise it was so late."

"A night with no interruptions for a change, thank goodness." Harry downed the last of his drink swiftly, standing to put on his coat. As Ruth did the same, he helped her into her coat, his hands pausing on her shoulders for a moment before he reached for his gloves.

Harry had long ago sent his driver home, telling him a cab would suffice when he was ready. So, after making their way through the tables in the now almost empty pub, they stood outside, waiting to hail a passing cab.

Peering skywards, Harry commented aloud, almost to himself, "So much for waiting in the rain ... where's it all gone?" He turned to Ruth before continuing, "I'm glad it was raining then instead of now." The light from inside the pub was enough for him to see her face, and he knew his implication was quite clear to her.

*****

Reaching Ruth's house, the cab stopped, and Harry got out to walk her to the door. Offering his hand to help her out of the car, he made no move to let go afterwards, and they walked slowly up the path, hand in hand.

The cab waiting on the street was immaterial, and when they reached the porch, Ruth turned to look at Harry, whose eyes seemed to glow back at her in the half-light, "I had a lovely evening, Harry. The best in a long time. Thank you." She smiled at him, something she'd been doing all evening.

He couldn't stop what he was sure was a goofy grin from spreading across his face, "That's good. So did I. Maybe ... maybe we can do this again." It was more a question than a statement, and Ruth nodded in reply.

Both of them had the same thought simultaneously: definitely.

I hope you enjoyed it.

If you're not familiar with 'Someone To Watch Over Me' by George and Ira Gershwin, I recommend you check it out. A simple google search will find you lots of versions, but the ones I'm most familiar with are the one from Mr Holland's Opus, and a live version by a certain British singing legend.

Thanks for reading.