Who'd Have Thought

Disclaimer: All the usual legalese.

AN: Who'd have thought I would be posting another story...not me. I have the desire to write, to complete some WIP but I find it an incredibly difficult process with little creative flow happening. Anyway, one of my resolutions was to attempt to write more and this is the first result. Please note the word 'attempt'. It's not perfect, not up to previous standards but it's done, so I am sharing. Happy New Year to you all.

Dedication: Since I last posted here, we have lost two lovely people who were always encouraging of my works, both here and on the HBX - Harmy Board. So, Trevor (Byrthelm) and Kim (mkim) this is for you. xxx

Who'd Have Thought Part 1 of 2

No

Not at all

Never

Not a chance

Those were the four responses spinning through Harm's mind as he stood in front of the General's desk being briefed on his next assignment.

"Sir, yes, sir," was the response which was uttered as he came to attention.

Once again he was heading away in the name of duty and he was exhausted by it. Recent months had seen him in his own bed on no more than 15 nights. He had clocked up over 10,000 miles in travel and he was over it. The miserable, cold winter helped little either. He'd missed Christmas in DC and he'd missed Mac on New Year's.

"Anything else, Rabb?" Cresswell asked as Harm paused by the door.

"No, sir," he replied, knowing any other answer was unacceptable.

"Are you sure?" he asked, coming from behind his desk. "Looks like something is on your mind."

"No, sir," he repeated, turning to face him square on.

And another pause.

Then a sigh.

"Actually, General," Harm began and then, surprising himself, he continued talking. "I would like to request some time off … after this assignment. I have a lot of leave on the books and while I know I haven't followed correct procedure in requesting said leave, I feel that it's something I really need."

"What's going on, Rabb?" Cresswell asked, gesturing for him to take a seat in front of the desk. "I had to order you home after you took that hard knock last month and now you're voluntarily requesting leave."

Harm sat in the proffered chair and studied his shoes before looking up at his boss who was perched on the edge of the desk.

"Just feeling the toll of the last few months," he admitted honestly. "Seemingly endless jetlag, no real routine in sleep or diet…"

"Seven difficult back-to-back cases," Cresswell added as he removed the file he had just given Harm from his hands. "Not to mention all those frequent flyer miles," he added as he returned to sit in the leather chair behind his desk.

Dropping the file back onto the top of his desk, General Cresswell's eyes briefly scanned his wife's photo on his desk before looking at his senior officer once more. He pulled out his top drawer and picked up a set of keys.

"Look sharp," he said tossing the keys across the desk.

Catching the keys in his right hand, Harm looked at them and then his boss.

"You will report to the location on that tag for the next two weeks," he said, as he stood. "Civilian clothes only and warm winter casual at that. Everything else you need will be there upon your arrival."

"Sir?" he questioned. "What exactly is this about?"

Ignoring the question, General Cresswell, rounded his desk and moved to the door. "It's 98 miles, I expect you to arrive by lunch. Dismissed," he added opening the door.

Home, packed and on the road by 1000, Harm set his SatNav to the given address and wondered what on earth was in Barboursville, VA that required civilian clothes and so much ambiguity.

Arriving at the location, Harm found a long log cabin nestled in a wooded area and smiled. It was just the sort of place he would rent if he could ever find the time to escape the world for a while. For way too long there had been too many demands on him. Mental demands, physical demands, emotional demands. It seemed he had been caught in a vice and everyone and everything sought to extract every ounce of everything out of him; mind, body and soul.

Alas, it wasn't his escape, it was just another anonymous location duty had taken him. He had no sense of anticipation about what the two weeks would entail. No ingrained curiosity about this latest mission. He simply thought 'what next' as he parked the car, grabbed his bag and headed to the door.

Inside, the cabin was decorated immaculately and was rather more upmarket than its outer shell would indicate. There was a fire alight in the fireplace which provided immediate warmth and comfort. Scanning the living-cum-dining room-cum-kitchen, Harm noted a bowl of fresh fruit on the counter as well as an envelope.

Placing his bag down by an overstuffed and very appealing armchair, Harm headed to the counter and picked up the envelope, flipping it over in his hands. Seeing no writing, he pulled open the flap and withdrew the card it contained.

'Welcome,' it stated in flourished writing. 'I hope the cabin is presented to your liking. Everything in the cabin is yours to use and enjoy. If you require assistance in any matter, please don't hesitate to call.' There was a final salutation and phone number. While the note was polite enough, it wasn't the sort Harm was expecting to start a new mission.

Scanning the area again, Harm found nothing else so decided to investigate the rest of the cabin. Opening a door alongside the fireplace, he found a large bedroom with a king sized bed which shared said fireplace, as well as a small ensuite. Closing the door, he crossed the room and opened another near the front door and found it led to a small hallway. Off said hallway was a basic bathroom and another, smaller, bedroom beyond that. Returning to fetch his bag, Harm deposited it in the first bedroom and unpacked. Grabbing his charger and laptop, he set them up on the dining table and opened up to his emails. Perhaps Cresswell had emailed him the rest of the information he would need. There was nothing. Checking his phone, he found there were no messages there either.

