Disclaimer: Just doing this for fun, as a distraction from my life, or lack thereof.
A/N: I still can't figure out in which season to place this story, any suggestions? Thanks so much to all the reviewers. I hope you like this installment and forgive my lack of updates...
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Logically he knew his luck would have to run out at some point. Sadly, logic had been drowned out by other nameless voices. This was now the third night, not counting Friday that he was kneeling in the dark in front of her bed, staring at Mac.
He came back from the weekend on the farm feeling refreshed and with new energy, thinking he was ready to face his life once again. Monday flew by filled with work, and though he had lunch with Mac and spent most of the day getting ready for a case they were trying, he didn't feel at all awkward or nervous, it was just their usual working relationship. A lot of professionalism, bits and pieces of good natured banter and a wealth of friendship serving as a backdrop.
He didn't even realize he was driving to her apartment at half past midnight until he was almost there. He didn't know why he was doing it. His mind kept telling him he was crazy and should stop before she woke up one night, slapped him across the face and kicked him out of her life for stalking her like he did. Then again, everyone always said he operated on emotions.
Moreover he couldn't stop himself from touching her. He limited himself to one touch per visit but that one touch was becoming more daring every time. First he traced her brow, then ran the back of his finger across her cheek. Tonight, the line of her jaw caught his attention and ever so slowly he followed it's line from ear to chin. The only reaction he got was a deeper breath and a slight upturn of lips in sleep.
He gave himself a few more minutes, inhaling deeply the smell of her, then quietly got up. After navigating his way to her in the dark for four nights, he could do it literally with his eyes closed.
He never saw it coming. The sound of his shin hitting an unidentified object was like a bomb going off to his ears. Biting his tongue to hold in the few curses that wanted to escape, he turned back to his sleeping beauty, expecting to find a gun in his face.
Mac stirred slightly but appeared to stay asleep. Very very slowly he let out his breath and tried to slow his heartbeat, which was pounding so loudly in his ears, he was surprised that that alone wasn't waking the building.
After a parting longing look, he carefully made his way out of her room.
Damn furniture.
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I wake up at 5 am sharp to my internal clock. Another wonderful night. Unexplainably I've been sleeping very well the past few days. I expected a week of sleepless nights after last Friday, and yes, the weekend was hell, but the last couple of nights I slept like a baby. Granted my dreams, or those I can remember, were filled with Harm. Last night at a moment of semi-consciousness I swear I could actually feel his presence in the room.
You're slowly loosing it, Mackenzie. Not long before the nice people in white robes come and take you to their nice hospital. Unbidden, a smile spreads on my face. Always knew he'd drive me crazy in the end.
Sighing, I throw the sheets aside and start my day. My eyes come to rest on the new nightstand I bought yesterday. It was an antique. Plain yet beautiful, and I just had to take it when I saw it at this new antique shop I found a block from my home. It's a bit larger than my old one but fits perfectly in the room. Frowning when I find it a little more to the side than I remember, I push it back in place. Well, I was pretty tired after carrying the damned thing up here.
After a run in the cool morning air, the hot shower is very welcoming. As I indulge myself to five minutes more under the water I can't help but think of him. This ignoring facts and events thing is actually working for us this time. It's been a long time since our relationship was so on track. We feel comfortable with each other again and it shows. I find myself hoping that nothing will screw it up and promising myself that nothing will if I can help it. I will not be held accountable for the next pothole. Nodding and sealing a silent pact with myself, I finally drag myself out of the steam with new resolve. Now if we could just get beyond going around potholes...
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I hear him clear his throat and hide a smile. I actually know he's been standing at my door for the last minute and 40 seconds but wanted to see how long he'd take before making his presence known, so I pretended to be completely engrossed in a paper I've long since finished reading. Twice.
Trying to look surprised I lift my head to meet his knowing look and half grin.
"Hey, Harm, what's up?"
"Nothing much, just thought I'd see if you needed any help." He steps into my office and I notice a slight limping.
"It's you that's going to need help, squid. Lieutenant Flannery is guilty as sin and I can prove it."
He snorts in disbelief.
"Anyways, what's with the limping? Trying to get on the court's good side by playing the sick puppy?"
He actually has a slightly startled look on his face before he quickly sets his control back up and folds himself into one of my guest chairs.
