003. BtVS: Go Places - 48 drabbles, femslash, R.
Title: Go Places
Fandom: Buffy/Angel
Author:
hkath
Summary: The world's last hope is Harmony Kendall. Also, she's kinda gay. And a serial killer. Harmony/Faith, of all things! IDEK. Set in a sort of eternal Angel S5.
Notes: This is 48 of my 100 drabbles for
whedonland's big bang alt challenge, on the theme "bad girls". I used up all the posted drabble themes but one in this piece, and a bunch of my song prompts (I actually ended up writing way more song prompts than necessary).
Blue
“He treats me like dirt,” Harmony says, and sighs. “But he has really pretty eyes.”
“Have you told him you don’t like the way he treats you?”
Harmony tilts her head. “Sort of?”
“What was his reaction?”
“Oh, he was really nice about it.”
Doctor Savage raises her eyebrows. “What did he say, Harmony?”
Harmony thinks back. “He said… ‘Oh.’”
“A nice ‘oh’?”
Harmony bites her lip. She’s not sure she remembers anything right.
“He bought me a drink…”
“I’m sure it was a very nice drink.”
Full
Harmony’s first epiphany is that she spent her whole life hungry, bouncing from diet to diet, always trying to fit into the next size down, or to shame the other girls with her incredibly defined collarbone. Then she died, and all those worries just ended. She got to be young and sexy forever, and so what if she couldn’t gaze into a mirror to prove it?
Now she’s hungry just because. Hungry all the time, and nothing ever satisfies.
Leaving Doctor Savage’s office, Harmony thinks maybe this is what it’s like to feel full. She could get used to this.
Clean Break
Still buzzed from last night's therapy session, Harmony doesn't worry about W&H's random drug tests. She doesn't worry about anything all day, except her Minesweeper score.
“That's a bomb,” Spike says, suddenly behind her. Harmony's so relaxed she barely jumps.
“Is not,” she says, and clicks. It explodes.
“So, now that you're not doing anything...” Spike says, and gives her that look.
“Yeaaaah, I don't think so, Blondie Bear. Your little Sugarplum needs her alone time at the mo. Plus, you're kind of toxic to my growth.”
Spike just stares. Maybe smart blood makes you smarter.
American Idol
There are so many things that Harmony can't ever do now that she's a vampire. No one ever tells you about that before you become one. She can't be an Olympic beach volleyball player, for example. Not that she was on track to becoming one anyway, but it sort of sucks to have the option taken away, along with hundreds of others.
She can't go on Survivor, unless they invent some kind of all-vampire Survivor that only films at night. Or in Antactica.
All her dream careers are out of her reach. Harmony looks really good in a bikini, too.
San Andreas Fault
Sometimes things just fall apart. People too: fall right into two pieces.
Harmony isn't sorry for eating all those doctors, but she still hates herself for it - hates that she's weak that way. It feels like that part of Harmony is always there, waiting to perform its dirty sabotage on her life.
There she was on one road, and now she's on another, and that lack of control is really scary. And she has no one to talk to about it, because she killed pretty much any shrink in the Los Angeles area who took after-dark appointments.
See? Self-sabotage.
Haircut
She wakes up in chains, her wrists bound uncomfortably behind her. Her head feels like it's been squeezed between two boulders for a couple of hours, and she wishes for a minute that she was, well, whatever Lorne is, because it would be so awesome to be able to take off her head until it stopped hurting so much. Even if it meant sacrificing her milky complexion and growing a couple of icky horns.
Then she sees the guy with the axe, and her opinion on the subject changes drastically. She squeaks.
“Um, just a little off the top?”
Pirates
The first surprise is that she’s not dead. The axe clatters to the ground and Harmony opens her eyes to a cloud of stinging dust. She can just barely make out the features of the guy who saved her life: shock of dark hair, broad shoulders, eye patch.
Rescued by a sexy pirate! It’s always happening to the heroines of the books she reads, but Harmony figured it was a long shot in the real world.
Here comes my happily ever after, she thinks, and flicks her hair as best she can while chained to a big slab of marble.
Dust
When the dust clears, it’s Xander Harris peering at her from behind that eye patch. No sexy pirate, just a dorky creepster from Crappydale.
“Oh, it’s you.”
Their voices echo in the dank cave. He sounds just as delighted to see her as she is to see him. His fingers twitch around his upraised stake. Great, first Xander kills the guy who wants to cut her head off, then he kills her.
“Woah, trigger,” someone says behind Harmony. “Want to single-handedly end the world?”
Xander lowers his stake. This is how Harmony finds out that she matters.
Noise
It sounds like there's a whole hockey team in the cave, but the only person she can see is still stupid Xander. Harmony tries to twist around, but she's chained up tight. Someone's dragging a heavy rock across the floor. Someone else is rattling some heavy metal thing. Harmony tries counting heartbeats, but they keep moving around, and her head's still fuzzy. There are eight, maybe nine heartbeats. And someone without one. Someone she knows.
“Spike?”
He gets to work on her chains.
“Just had to be you, didn't it? This oughta be a bit of fun, then.”
Cold Hard Cash
Harmony's sire turns out to be some kind of psycho. She's not exactly shocked, since, you know, he did kill her. But he's more than a kill-you-in-an-alley psycho, apparently. He's a chew-your-own-fingers-off-and-replace-th
“Only someone who shares his blood can kill him,” Buffy says. “So I'm totally useless.”
“Tell me about it,” Harmony mutters. “This is so not how I thought this date would go.”
“Date?” Spike says, looking sort of freaked.
“We met on the internet.” Harmony sighs. “He said he had a boat.”
Square
“Let me get this straight: big bad wants to turn us all into mindless wifeslaves à la Stepford, and the only thing in existence with any chance of stopping him is… Harmony.”
Everyone stares at Harmony. She gives them an awkward wave.
“Anyone else having trouble accepting this? Because I’m having some serious trouble. With the accepting. Of the this.”
“The world certainly appears to be doomed.”
“Aw, G, don’t be such a square. Give the girl a chance. She might surprise you.”
Giles looks stung, but Faith just shrugs.
“Ain’t like you got any choice.”
Salt In A Wound
They all find excuses, one by one.
Buffy's well-known, she'd attract too much attention.
Giles and Andrew have research to do.
Xander isn't strong enough to protect her.
Angel and company have bigger apocalypses to worry about.