While he was still debating what he should do in his current state of limbo, there was a knock on the door.

"Harmon Rabb?" said a woman of about 60. Her once brunette hair all but grey, laugh lines gracing her face. When Harm nodded, she continued. "My name is Mirabella, I just have some things for you." She gestured to the box and bags at her feet.

Harm helped her carry the items and placed them on the kitchen counters. "I'm sorry to interrupt your stay," she continued. "Usually everything's in place prior to a guest's arrival but Mr Gordon gave me very little notice."

"No need to apologise," Harm said, although he was none-the-wiser what he was doing in this place. "Does Mr Gordon have many people stay here?" he asked, hoping to garner some information.

"Occasionally," replied Mirabella. "But most times it's just himself and sometimes the family too, but not too often lately."

Over the course of the next ten minutes, Mirabella showed him the meals she had brought him for lunch and dinner and gave preparation instructions. She showed him where the breakfast provisions were kept and gave him a few pages constituting a lunch and dinner menu.

"I don't expect you to tell me now," she said, picking up the now empty bags and box once more. "But have a look and email me your requests. You can do it a day at a time or a few days. Most things will keep. Mr Gordon has always loved my cooking so I hope you do too. He told me you were vegetarian so if there is something I can prepare that's not there, please let me know. There are some lovely restaurants around but why leave this beautiful cabin."

"What does Mr Gordon do while he is here?" Harm asked, still trying to figure out why he was there.

"Oh, walking, occasionally fishing, sometimes he heads to the vineyards," she replied. "But resting, reading, watching the fire … sometimes with a whiskey and cigar. The man works too hard … doesn't need to do anything but rest when he's here."

"Sounds perfect," Harm said, almost wistfully. Two weeks of doing just that would be perfect for his weary body and soul.

"It does," she said with a wink. "And you'll be able to judge for yourself after your time here."

Carrying the box and bags out to Mirabella's car, Harm put them on the backseat as she climbed into the driver's seat. "I usually deliver about 11:00AM, if that's alright. I do have a key to let myself in if you're still asleep or out, if that's okay?"

"It's fine," he replied, "Thank you for everything, Mirabella."

Back in the cabin once more, Harm replayed the conversation with Mirabella over in his head. Everything she said seemed to suggest that his two weeks here would be something of a vacation. It seemed like Cresswell actually owned the place and, if that was the case, Harm couldn't see him using it as an operational base. His thoughts were confirmed with a brief phone call not ten minutes later.

"Please to hear you arrived on time," the General started without greeting. "I take it everything is in order and Mirabella has already been?"

"Yes, sir," Harm replied.

"Good, good," AJ replied. "Now, this two weeks …" Harm felt himself draw a breath. "No cases…no work. Eat well, sleep well, do some light exercise. I do realise the stressors you have faced recently. This is a time out to put that all behind you. Understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir," Harm replied, before adding "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. It is in my best interests to have you at the top of your game," he said gruffly. "Feel free to help yourself to everything that's there. If you're looking for some of the finer things in life, the code is 7861, when you find it."

With two weeks ahead of him, Harm decided to eat the delicious lunch Mirabella had brought him of zucchini, ricotta and pumpkin tarts with a quinoa salad with asparagus and feta before exploring the surrounds of the cabin.

The first thing that Harm noted as he ambled around the yard was the quiet. It wasn't silent, there were signs of life from all directions; birds, cars, the occasional dog, and yet it was a quiet cacophony. The second thing he noted was the air. It was damp and chilly, the same conditions he'd awoken to that morning and yet it seemed so much fresher. Smiling to himself, Harm could already feel some of the weight rise from him.

Inhaling deeply, Harm turned and went to investigate the large shed toward the end of the yard. Opening the door, he realised it was a work shed and flicked on the overhead light to get a better look at things. It was very neat and tidy with a place for everything and everything in its place. There were far more handheld tools than electrical ones and as Harm turned around he saw the shelves of wood. Lumber of various sizes and lengths were stacked neatly and the bottom shelf was devoted to tree limbs and stumps. He grinned; woodworking was something he'd tried on a few occasions and thoroughly enjoyed, now he had two whole weeks and his very own 'play room'.

For the next few hours Harm stood in the draughty shed and experimented with a lot of different tools and techniques. It was quickly apparent he had rather a lot to learn if his woodworking was to look like it was supposed to and not elementary school creations but he persisted until it became too cold and he retreated to the cabin.

Over the next few days, Harm spent hours in the shed and on Google researching 'How To' clips on YouTube. Initially, he had planned to make a stool for his breakfast bench but when the legs just wouldn't sit right, he sawed them in half and planned to make an end table for the small space next to his sofa. When it was finished and not up to his standard, he turned it over, added a few more pieces to its sides and called it a planter. Now all he needed was a plant for it.

