Shampooing For Beginners

 

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything – if I did, where would I keep them, I live in a one-room apartment? (hm, in bed with me, now there’s a thought…) Just borrowing them…

 

AN: This is the first story I’ve ever written. Just a piece of fluff, H&M all the way. Not set at any particular point in the show, although in my imagination it is season 7, somewhere after the cute flirting of the Christmas episode (oh, and it’s at least springtime).

 

o o o o o o

 

Shampooing for Beginners

 

“What is it with us and the ending-up-at-a-hospital?” Mac asked when she came out of the examination room. Her right arm was now set in a cast that reached from her fingers all the way up to the middle of her upper arm, with the elbow bent in a 90 degree angle. A sling around her neck secured the cast in its place in front of her body. From his position in one of the waiting room chairs, he looked up at her, his gaze somewhat concerned, yet at the same time mocking her.

 

“So it’s broken, huh? See, did I not tell you to be more careful when you play baseball with boys?”

 

“Well it wouldn’t have happened if a certain flyboy had not tackled me at third base and thrown his entire 6’4 frame on it!” she countered. “Unfairly so, if I might add, since I had already caught the ball before you reached the base!”

 

“You so did not!”

 

“Did too!”

 

“No-ot!” At this, they both had to grin at each other. Sometimes it was great fun to act like children.

 

Mac was the first to break the eye contact, her sweet smile slowly faltering to be replaced by a pensive expression.

 

“Well, my life is certainly going to be fun for the next six weeks or so. I mean, how am I going to get any work done with this? Or do anything else, for that matter?” she wondered aloud. At this, Harm had gotten up. He grabbed his and her things from the chair next to his and stepped closer to her. His right arm came around her, found its place at the small of her back and gave it a reassuring pat.

 

“It’ll all work out somehow, don’t worry. Now, let’s just get you home, ok?” At that she nodded, and the two of them started making their way towards the exit, his hand remaining on her back.

 

“Harm?” Mac turned her head slightly to look up at him. “Could you do me a favor?”

 

“Sure, what is it?”

 

“Next time, throw yourself on my left arm!” she requested with a grin.

 

“Well, what good would that do? The ball was in your right hand!”

 

o o o o o

 

Back at her apartment, he had ordered dinner and set the table, while she went to her bedroom to change. Quite a struggle that was, her first glimpse of what she’d have to go through every day now. ‘Oh gosh,’ she inwardly groaned, ‘what about taking a shower, or washing my hair?’ Promptly, she felt her head starting to itch, what with all the sand and dirt in it from the game and from having landed on the ground. When their dinner had arrived, she made her way back into her living room, and, feeling rather Scarlett O’Hara-ish, she decided ‘I can’t think about that now. I’ll think about it tomorrow.’

 

Harm had ordered Chinese, explaining, with his flyboy grin in place, that their sesame chicken was already served in bite-size pieces, so he wouldn’t have to cut her meat! It was a pleasant meal, their conversation flowing easily, touching upon their friends, work, past shared experiences. After dinner they moved over to the couch. She settled down on its right end so she could place her cast on the armrest and brought her legs up.

 

He couldn’t help but notice that, just as she had during dinner, she was constantly scratching her head. The first time she had almost knocked herself in the head with her cast, because she subconsciously tried using her right hand, having momentarily forgotten that it was fixated. So now she just used her left, every so often bringing it up to another section of her hair.

 

“What’s with your head?” he questioned.

 

She was briefly taken aback, having no idea what he was suddenly talking about, until she realized that her left hand was absent-mindedly scraping the skin behind her ear.

 

“Oh, my head’s just a little itchy, from all the sand in my hair, I guess. But I haven’t quite figured out how to go about washing my hair with this thing,” she replied with a half-grin, slightly wiggling her cast in the air.

 

He got up from the couch and held his hand out to her.

 

“I’m sure we can fix that, come on.”

 

“You’re kidding me, right?” she asked with an incredulous undertone.

 

“What, you think I’m not able to wash hair? You’ll like it, I promise,” he challenged, mockingly wiggling his eyebrows at her.

 

With a sigh, she put her left hand into his outstretched palm and let him pull her off the couch and towards her bathroom. As usual, she had to work hard to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that crept into her belly whenever he took her hand in his.

 

o o o o o

 

Once in her bathroom, she awkwardly stood by the sink. “Ok, now what?”

 

“Take you top off.”

 

“What?” she exclaimed. Her eyes sprang up, connected with his, and held. And held. Seconds ticked by while neither of them moved. It seemed to Mac as if the room was getting smaller, contracting around them until there was only him and her left and the world stopped to matter. Suddenly he shifted, and just as fast as it had built, the moment passed. Harm cleared his throat.

