A/N: And now, a little blip in the life of Lydia Rabb, the incorrigible daughter of Harm and Mac a la Letters to Harm.

Vignette Two

Letters to Harm: Hurricane Lydia

Red. Red everywhere. Splattered on the walls, the sink. Dripping onto the floor, staining the towels. An entire wall painted in crimson…

Harm stared in horror at the carnage around him. What would he tell Mac? She was only on her second day of work and now she'd come home to this…

Utter destruction.

Their bathroom, destroyed. Their child covered in red…

Covered in red and grinning up at him with the sweet smile she'd gotten from her mother, the dimples in her cheeks, a gift from Harm's side of the family, making her look like a cherub.

A demon cherub.

"Hi, Daddy!"

"Lydia…what did you do…" Harm groaned.

"I painted it!"

"Painted what?" Harm asked unnecessarily with a sigh.

Lydia giggled. "The baf-room, Daddy! It's pwetty!"

"Pwetty? Really, Lydia?"

"I like wed. Do you like wed, Daddy? Mommy likes wed. She says it's her fave-wet!"

"Oh, it is…but I-I don't think she wanted her bathroom to be painted red, sweetie." Harm was still in shock over the sight of the now highly 'decorated' bathroom; he knew he should be scolding her, thinking up some punishment…but all he could think of was…Mac's going to kill me!

"Your mom is going to kill me," he groaned.

"Why, daddy?" Harm would have liked to say she was confused, but he had the feeling his daughter knew damn well why. Wait…

Harm checked his watch. Just enough time. He could go to the hardware store, find some matching paint, and paint over the crimson tide here before he had to pick up Tricia and Emily from school and Mac returned from work.

Harm sprung into action. "Ok, Lyds…we gotta clean you up and go to the paint store." He bent down to retrieve his daughter from the floor, grimacing when he his hands made contact with the still wet paint on her shirt.

"We're gonna look like a pair of serial killers, Lyds."

"See-wee-al ki-wers?"

"Yup. Killers."

"Ki-wers! Ki-wers! Ki-wers!"

"Oh, god, Lydia…stop saying that!"

"You said it, daddy," she giggled.

Harm could only roll his eyes as he set her on the bathroom counter and started to wipe at her little hands after he stripped her down to her underwear, the red lightening but also spreading. It took a while, but finally there was just a light pink stain left.

"There, Lyds…I think we've made you look less like a murder victim. Let's go get the twins ready and go, okay?"

"No!" Lydia pouted. "Just me and daddy! No Huntah and Hai-wee!"

"Honey, I can't leave two-year-olds alone." He lifted Lydia off the counter. "Wait for me here, Lyds." He looked down at her, his face stern. Lydia's face was back to sunshine again…along with a devilish glint in her eyes. "On second thought, come with me." He reached for her, but she dodged his hand and moved around him. Luckily, he still caught her around the waist before he carried her under his Harm to wake the twins from their nap.

"Okay, does that color look like the bathroom?" Harm asked Lydia as he pointed to a color swatch.

"No, Daddy."

"How 'bout this one?" Harm cringed. Why in hell was he asking advice from a four-year-old? He tried to ignore the twins crying in the shopping cart, angry to have been woken from their peaceful slumber.

"Daddy, that's not wed!"

"Lydia…the bathroom isn't supposed to be red…hey, how did you get that paint anyway?"

Lydia grinned and he found himself grinning back before he realized what he was doing. He schooled his features into a sterner expression. "Lydia? Where did you get the paint?"

"On the shelf," she answered, as if it were an obvious thing and he was just stupid.

"The shelf…" he murmured, thinking to himself. Then it hit him. "That shelf? What did you do, get the ladder from the garage?"

"No," she shook her head, her bearing proud. "I cwimbed!"

"But…no. No, I don't want to know. And why the hell did I have red paint in the house?!"

"For Emmy's dog houses. My pway-house. Twicia's twee house. Wed!"

"We like wed—uh, red, don't we…"

"Hell yes."

Harm closed his eyes. God, give me strength to deal with this hellion, he begged.

"Lydia…never mind…we're gonna get this one." He held up a paint sample and once the paint had been mixed, he wheeled his three youngest children, two of them still sniffling, to the checkout.

"Hello! Aren't you a bunch of cuties!" the cashier gushed, and Harm stood tall with pride.

"Hi!" crowed Lydia, never one to be shy. "Look!" Harm glanced down at his daughter, wondering why she was holding her pink-tinged hands up to the lady…Barbie, her nametag said.

"I'm a see-wee-al ki-wer!"

Oh, god…Harm, face as red as his bathroom, handed Barbie the money, and then slunk out of the store…while Lydia sang in her sweet little voice…

"Ki-wer! Ki-wer! Ki-wer!"

There was no way Harm was going to ever return to this store.

"Okay, Lyds, what do you think?"

Lydia sat on the toilet, scowling at her father. "I like wed. Not lel-low."

"It's not yellow. It's ivory seashell."

"Lel-low!"

Ugh. He had no idea why he insisted on arguing with a four-year-old. "Okay, Lyds. Yellow. And I like yellow. Your sisters like yellow. Your brother likes yellow. And your mom especially likes yellow!"

"I what, Harm?"

Harm jumped at the sound of his wife's voice. "Uh, yellow…you like yellow."

"Uh, I guess yellow is okay…but I prefer red."

"See, Daddy? Mommy likes wed! Paint it wed!"

"Paint it red…Harm, what happened here?"

Harm hung his head. So much for having this done before Mac came home.

"Well, Lydia…"

"Climbed up the shelves in your workroom, got the red paint, and decided to repaint the bathroom…that about cover it, Harm?"

"Yes…how did…oh, never mind…wait, why are you here?"

"I live here, sweetheart."

"I know that, Mac…I mean—"

"Don't you remember, Harm? I told you I was getting off early…the girls…"

"Oh my god, I forgot about the girls!" Harm frantically wiped his hands on a fancy hand towel they'd received as a wedding gift. The ugly fancy kind. "I'd better—"

"Hi, Daddy!" His oldest daughters came out from behind their mother, each holding a twin. Tricia of course had Hailey, and Emily was doing an admirable job holding onto the rather tall Hunter.

Harm slumped down onto the toilet and rubbed his hand over his face.

"Did you have a bad day, Harm?" Mac asked, laughter and sympathy in her voice.

"You don't know the half of it. Speaking of…" Harm had just realized that he was sitting on the toilet now, and not sitting on Lydia. "Do you know where—"

"LEEEEEEEP FWOGS!" Harm looked up just and time to see Lydia's bare butt zoom past, a white cloud of fabric behind her. There was a thump, a giggle, and then…

"LEEEEEEEEP FWOGS!" The naked Lydia zoomed down the hall in the opposite direction, and then there was another thump and a giggle. Harm shook his head in dismay but finally, he could only laugh. His third daughter was going to be the death of him, but she was entertaining.

"Oh, Mac…our daughter…" he shook his head again, the cloud of white passing by the bathroom door once more. "She's so—"

"Harm? Her parachute…isn't that my wedding dress?"

Oh, shit…

"Lydia Grace Rabb!" he shouted, and the chase was on.

End