Spike's the only one who tells the truth. “Rather feed myself to a herd of feral cats one bloody chunk at a time over the course of several grueling days.” Then he shrugs. “No offense, Harm.” Like that helps.
“Guess that leaves me,” Faith says from her perch on Harmony's kitchen counter. She slaps her thighs. “Always the winner.”
Sleep
Faith’s bed looks like a bunch of distant hills in just the faint halo of light surrounding the curtains. Harmony misses her room. She misses her Betty Boop nightlight, and her unicorn pillow. She doesn’t want to save the world, anymore. She just wants to go home.
She wonders if this is what it was like for the Slayer, when she first got chosen. If so, then good, because this sucks big time.
Faith rolls over, a warm lump of legs and heartbeat and soft, slow breath.
Harmony wraps her arms around herself.
It probably wasn’t like this for Faith.
Wild Horses
They've been travelling for three days before Faith finally asks, although Harmony's pretty sure she's been wondering for a while – at least since she saw Harmony's toothbrush in the motel bathroom the first time she went to shower. But it's the notebook and fuzzy pen that finally get to her, Harmony stopping to think up a Hangman word while Faith looks on in awe.
“Right, I give. What's with the unicorns?”
Harmony shrugs, flilpping the book closed to look at the prancing unicorn on its cover.
“They look so happy,” she says. “Always cheers me up.”
Slow Show
The alarm goes off around four-thirty, the glow around the curtains already softer than full afternoon light. Harmony stays still while Faith slaps it quiet and crawls out of bed, yawning. She stops in front of the mirror, combs her fingers through her tousled hair, then strips her shirt off, stretching her arms far over her head.
One hand travels slowly to her belly. There's a scar there, a twisted old thing that Faith strokes with gentle fingers, deep in thought.
Harmony watches it all through her eyelashes, until Faith disappears into the bathroom and the shower roars to life.
Telephone
“Me and Harm are both still tickin’.” Faith holds the phone with her shoulder while she empties her bag. “’Bout you, B? What's new with the Lost Sword of Gargamel?”
She calls every single morning. Someone different answers every time.
“It’s Horkubriel. Or something.”
The Slayer’s voice is tinny. She still sounds annoyed.
“And?”
“Nothing yet. Just keep laying low for now.”
“Laying lowest,” Faith says. She stretches out on her bed and tosses the phone aside, waving Harmony over with a deck of cards. “Gin?”
They play for nickels. They both cheat.
Marshmallows
Harmony looks up from painting her nails Powerful Pink to find Faith watching, fascinated. Or horrified.
“I could do yours next.”
“Hell, no,” Faith says, but her eyes keep following Harmony’s movements.
“It could be like a sleepover! Oooh, we could get Gummy Bears and marshmallows! And we have Pay-Per-View!”
Faith looks unmoved. “We both sleeping here?”
“Yeah…”
“Then it’s already a sleepover. Bully for us.”
Harmony pouts, and Faith sighs, offering her fingers.
“Fine. Anyone asks, you threatened to stake yourself unless I let you.”
“Understood,” Harmony says with a grin.
Cowboy
When they hit Texas, Faith stops at the first gas station she sees and gets a black cowboy hat. She drives all night with it on, lips pressed into a little smirk.
It’s totally unfair. And not only because Faith’s enjoying herself while Harmony’s in mortal danger. Harmony curls up with her feet on the dashboard and pretends to sleep. Nobody ever buys her a cute hat.
Near sunrise, they park, and Faith tosses the hat onto Harmony’s lap before heading into the motel’s front office.
“Keep it warm for me.”
Wish I could, Harmony thinks, touching the brim.
Windmill
After four nights on the road without anyone trying to kill her, Harmony begs Faith for some time off from the fugtive life. It doesn't take much begging: she knows Faith is just as antsy as she is.
Their only option is a country and western bar out by the highway. There's beer in Mason jars, a mechanical bull, and a bunch of greasy-looking truckers.
Faith spends the whole night trying to get herself dared onto the bull. She eventually climbs up unprompted and makes a show of it, one arm windmilling behind her. She's mesmerizing. No one looks away.
No-Tell Motel
This place is gross even by their standards, although Faith says it's a palace compared to some places she's lived. But whatever: Harmony's lived in a sewer. This room sucks.
There's only one bed, and it's narrow and sags in the middle, pressing them together. Faith's so warm. Harmony watches her sleep, slow glance moving over Faith's lips to the soft skin of her throat. Her mouth waters, and she leans in to kiss or bite, or both.
“Keep y'teeth to y'self,” Faith mutters, showing Harmony the stake under her pillow. Harmony sighs. It's gonna be a long day.
Ninjas
This one time, back when Harmony still had a job and, like, a roof over her head that didn’t reek of hundreds of previous occupants, these ninja robots came and tried to kill everyone. One of them dressed up as Wesley’s dad and Wesley got to shoot it a whole bunch of times.
Harmony doesn’t have a dad. Oh, she had a father once, who called her a few days after her birthday every year. She has a sire, who never officially introduced himself, although she remembers his face. And she has Spike.
Sometimes Harmony is really jealous of Wesley.
Robots
After Fred died and Illyria took over, Harmony kept thinking about those ninja robots all the time.
It was partly that Illyria hung around the office all day, walking and talking like a tiny blue android from the planet Weirdo. But it was more than that: Harmony started fantasizing about being a robot.
There’d be no more pressure to think and act a certain way. She’d do what she was programmed to do. No confusion. She’d just hand over the reins to someone who knew what they were doing. She’d finally let go.
That’s when she started seeing Doctor Savage.
Circle
After Dr. Savage, she couldn’t seem to stop eating. She’d see a new doctor for a few weeks and they’d talk about her relationships or her mom or her pathological narcissism (whatever that was). Then Harmony would have a breakthrough: one clear moment of understanding about herself.
Sometimes she’d cry at first, but eventually a pure, powerful energy would fill her up. It made her feel fierce. It reminded her of what she was. It made her bite.
Nobody ever tasted as sweet as those doctors.
Afterwards, swallowing down the bitter aftertaste of failure, she’d get back on the wagon.
Humble Pie
Mornings, it's hard not to tell Faith everything. Harmony's always been a bedtime blabbermouth.
Thing is, she's not sure if she's sorry about the doctors. What she is, mostly, is jealous. She's surrounded by people with more willpower than she has, who don't need the help she does.
Harmony's not sure yet if she wants to be punished, or forgiven. Half of her wants to brag about the killings. The other keeps trying to imagine them away.
