Disclaimer: Inspired having recently watched S9, E1, and this concept popped into my head. I won't be going canon from here, since this never happened. I own nothing of MI-5 and am borrowing some characters for a while for entertainment only. Thanks for reading.

Oddly enough, this piece has taken on a life of its own. I apparently am unable to imagine or adhere to an actual plot, with action and all that. But I love having these two explore each other, talk to each other, think about each other ...

Chapter 7

Saturday morning came quickly to two people who, though being really tired, and sleeping together for the first time, spent more hours than they expected to, cuddling, having pillow talk, discovering things about each other. They were simultaneously tired and refreshed.

No doubt about it, adrenaline kicks in and fills the void at least in the short term. They had eventually drifted into slumber, quite exhausted from the physical, mental and emotional tolls exacted from them over the past week.

Ruth opened her eyes to a wonderful sight: Harry's head on the pillow in front of her, and him still sound asleep. He looked so peaceful, his features completely relaxed. She too felt peaceful, if not fully rested. It felt natural to have him there. She sighed to herself: how fantastic would it be to wake up like this every day, knowing he was there next to her, where he belonged. Where they belonged.

They had spent a rather chaste, innocent night, for two people who had long wanted to be together. When faced with the plunge, they chose to take it slow and enjoy the evolution of their relationship. It was intoxicating, or at least Ruth thought so. It made her want Harry even more.

Actually, if she admitted it to herself, there were very few times that she didn't want Harry. As she lay there in bed next to him, she thought of all the reasons that she loved him.

He was Harry. He was a rock. He had integrity in a mad, political, dirty world. He was old fashioned in many ways. God, he was attractive. She loved the way his hair curled the instant it got a little longish. He always dressed so smartly. He was a survivor, in a business that consumed people too readily. Not many retired from their line of business, did they? He was flawed. It made him just slightly less intimidating, a bit more human.

She pondered on that for a moment. Why were they attracted to each other? Certainly he was older than her, and vastly more experienced. He'd been married, had children with whom he had mixed relationships, had had affairs which destroyed his marriage, although to be fair, the job itself had contributed significantly to the marriage's demise. He was powerful and he was gentle. He cared about her, his team, the country. Harry's instincts, and knowing how to use information to his advantage … he was legendary in security services around the world.

So she knew why she was attracted to him. "Why would he be attracted to her?" she wondered to herself. She wasn't his normal type, by any stretch of the imagination. He'd always gone for the most attractive, sophisticated women … and they'd been attracted to him. When he was younger, women were drawn to him. He was charming, good looking but approachable. Plus his voice was incredibly seductive. So again, why would he be attracted to her?

On balance, she was probably one of the smarter women he knew. She'd read classics at Oxford, she knew nine languages fluently, and several others on a more casual basis. She had access to more information than anyone, a fact which made her incredibly valuable in their day-to-day activities. She contributed to the nation's security on a reliable and regular basis. She was conversant in multiple topics – from classics to politics to today's events to events behind the scenes. She understood the urgency of what they did.

But was she evenly matched when it came to Harry? Was he more attractive than her on the unspoken, but acknowledged scale that people judge by? Or was she more attractive than him? She had very striking features, even if she wasn't a classical beauty. In fact, many people had remarked on her blue eyes – and they were quite good, even she had to admit. When she looked in the mirror, she didn't hate what she saw. True, she covered up a lot of her assets, but she dressed for comfort and well, her own personal style. Yes, that's what she had, her own style. She was comfortable with it … her longer skirts, her quirky necklaces, her fitted shirts and jackets, her boots. She didn't draw attention to herself. She preferred having the ability to fade into the background to observe the world around her without being noticed much. Was that a good thing or a bad thing where Harry was concerned.

And yet, there was no denying it. He was keenly interested with her and had been for a long time. Why?

At this point, he instinctively (so it seemed, since he was still asleep) moved closer and pulled her closer to him. He murmured some words … she couldn't quite make them out. But as she felt herself pulled closer, like being drawn toward a big magnet (for that's what Harry was to her, an irresistible force), she melted into him, wanting to feel his body closely held to hers. It was heavenly, waking up like this.

He started suddenly, waking instantly and instantly awake. The fact that she was in his arms, in the morning, finally registered with him, and he smiled as he kissed her forehead. "Good morning, beautiful," he said softly.

"Good morning yourself, Harry" Ruth replied. "I wondered how long you would continue sleeping. You look so incredibly peaceful."

"Been watching me long, have you?" Harry inquired, slowly waking up, but not relinquishing his hold on her. "Finding anything interesting here?"

"Harry, don't fish for compliments. It's beneath you," she informed him. "Besides, I'm guessing you probably know you're adorable in the privacy of the bedroom and comfort of the bed. You really are …"

"Why, thank you, Ms. Evershed. I believe that was a compliment, and I'm going to take what I can get," he said. "This restricted verbal diet of a line here, a line there, will keep me hungry for more." His words were softened by a string of kisses slowly given all around her face, her neck, her ears. He was irresistible.

"Oh Harry … I like waking up together. I don't know about you, but this is incredibly …" she lost the words, which made Harry all the happier. Ruth wasn't often left speechless. He was getting to her.

"Ok, while lying here is wonderful, I think we both agree, let's consider: should we get up and greet the day and do something, or are we lying in all day? I could be persuaded of the benefits of such a lack of activity, although I think we will have to find something to do if we stay here …" he said.

"While we probably deserve a lie-in, we should probably get moving. Fidg and Scarlet need to be fed, and you and I probably need to get our blood moving as well," Ruth admitted the practicalities. She pushed reluctantly away from the warmth of Harry's arms, and got out of bed. He stared. She looked amazing.

"Stop staring, Harry. You're making me feel like a piece of … something good to eat or something," she said.

"You're the analyst … if that's how I'm looking at you, perhaps that's what I'm contemplating. I can't think of a better meal, a tastier treat … anything I'd like more than breakfast in bed, so to speak …" Harry grinned as he said it.

"For the record, I want you too. I'm loving seeing this side of you. I hope to see more of it … and more of you," she admitted.

"You only have to ask, you know. I'm willing to show you whatever you want."

"Harry, for right now, let's go make some breakfast and take care of the 'kids'"

Ruth donned a robe over her nightshirt; Harry pulled on his pants and a shirt. They headed downstairs, made some tea, let the dog out, and fed the animals. It was all so incredibly domestic – and such a contrast from their day-to-day, high intensity work-life drama.