She sleeps fitfully at best, tossing and turning all night, plagued by strange dreams of Nico and George and Harry. When she wakes, for what seems like at least the tenth time that night, it's half past two in the morning. With a sigh, she gives up on the idea of sleep and gets out of bed, heading for the shower in the hope that it'll relax her. As she stands under the hot stream of water, recollections from her latest dream plague her mind, refusing to be pushed away. Harry standing a little way from her with a forlorn look on his face as he murmurs softly, "Sometimes you need to give a man a chance, Ruth." Nico playing ball with George, calling for her to join them, and the heartbroken look on Harry's face when she does. Then George turning towards her and saying, "Why are you choosing us, Ruth, when your heart belongs to him? Why did you give me a chance and not him?" Her dream self whispering, "Because I love him too much to lose him," and George holding her close and telling her, "Your love is not a curse, Ruth. It will not cause his death as it did not cause mine. It was just my time and soon it will be his. We all have just a little bit of time here. Use it well; give him the chance he deserves. Don't choose to live with more regrets. Choose to be happy with him for however long it lasts, like you did with me." The feeling of this great weight lifting off her shoulders at his words and the way it had come crashing back down on them when she'd turned to find him gone. Harry had gone. She'd spent ages looking for him, at work, at home, along the embankment... she'd looked everywhere that she could think of and she'd been unable to find him; it had been too late and the pain and despair had woken her.

She gets out of the shower, feeling determined to change things, for once to get things right before it's too late. Perhaps the dream is her subconscious telling her that what she wants and needs is Harry, perhaps it's an omen that she will lose him if she doesn't try, perhaps it's simply just a dream without any meaning. She doesn't know and she doesn't care. All she knows is that things can't go on like this and that she was stupid to refuse a life with him. So she dries her hair, brushes her teeth, gets dressed, applies a touch of make-up, and leaves the house, taking the car and driving over to his place.

The doorbell wakes him and he's immediately on alert, picking up his phone and checking the time. Three in the morning; who could be calling at this time? He checks for messages to see if he's missed any urgent calls, but there's nothing. So getting out of bed, he throws on his dressing gown and pads downstairs to the front door in his bare feet. He peers through the peep hole and is astonished to see who's standing there. Quickly he disables the alarm before glancing down self-consciously to make sure his robe is covering him adequately, wishing he'd pulled on some underwear at the very least before coming downstairs, then swiftly pushing his worries aside and opening the door.

"Ruth!" he says in surprise. "What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"

She doesn't reply, just steps past him into the house, not even waiting for him to invite her in before moving into the hall as he closes and locks the door behind her. "Ruth," he murmurs as he flicks on the hall light and quickly resets the alarm out of habit. "What are you doing here?" he repeats anxiously, wondering why she's here at this time of night, and knowing that, whatever it is, it can't be good. She seems a little different, a little nervous but at the same time excited, full of adrenaline.

"Are you alone, Harry?" she asks anxiously.

"Yes, of course I'm alone," he replies impatiently. "It's three in the morning, Ruth. Who would..." he tails off as he realises what she's asking. "Why?" he asks cautiously. "What's wrong? Are you in trouble?"

"Not really," she replies, fiddling with the strap of her handbag and looking down at her feet.

"Then what is it?" he murmurs, genuinely puzzled now. "Is it work? There were no messages on my-"

"No," she shakes her head and lifts her eyes to his once more, "it's not work."

He pauses and observes her carefully, taking in the thick, wool coat she's wearing, the silk, blue scarf that's wrapped around her neck and the ankle boots covering her feet. He's surprised to find that he can see her calves above the top of her boots and he realises with a jolt that she must be wearing something other than her customary long skirt or trousers under her coat, something shorter than he's ever seen her in. He feels his body begin to respond to the images that fill his mind, his breathing becoming shallower and his heart rate shooting up. He swallows and looks back up at her eyes, murmuring in a slightly husky voice, "So... if you're not in trouble and it's not work, that would make this... a late night tête-à-tête?"

