Fic: Sorry to Burst Your Bubble 5/24 (Harry/Perry/Harmony, PG-13)
Whoops, sorry guys, forgot to post the next chapters when I put them up at my journal! I'll get caught up, but I'm going to space them out just a bit. :) Enjoy!
Title: Sorry to Burst Your Bubble
Summary: In which Perry has no sense of personal space, Harry is flexible, and Harmony doesn’t really mind.
Word Count: 1,657
Rating: PG-13 for language and adult themes. Perry/Harry/Harmony
Disclaimer: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and all characters therein © Shane Black and Co. Detective McAdams is a character of my own creation.
The phone call kept echoing in her ears as she drove, struggling to restrain herself to the speed limit. “Harmony, listen, I need you to come pick us up,” Perry had said, and that alone had been enough to set her on edge. If they needed her assistance on a case, even if it was simply playing chauffeur, Perry always made arrangements ahead of time. He only ever called her into the middle of a case if something had gone wrong.
They were just supposed to tail some teenager around today. The parents suspected he was hanging around with an older woman who may or may not be taking advantage of him. It should hardly merit an emergency backup call.
Perry’s business voice always made it hard to tell what he was feeling. He had sounded rushed on the phone, but was as cool and efficient as ever. He gave her the cross-streets and had hung up before she could find out what was wrong.
When Harmony found them, Harry was sitting on the curb with his head in his hands. Perry was looming over him with a murderous expression, looking like some kind of psychotic bodyguard, and Harmony would have laughed had she been unaware that that was basically what he was at the moment.
Harry raised his head to squint at her when she pulled up and climbed out of the car. There was a bloody lump on his temple.
Harmony shut the door and came around the front of the car. “What the hell happened?” she demanded, appalled.
“The goddamn kid made us,” Perry grumbled, “He and some of his ass-bitch friends were waiting for us.” Harry grinned that half-chagrined, half-sardonic grin he was so good at, nodding at Perry’s explanation. Harmony frowned and gently took his face in her hands, tilting his head to get a better look.
“Hey, hey,” he said, wincing when she gingerly felt around the wound “I’m okay, honey, you really don’t - ow! Shit, I said I’m okay!”
“No, you’re not,” Perry scowled. “The little punk hit you in the head with a baseball bat. Of course you’re not okay, now shut up. Harmony, can you drive us over to the hospital? And then I need to call McAdams and report that son of a bitch for assault and battery, among other things.”
She looked between them, trying to get her head around the situation. “Jesus, you guys! Of course I can,” she said quickly.
She and Perry each took one of Harry’s arms and hauled him up, ignoring his protests. “Hey, come on, I’m fine. I don’t need the hospital. Just take me home and let me pop a few Advil and I’ll be cool.”
“Oh stop whining already, Harry. We’re going!” she chided, but there was no bite to her words. Harry was slurring a bit, and he was slow on his feet. Harmony wrapped his arm around her shoulders for extra support. She stole a quick look at Perry, but he didn’t exchange the worried glance with her - he was too busy directing it at Harry, concerned eyes locked on his partner.
They made it to the car and Perry opened the side door. They helped Harry in and let him wave them off so he could prove his own competence by buckling his own seatbelt. Harmony moved around to the driver’s seat and Perry climbed into the back. Neither of them mentioned how Harry’s safety belt was twisted around, so as to spare his pride.
“What the hell happened, anyway? I thought this kid was supposed to be the victim?” She checked the mirror and carefully pulled out into traffic.
Harry didn’t say anything, sagging down in his seat and eyes roving over the passing street dizzily. Perry was slouched nearly as much in the back seat, massaging his wrist. He wouldn’t take his eyes off Harry’s dark hair peeking over the headrest. “Turns out the little brat wasn’t involved with that woman, he’s involved with her son and his gang. Shit, I should’ve realized. I should’ve figured it out sooner and called McAdams in and pulled out. I hate getting involved with all this gang bullshit.”
Harmony frowned. Perry didn’t usually shoulder the blame like this. Self-deprecation didn’t suit him at all. “Hey Perry,” she said, hoping to distract him, “not that I wouldn’t give you guys a lift anyways, but what’s wrong with your car?”
Another glance at the mirror revealed the detective’s scowl darkening in rage. “Little punk-ass shitheads fucking slashed my fucking tires,” he seethed.
Harmony raised her eyebrows. Not only had the idiot purposely hurt Harry, he had damaged Perry’s beloved Mercedes. He had better have a really good hiding place, she thought, if he didn’t want to die a very painful young death.
Then she glanced at Harry slouching in the passenger seat with a hand blocking the light from his aching head, and decided the brat deserved whatever Perry was planning for him.
She stopped at a red light. Harry made a sound and shifted, twisting around to peek at Perry in the back seat. “Hey,” he said, briefly pausing to wet his lips with his tongue, “Hey, Perry, you were hurt too... How’s your wrist feeling?”
Perry promptly dropped his hand to his lap. “It’s fine, Harry,” he frowned. “You look kind of pale. Are you doing okay?”
