When a life is at stake, does timing mean everything or nothing?

Spoilers for s9, including wild speculation for the end of s9.

This is my attempt at an angsty end of series cliffhanger. I'm not sure how well it works, but it was in my head asking to be written. I hope putting Harry and Ruth in this situation doesn't freak anyone out too much.

Of all times for the phones to be jammed, it had to be now. Just when Ruth needed to get through to Harry. She had to let him know the truth about Lucas, make sure he didn't do anything he'd regret. Being unable to locate the jamming device and disable it, the phones were useless and there was only one option. With a quick word to Tariq, who looked at her with concern, she grabbed her coat, and practically flew out the door.

Ruth pulled rank, using Harry's name to commandeer one of the pool cars and a driver. The threat of Sir Harry Pearce's displeasure whipped the driver into immediate action, and they were quickly weaving through the traffic, bound for the University of Greenwich. Harry was meeting there with one of the professors. He was also expecting a fraught encounter with Lucas.

In Greenwich, before the car came to a complete stop at the curb, Ruth had opened the door. Leaping from inside, she stood for a moment, head turning first to the left and then to the right. Her eyes came to rest on the gates to the grounds of the University, and she ran toward them and up the path to the forecourt of an enormous Baroque building.

Inside, she paused to ask for directions then continued on at a half-run. She worked her way through the building, conducting a hurried search of the first floor. Then, through a window, Ruth saw Harry pacing back and forth in a courtyard, clearly waiting for someone. She started running down the corridor, looking for an exit, anxious to reach him. Rounding a corner at full pelt, her shoes slid on the polished floor, causing her to slip just as she reached a staircase. Grabbing for the banister and regaining her balance, she continued at speed down the stairs, through the ground floor foyer and along another corridor. Reaching a pair of heavy wooden doors, she wrenched on the handle, one of the doors flying open. She raced outside and was hit by a blast of cold air.

"Harry!" Ruth shouted as she began descending the stairs in a hurry and out of breath.

Harry looked up, startled, and then moved toward her. "Ruth? What are you - "

"The phones … I couldn't get … through to you … I needed to … to ... tell you ..."

"Ruth, slow down. Take a breath, then start from the beginning." Harry's hand came to rest gently on Ruth's shoulder as she stood gasping. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal, and she began again.

"The phones were jammed."

"I was just speaking on my mobile a few minutes ago. It's working alright here."

"The signal was blocked. Again. And I needed to speak to you. I needed to tell you that it wasn't Lucas."

"It wasn't Lucas what?"

"It wasn't Lucas who masterminded the operation, or chose to take on a new identity. He wasn't given any choice. So he blocked it out. And ever since Vaughn reappeared, the memories have been returning. I think he's just been running scared, Harry."

Harry stared at Ruth intently, his mouth set firmly, eyes narrowed in a frown. "So if it wasn't Lucas, then Vaughn's been pulling the strings."

"Exactly."

"He's been the bloody puppet master all along."

"Yes. But what's he got to gain from creating all this chaos? He's ruined people's lives, and all for what?"

"I think we'll have a chance to find out soon enough. I'm expecting Lucas shortly, and if Vaughn's pulling strings, I don't imagine he'll be too far behind."

Ruth and Harry stood and waited in the courtyard where they were surrounded on three sides by the imposing columns of the campus buildings. The fourth side was open, with a path leading down to a lush green lawn where, usually, there would be students wandering around. But the semester had ended last week, and the students had escaped as soon as possible. Harry's attention was drawn to the path when he saw the flash of someone ducking behind the tall trees dotted along it.

Suddenly a shot rang out across the courtyard, and Harry flinched and ducked his head, turning toward Ruth who did the same. Then she raised her head, her eyes meeting his with a look of shock on her face. "Harry?" Ruth's voice sounded small and distant. Her mouth dropped open, and her knees gave way.

"Ruth?" Harry reached out, grasping her shoulders as she slumped to the ground. Ruth's hands moved to her side, but Harry grabbed at them, pulling them away. He felt the wet, sticky blood before he saw it.

"Shit." Harry pressed his one of his hands down firmly where the blood was quickly soaking through her blouse, causing Ruth to cry out. "Oh, shit ... Ruth ..."

