Title: Unscheduled Landing
Author: Karen
Disclaimers: For any and all borrowing of copyright or trademarks used by my Harm and Mac dolls, I’m just playing.
Notes: b and I were talking about how cranky Harm is at 0500 in the last episode. I decided to find something that would make him happier at that time of the morning. Here's the result.
It’s 0432.
I’m cold. Chilled, but only on one side.
The other side is warm, very warm, almost hot.
We crashed. I know we did. Maybe I’m burned.
They said something was wrong with the avionics. They would try an emergency landing. It must not have worked.
There’s a steel beam resting across my middle, and another bigger one across my legs. I’m pinned. I can’t move.
It was snowing, that’s why I’m cold. I wonder if they’ll come to get us? I wonder if I’m dead?
But if I’m dead, why do I know what time it is, and what woke me up, why am I aware? Maybe I’m still alive.
That’s it. I’m stuck in the wreckage. Maybe they haven’t found us.
But what woke me? Wait, there it is again, like a feather on my neck. Only warm. And a humming sound.
Machinery? No, too soft, too close. Breathing. It’s breathing. That’s it, someone’s breathing on my neck.
Lie still a minute. Think. You’re pinned in the wreckage. You’re cold, but not cold enough to be out in the snow. Someone’s breathing, sleeping, against your neck.
It’s Harm. I know how he sounds when he sleeps. Maybe he’s unconscious. No, he’s breathing normally.
One of my arms is pinned, but the other one….I can move the other one.
Okay if I can move, and I know what time it is, and I hear, and feel, I can’t be dead.
I didn’t dream it. We did land. I remember now. It was the last plane out. We had the last seats. Then the stewardess told us there was a problem, and asked if we would help if there were an emergency. We finally landed, although shakily, in an unscheduled airport in a small city.
We were the last off the plane, as we helped with those who were helpless in their fear. The last to claim our baggage. The last on the shuttle to the small local hotel. And the last assigned a room.
Yes ‘a’ room, only one, it was the last one left. That’s why we’re sharing a bed. They didn’t even have a rollaway. And there’s no couch in the room.
But why can’t I move? Was I hurt in the landing? I don’t remember that happening.
Hmmm. I can stretch a little. I can wiggle back and forth. My back’s okay. Let’s see, my head moves from side to side, so my necks okay. I can flex my legs, even though I can’t move them. Toes? Yes, toes move, they’re okay. Fingers? Left hand’s free. It’s okay. Right hand? I can wiggle my fing…uh…uh-oh I didn’t mean to do that.
Uh oh more, it’s moving. Oh God, what am I going to do now? Maybe he’s still asleep. Hold very still. If you move your hand, it might wake him. But if you don’t move your hand and he wakes up. Oh God.
I know sometimes a body moves away from irritation in sleep. My other hand is free. I’ll try this. Yes, it’s his arm across my body. I should have known that. It’s not a steel beam just his hard, heavy arm. And my legs, I can feel it now, it’s his leg wrapped across me. His body is completely surrounding me
Oh God, my other hand. I need to keep my fingers still. It’s moving in my hand. Okay, think now Mackenzie. I’ll run my fingers lightly through the hair on his arm, maybe he’ll move it, and then I can get free without waking him.
Just lightly tickle the hair on his arm, get it to move. Oof, that didn’t work, he just pulled me tighter. I can hardly breathe, and my hand, I can’t move ‘that’ hand at all. It’s growing in my hand. I have to move.
Maybe if I just wiggle a little sideways.
“Will you hold still,” he whispers in my ear.
I freeze trying desperately to pull my hand away from…from …
“Now why’d you do that?” he asks.
“What?” I know what, I’m just not admitting it.
”Move your hand. Now I’m cold. Put it back.” He says petulantly, pulling me tighter. My hand has nowhere else to go.
“Harm? Are you awake?” I’m sure he’s dreaming.
“Of course I’m awake. How could I be asleep?”
“I…I don’t know. I just thought….” Actually I’m not really thinking at all.
“Where were you going anyway? It’s snowing outside. And it’s cold. Hold still,” he grumps.
“I…I didn’t meant to wake you.” I open my eyes carefully. The early dawn reflected off the snow outside, gives an unearthly glow to the room
“Excuse me?” he says, opening one of his gorgeous blue eyes. The other is still buried in the pillow. “What do you mean you didn’t mean to wake me?”
“Boy, are you cranky in the morning,” I state.
“I’m not cranky. Why did you wake me?” he demands.
“I didn’t wake you. That is, I really didn’t mean to wake you.” I try to explain again.
“C’mon Mac, you can do better than that. Even at o’dark thirty.”
“0447 actually.” I can’t help it. It just slips out.
“Fine, 0447. You wiggle up against me, rubbing yourself all over me. Then you grab hold of…well…of ‘that’ and then you start moving you fingers around. Then you stroke my arm, and play with the hair. You expect me to sleep through that?” he asks astonished. Well, when he puts it that way….
“Harm,” I sigh resignedly. “I didn’t mean to grab hold of ‘that’, it was just ‘there’, and when I touched it, accidentally, it just sort of….um….responded.” I’ll never talk my way out of this one.
“Well of course it responded,” he leans upwards on one elbow. “What did you expect? I mean, it hasn’t been used much lately, but for Gods sake, it’s been waiting around for years for you to touch it, of course it responded. It’s not dead you know,” he finishes indignantly.
Swell, sarcasm. I have a hand full of his ‘that’, and he’s being sarcastic.
“Well fine,” I flare back. “You can have it back then, if it’s going to make you nasty.” I try to pull away.
He holds me tighter still. His face is getting closer to mine. His body is moving again, sliding over mine. “Are you sure you want to do that Mac? After all, I didn’t say it was a bad idea,” he suggests as his lips brush lightly over mine.
“Well, now that you mention it.” Warm liquid things start moving around inside of me. “Maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. Even if it was an accident. I mean, after all, it is snowing, and well, we can’t keep it waiting forever, now can we?” I rationalize.
“I thought you might agree,” he murmurs, as his hand slips under my PJ’s.
“And I wouldn’t want you to be cranky, Harm,” I whisper back.
“Hmmm, I don’t think I’m going to be cranky. Would you like to wake me up every morning?” he kisses me on my ear. Continuing down my neck, he runs his tongue over my jaw line and recaptures my lips.
“Is that a proposition,” I ask sliding my tongue over his lower lip. His entire body responds.
“More like a proposal,” he says, as our clothes disappear, and he finishes what I started.
We’ve slept together before. Why didn’t I think of this sooner? It’s my last genuine, coherent thought for a while.
End