 

“Well, you’re wearing a t-shirt underneath, right, so you should take your sweater off. It’ll only be in the way and get wet.”

 

She had to take a deep breath, and then sat down on her hamper for she needed the support to steady herself. Getting the sweatshirt on had been struggle enough, she hadn’t even considered how to manage it the other way around. Only having use of the fingers of her right hand, she tried to grasp the left sleeve so she could pull out her left arm. Once she had gotten that accomplished, she attempted to use the now freed arm to pull up the hem. Suddenly Harm was at her side, crouching down in front of her.

 

Looking directly at her, he took hold of the hem, one hand on either side of her, and gradually lifted the sweater. She felt his hand grazing past her rib cage, past her breast, their eye contact never breaking except for the time it took him to work the garment over her head. At last he tenderly pulled the right sleeve off the cast and discarded the piece of clothing to the floor. Only now did she realize that she had been holding her breath throughout it all. Her heart was beating frantically. ‘How it must feel to have him continue undressing me’, she briefly wondered, her tummy taking a nosedive at the thought. Was there something in the air today that she reacted this strongly every time he merely looked at her?

 

He rose from his crouched position and ordered her over to the sink. “Now, where’s your shampoo and whatever else we need to be using?”

 

Did what had just happened not have any effect on him? “Up on that shelf,” she pointed out, and he grabbed her shampoo and the conditioner that he saw standing right next to it.

 

He took charge, first pivoting her around by her shoulders so she was facing the sink, then turning on the water and adjusting the temperature. No more words were spoken. Very unlike her, she actually allowed him to take charge, not fighting or contradicting him, too stunned was she by the events of that evening and his overwhelming presence in her bathroom.

 

He placed his right hand between her shoulder blades and slowly bent her over, directing her head under the warm spray of water. He ran his fingers through her hair so it would wet evenly. Then he turned the water off and squeezed some of the shampoo into his hands. The smell almost overwhelmed him, so much was it her. Every time she walked past him, a whiff of this very essence had caught up with him, warm yet fresh at the same time, like coconut and lemon zest and another mysterious ingredient.

 

With his hands he distributed the shampoo evenly on her hair, then began working it in a lather. His fingertips were applying supple pressure to her scalp, continually moving in small circles up from her neck towards her forehead. He gave particular attention to the soft skin behind her ears, marveling at the tenderness of it, of being allowed to touch her, of being thus intimately cradled around her. He was bent over her, his body touching hers from their thighs on, across their midsections and up to the middle of his chest. All parts fit, like puzzle pieces that had never before been matched but would now be linked together forever.

 

Mac was simply overwhelmed, all her senses working on overdrive. She felt his caresses on her head, could smell him so close to her, and feel his body heat and his strength seeping through her. Her knees buckled; had she not been held in place by the sink on her front and him on the back, she was sure she would have just dropped to the floor. She almost whimpered when his fingers stopped their circles through her hair. ‘Please don’t stop just yet,’ was the only coherent thought she could form when she once again felt the warm water running over her. Attentively, he moved her head around while rinsing her hair, so no water would run into her ears or her eyes. The water stopped, and she could feel his hands returning to her head. She just caught herself in time before sighing loudly, relieved that his caresses would continue.

 

Just as assiduously as the shampoo, he now applied the conditioner to her hair, again basking in the smell and the feel of her skin, not knowing how he would ever be able to stop touching her. The intensity of the moment was overpowering him. He felt his arousal growing and hoped to God that she would not notice. He did not want to force her to acknowledge anything that she was not ready to acknowledge. Yet at the same time he knew that the chances were slim; with their bodies spooned together like this it would be impossible for her not to notice all of him.

 

Mac’s breathing grew more labored. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought that maybe she should be embarrassed about it. He was, after all, only washing her hair. From what she knew, it was nothing more than a friendly turn on his part. But she had reached a point where she simply did not care anymore. She wanted to bask in that moment, taking everything that he was willing to give her.

 

Gripping the edge of the sink, she realized that this was the most erotic and intense sexual encounter she had ever experienced. Nothing came close to the man that she loved giving her his undivided attention. How she wished he would feel the same. She concentrated on him, on feeling his body on top of her, heavy and strong. That’s when she became conscious of his erection nudging her six. The realization that he wanted her almost threw her over the edge. She couldn’t help but moan, the vibration of which Harm could feel shimmying through his body.

 

His breathing more agitated, he still concentrated on his task, finally rinsing the conditioner off as well. Her moaning was proof enough that this encounter was just as intense for her as it was for him. Yet he was unsure what to do next. Were they ready to face the hidden truth behind their close relationship and all of its implications? So he turned the water off, and grabbed a towel to wrap around her head. Then he placed a soft kiss on the one most prominent vertebra that was only visible because of her bent-down position, and ever so gradually peeled himself off her body.

