Author: lisa
Subject: Miracles - February 2008 HBX Challenge

February 2008 HBX Challenge

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Paramount and DPB – unfortunately.

Pairing: Harm/Renee - I know, yuck! Please, no rotten tomatoes until after you’ve read it.

A/N: I didn’t really want to write this little scene, but when I tried to come up with an idea for the February challenge last month, this kept coming to mind – and nothing else. I didn’t want to write from Renee’s point of view. After all, I HATED the Harm/Renee relationship. When she was shown with Harm, I’d be tempted to squeeze my eyes shut and stick my fingers in my ears. However, I hate unfinished stories – even my own – so I finally completed it.


Miracles

I stretch languidly in the warm, wide bed. Love waking up lazily to hints of sunshine, the aroma of hazelnut coffee, the feel of strong arms encircling me. Unfortunately, as with most mornings, the latter is missing. Reaching beside me, the cool sheets tell me he’s been gone awhile - most likely on his morning run. He is so disciplined - it drives me nuts! I used to try to cajole him into skipping his runs once in awhile to stay in bed with me, but my powers of persuasion failed every time.

He’s invited me to run with him - after all, it’s only polite to invite the woman who shares your bed - but that’s not the way I like to work up a sweat. Besides, the offers always seemed half-hearted. It didn’t take me long to learn that his morning runs are one of the many areas of Harm’s life that he prefers to keep off limits - at least from me. He follows his routine religiously and I somehow feel as if my inclusion would be a sacrilege.

He shares with me his smile, his arms, his tenderness, his bed. But not his life, not his dreams, not his heart. Perhaps it’s foolish to continue to hope that someday I’ll break through those barriers, that he’ll come to the conclusion that he needs me and loves me as much as I love and need him. Call it denial, but I still pray for my miracle.

After dozing off, I’m awakened some time later by the muted noise of running water telling me he’s back from his run. I start to rise, to join him, hoping to pick up where we left off last night. However, the sound of Harm humming in the shower stops me, causing me to retreat back to the bed.

I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, it is Monday. I don’t need a calendar to tell me that, only the musical intonations coming from Harm’s shower. I recall a music appreciation class in college where the instructor forced us to learn the definition of music. "Music: the art of combining sounds or sequences of notes into harmonious patterns pleasing to the ear and satisfying to the emotions."

Why is it then if those sounds or notes - no matter how harmonious - are combined in a certain sequence, the result is neither pleasing nor satisfying? At least not to my emotions.

Every Monday is the same – as well as every Wednesday and Friday. And yet I’m convinced that he is completely unaware of what he hums those three mornings. When I oh so innocently asked him once what he was humming, I could tell he wasn’t even aware that he had been.

It took me a little while to figure out the pattern. He never hums in the shower on Tuesdays and Thursdays, only Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. And always the same damn Van Morrison tune. Tuesdays and Thursdays are five mile runs along the river. Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays are ten mile runs through Rock Creek Park. Tuesday and Thursday he runs alone. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday he meets up with his running partner - Mac.

When I learned that he ran with Mac three mornings a week, I threw a fit. Accusing Harm of an inappropriate - if not illicit - relationship with her. After all, she has Brumby. Why doesn’t she run with him? He claimed they’d been running together for years and there was no reason why they couldn’t continue, even if they were each with someone else.

I cornered Harm, asking him outright if he was involved with her. He was angry and annoyed. Yet with desperate hope, I clung to his adamant denial: "I am not involved with Mac." After all, if I know nothing else about Harm, I know that it’s not within his nature to lie.

If only I had learned to let sleeping dogs lie, perhaps I could have contented myself with the blissful acceptance that he was with me and not with Mac, but somehow I found myself compelled to counter his denial with another question. "Do you want to be?"

This time my hopes were dashed. Not by his answer, but by his deflection. He claimed they were just friends. That they fight like cats and dogs. But what he didn’t say gave me all the answer I needed – just not the one I wanted. His diversion might as well have been an admission of love. Harm wouldn’t lie, but his inability to deny spoke volumes of the truth hidden in his heart. He may not even realize it himself, but the connection between Mac and Harm is one that I’m afraid will never break.

That’s when I began to pray for a miracle.

But God helps those who help themselves, right? And so now I do everything I can to woo and to win Harm’s affections - and to keep him away from Sarah MacKenzie. Actually, I have Harm’s affections - just not his love. That has already been given to a woman who has no idea she’s received it, by a man who can’t admit, even to himself, that what he feels for his partner is love.

Yet I can see it, every time I see them together. What I wouldn’t give to have Harm look at me with the longing that flits across his face whenever he glances at Mac. Yet, I don’t blame him. I truly believe Harm is clueless to the fact that he is head over heels in love. It’s just not with me. I know that he cares for me. And, he’s never promised more than what we have right now.

I shouldn’t stay with a man who’ll never be able to give me his whole heart. I should just walk away, as the song says. I laugh at the irony of that.

However, it would take a stronger woman than I am to let go of the man who is everything I want. And so I sit, leaning against the headboard, clutching my tattered hope for a miracle as I clutch his pillow to my chest, listening to Harm unwittingly hum about a Brown Eyed Girl. I find myself mockingly singing along with his humming. "Sha la la la la la la la la la la la te da ... la te da"

Damn, I hate that song.

******

18 MONTHS LATER

I stretch languidly in our warm, wide bed. I love waking up lazily to hints of sunshine, the aroma of hazelnut coffee, the feel of strong arms encircling me. Unfortunately, the latter is missing. His kisses had awakened me earlier, but then he left without me while I dozed off again.

I smile at the pleasing sounds of humming coming from our shower. When I first recognized the tune he hums daily, it filled me with a secret delight.

Rising, I move to the bathroom, slipping into the shower to join him. His smile greets me. His eyes so filled with love as his arms pull me to him.

I return his smile and know the love I feel is reflected back to him. However, I can’t hide my disappointment as I tell him, "I wish I could go running with you."

Looking down at me, he shakes his head. "Sorry, baby, you know you can’t - she won’t let you."

I pout - something I never used to do. "I know I shouldn’t complain, but things are so different now. It seems silly, but I’m afraid she’ll come between us – between what we have now."

He laughs and pulls me closer. "Well, that can’t be helped. She has come between us. Literally."

He moves his hand from behind my back to rub my burgeoning belly that presses against him.

"But you know you wouldn’t have it any other way. And nothing will ever come between us, Mac. This baby will only increase our happiness."

He leans down kissing me tenderly, in a way that until a year ago, I’d never experienced before. I never knew such a simple kiss could express so much love.

Pulling back, he adds, "Besides, in a few of months we’ll be able to try out that new jogging stroller and the three of us can go running together."

"I know. It’s just what we’ve found together has been such a miracle, I guess I needed a reminder that as our life changes, that we won’t – that we won’t lose ‘us’."

"Never. I love you Mac. Nothing will ever come between us – especially this new, little miracle. And you know, I can't wait to have another brown-eyed girl to love."

I give him a look of mocked indignation. "I thought she is supposed to have your looks? Your looks and MY brains, remember? That was the deal, sailor."

His lips hover over mine once again as he whispers, "Change of plans. I want a little girl who looks just like you."

The End

Hey where did we go,
Days when the rains came
Down in the hollow,
Playin' a new game,
Laughing and a running hey, hey
Skippin’ and a jumpin’
In the misty morning fog with
Our hearts a thumpin' and you
My brown eyed girl,
You my brown eyed girl.

… Sha la la la la la la te da
You my brown eyed girl.