Title: Crazy Love

Author: lauraloo

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine.

Category: Romance, humor

Summary: This is a short little reaction piece to “The Four Percent Solution.”

Notes: Okay, I think I broke the fluff-ometer with this one. As much as I adore sexy, passionate, intense Harm, I also love goofy/fun/playful Harm – and he’s the star of this fic. Somehow, this turned itself into a little Four Percent reaction piece. It’s nothin’ but mind-candy, but it was oh so much fun to write!

The title comes from the Aaron Neville song that I’m, well, “crazy” about. :) LL

Crazy Love

“Look, Mac. Nothing’s changed. I’m still here.

Let’s just enjoy the good news. Be happy. You’re alive.”

“You know what makes the news better? We both are.”

Harm and Mac, “The Four Percent Solution”

“Two years confinement,” Harm lobbed across the conference table, splitting his gaze between Sturgis and Mac.

Sturgis silently conferred with his co-counsel. “Three. And you know that’s a damn lucky break.”

Harm briefly studied the case file in front of him. He flipped one hand through the pages then lifted his gaze, an easy smile upon his face. “Okey-dokey.”

Gathering his belongings, Sturgis gave Mac a quizzical look before exiting.

She spun around to face Harm, her brows drawn together. “Did you just say okey-dokey?”

He nodded once. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

Still puzzled, Mac leaned forward on her elbows. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Harm, this morning you were whistling in the elevator.”

He shrugged. “It’s a proven fact that I can whistle a mean Zippity Do-Da, Mac.”

“But it’s Monday,” she stressed, “and come to think of it, you were half an hour early.”

“Well, you know what they say about the early bird…”

Exasperated, Mac sprung up from her chair, ending his sentence when she placed her hand on his forehead. “Just checking,” she said wryly.

“Hey, is it so rare to find me in a good mood that you think I’m running a fever?” He’d tried to sound wounded, but couldn’t control the slight grin that pulled one corner of his mouth.

“Well, it’s just…you…”

“It’s a beautiful day, Mac,” he interrupted.

If she’d suspected it before, now she was certain. He’d completely lost his mind. She flew to the nearest window, heaving a section of the old, dusty blinds aside. “We’re in the middle of a snowstorm. I can’t see ten feet passed the glass.”

By this time, he’d packed up his briefcase and moved into the threshold of the door. Instead of answering, he further exacerbated her state of total confusion by gazing intently at her face. “How are you feeling?” His words were nearly as delicate as his expression.

Instinctively, her hand cupped the bruises that had faded considerably, but still purpled her cheek. “It’s uh…it’s much better, thanks.” She sighed nervously. “But no matter what sort of tricks I did with makeup, I still came out looking like a berry patch.”

One hand on the doorknob, he smiled shyly and lifted a shoulder before exiting. “You still look really pretty today, Mac.”

Stunned, she shook her head as if to clear it. “What the heck just happened?” she asked under her breath.

Back in his office, Harm eased into his chair and thought back, for at least the hundredth time, to that night a little more than a week ago. It had been Christmas Eve and he’d come much too close to losing her again. But it wasn’t the fear, or the initial horror that had come at the ringing of his phone that wouldn’t stop replaying in his mind. It was the three little words she’d whispered from her hospital bed.

We both are.

It had been late and she’d been exhausted. A few seconds after the last word had left her mouth, she’d closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. She never noticed the relieved, elated grin that had come when he’d truly realized what she’d meant. And he hadn’t been able to stop smiling since.

***

Mac knocked on Harm’s apartment door with one hand, the other juggling her coat and the raspberry cashmere scarf he’d given her for Christmas one year.

“Hey.” He brightened when he saw it was her and stood aside to let her in. “I take it the weather’s let up.”

“Quite a bit. But it’s still far from beautiful out there, Harm.” She found a place for her belongings and accepted a cobalt blue bottle of sparking water. “Thanks.” She took a long sip and cast her gaze around the warm, cozy space. He hadn’t taken down his Christmas tree yet. It stood proudly by a window and somehow she wasn’t surprised that he still kept it lit. He’d changed into worn jeans and a black Henley, socks on his feet. She couldn’t remember a time when he looked more relaxed.

“So, did you come to gather more evidence on what you’ve now deemed as my precarious mental state?” he asked playfully.

This made her laugh. “Actually, I could use a little good cheer. And you’ve shown that you have plenty to spare. You know,” she smiled crookedly, “you should bottle that stuff, Harm. I’d buy it.”