 

His sudden disappearance was like an icy blast. She tried to get a grip on herself. The feeling of embarrassment had effectively made its way back to the forefront of her mind, and she was clueless how to react. She took a deep breath, then slowly turned around.

 

She hadn’t expected him still standing so close to her, and found herself almost in his embrace again. The energy that had built up was still swirling around in the small room, pulsating, screaming to be acknowledged. She had to swallow, then she wet her lips, all the while staring up at him, losing herself in his gaze but finding something new instead.

 

Harm was simply routed to the spot. He didn’t think he could have moved if his life depended on it. Her beautiful brown eyes were gazing at him, and he could read all the mixed emotions in them that she was feeling – wonderment, questions, arousal, trust, hope, maybe even love?

 

Moments ticked by that seemed to last an eternity, in which neither was able to move in either direction.

 

And then they moved both at once, no longer willing to hold anything back. He swiftly claimed her mouth with his lips, voraciously sending his tongue deeply within her. She tasted just as mysteriously as she smelled, sweet and exotic. She didn’t hold anything back either, delighted in the fact that he wanted her so much, that he saw her as a desirable woman to be made his, that she was not being treated as a breakable object.

 

One of his arms trailed around the small of her back, strongly pulling her close to him, while the other wandered to her head, discarded the towel and dove into her hair, holding her head in place and moving it to his liking. In turn, she had snaked her left arm around his neck, holding on for dear life. The arm in the cast was between them, almost painfully pressing into Harm’s stomach, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, only her. Her taste, her smell, her responses, her willingness to participate in this rampage. His tongue continued to make forays into her mouth and she received him with all that she had, their tongues dueling incessantly.

 

Together they stumbled around, till they reached the unyielding hardness of the closed bathroom door. She found herself trapped between it and Harm, and he moved his thighs between her, almost lifting her off the ground, and she simply sank towards him, desire coursing through her. Having her contained like that made him pause for a moment, in which the energy shifted.

 

He continued to kiss her, but now it was a gentler kiss, full of not only want but of promise and thoughtfulness. Into this kiss he tried to pour everything that he had never been able to tell her with words. His lips were gently tucking at hers, his tongue outlined their seams. In turn, she was sucking his lower lip into her mouth; the tucking motion almost making him lose his balance, so sweet and amazing was the feeling. His hands were on either side of her, strumming her rib cage and gently nudging the sides of her breasts.

 

Breathlessly, they had to take a moment or pass out from the lack of oxygen. Yet these seconds were enough for Harm to realize what they were about to do. With any other woman, he would have had no qualms about continuing, but this was Mac, and he wanted to do everything right. She deserved so much more than a meaningless one-night stand. He decided that it was simply too fast for the both of them. It took all of his resolve and more to make that decision, but he felt that this was what he had to do.

 

So he rested his forehead to hears, softly kissed the tip of her nose, and rasped “Sarah.” Her eyes snapped open by his use of her given name.

 

“I think we’re moving too fast.”

 

This she could not believe. Had she not shown him how much she wanted this, him, now? Why did he just change his mind? She was unable to say anything, just stared at him with wide-opened eyes, her confusion clearly showing. Slowly he moved away from her, carefully letting her feet slip back onto the ground, then broke off the contact completely.

 

“I think I need to… I have to… I should just go now…” he mumbled. Unsteadily, she took a step to the side, and could only watch in astonishment as he opened her bathroom door and left.

 

‘Why?’ was the only remotely coherent notion running through her head, ‘why why why why why?’ Why was he showing unmitigated desire for her and then just stop? Did she do something wrong? Then it hit her. He was running again. He was afraid of the implications of their actions, and he just ran, instead of facing them. But she wasn’t going to let him. She had just experienced the most amazing, breath-taking, earth-shattering moments, and she simply knew that she did not ever want to be without him again. No. No more running away, for either of them.

 

“Harm?” she yelled.

 

He had reached the living room when he heard her calling out for him. She sounded like she was drowning. It was all at once a breathless, desperate, and hopeful sound. It managed to make him stop dead in his tracks. Slowly, he turned around. She was standing in the doorway of her bathroom, waiting for him to face her.

 

“Harm?” she questioned, “are you running away?”

 

“No Sarah,” he simply stated, unsure of what would be the right thing to say at this moment.

 

 “I’m just trying to do the right thing.” She understood that this was the moment to tell him how she felt, or it would never happen.

 

“Harm.” It was no longer a question, it was a statement.

 

“This is the right thing. This is it. Harm, I want you more than anything, and believe you feel the same way. No more running.” Her face was serious, yet he could detect the warmth in her eyes; no anger, no fear, only warmth and – now he was sure of it – love.

 

“Harm. Stay. Tonight. Forever. Just stay.”

 

And so he did.

 

THE END