"Something like that," she smiles and pulls the silk scarf from around her neck, revealing the creamy skin of her neck and upper chest. She leans to the side and drapes it and her handbag over the banister before bringing her hands back to unbutton her coat. The movement's surprisingly erotic and he feels desire stir in his belly and a shiver run down his spine.

"Ruth," he says, his voice involuntarily dropping several registers. "This isn't a..." He tails off as she pulls the coat open and slips it off her shoulders. She's clad only in matching black, lace underwear, and he thinks he might have forgotten how to breathe as he watches her drape the coat over the banister next to her scarf. Then she turns a little so her back is towards him and grabs hold of the banister for balance as she places one foot on the second step and bends over to unzip her boot. He thinks he must be dreaming; either that, or he's died and has discovered that heaven really does exist. She's wearing a thong and he can see almost everything as she bends over to remove her boots. She's beautiful, her pubic hair dark and lush, her lips a deep wine colour, swollen and wet with arousal, her bottom soft and inviting, and all he wants to do is bury himself inside her. In fact, he takes a step towards her before he even realises he's moving and only just manages to stop himself from reaching for her bum and squeezing it with his hands.

She stands then, and without a word or look in his direction, begins to mount the stairs. She's already at the top before he recovers enough to follow her, taking two steps at a time as she disappears into his bedroom. He steps into the darkened room, but he can't see her, and for a moment, he really believes that he's imagined the whole thing. But then she steps out from behind the wardrobe and presses her hands against his chest, pushing him backwards until his back connects with the wall. In the light from the hall, he can make out her sparkling eyes that are alight with mischief and desire as they gaze up at him while her hands run down the front of his body, stopping to undo the tie of his robe and pulling the material aside as they glide firmly back up his naked chest. His own hands hang loosely by his sides and he seems to have forgotten that they exist, so overcome is he by all that is happening. Never in his life has he been so passive in any sexual encounter, so unable to take charge, but a part of him still believes that this is a dream and he's scared that, if he touches her, she'll disappear like smoke.

She pushes the robe off his shoulders and it slips to the floor as she leans in to kiss his chest, trailing her tongue and teeth over it as she moves down, licking and nipping each of his nipples in turn as her hands reach lower, softly caressing his abdomen and inner thighs, teasing him mercilessly as he groans with want. Before long, she's kneeling before him, her tongue running sensually over his balls, taking one and then the other into her mouth and sucking on them gently as one hand wraps round his erection, massaging him so perfectly that he almost comes right away. He manages to hold back, his hands finally rising from his sides to cradle her head as she runs her tongue up his shaft and softly sucks on his head, pushing back his foreskin with her lips and running her tongue around his corona once before rubbing it against his frenulum as she sucks on his cock and he can't hold back any more. He comes with a loud groan, pressing his hips forward as he holds her head steady with his hands, feeling the soft silk of her hair as he ejaculates onto her mouth and shudders at the sensation, the feeling of total bliss that comes over him.

This is the point when he usually wakes up, when the phantom Ruth disappears into the world of dreams from whence she came. But as he leans his head back against the wall, he can still feel her gently sucking on his penis, milking the last of his semen from it before her fingers gently pull his foreskin down and her hands glide up his legs to his waist. He opens his eyes and sees her standing before him, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at his face, her eyes shining with love. "Ruth," he whispers softly, and for the first time since he'd let her in downstairs, he begins to believe that this might be real, that it's not a dream. "Are you really here, Ruth? Or are you just another figment of my imagination?"

She laughs in surprise and asks with a mischievous grin, "Do the figments of your imagination often come over in their sexy underwear to give you head in the middle of the night, Harry?"

"Only the Ruth shaped ones," he smiles, reaching his hands up to cup her face, "and not nearly as often as I'd like them to."

"And how often would that be?" she smiles.

"Every night, Ruth, every night. I want you here with me every night," he murmurs and kisses her, pressing his lips against hers for the first time in several years, not counting the passionate kisses they've shared in his dreams. Of course, he still might be dreaming. None of this seems real, but even if it's not, it's the best bloody dream he's ever had and he's going to enjoy it to the fullest.