He moved back to the refrigerator and shook his head dramatically. Seconds later, a pile of veggies, a jar of something red and another something wrapped in waxed paper sat on the counter. “Sorry, Mac.” He swept one hand over the pile of the ingredients. “But I can offer you dinner.”

She hiked a brow. “Your homemade pizza?”

“Yep. But it’s going to be our homemade pizza tonight. Ditch the drink and roll up your sleeves, Marine.”

She obeyed and immediately went to work with a rolling pin. While he grated cheese, she flattened and shaped the dough upon a big plastic mat. After a few minutes, she looked up to find him smiling. “What?”

“You have flour on your nose.” He grabbed a towel and tenderly, but with a little flourish, dabbed at the offending substance.

He was close now, even inches away. And something about that made the hundreds of thoughts racing through her head betray themselves upon her face.

Harm noticed immediately. “Mac, it looks like there’s something you want to ask me,” he offered quietly.

Startled, her eyes flew up to his. “Well, now. Chipper and perceptive, aren’t we?”

“Maybe I’m just hopeful.” He watched as she cut her glance away briefly then focused squarely upon him, considering his words. She bit down slightly on the bottom edge of her lip, her cheeks flushed in a way that had nothing to do with bruising. He knew he’d taken a risk but he was damn tired of leaving certain things unsaid. And when the woman he was madly in love with was standing in his kitchen, her arms wrist deep in pizza dough, giving the slightest indication that she might be ready to talk to him, it was time to get busy.

“I’m having a little trouble understanding something you said at the hospital,” Mac began hesitantly.

“What something?”

She found a dishtowel and wiped her hands clean. “You said, ‘I’m still here.’”

He nodded. “I did and I am. It’s three words, Mac. Exactly what part of ‘I’m still here’ is confusing you?” His warm, lighthearted smile bellied the sarcasm.

“The ‘here’ part.” She drummed her fingernails against the smooth, cold surface of the counter. “I guess I need to know where ‘here’ is, Harm. I mean, after everything that’s happened, are you here… in my life, as my friend, maybe even my best friend? Or maybe as my colleague? Something more? Where exactly is ‘here’?”

The air seemed to thicken as he took his hand and placed it upon her heart. “Here is ‘here,’” he whispered.

She let out a quick wisp of air.

“Is that okay?”

She took in a deep breath and placed her hand over his. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.”

He smiled warmly but didn’t kiss her. Not yet. But it just seemed right to draw her into his arms for a snug, comforting embrace that neither wanted to sever.

“So what now?” she asked at length, her words muffled against the soft cotton of his shirt. He smelled so good, like spices that made her think of exotic, faraway places.

Reluctantly, he pulled back and found her eyes shining. “Well, there’s this new thing we could try out. It’s all the rage right now. It involves you and me spending a lot of time together, maybe going out for dinner, or seeing a movie or something. It’s called dating.”

She laughed richly and gave him a light swat on the arm. “You’re crazy.”

He winked and ruffled the ends of her hair. “So I’ve been told.”

“But Harm, we have dinner together all the time. And the last two movies I saw were with you…”

His head rose and fell in one slow motion. “Ahh, but you see, I’ve heard that in this dating thing, it’s common for the two individuals involved to kiss goodnight.”

“Hmm, interesting.” She gestured with her head to the half-prepared meal. “Technically, we’re spending time together right now. And we’re about to have dinner. So, how about we assume that this is a date?”

“That’s damn brilliant, Marine.” He gently brushed his thumb along her cheekbone before turning to switch on the oven. He was stopped by her hand on his shoulder.

“You know, Harm, I sustained quite a head injury in that crash.”

“I know you did,” he said, noting the coy tilt of her head and the raised brows that robbed every drop of gravity from her statement.

“So, would you believe me if I said that it totally threw off my natural sense of time?”

He took her hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Not for a second. But I’m going with it anyway.”

“Good, ‘cause I could probably be persuaded, maybe even tricked into thinking that we already ate and it was getting really late…”

He felt his heart explode as he pulled her close again, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Mac,”

“Yeah,”

“I’m going to kiss you goodnight now.”

“Okey-dokey,” she whispered and caught his sweet, silly grin before his lips touched hers. The kiss grew with each passing second - soft and deep and perfect.

Later, he would tell her that he loved her and always had. And he’d tell her that she was the most beautiful thing on this earth, bruises and all. And sometime very soon, when the time was right, he’d give her the diamond ring that was sitting in his dresser drawer and ask if she’d be “Mrs. Crazy” for life. But something told him he was never going to stop smiling.

The End