Keeping his left hand on Ruth, trying to stem the flow of blood, Harry reached into his coat pocket with his right hand, and pulled out his mobile. With one hand, he punched in a number and barked at the person who answered, ordering immediate medical attention. Once he was satisfied that an ambulance was on its way, he ended the call and punched in another number, hoping it was no longer blocked. All he got was a dead signal. "Damn it!" Harry tried the number again, and then again. On the third go, it rang and was answered. Harry spoke to Tariq in staccato sentences, telling him what had happened and instructing him to call CO19 for help. Abruptly hanging up, Harry turned back to Ruth.

Lifting his hand, Harry pulled the edge of her blouse up to get a closer look at the wound. Blood was still escaping at a fast rate, bubbling out from a hole that was visible just below her ribcage. He grabbed Ruth's hand and pressed it down over the hole, and she whimpered with pain. "Harry?"

"I'm sorry. I know it hurts, but press as hard as you can. I'm just going to ..." He paused as he shrugged off his coat, and pulled the scarf from around his neck. "I need to move you, Ruth." Harry put his arm around her shoulders, sliding the scarf under her, and wincing as he saw the pain travel across her face. "I'm going to tie this around you. It'll put more pressure on the wound. It's going to hurt, Ruth ... I'm sorry."

Ruth nodded, her mouth suddenly dry. Harry positioned the scarf, then tightened it, securing it with a knot, and she cried out, closing her eyes. Harry wiped his hands on his shirt, bright red smears appearing across the pristine white, and he knelt motionless for a moment, breathing deeply.

Carefully, Harry lifted Ruth so that she was laying in his arms. Then he took his coat and draped it over her, like a blanket, to keep her warm. Ruth's face was pale and grey, the colour draining away as the blood streamed out of her. Harry swallowed audibly as he he cradled her in his arms, and moved his hand to add pressure to the scarf tourniquet.

"Harry … I'm sorry. So sorry." She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?"

"I … we should have talked … about what happened. Why I said no. Talked properly. I should have explained. Told you what I meant. That I love you. I do … Harry … I don't want to die, Harry."

"Ruth, you're not going to die. You - "

"I love you, Harry. And I should have said yes when you asked me to marry you. It was bad timing, but I should have said yes. I could have made it the right time. I was just … I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Scared that I would end up blaming you for something, or myself, and I'd ruin what we have together. And I don't think I deserve to be happy. Not with everything that's happened. Not after everything that we've done. And I was scared of this ..."

"Ruth, there's nothing … you deserve to be happy. Everyone is entitled to that. Whatever might have happened, don't you think we deserve some normality in our lives? Something to make up for all the wretched times? All the people we've lost, and the things in life that we've had to give up for this job? You're allowed to be happy, Ruth."

Her eyes were wide and glassy, and she closed them again, trying to stop the tide of tears that were starting to stream down her face. Harry lifted his hand, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. He was vaguely aware of a siren in the distance, a faint sound, but growing stronger.

"Ruth … You said there had been thousands of moments when you would have said yes if I'd asked you. I'm sorry that I didn't, Ruth. I wish I'd known, because there were thousands of moments when I wanted to ask you to marry me. Ever since you first set foot on the grid, you were like a breath of fresh air, Ruth. But I was too scared … that you'd say no … that I'd ruin what we had. I'm sorry that I didn't ask. And I'm sorry that I messed it up so badly after Ros' funeral. You were right. I was emotional, and I didn't say what I should have said. I should have told you that I love you. That I've loved you for so long." Harry stopped and swallowed, realising that his face was wet.

Ruth smiled at him. "Oh, Harry …" He gazed back at her, his eyes a deep, dark brown, and full of emotion. "Ask me again, Harry."

"Ask you again?"

"Yes. Ask me again."

"Ruth … I love you." Harry said in a low voice. He leaned his head down and kissed her, then pulled back so he could see her face clearly. "Marry me, Ruth?"

"Yes."

Harry smiled as he leaned down and kissed her again, their tears mingling, and he could feel her smile against his lips.

I did say wild speculation. The Spooks writers do love to end each series on a major cliffhanger, and Ruth has never really been the focus of one before, so I thought I'd give it a go.

I hope that it wasn't too over-the-top, or unbelievable. I know I didn't really explain why or where the shot came from, but I hope it didn't matter too much, because the details were kind of incidental to what happened after, and you can draw your own conclusions. I wanted to keep the focus on Ruth and Harry.

Thanks for reading.