She's moaning softly as they kiss deeply, passionately, as if there's no tomorrow. His right hand makes quick work of her bra clasp and soon her breasts are bare and he's feasting on them, sucking and licking her nipples as he turns and presses her up against the wall, one of his arms wrapped round her waist to support her, his right hand toying delicately with her sex. She's so hot and sexy, moaning his name and pulling his head down towards her chest as he pleasures her, dipping his fingers into her core and rubbing them against her clit, building a rhythm that has her panting and groaning within minutes. She breaks soon after with an intense cry of pleasure, easily the loudest sound he's ever heard her make and the most beautiful. She slumps forward against his chest, her legs almost giving out from under her, the intensity of her orgasm turning them to jelly, and he can't help feeling smug at being the one to give her such pleasure.

He half supports, half carries her over to his bed, pulling back the covers with one hand and helping her in before slipping into bed beside her and spooning himself around her as she moans softly in pleasure and drifts off to sleep. "I love you," he whispers against her shoulder and presses a soft kiss against her skin before contentedly closing his eyes and letting himself join her in the world of dreams.

She wakes up a little disoriented, unsure of where she is for a split second before she remembers. She's lying on her stomach, her head on a pillow that smells so delightfully of Harry, facing the window. Daylight is filtering through the thick curtain, allowing her to explore his bedroom with her eyes for the first time though her attention isn't really on the simple, straightforward, functional, and very masculine décor, but rather on his deep, even breathing as she tries to gauge his state of wakefulness. Deciding that he's still asleep, she turns her head to face him, letting her eyes roam over his beloved face, now more relaxed than she's ever seen it. To her mind, he's gorgeous and she can't help being moved at the sight of him finally lying beside her, sleeping. She blinks back the tears as she drinks him in, taking in every tiny, little detail, storing it away in her memory, never wanting to forget this precious moment.

After several moments of quietly exploring his features, she lets her gaze roam lower, dropping from his face to his shoulders. He's lying on his stomach, his face turned towards her, but the covers have slipped half-way down his back and she can see his strong, broad shoulders and thick biceps as well as his right hand that's resting on her pillow near her head. There is a thin white scar running down from his shoulder to the back of his arm that looks as if it was a result of a rather nasty wound. She wonders how he got it, whether it was something he received in the line of duty, or if it was just a result of an accident. Her gaze slips down to his forearm that's covered in fine blond hair, and then his hand, lying palm down beside her. She's always admired Harry's hands for their strength and their beauty, and often wondered what they'd feel like against her skin. Now she knows and she can't wait to experience the pleasure they can give so easily again. She feels the first tingling of desire at the thought. Perhaps when he wakes up, they can make love properly this time, she thinks with a smile. As exciting as last night was and as amazingly powerful as her orgasm had been, she desperately wants to feel him insider her, to experience the exquisite pleasure of joining their bodies, of him nestling into her folds, and of them climaxing together, surrounded by each other's love. It isn't long before she finds herself willing him to wake with increasing impatience until, eventually, she realises she's going to have to get up, or she won't be able to stop herself from waking him. He looks so peaceful that she doesn't have the heart to disturb him, especially since she knows that he needs his rest with all the extra time he puts in at work. So she slips out of bed, grabbing his discarded bathrobe from the floor beside the door and sliding it on, delighting in being surrounded by his scent as she leaves the room and goes to the bathroom to pee and attempt to brush her teeth without a toothbrush. Luckily, Harry has some mouthwash, so she opts for using that instead.

When she steps back into the room, she can tell that he's awake. He's lying on his back, his arm draped across his face, covering his eyes, and she hears him sigh, a sigh that seems to come from the very bottom of his soul. It makes her heart ache to hear it and she knows he must believe that he was dreaming last night. Without making a sound by following the exact same path she'd used to exit the room, remembering that she hadn't encountered any squeaky floorboards, she slides off his robe, letting it fall to the floor with a quiet whoosh, slips into bed beside him and climbs swiftly on top of him. He gasps in surprise, the arm covering his face swiftly falling to the side so he can look at her. She smiles down at him, delighting in the feel of him against her, her sex, stomach and thighs pressed snugly against his. "Ruth," he whispers as she watches his face light up with joy, "you're still here! I thought I'd dreamt the whole thing up... God, I've never been so pleased to see anyone in my life."