Another feature of the first few days was the luxurious bed which kept him warm and cocooned and still asleep each morning when Mirabella would let herself in with the meals for the day. On the fourth day, Friday, Harm managed to find the small safe with the General's finer things hidden behind books on the bottom shelf off his bookcase.

So it was, later that evening, after a delicious meal of agnolotti lasagne, that Harm sat in front of the large open fire. Reclined with his feet resting on a small stool, Harm had a whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other and was enjoying every moment of the rare contented silence. It had been a very long time since he had been able to spend some quality downtime without being on medical leave after some injury or another.

Cradled in the warmth of the fire and warmed from within by the liquor, Harm dozed quietly in the overstuffed armchair. Just as he was about to drift off, he heard a car pull into the driveway as its headlights danced across the walls. Slowly, he pushed himself up from the chair and headed toward the front door. Believing it was Mirabella, he opened the door ready to help her with her next delivery and was surprised to find Mac approaching. He couldn't help but smile.

"Well, well, well," he said, stepping out into the chilled night air. "I certainly wasn't expecting you."

"I wasn't expecting to see you either," Mac replied as she stopped in front of him. "All Cresswell said was I looked like I needed some time off. I protested but he made it an order, gave me this address and said he thought I would be pleasantly surprised…and I am." She smiled broadly and Harm couldn't help but grin.

"Got any bags?" he asked, looking out to the darkness.

'Yeah, in the trunk," she replied. "Was going to investigate what this was all about before I committed to staying."

"Well, it's a beautiful cabin, big fire, wonderful company," he added with a wink.

"I'm sold," she said, returning to her car.

"Let me," he said, catching up in two strides, ignoring the fact that the wind was bitterly cold and he hadn't put on a jacket.

Once inside, Mac took her coat off and stood directly in front of the fireplace, rubbing her hands together before slowly rotating and allowing the wisps of heat to caress her whole body.

"Coffee or hot chocolate?" Harm asked, watching her intently.

"What are you having?" she asked as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

"Um...whiskey, actually," he said, nodding to the glass.

"And a cigar," she said, the evidence still lingering in the air. "Hot chocolate, please," she added before asking directions to the bathroom.

Upon her return, Mac found a steaming mug of hot chocolate and plate of oatmeal biscuits, waiting for her by the other armchair.

'Wonderful place the General has here," she said, dropping into the plush chair. "Did you know about it?"

"Nope," Harm replied, "Nice surprise to find he'd sent me here for two weeks of R&R. What did he say to you?" he asked, sitting down once more.

"Called me in, said I'd been working hard lately and while there was a relative lull it would be worth my while to consider some leave effective immediately. I thanked him and said it would be good but no idea where I would go at such short notice – hey, presto, here I am," Mac said as she cradled her drink in her hand.

"Disappointed to find you're sharing?" he asked quietly.

"Not at all, "she replied, smiling at him. "You? I mean you've been here a few days now there's an interloper."

"Interlope all you like," Harm said, smiling back. "It was nice having some solitude but I'm more than happy to share that solitude..."

"You know, once you share solitude it isn't sol…" Mac began but Harm nodded.

"You know what I mean," he replied picking up his glass.

An hour later, after some quiet chatting in the glow of the fire, Harm fell sound asleep in the armchair and Mac moved to clean up the remnants of their late supper. Moving around silently, she put another log on the fire before covering Harm with a blanket and heading off to the smaller bedroom she had seen earlier. The first thing she noted was just how cold the room was compared to the rest of the house. Backtracking, she opened the hallway door to the living room in hope that some warmth would drift her way, and soon.

After using the bathroom and changing for bed, Mac shuddered. Quickly she moved to see if there was an electric blanket or hot water bottle, alas all she found was another quilt. Taking it, she went back into the bedroom and stared at the bed, trying to will herself get in.

Muttering to herself, Mac decided the sofa would make a better option as the living room was already warm and another log on the fire would ensure it remained so until morning. Upon discovering Harm was still asleep in the armchair, Mac put the quilt she had brought out from her bedroom over him and figured there was a perfectly good bed empty on just the other side of the nearby door and she shouldn't let it go to waste.

It was nearly four before Harm awoke with a need for the bathroom. He smiled at the memory of the rather pleasant dream he'd just been having before going to stand and realising he had covers on him. Frowning, he couldn't recall getting a blanket, let alone a quilt as well. Shaking his head, he piled the covers on the armchair and headed to the ensuite.

Making his way from the bathroom back to the bed, Harm pulled back the covers and his smile returned. It seemed his rather pleasant dream was steeped in a lot of reality. Mac was curled up in fleecy pale blue pyjamas, her hair fallen across her face, a small smile on her lips. Covering her up once more, Harm decided the bed looked way too inviting to abandon it and so, he walked around and climbed in the other side.