Telling Faith wouldn't feel like bragging. Faith might understand.
It's too much to risk. Losing Faith – she'd be sorry if that happened.
Opposites
She blames Spike for pretty much everything. It’s like there’s this little British voice in her head, calling her bird names she doesn’t understand. Even now that she’s working through her issues, it’s got this influence on her. How does she know if she wants something for real, or because it would piss off imaginary Spike?
Whenever Harmony looks at Faith these days, she thinks about confessing. Or kissing. One thought usually leads to the other.
Slayer and vampire. Good and evil. Brunette and natural blonde.
It’s a doomed obsession, she knows. The idea of it makes her toes curl.
Maybe We Should Fall In Love
They set out right after Xander's call about the sword of Caramel. New Orleans is hours away, and there's no time to waste.
Harmony steals a blanket off the motel bed and huddles under it like a bag lady. Once they're driving, sun low behind them, she risks poking her head out a little. Faith's hands are tense on the wheel, her eyes constantly flicking to the rearview.
Harmony takes advantage of her lack of reflection to pull faces.
“Nice,” Faith says, her mouth twitching into a smile. “You heard of peripheral vision?”
Harmony crosses her eyes, giggling.
Pantry
They keep a stash of food in the car. A cooler of blood and a duffel bag stuffed with Twinkies and beef jerky. So if a gang of vampire assassins in Hummers tries to run them off the road, leading to a terrifying six-hour chase across state lines and through downtown Lafayette, they're covered for snacks.
“This is freakin' retarded,” Faith says, tires screeching. “I should pull over and kick the shit out of these guys.”
“Please don't,” Harmony sobs.
She thought she'd like being the centre of attention for once, but it's no fun at all.
Bonfire
Near-death experiences always make her horny. That’s probably how she kept ending up with Spike, way back when. She’d been a hopeless newbie, almost-dying on a nightly basis from her total lack of survival skills. Maybe Spike and his penis just happened to be convenient. Who knows?
The car is totaled, they’re still 200 miles from where they need to be, but they’re safe. Harmony stares into an empty gas station mirror and tries to settle the fire inside her.
She’s almost succeeded when she smells Faith just outside the door. Smells her desire, and the flame surges up again.
Chill Pill
The doorknob clicks and right away Faith is pressed against her, kissing and squeezing. Harmony hops up on the rim of the rusty sink and spreads her legs, pulling them closer. Faith’s scent is intoxicating.
Harmony can’t believe this is actually happening. It’s been so long since anyone wanted her this way. Actually, she’s not sure anyone’s ever wanted her this way.
She touches Faith’s cheek, pulls back from bruising lips.
“You’re not gonna make me dress up as someone else, are you?”
Faith blinks, her swollen mouth slightly open.
They both jump when someone pounds on the door.
Frames
The door nearly busts off its hinges.
“Occupado, buddy!” Faith hollers, hands still gripping Harmony’s hips.
The whole room rattles every time a blow lands, and the frame starts to give almost immediately, wood splintering near the lock mechanism and the upper hinge. Faith kicks at the bottom of the toilet stall, dislodging paint flecks and a chunk of useless, soggy wood.
“Ooh, I know!”
Harmony totters off the edge of the sink, snatching up an ancient toilet plunger and snapping it easily in half. She tosses the plungey half to Faith just as the door flies open.
Blood
The smell of Faith’s blood hits Harmony hard. All she can see is red, a desperate hunger clawing at her. Faith sags against the gas station wall, huge gash in her side from a flung chain. They’re surrounded. A big bald vamp sniffs the air and licks his chops.
Growling, Harmony just attacks, slamming him into a gas pump and breaking it off its base, fuel flying everywhere. It’s total chaos.
Then Faith’s yanking hard on her arm, and a lighter flicks open. The last thing the bald vamp sees before bursting into flame is Faith’s boot in his face.
Car Crash
The gash in Faith's side makes it hard for her to use her right arm, so Harmony drives for a while. She's always liked driving, the speed and the sense of freedom. Not that they have much of that at the moment, just a pressing need to get to the others without losing any body parts. Faith says she isn't big on running, but right now protecting Harmony comes first.
“That was a stop sign,” Faith says, looking behind them. “And have you heard of a turn signal?”
“Don't be such a square,” Harmony says, and accelerates.
We're Comin' To Kill Ya
Faith has to ditch her cell phone, actually smash it with her boot heel by the side of the road, like this is a movie. It's exciting, and also really scary. Five minutes ago they got a text message that said Kill u soon and then showed their exact coordinates, which Faith figured out from the GPS in the car.
So they're not taking any chances. They smash the GPS, too, and search the car.
Harmony's freaked, but she's also oddly proud of her vampire brethren. So many vamps fail to embrace technology for the awesome convenience that it is.
Half
You know when they say something isn't half bad? Harmony’s started thinking about herself that way. She tried, and she couldn’t be all the way bad or all the way good. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe she can just exist in between.
The car’s quiet. It’s time to tell.
“Faith? I ate my therapist. In L.A. Then I ate a bunch of other therapists. I don’t know why.”
Faith’s glances over. “Okay...”
“I’m not sorry. And I’m on probation, so don’t tell?”
Faith's eyebrows do weird things. Harmony swallows.
“But I think I shouldn't kill people anymore.”
Shut Up And Kiss Me
Harmony's kind of expecting Faith to kick her out of the car after her confession, but she doesn't. Instead, she pulls into the next town, even though it's only midnight, and she finds a motel and gets them a room. Harmony stays in the car, worried. She only follows after Faith has disappeared inside.
Faith's over by the TV, but when the door shuts she takes two long steps, cups Harmony's face in her warm hands, and touches their lips together.
Harmony gasps. “What's that for?”
“For changing,” Faith says, kissing her again. “For wanting to change.”
Agreement
“Faithie?”
“No.”
“Can I call you Sweetie?”
“No.”
“But-”
“Don't call me Sweetie, don't call me Faithie. Don't call me anything. Just sleep, Harm. I'm freakin' tired.”
“Can't. Too scared. What if I forget what to do? Or we're late for the end of the world? I don't want to die again, Faithie. Dying felt really bad the first time around.”
“Harmony-”
“Sorry! Sorry! I won't call you that anymore.”
Faith shifts under the blankets, wrapping Harmony in the warmth of her arms.
“It's okay. Call me what you want.”
Darkness
Darkness makes it easier to talk.