"Good morning," she smiles. "I've been waiting for you to wake up." Then she leans down and kisses him, rubbing her folds against his rapidly hardening erection and making him groan in pleasure.

"Wait," he murmurs a few moments later when they come up for air. She pulls away in surprise, and as she watches him close his eyes and take several deep breaths, the self-doubt begins to creep in and she begins to worry that she's misread the situation quite badly. She slides off him and lies down beside him, wanting to escape, but feeling far too embarrassed to walk through his bedroom naked. "No, don't go," he exclaims in alarm, turning swiftly to face her as he opens his eyes and grasps her hand in his. "Please, stay." He looks so vulnerable all of a sudden that it makes her heart melt and her doubts disappear.

"I'll stay if you want me to," she reassures him, lifting her other hand to caress his cheek that is rough with this morning's beard growth.

"I do," he smiles. "I've never wanted anything more in my life. I just..." he hesitates for a moment and then rolls onto his back, still keeping her hand clasped in his as he pulls it onto his chest and looks up at the ceiling, murmuring, "Last night... I thought I was dreaming. The whole thing, you turning up here dressed in nothing but the sexiest underwear I've ever seen... it was... it felt like a dream and I didn't get the chance to... I was so selfish," he pauses, sounding disgusted with himself, and then continues, "so this morning... now, I want to do it properly. I want to make love to you like I've always planned I would if you ever gave me the chance." He turns to look at her and asks, "Do you understand?"

"Yes," she smiles. "Last night I was fulfilling one of my fantasies, and this morning, you want to be in charge and fulfil one of yours."

"Precisely," he nods. He hesitates for a moment and then asks tentatively, "Last night... what happened... was it really one of your fantasies about... me?"

"Yes," she confesses, looking away as she suddenly feels embarrassed at revealing so much. But she forces herself to continue, adding, "Before, when I was scared of this, of us, I used to think about coming round to seduce you in nothing but my sexiest underwear... I never thought I'd actually do it... I still can't quite believe that I have."

She glances up at his face and finds him grinning at her like a Cheshire cat. "Can I just say that it was possibly the most brilliant idea you've ever had, Ruth, and that I am so very glad you decided to make it a reality? It was by far the best thing that has ever happened to me at three in the morning... or at any other time of day or night for that matter."

"Well," she smiles as she looks up at him through her eyelashes, "I've never done anything like it before. I was really quite... nervous, but you were almost half asleep and it helped a little to ease my anxiety. I kept telling myself that, if it all went terribly wrong, I could just leave and you'd probably think you'd been dreaming... I hope it wasn't... I didn't do anything... wrong."

"You could never do anything wrong, Ruth," he murmurs, his voice deep and sensual. "It was... heavenly... from start to finish. I've never enjoyed any woman pleasuring me like that more... but I feel... ashamed. I shouldn't-"

"Don't," she objects, pressing her fingertips against his lips to silence him. "I enjoyed every part of it. Really enjoyed it," she adds when she sees him look doubtful. "Besides, I quite like that we're both fully awake and rested for our first proper time together."

He smiles and presses his lips softly against hers before pulling back and saying, "I just need to... nip to the loo. Please, don't go anywhere."

"I won't," she assures him as he gets up, and slipping into his bath robe that she'd discarded by the foot of the bed, he leaves the room, pausing in the doorway to look at her before making his way to the bathroom. She sighs and leans back against the pillows, feeling her body relax in contentment as it simultaneously hums with anticipation. It's something she's never experienced before. In fact, ever since she'd decided to come over last night and seduce Harry, everything has been beyond her wildest dreams. Being with him, loving him, his orgasm, her climax, sleeping in his bed, waking up next to him, kissing him, everything has been spectacular, the sheer pleasure magnified to such proportions as to leave her dazed and make her wonder why she'd waited so long.