"The furniture attacked me." He pouts and I can't resist a chuckle.
"Good thing my new nightstand is an antique, then, it's too old to be any threat."
"You bought a new nightstand?" he seems oddly interested.
"Yeah, I saw it in this antique shop and just had to take it home, it's beautiful."
"I'm sure." He drums his fingers on his knees and I swear there's a grin playing on his lips. If he thinks he's going to make fun of my shopping habits and win that argument he's insane. I've already got my come back but suddenly he gets up and my brow rises with him.
"Well, I'll leave you to plan your lost cause of a mission." He says with that cocky smile of his. "You free for lunch after court?"
"Sure, you can buy and prove you're not a sore loser." I'm not about to let him have the last word.
Not even bothering to retort, he throws me one last look and is out the door. Did he just wink at me?
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Did I just wink at her? Oh man, this is getting to be harder than I thought. I've either got to stop making my nightly visits or get things out in the open. Yup, I can see that happening. After a nice romantic dinner, I take her hand in mine and say, 'ah, Mac, I've been visiting you at night and watching you sleep and I think I want you as more than a friend'. I bet that would go over wonderfully.
Just one more time. Tonight is the last night I'm doing this. It will be a goodbye of sorts, until I find a way to take the next step. Or she does, or someone makes it for us, whichever comes first.
Satisfied, I sit behind my desk and massage what's quickly becoming a vividly colored bruise on my leg. I knew something had changed in her room!
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Gazing at her closed eyelids, I can't help but feel some melancholy at this being the last night I'd be seeing her sleep like this. Despite the stalking air of it all, it just felt right to watch her, calming somehow. It gave me a clear mental picture of her soft, fragile side, for those times she was making it hard for me to be civil. I already ache to give her that one last touch I allowed myself, but I hold back a few seconds more, contemplating.
Ever so slowly I reach out for the final daring caress. My hand gently cups her jaw as my thumb rests on her bottom lip then traces it from end to end.
Her mouth opens and I feel her breath on my hand. I start withdrawing it, warning bells already going off inside my head, but realize I can't. Her hand has moved up my arm to intertwine it's fingers with mine. I can't breathe. Her eyes drift open and I'm hoping against hope that my mind's playing tricks on me again. I feel her squeeze my hand and all hope is gone.
Stupid, stupid stupid!
Mac releases a sigh and I'm still speechless. I'll either plead the fifth or claim sleepwalking. And sleepdriving... sleepstalking?
"I'm dreaming." She breathes and brings our joint hands to rest under her chin. I curse myself as I find I can't possibly lie. "No... you're not."
"Yes, I am." She says with such conviction I can't help but let out a quiet laugh.
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Another dream of Harm. This one feels so real, but I know it's a dream. I'm becoming aware of my surroundings and realize I'm in my bed and he's kneeling next to it. Usually in my dreams we're in his apartment but it really doesn't matter.
He's leaning on the mattress and his free hand reaches to stroke my forehead and hair. I'm feeling entirely too much, I've never felt this in a dream.
"You want me to prove it to you?" he's whispering, and my brow automatically rises.
"You do realize that if you try to pinch me you will find yourself on your six, on the floor, on the other side of the bed, with your arm at an odd angle, don't you?"
His laugh makes my eyes focus and my gut tie itself in a distinguished knot.
"Actually I was thinking of something softer..."
I'm finding it hard to breath normally as his head nears mine and then I feel his lips just touching mine. Suddenly the breath I've been holding spills out onto his mouth. His tongue is tracing my lip almost casually then he kisses me. It's a long, slow, breathtaking kiss that's untying my distinguished knot and spreading a wonderful wonderful warmth. My hand releases his in favor of cupping his face to mine. It's really him. He's really here. Finally we allow a few inches of space between us.
"You're really here." I find the words.
At his bewildered look, I really wish I hadn't.
"Mac, I-I.. I'm so sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I finally went over the edge. This'll never happen again, I promise."
Before I can stop him he's up and out the door.
I sit up and move to go after him in pure instinct, when I hear the door open and then close.
I gather my knees close and rest my head on them as the tears come. So close! Cheated once again out of my fairytale ending I can't help but cry. How I wish this really was a dream. Then again the term nightmare seems more fitting. How in the world am I going to ignore this?
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A/N2: Sorry! Has to be some bad to appreciate the good, ya know?