“I can’t go home, can I?”
Faith rolls onto her side, shifting the whole bed.
“That’s real deep.”
Harmony holds her hand in front of her face, stares at the separation between dark and darker.
“They’re gonna find those bodies, and Angel’s gonna know I broke probation.”
“How?”
“They have my teethprints on file. Fingerprints. DNA. Scent signature. Brainwave frequency.”
“Daaamn.”
“Plus, I kinda marked them in my day-planner.”
Faith scoffs. “What, did you rate them?”
Harmony shrugs. “I just wanted to remember the dates.”
Centre
When they meet up in New Orleans, Buffy makes this big deal out of being charitable and giving Faith a break from her vampire-sitting duties. Harmony’s stomach starts to sink. Of course it was just adrenaline or whatever. Faith would never kiss her on purpose.
But Faith shrugs and says, “No big, B. We’re used to each other by now.” She gives Harmony her smallest, quickest smile.
Later, when Faith’s hot wet fingers are finding the very core of her, Harmony remembers that smile and it makes her tremble. She swears she feels her heart gives a little lurch.
Dirty Whirl
Harmony died a virgin, but she's had her fair share of sex since then. Granted, none of it was with a warm body, but she thought she'd done pretty well for herself, conquest-wise. But this? This is something else.
Faith's body opens to her, sleak thighs falling languidly against the rumpled cheeks. Her body rocks forward, surging into Harmony's touch, her clit pulsing with warmth first under Harmony's fingers and then under her tongue as she gives into the desire to taste.
Faith shudders and moans, and when Harmony uses the edges of her blunt human teeth, she practically gyrates.
Fairy Tale
Spike used to call her princess, but in this sarcastic way that made her feel like an ornament on a shelf instead of a person. When Faith calls her beautiful, it’s different than that. Maybe because Faith has seen all her ugliest bits, her secrets.
Tonight, Harmony’s going to face her sire for only the second time ever. She’s going to try to save the world. She will probably fail. Her track record tells her so. But it’s okay.
She’s finally figured out what she’s been doing wrong all this time. She’s not a princess at all; she’s a prince.
Variety Pack
“What do you want?” Faith says, pawing through the cooler. “I got O-neg, B-neg and AB-positive.”
“You got me human?” Harmony squeals, bouncing across the room and squeezing Faith so hard her shoulders creak.
“They were fresh outta goat. Anyway, I figure you're gonna need your strength, big showdown coming up.”
Harmony's face falls.
“Is this my Spaghetti-Os?”
“Huh?”
“My last meal! It is, isn't it? You don't believe in me! You think I'm gonna die!”
Faith leans back, arms crossed.
“You gonna let that stop you?”
“... No?”
“Atta girl.”
Chocolate Salty Balls
After two bags of blood and a long, hot shower, Harmony curls up to watch some Project Runway and not think about anything. Faith putters around the room, changes her shirt. Harmony purrs as she takes in the golden skin of Faith's back and shoulders.
She dozes for a while, wakes up to screechy cartoons and Faith's gravelly voice, giggling. Faith's bare legs are curled under her and she's eating Cheetos out of the bag, wiping her orange fingers on the edge of the motel comforter.
Harmony beams. “You do have sleepover experience!”
Faith might be her dream girl.
Foreign Language
Beheading her sire might end up being the easy part. Harmony’s pretty sure she’ll never be able to memorize this incantation they want her to say before doing it. Aside from holding court as reigning bitch queen of Sunnydale High, she’s never done much public speaking, and these words are total gibberish. Giles called it Latin, but Harmony’s skeptical. She’s known some Latin-American people. They don’t talk like this.
“Don’t look at me,” Faith says. “Tenth grade dropout, here.” Then she frowns, reconsidering. “Well, I did do the altar girl gig. You know what? Give it here.”
Secret Lovers
Giles has the room next door, and Buffy and Xander are sharing on the other side.
Spike is around somewhere, with his superhearing and his super sense of smell and his uncanny ability to see everything. And his other two senses, which he could also probably use to deduce that Harmony and Faith are sleeping together.
If Harmony can hear these people, make out every heartbeat and wheeze and stomach gurgle, then they'll certainly be able to hear the bed bouncing around.
“S'wrong?” Faith teases. “Scared they'll call you a slut?”
Harmony giggles. “You're the slut, slut.”
Shoot To Thrill
“Oh, it's you.”
It's exactly what Xander said when he realized the future of the world rested on Harmony's shoulders. Harmony's not any gladder to hear it this time around.
“Yep, it's me,” she says, swinging the heavy sword up onto her shoulder. “Your little Harmony. Just wanted to say thanks, you know, for the eternal life thing. It's been a blast.”
He meets her attack with a sword of his own. It's kind of thrilling. She can see why the Scoobies are so into it.
She starts the Latin words, hoping she isn't accidentally ordering pancakes.
Eureka
It hits her in stages, one tiny revelation after another, until they're weighing so heavy on her that she can hardly stand it.
Maybe it's all the shrink blood, screwing with her head.
Maybe it's the fact that her insides are spilling out over her hands.
“Um. Oww.”
“Harmony. Shit.”
“Did I get him?”
She can't look.
“Yeah, you got him damn good. Don't move.”
Strong arms wrap around her.
“Faithie?”
“Yeah?”
“I like girls.”
“No shit.”
“It's not just you.”
“Tell me later.”
She hoists Harmony over her shoulder.
Everybody Hurts
This is nothing like the time Spike staked her while she just happened to be wearing the only existing piece of insurance against a sudden unexpected staking (the jerk).
This hurts, in a way dying didn't. Harmony feels her insides slowly knitting themselves back together, forcefully stretching new tissue into place. It's the creepiest feeling ever, worse than every Burger King commercial ever made.
Faith took a beating, too, although she wasn't nearly cut in half, just got a concussion and some broken bones. She's acquired a limp and a swagger. Harmony gets it. She feels pretty badass right now.
Men of Good Fortune
Spike takes her out drinking shortly after she saves the world. Harmony gets carded, of course: it's the curse of being eighteen forever, and she loves it, even if she makes a big deal out of finding her ID.
“Not a bad start, Harm,” Spike says, lifting his bottle off the bar. It hovers low in half-toast position. “Always forget how young you are, pet.”
It's got a ring of apology to it. Doctor Savage would be arching an eyebrow right about now.
“Thanks for the daiquiri,” Harm says. “And you're welcome, for saving your ass.”