She's still thinking about this when he reappears in the doorway and swiftly makes his way back to bed, sliding in beside her and pulling her close, pressing his lips to hers softly. She lifts her hand to cup his freshly shaved cheek and smiles as he looks into her eyes and whispers, "I love you, Ruth."

"I know," she sighs. "I love you too. I'm so sorry-"

But he silences her with a kiss, murmuring against her lips, "Not now. There's nothing to be sorry about now. We're together and we're going to make love. There's nothing to be sorry about."

"Yes," she hums and lets herself go, emptying her mind of everything but Harry and the wonderful feelings and sensations inside her. And it is wonderful and tender, the way he explores her, touching her gently, adoringly, slowly becoming intimately acquainted with her body and what gives her pleasure.

"You have the most beautiful breasts," he murmurs against her skin in between kisses and caresses that have her panting with desire as the pressure builds inside her.

"Please, Harry," she begs as his fingers skim across her thighs, moving sensually over her skin, approaching her tender heat and then slipping away again. "Please."

"Patience, my love," he murmurs, his voice vibrating through her as he rests his chest against hers once more and then presses his lips against hers. Her hands are tangled in his hair and she pulls him towards her, opening her lips below his and boldly seeking out his tongue with her own. She slips her left hand down to grab his right buttock, pulling him against her and feeling his hardness slide along her right thigh and hip. He groans into her mouth at the sensation, but as she tries to bring her hand round to the front and slip it between them to touch him, he pulls out of the kiss and grasps her hand in his own, murmuring huskily, "Not yet, not yet."

"But I want to touch you too; I want to give you pleasure," she complains as he leans over her, pushing her hand up above her head as his mouth closes over her left nipple once more.

She moans at the sensation and hears him say, "My turn first," his warm breath caressing her nipple that is still wet from his mouth and making her shiver. He releases her hand then and trails his fingers down her body until they reach her thighs once more. He skims along the outside from her hip to her knee and then slides along to the inside of her leg.

She moans and parts her legs as his fingers glide up along her skin, slowing down as they approach her wetness and she lifts her hips towards his touch. "Please, Harry," she says again and this time he obliges, letting his fingertips skim over her folds several times before he slips two fingers inside her as he sucks on her nipple and she comes with a loud cry, feeling her whole body convulse and tingle in ecstasy.

"God, Harry," she sighs once she can breathe again, and she opens her eyes to find him watching her.

"You're beautiful," he smiles, his eyes radiating love and desire.

"My turn now," she replies and reaches for him, pulling his head towards her to kiss his lips as she rolls onto her side to face him. She trails kisses along his jaw to his neck and chest, licking and sucking on his skin, toying with his nipples and hearing him groan in pleasure. She slips her hand down between them, grasping him gently and running her thumb along his length while she rubs her tongue against his nipples, making him gasp. He rolls on top of her then, parting her legs and moving between them as he slips two fingers inside her to make sure she's ready and looks up at her face. She moans in pleasure and murmurs, "I'm ready, Harry. Take me. Make me yours."

So he slides his fingers out and positions himself at her entrance before leaning over her and kissing her lips softly. "I love you," he murmurs, pulling back and gazing at her with eyes overflowing with love and devotion. She sighs and pulls him towards her with her heels on his buttocks as she lifts her pelvis to meet him, feeling him glide into her slowly, stretching her just perfectly. "Ruth," he murmurs, "my Ruth," and she can see tears in his eyes as he gazes at her and finally makes her his.

"I love you, Harry," she whispers, lifting her hands to his face and gently cupping his cheeks, wiping away the tears from the corner of his eyes as he stills inside her.

"I can't believe this is happening, Ruth," he murmurs.

"It's happening; it's real, Harry," she replies. "I'm yours... always and forever yours. I always have been." She sees him swallow hard and knows he's overwhelmed by emotion, so she begins to move her pelvis causing him to gently slip in and out of her a few times, bringing his attention back to the physical part of their coupling.

