AN: Heya! I know I said all my stuff is on hiatus, and most of it still is. But since I wrote this chappie a while ago, and it is the next one I had planned, I figured I should type it when the time came up. It's your lucky day since it's a three day weekend. So, off I go.
Spoiler: I think I already said it...if not, it's sometime before the Christmas eppie (Four percent solution.)
Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING! ::cries:: Must you remind me? ::sobs:: The song Killing Me Softly belongs to the talented Roberta Flack.
Mac POV
1658 Local
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown, Virginia
I sighed, closing the door with a loud slam and locking it right after. I hung up my cover neatly, then all but threw my briefcase on my coffee table, upsetting orderly stacks of magazines and remotes. I didn't even acknowledge the mess as I strode angrily to my bedroom, unbuttoning the jacket to my uniform on the way. By the time I rounded the corner of my bed, I'd kicked off both heels, expertly stepped out of my skirt, and was working on my panty hose. Clad in my underwear I put my feet in a pair of fuzzy slippers, swung on a light robe and stood in front of my mirror, reaching up to take out the bobby pins holding up my hair, letting the long dark locks spill around my shoulders in cascading waves. I tilted my head to one side, mussing my hair while regarding my tall form in the reflection. Sighing heavily I kicked a shirt out of my way before returning to my living room couch and flopping on it, an exasperated sigh escaping again. I twirled a brown strand of hair around my fingers uncharacteristically before letting my chocolate hues gaze around my house. The normally immaculate apartment was messy and unkempt, clothes and things everywhere. This past week had been stressful. No, scratch that. It had been pure hell, but unfortunately for me, it was only Thursday night, not another lonely Friday. I took only one more look around before grunting, getting up from my couch and starting the task of straightening my home. Stress was no excuse for letting it get this bad so quickly. I had finished all my mandatory paperwork and turned it into Coates this afternoon before coming home early (the first time in weeks), but when I finally checked my inner clock after tossing the last sock in the hamper I groaned. I got home about 1700, but it was now 2000. The 'amateur paleontologist' in me wasn't screaming to be indulged, but I still considered what to do over a box of leftover Chinese takeout. Curled up on my couch with some dumplings and rice I thought the matter over.
/Hmm...no, I really don't feel like getting that stuff all out again. I've only just put most of it all up. Besides, I don't want to get dusty and whatnot. I already feel grimy and dirty enough as it is. That's it! I'll go take a nice, relaxing, scented bubble bath. That should do me some good./ By the time I'd decided to go soak myself in therapeutic waters, my dinner was finished. Tossing the greasy remnants on the trash and wiping my mouth with a napkin, I walked to my bathroom and lit candles, poured extra sudsy bubbles under the running water and added some sweet lavender inscence to create a wonderfully soothing mood. I turned on the radio, found a smooth jazz station and left the bathroom to choose something from my bookshelves while the tub filled. Coming back into the steamy chamber I let my clothes fall to the tiled floor before slipping into the almost scalding water and stopping the flow with one turned nozzle. Yawning, I could feel the heat soaking into my skin and loosening tensed muscles before I had even settled down with my book. I smiled, content, as the soft music played in my ears and I lost myself in a fictional world where true love could be perfect and happy endings existed. Until a song that I vaguely recognized brought my nose out of the novel to have a proper listen.
Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
The words struck a chord in my heart and I was paralyzed, my thoughts instantly flicking to Harm.
I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style
And so I came to see him and listen for a while
And there he was this young boy a stranger to my eyes
/I was warned about Harm, before I met him; a young personification of tall, dark and handsome. No one said he'd turn out to be the way he is now: compassionate, loving, and irritatingly right most of the time. He's the reason I came home stressed today. The General has put my head to head with him for three of my five major cases, besides a crapload of work. I have to see him in and out of work constantly whether I want to or not./
Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
/He does all of those things to me. Or at least I feel like he does. I've heard him sing some original songs and play on his guitar before. Once I know I head my name...a lot. It did kill me, the tiniest bit, because it was a day - of many - that I belonged to another man - again, of many, and none of them have been him. He has no idea how much I regret that./ I'd let the paperback fall with a soft plop to the floor while I listened to the song that seemed tailor-made for me.
I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd
I felt he found my letters and read each one out loud
I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on
/I've felt feverish around him before, but not necessarily because of any crowd. Granted he likes to do things in public I blush at, but just giving me that beaming Flyboy smile can wash away my bad mood - at least temporarily - and make me weak in the knees. Harm doesn't even need to find letters. He's the one I've gone through everything with this past ... wow, almost a decade, and he knows almost everything there is to know about me. He could recite it from heart.../
Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
/I don't think anyone knows what he does. He could tell me whole life with his words./
He sang as if he knew me in all my dark despair
And then he looked right through me as if I wasn't there
But he just came to singing, singing clear and strong
/If he sang a song about me, it wouldn't be as if he knew me, he would know all my dark despair. Harm knows my worst secrets and has seen me at some of the lowest times, yet he still comes to me every time./
Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
All of this was getting to me - that there was some message to the song. I tried to get my head around it while the words continued to sink in and float, echoing in my bathroom.
He was strumming; oh he was singing my song
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
With his song...
As the radio DJ switched on and turned over to a new song, I slowly realized the water was rapidly chilling. I scrubbed myself all over and was sitting in front of my vanity brushing my damp hair sometime later. The music still lingered and I hummed, hearing the beautiful voice echo in my head. I was in my bed trying to sleep when I realized that the song was stuck. If I wanted to read into it, on some level, someone was saying: "Trust the one you know best. Love and be loved".
/It was the way it worked, but apparently we're an exception,/ I thought cynically, rolling over and fluffing my pillow for the fifth time. /I'll get there soon Harm, I promise. Hang on and wait just a little longer. Please./ This was whispered as a quick prayer to a higher power before I fell asleep.
AN: Nanodaa...POV's are hard! maidenpride of The Little Black Book, I commend ye! (For the billionth time ) ::bow:: ANYway, here's the second chappie. Please leave a review on your way out.