Fandom: Buffy/Angel
Author:
hkathSummary: The world's last hope is Harmony Kendall. Also, she's kinda gay. And a serial killer. Harmony/Faith, of all things! IDEK. Set in a sort of eternal Angel S5.
Notes: This is 48 of my 100 drabbles for
whedonland's big bang alt challenge, on the theme "bad girls". I used up all the posted drabble themes but one in this piece, and a bunch of my song prompts (I actually ended up writing way more song prompts than necessary).Blue
“He treats me like dirt,” Harmony says, and sighs. “But he has really pretty eyes.”
“Have you told him you don’t like the way he treats you?”
Harmony tilts her head. “Sort of?”
“What was his reaction?”
“Oh, he was really nice about it.”
Doctor Savage raises her eyebrows. “What did he say, Harmony?”
Harmony thinks back. “He said… ‘Oh.’”
“A nice ‘oh’?”
Harmony bites her lip. She’s not sure she remembers anything right.
“He bought me a drink…”
“I’m sure it was a very nice drink.”
Full
Harmony’s first epiphany is that she spent her whole life hungry, bouncing from diet to diet, always trying to fit into the next size down, or to shame the other girls with her incredibly defined collarbone. Then she died, and all those worries just ended. She got to be young and sexy forever, and so what if she couldn’t gaze into a mirror to prove it?
Now she’s hungry just because. Hungry all the time, and nothing ever satisfies.
Leaving Doctor Savage’s office, Harmony thinks maybe this is what it’s like to feel full. She could get used to this.
Clean Break
Still buzzed from last night's therapy session, Harmony doesn't worry about W&H's random drug tests. She doesn't worry about anything all day, except her Minesweeper score.
“That's a bomb,” Spike says, suddenly behind her. Harmony's so relaxed she barely jumps.
“Is not,” she says, and clicks. It explodes.
“So, now that you're not doing anything...” Spike says, and gives her that look.
“Yeaaaah, I don't think so, Blondie Bear. Your little Sugarplum needs her alone time at the mo. Plus, you're kind of toxic to my growth.”
Spike just stares. Maybe smart blood makes you smarter.
American Idol
There are so many things that Harmony can't ever do now that she's a vampire. No one ever tells you about that before you become one. She can't be an Olympic beach volleyball player, for example. Not that she was on track to becoming one anyway, but it sort of sucks to have the option taken away, along with hundreds of others.
She can't go on Survivor, unless they invent some kind of all-vampire Survivor that only films at night. Or in Antactica.
All her dream careers are out of her reach. Harmony looks really good in a bikini, too.
San Andreas Fault
Sometimes things just fall apart. People too: fall right into two pieces.
Harmony isn't sorry for eating all those doctors, but she still hates herself for it - hates that she's weak that way. It feels like that part of Harmony is always there, waiting to perform its dirty sabotage on her life.
There she was on one road, and now she's on another, and that lack of control is really scary. And she has no one to talk to about it, because she killed pretty much any shrink in the Los Angeles area who took after-dark appointments.
See? Self-sabotage.
Haircut
She wakes up in chains, her wrists bound uncomfortably behind her. Her head feels like it's been squeezed between two boulders for a couple of hours, and she wishes for a minute that she was, well, whatever Lorne is, because it would be so awesome to be able to take off her head until it stopped hurting so much. Even if it meant sacrificing her milky complexion and growing a couple of icky horns.
Then she sees the guy with the axe, and her opinion on the subject changes drastically. She squeaks.
“Um, just a little off the top?”
Pirates
The first surprise is that she’s not dead. The axe clatters to the ground and Harmony opens her eyes to a cloud of stinging dust. She can just barely make out the features of the guy who saved her life: shock of dark hair, broad shoulders, eye patch.
Rescued by a sexy pirate! It’s always happening to the heroines of the books she reads, but Harmony figured it was a long shot in the real world.
Here comes my happily ever after, she thinks, and flicks her hair as best she can while chained to a big slab of marble.
Dust
When the dust clears, it’s Xander Harris peering at her from behind that eye patch. No sexy pirate, just a dorky creepster from Crappydale.
“Oh, it’s you.”
Their voices echo in the dank cave. He sounds just as delighted to see her as she is to see him. His fingers twitch around his upraised stake. Great, first Xander kills the guy who wants to cut her head off, then he kills her.
“Woah, trigger,” someone says behind Harmony. “Want to single-handedly end the world?”
Xander lowers his stake. This is how Harmony finds out that she matters.
Noise
It sounds like there's a whole hockey team in the cave, but the only person she can see is still stupid Xander. Harmony tries to twist around, but she's chained up tight. Someone's dragging a heavy rock across the floor. Someone else is rattling some heavy metal thing. Harmony tries counting heartbeats, but they keep moving around, and her head's still fuzzy. There are eight, maybe nine heartbeats. And someone without one. Someone she knows.
“Spike?”
He gets to work on her chains.
“Just had to be you, didn't it? This oughta be a bit of fun, then.”
Cold Hard Cash
Harmony's sire turns out to be some kind of psycho. She's not exactly shocked, since, you know, he did kill her. But he's more than a kill-you-in-an-alley psycho, apparently. He's a chew-your-own-fingers-off-and-replace-th
“Only someone who shares his blood can kill him,” Buffy says. “So I'm totally useless.”
“Tell me about it,” Harmony mutters. “This is so not how I thought this date would go.”
“Date?” Spike says, looking sort of freaked.
“We met on the internet.” Harmony sighs. “He said he had a boat.”
Square
“Let me get this straight: big bad wants to turn us all into mindless wifeslaves à la Stepford, and the only thing in existence with any chance of stopping him is… Harmony.”
Everyone stares at Harmony. She gives them an awkward wave.
“Anyone else having trouble accepting this? Because I’m having some serious trouble. With the accepting. Of the this.”
“The world certainly appears to be doomed.”
“Aw, G, don’t be such a square. Give the girl a chance. She might surprise you.”
Giles looks stung, but Faith just shrugs.
“Ain’t like you got any choice.”
Salt In A Wound
They all find excuses, one by one.
Buffy's well-known, she'd attract too much attention.
Giles and Andrew have research to do.
Xander isn't strong enough to protect her.
Angel and company have bigger apocalypses to worry about.
Spike's the only one who tells the truth. “Rather feed myself to a herd of feral cats one bloody chunk at a time over the course of several grueling days.” Then he shrugs. “No offense, Harm.” Like that helps.