He sighs heavily and kisses her as he joins her in the rhythm she's set, pulling more fully out of her before plunging in again. It's slow and gentle and exquisite, this feeling of their bodies moving together in prefect harmony and again she finds herself wondering why she waited so long. This is all she's ever wanted, all she's dreamt of for years, all she's imagined every time she's climaxed, whether on her own or with another man inside her. How could she have been so stupid?

Soon they have to break apart for air as their need for oxygen and more stimulation becomes overwhelming. He lifts himself onto his hands, his eyes never leaving hers as he presses into her harder and faster, pushing her nearer and nearer to the edge. She tries to keep her eyes open, but his gaze is so intense and the sensations inside her so overwhelming that she can't. He feels so good inside her that it doesn't take long for her to reach her peak and tumble over, digging her nails into his shoulders as her muscles spasm and she cries out his name. She feels him slow his rhythm as she comes down from her high, and when he stops moving altogether, she opens her eyes to find him watching her tenderly, his gaze so full of love and lust. It used to scare her to see it, the intensity of his feelings for her, but not any more. Now it makes her feel wonderful and cherished beyond belief. She wonders if her own eyes are as expressive as his in this moment. She hopes so. She hopes he can see how much she loves him, how much he means to her, how grateful she is that he has waited so patiently for her, not just over the last six years, but also just now, waiting for her to climax twice already before his own release. No one's ever done that for her before.

When he begins to move again, she moans as he glides inside her, her over-sensitive flesh sparking with every thrust and she can already feel another orgasm building inside her. All thought has left her head now and she can only feel, the sensations and emotions overwhelming her mind completely. She whispers his name over and over again and her eyes drift closed with each one of his thrusts that are getting faster and deeper again, and this time, when she comes, she almost screams, such is the intensity of her orgasm. He doesn't slow this time and she rides the wave of her pleasure for a long time as he propels himself towards his own completion. She can hear his breathing coming in gasps now and she knows he's almost there, so she forces her eyes open, wanting to see his face as he tumbles over, and as he thrust into her hard and stills his motion for a few seconds, his face scrunches up into the most beautiful expression she's ever seen him wear. His brow wrinkles with concentration, his eyes squeeze shut and his lips purse together in a gorgeous pout for a second before his mouth opens and he releases a deep guttural groan of pleasure, his face relaxing before he drops his chin to his chest. He gently moves inside her a few more times before he stills and opens his eyes to look at her. "I love you," he murmurs, lowering himself onto his forearms so he can kiss her lips before rolling them both onto their sides with a sigh of heartfelt contentment.

He holds her in his arms, stroking her soft, chestnut hair as she lies with her head on his shoulder, running her fingers across his chest and stomach. Oddly, he's feeling rather self-conscious, a rare experience for him. He's always felt very comfortable in his own skin, but it's been years since he's been in what would be considered good shape, and having the woman of his dreams in bed with him is making him wish that he'd tried harder in the last few years to stay fit.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks.

"I was wishing I was younger," he murmurs, trying to be honest.

He can feel her smile against his chest and he hears her reply, "I don't. Wish you were younger, that is. By all accounts, you were a philandering, arrogant prick. I much prefer the man you are now."

"Ah, but physically," he chuckles softly, "I leave a lot to be desired."

"Trust me," she murmurs softly, "you don't. All the important bits of you work just fine and I quite like that you're soft and cuddly."

"Soft and cuddly are hardly qualities that a man should aspire to, Ruth," he grumbles.

"Well," she smiles as she twists her neck to look up at him, "if it really bothers you, you can always try to change it."

"I fear it might be too late for that," he replies sadly.

"Then I suggest that you just accept that I find you devastatingly sexy and let me enjoy your assets," she smiles as she raises herself a little higher, approaching his face with her own before whispering softly with a twinkle in her eyes, "whether because they're hard or soft."

He grins, and sliding his hands into her hair, pulls her towards him, pressing her lips onto his own and kissing her soundly.

Thanks to NatesDate for being my beta and to all of you for reading. Please leave a review. Cheers, S.C.