“Guess that leaves me,” Faith says from her perch on Harmony's kitchen counter. She slaps her thighs. “Always the winner.”
Sleep
Faith’s bed looks like a bunch of distant hills in just the faint halo of light surrounding the curtains. Harmony misses her room. She misses her Betty Boop nightlight, and her unicorn pillow. She doesn’t want to save the world, anymore. She just wants to go home.
She wonders if this is what it was like for the Slayer, when she first got chosen. If so, then good, because this sucks big time.
Faith rolls over, a warm lump of legs and heartbeat and soft, slow breath.
Harmony wraps her arms around herself.
It probably wasn’t like this for Faith.
Wild Horses
They've been travelling for three days before Faith finally asks, although Harmony's pretty sure she's been wondering for a while – at least since she saw Harmony's toothbrush in the motel bathroom the first time she went to shower. But it's the notebook and fuzzy pen that finally get to her, Harmony stopping to think up a Hangman word while Faith looks on in awe.
“Right, I give. What's with the unicorns?”
Harmony shrugs, flilpping the book closed to look at the prancing unicorn on its cover.
“They look so happy,” she says. “Always cheers me up.”
Slow Show
The alarm goes off around four-thirty, the glow around the curtains already softer than full afternoon light. Harmony stays still while Faith slaps it quiet and crawls out of bed, yawning. She stops in front of the mirror, combs her fingers through her tousled hair, then strips her shirt off, stretching her arms far over her head.
One hand travels slowly to her belly. There's a scar there, a twisted old thing that Faith strokes with gentle fingers, deep in thought.
Harmony watches it all through her eyelashes, until Faith disappears into the bathroom and the shower roars to life.
Telephone
“Me and Harm are both still tickin’.” Faith holds the phone with her shoulder while she empties her bag. “’Bout you, B? What's new with the Lost Sword of Gargamel?”
She calls every single morning. Someone different answers every time.
“It’s Horkubriel. Or something.”
The Slayer’s voice is tinny. She still sounds annoyed.
“And?”
“Nothing yet. Just keep laying low for now.”
“Laying lowest,” Faith says. She stretches out on her bed and tosses the phone aside, waving Harmony over with a deck of cards. “Gin?”
They play for nickels. They both cheat.
Marshmallows
Harmony looks up from painting her nails Powerful Pink to find Faith watching, fascinated. Or horrified.
“I could do yours next.”
“Hell, no,” Faith says, but her eyes keep following Harmony’s movements.
“It could be like a sleepover! Oooh, we could get Gummy Bears and marshmallows! And we have Pay-Per-View!”
Faith looks unmoved. “We both sleeping here?”
“Yeah…”
“Then it’s already a sleepover. Bully for us.”
Harmony pouts, and Faith sighs, offering her fingers.
“Fine. Anyone asks, you threatened to stake yourself unless I let you.”
“Understood,” Harmony says with a grin.
Cowboy
When they hit Texas, Faith stops at the first gas station she sees and gets a black cowboy hat. She drives all night with it on, lips pressed into a little smirk.
It’s totally unfair. And not only because Faith’s enjoying herself while Harmony’s in mortal danger. Harmony curls up with her feet on the dashboard and pretends to sleep. Nobody ever buys her a cute hat.
Near sunrise, they park, and Faith tosses the hat onto Harmony’s lap before heading into the motel’s front office.
“Keep it warm for me.”
Wish I could, Harmony thinks, touching the brim.
Windmill
After four nights on the road without anyone trying to kill her, Harmony begs Faith for some time off from the fugtive life. It doesn't take much begging: she knows Faith is just as antsy as she is.
Their only option is a country and western bar out by the highway. There's beer in Mason jars, a mechanical bull, and a bunch of greasy-looking truckers.
Faith spends the whole night trying to get herself dared onto the bull. She eventually climbs up unprompted and makes a show of it, one arm windmilling behind her. She's mesmerizing. No one looks away.
No-Tell Motel
This place is gross even by their standards, although Faith says it's a palace compared to some places she's lived. But whatever: Harmony's lived in a sewer. This room sucks.
There's only one bed, and it's narrow and sags in the middle, pressing them together. Faith's so warm. Harmony watches her sleep, slow glance moving over Faith's lips to the soft skin of her throat. Her mouth waters, and she leans in to kiss or bite, or both.
“Keep y'teeth to y'self,” Faith mutters, showing Harmony the stake under her pillow. Harmony sighs. It's gonna be a long day.
Ninjas
This one time, back when Harmony still had a job and, like, a roof over her head that didn’t reek of hundreds of previous occupants, these ninja robots came and tried to kill everyone. One of them dressed up as Wesley’s dad and Wesley got to shoot it a whole bunch of times.
Harmony doesn’t have a dad. Oh, she had a father once, who called her a few days after her birthday every year. She has a sire, who never officially introduced himself, although she remembers his face. And she has Spike.
Sometimes Harmony is really jealous of Wesley.
Robots
After Fred died and Illyria took over, Harmony kept thinking about those ninja robots all the time.
It was partly that Illyria hung around the office all day, walking and talking like a tiny blue android from the planet Weirdo. But it was more than that: Harmony started fantasizing about being a robot.
There’d be no more pressure to think and act a certain way. She’d do what she was programmed to do. No confusion. She’d just hand over the reins to someone who knew what they were doing. She’d finally let go.
That’s when she started seeing Doctor Savage.
Circle
After Dr. Savage, she couldn’t seem to stop eating. She’d see a new doctor for a few weeks and they’d talk about her relationships or her mom or her pathological narcissism (whatever that was). Then Harmony would have a breakthrough: one clear moment of understanding about herself.
Sometimes she’d cry at first, but eventually a pure, powerful energy would fill her up. It made her feel fierce. It reminded her of what she was. It made her bite.
Nobody ever tasted as sweet as those doctors.
Afterwards, swallowing down the bitter aftertaste of failure, she’d get back on the wagon.
Humble Pie
Mornings, it's hard not to tell Faith everything. Harmony's always been a bedtime blabbermouth.
Thing is, she's not sure if she's sorry about the doctors. What she is, mostly, is jealous. She's surrounded by people with more willpower than she has, who don't need the help she does.
Harmony's not sure yet if she wants to be punished, or forgiven. Half of her wants to brag about the killings. The other keeps trying to imagine them away.
Telling Faith wouldn't feel like bragging. Faith might understand.
It's too much to risk. Losing Faith – she'd be sorry if that happened.
Opposites
She blames Spike for pretty much everything. It’s like there’s this little British voice in her head, calling her bird names she doesn’t understand. Even now that she’s working through her issues, it’s got this influence on her. How does she know if she wants something for real, or because it would piss off imaginary Spike?
Whenever Harmony looks at Faith these days, she thinks about confessing. Or kissing. One thought usually leads to the other.
Slayer and vampire. Good and evil. Brunette and natural blonde.
It’s a doomed obsession, she knows. The idea of it makes her toes curl.
Maybe We Should Fall In Love
They set out right after Xander's call about the sword of Caramel. New Orleans is hours away, and there's no time to waste.
Harmony steals a blanket off the motel bed and huddles under it like a bag lady. Once they're driving, sun low behind them, she risks poking her head out a little. Faith's hands are tense on the wheel, her eyes constantly flicking to the rearview.
Harmony takes advantage of her lack of reflection to pull faces.
“Nice,” Faith says, her mouth twitching into a smile. “You heard of peripheral vision?”
Harmony crosses her eyes, giggling.
Pantry
They keep a stash of food in the car. A cooler of blood and a duffel bag stuffed with Twinkies and beef jerky. So if a gang of vampire assassins in Hummers tries to run them off the road, leading to a terrifying six-hour chase across state lines and through downtown Lafayette, they're covered for snacks.
“This is freakin' retarded,” Faith says, tires screeching. “I should pull over and kick the shit out of these guys.”
“Please don't,” Harmony sobs.
She thought she'd like being the centre of attention for once, but it's no fun at all.
Bonfire
Near-death experiences always make her horny. That’s probably how she kept ending up with Spike, way back when. She’d been a hopeless newbie, almost-dying on a nightly basis from her total lack of survival skills. Maybe Spike and his penis just happened to be convenient. Who knows?
The car is totaled, they’re still 200 miles from where they need to be, but they’re safe. Harmony stares into an empty gas station mirror and tries to settle the fire inside her.
She’s almost succeeded when she smells Faith just outside the door. Smells her desire, and the flame surges up again.
Chill Pill
The doorknob clicks and right away Faith is pressed against her, kissing and squeezing. Harmony hops up on the rim of the rusty sink and spreads her legs, pulling them closer. Faith’s scent is intoxicating.
Harmony can’t believe this is actually happening. It’s been so long since anyone wanted her this way. Actually, she’s not sure anyone’s ever wanted her this way.
She touches Faith’s cheek, pulls back from bruising lips.
“You’re not gonna make me dress up as someone else, are you?”
Faith blinks, her swollen mouth slightly open.
They both jump when someone pounds on the door.
Frames
The door nearly busts off its hinges.
“Occupado, buddy!” Faith hollers, hands still gripping Harmony’s hips.
The whole room rattles every time a blow lands, and the frame starts to give almost immediately, wood splintering near the lock mechanism and the upper hinge. Faith kicks at the bottom of the toilet stall, dislodging paint flecks and a chunk of useless, soggy wood.
“Ooh, I know!”
Harmony totters off the edge of the sink, snatching up an ancient toilet plunger and snapping it easily in half. She tosses the plungey half to Faith just as the door flies open.
Blood
The smell of Faith’s blood hits Harmony hard. All she can see is red, a desperate hunger clawing at her. Faith sags against the gas station wall, huge gash in her side from a flung chain. They’re surrounded. A big bald vamp sniffs the air and licks his chops.
Growling, Harmony just attacks, slamming him into a gas pump and breaking it off its base, fuel flying everywhere. It’s total chaos.
Then Faith’s yanking hard on her arm, and a lighter flicks open. The last thing the bald vamp sees before bursting into flame is Faith’s boot in his face.
Car Crash
The gash in Faith's side makes it hard for her to use her right arm, so Harmony drives for a while. She's always liked driving, the speed and the sense of freedom. Not that they have much of that at the moment, just a pressing need to get to the others without losing any body parts. Faith says she isn't big on running, but right now protecting Harmony comes first.
“That was a stop sign,” Faith says, looking behind them. “And have you heard of a turn signal?”
“Don't be such a square,” Harmony says, and accelerates.
We're Comin' To Kill Ya
Faith has to ditch her cell phone, actually smash it with her boot heel by the side of the road, like this is a movie. It's exciting, and also really scary. Five minutes ago they got a text message that said Kill u soon and then showed their exact coordinates, which Faith figured out from the GPS in the car.
So they're not taking any chances. They smash the GPS, too, and search the car.
Harmony's freaked, but she's also oddly proud of her vampire brethren. So many vamps fail to embrace technology for the awesome convenience that it is.
Half
You know when they say something isn't half bad? Harmony’s started thinking about herself that way. She tried, and she couldn’t be all the way bad or all the way good. Maybe that’s okay. Maybe she can just exist in between.
The car’s quiet. It’s time to tell.
“Faith? I ate my therapist. In L.A. Then I ate a bunch of other therapists. I don’t know why.”
Faith’s glances over. “Okay...”
“I’m not sorry. And I’m on probation, so don’t tell?”
Faith's eyebrows do weird things. Harmony swallows.
“But I think I shouldn't kill people anymore.”
Shut Up And Kiss Me
Harmony's kind of expecting Faith to kick her out of the car after her confession, but she doesn't. Instead, she pulls into the next town, even though it's only midnight, and she finds a motel and gets them a room. Harmony stays in the car, worried. She only follows after Faith has disappeared inside.
Faith's over by the TV, but when the door shuts she takes two long steps, cups Harmony's face in her warm hands, and touches their lips together.
Harmony gasps. “What's that for?”
“For changing,” Faith says, kissing her again. “For wanting to change.”
Agreement
“Faithie?”
“No.”
“Can I call you Sweetie?”
“No.”
“But-”
“Don't call me Sweetie, don't call me Faithie. Don't call me anything. Just sleep, Harm. I'm freakin' tired.”
“Can't. Too scared. What if I forget what to do? Or we're late for the end of the world? I don't want to die again, Faithie. Dying felt really bad the first time around.”
“Harmony-”
“Sorry! Sorry! I won't call you that anymore.”
Faith shifts under the blankets, wrapping Harmony in the warmth of her arms.
“It's okay. Call me what you want.”
Darkness
Darkness makes it easier to talk.
“I can’t go home, can I?”
Faith rolls onto her side, shifting the whole bed.
“That’s real deep.”
Harmony holds her hand in front of her face, stares at the separation between dark and darker.
“They’re gonna find those bodies, and Angel’s gonna know I broke probation.”
“How?”
“They have my teethprints on file. Fingerprints. DNA. Scent signature. Brainwave frequency.”
“Daaamn.”
“Plus, I kinda marked them in my day-planner.”
Faith scoffs. “What, did you rate them?”
Harmony shrugs. “I just wanted to remember the dates.”
Centre
When they meet up in New Orleans, Buffy makes this big deal out of being charitable and giving Faith a break from her vampire-sitting duties. Harmony’s stomach starts to sink. Of course it was just adrenaline or whatever. Faith would never kiss her on purpose.
But Faith shrugs and says, “No big, B. We’re used to each other by now.” She gives Harmony her smallest, quickest smile.
Later, when Faith’s hot wet fingers are finding the very core of her, Harmony remembers that smile and it makes her tremble. She swears she feels her heart gives a little lurch.
Dirty Whirl
Harmony died a virgin, but she's had her fair share of sex since then. Granted, none of it was with a warm body, but she thought she'd done pretty well for herself, conquest-wise. But this? This is something else.
Faith's body opens to her, sleak thighs falling languidly against the rumpled cheeks. Her body rocks forward, surging into Harmony's touch, her clit pulsing with warmth first under Harmony's fingers and then under her tongue as she gives into the desire to taste.
Faith shudders and moans, and when Harmony uses the edges of her blunt human teeth, she practically gyrates.
Fairy Tale
Spike used to call her princess, but in this sarcastic way that made her feel like an ornament on a shelf instead of a person. When Faith calls her beautiful, it’s different than that. Maybe because Faith has seen all her ugliest bits, her secrets.
Tonight, Harmony’s going to face her sire for only the second time ever. She’s going to try to save the world. She will probably fail. Her track record tells her so. But it’s okay.
She’s finally figured out what she’s been doing wrong all this time. She’s not a princess at all; she’s a prince.
Variety Pack
“What do you want?” Faith says, pawing through the cooler. “I got O-neg, B-neg and AB-positive.”
“You got me human?” Harmony squeals, bouncing across the room and squeezing Faith so hard her shoulders creak.
“They were fresh outta goat. Anyway, I figure you're gonna need your strength, big showdown coming up.”
Harmony's face falls.
“Is this my Spaghetti-Os?”
“Huh?”
“My last meal! It is, isn't it? You don't believe in me! You think I'm gonna die!”
Faith leans back, arms crossed.
“You gonna let that stop you?”
“... No?”
“Atta girl.”
Chocolate Salty Balls
After two bags of blood and a long, hot shower, Harmony curls up to watch some Project Runway and not think about anything. Faith putters around the room, changes her shirt. Harmony purrs as she takes in the golden skin of Faith's back and shoulders.
She dozes for a while, wakes up to screechy cartoons and Faith's gravelly voice, giggling. Faith's bare legs are curled under her and she's eating Cheetos out of the bag, wiping her orange fingers on the edge of the motel comforter.
Harmony beams. “You do have sleepover experience!”
Faith might be her dream girl.
Foreign Language
Beheading her sire might end up being the easy part. Harmony’s pretty sure she’ll never be able to memorize this incantation they want her to say before doing it. Aside from holding court as reigning bitch queen of Sunnydale High, she’s never done much public speaking, and these words are total gibberish. Giles called it Latin, but Harmony’s skeptical. She’s known some Latin-American people. They don’t talk like this.
“Don’t look at me,” Faith says. “Tenth grade dropout, here.” Then she frowns, reconsidering. “Well, I did do the altar girl gig. You know what? Give it here.”
Secret Lovers
Giles has the room next door, and Buffy and Xander are sharing on the other side.
Spike is around somewhere, with his superhearing and his super sense of smell and his uncanny ability to see everything. And his other two senses, which he could also probably use to deduce that Harmony and Faith are sleeping together.
If Harmony can hear these people, make out every heartbeat and wheeze and stomach gurgle, then they'll certainly be able to hear the bed bouncing around.
“S'wrong?” Faith teases. “Scared they'll call you a slut?”
Harmony giggles. “You're the slut, slut.”
Shoot To Thrill
“Oh, it's you.”
It's exactly what Xander said when he realized the future of the world rested on Harmony's shoulders. Harmony's not any gladder to hear it this time around.
“Yep, it's me,” she says, swinging the heavy sword up onto her shoulder. “Your little Harmony. Just wanted to say thanks, you know, for the eternal life thing. It's been a blast.”
He meets her attack with a sword of his own. It's kind of thrilling. She can see why the Scoobies are so into it.
She starts the Latin words, hoping she isn't accidentally ordering pancakes.
Eureka
It hits her in stages, one tiny revelation after another, until they're weighing so heavy on her that she can hardly stand it.
Maybe it's all the shrink blood, screwing with her head.
Maybe it's the fact that her insides are spilling out over her hands.
“Um. Oww.”
“Harmony. Shit.”
“Did I get him?”
She can't look.
“Yeah, you got him damn good. Don't move.”
Strong arms wrap around her.
“Faithie?”
“Yeah?”
“I like girls.”
“No shit.”
“It's not just you.”
“Tell me later.”
She hoists Harmony over her shoulder.
Everybody Hurts
This is nothing like the time Spike staked her while she just happened to be wearing the only existing piece of insurance against a sudden unexpected staking (the jerk).
This hurts, in a way dying didn't. Harmony feels her insides slowly knitting themselves back together, forcefully stretching new tissue into place. It's the creepiest feeling ever, worse than every Burger King commercial ever made.
Faith took a beating, too, although she wasn't nearly cut in half, just got a concussion and some broken bones. She's acquired a limp and a swagger. Harmony gets it. She feels pretty badass right now.
Men of Good Fortune
Spike takes her out drinking shortly after she saves the world. Harmony gets carded, of course: it's the curse of being eighteen forever, and she loves it, even if she makes a big deal out of finding her ID.
“Not a bad start, Harm,” Spike says, lifting his bottle off the bar. It hovers low in half-toast position. “Always forget how young you are, pet.”
It's got a ring of apology to it. Doctor Savage would be arching an eyebrow right about now.
“Thanks for the daiquiri,” Harm says. “And you're welcome, for saving your ass.”