Harry blinked slowly at him. “Feel a bit sick. Your wrist-”
Perry cut him off. “If you’re feeling nauseous then turn around and face the windshield, dipshit.” Harry hesitated, then squirmed his way facing forwards again with a groan, his hand coming up to block the light again. Harmony cracked the window open a bit to give him some fresh air. “We’re almost there, guys, just hang on.”
---
That night, they set up in the living room to watch a movie. Harry fell asleep about twenty minutes in, sliding sideways until his head hit Perry’s shoulder. He looked down, a little startled. Harmony watched Perry squirm for a minute, her smile widening when she realized he wasn’t uncomfortable - merely uncertain. “Let him sleep a bit,” she said. “We can wake him up in a bit, but let him sleep for now.”
“He’s going to wake up with a crick in his neck,” Perry grumbled, frowning down at the dark head on his shoulder.
“Here,” she said. She stood up from her armchair and approached the couch. The two of them together managed to shift Harry’s limp form into a more comfortable position, Perry sitting up and Harry nestled down with his head in Perry’s lap. The brunette let out a sleepy murmur and curled in closer, and Perry couldn’t quite hide his fond smile, his now-splinted hand resting gently on the other man’s shoulder. Harmony turned around so he couldn’t see her own slightly sad smile, sweeping the afghan of the back of the sofa and draping it over Harry.
She started to move back to her armchair, but Perry reached out with his good arm to snag her hand and tug her back onto the couch next to him. Harmony sighed and snuggled up to Perry’s right side. He wrapped and arm around her and pulled her in close. “Hey, stop thinking so hard. Harry will be fine, it’s just a small concussion.”
Harmony quirked a smile against his warm chest and nodded, and he gave her shoulder a squeeze. If he had been able to see her face, he would’ve seen the sadness still lingering. She was concerned for Harry, yes, but that was not what was troubling her. She shifted in closer against her friend and looked down at his lap, at his hand stroking at the soft hair behind Harry’s ear. She eyed the splint on his wrist, blue plastic and black elastic bandaging holding the limb steady. Harry told her that Perry had blocked a second blow from the baseball bat aimed at his head, taking the hit in Harry’s place. Perry’s fingers peeked out the end of the brace like a turtle peeking out of its shell, stroking lightly at the short dark strands. His touch was so gentle.
She thought back to a few weeks ago, and that case at the gay club where they had almost been caught. Harry had been so flushed when they finally entered the car, and Perry had looked far too pleased with himself. Harry had done his best to carry on as normal, but he couldn’t seem to look at Perry for a few days afterwards - at least, not in her presence.
As for Perry, more than once she had noticed him watching Harry closely, his eyes calculating, but so soft - as soft as his touch was now. It made her nervous, the way Perry looked at Harry. And the way Harry reacted to Perry... it made her curious about what was coming. Curious and apprehensive. Situations like this had a bad habit of exploding in her face.
Something exploded. She gasped slightly as her eyes jerked back up to the TV screen. Cars were speeding down a stretch of road, forcing each other off the path with bursts of machine gun fire. She blinked at the television while Perry snickered at her for jumping. He was quiet, trying to stave off the worst of the laughter so as not to disturb the sleeping man in his lap, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
“Oh shut up,” she said, smacking him lightly. He shook his head and pulled her more firmly against his side. He stretched his neck down and she could feel him smiling against her hair before kissing her there, on the top of her head, like she was a frightened schoolgirl.
And strangely enough, she did feel comforted, less nervous. Because as long as the three of them stuck together, she was sure they could figure everything out.
Title: Sorry to Burst Your Bubble
Summary: In which Perry has no sense of personal space, Harry is flexible, and Harmony doesn’t really mind.
Word Count: 1,657
Rating: PG-13 for language and adult themes. Perry/Harry/Harmony
Disclaimer: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and all characters therein © Shane Black and Co. Detective McAdams is a character of my own creation.
The phone call kept echoing in her ears as she drove, struggling to restrain herself to the speed limit. “Harmony, listen, I need you to come pick us up,” Perry had said, and that alone had been enough to set her on edge. If they needed her assistance on a case, even if it was simply playing chauffeur, Perry always made arrangements ahead of time. He only ever called her into the middle of a case if something had gone wrong.
They were just supposed to tail some teenager around today. The parents suspected he was hanging around with an older woman who may or may not be taking advantage of him. It should hardly merit an emergency backup call.
Perry’s business voice always made it hard to tell what he was feeling. He had sounded rushed on the phone, but was as cool and efficient as ever. He gave her the cross-streets and had hung up before she could find out what was wrong.
When Harmony found them, Harry was sitting on the curb with his head in his hands. Perry was looming over him with a murderous expression, looking like some kind of psychotic bodyguard, and Harmony would have laughed had she been unaware that that was basically what he was at the moment.
Harry raised his head to squint at her when she pulled up and climbed out of the car. There was a bloody lump on his temple.
Harmony shut the door and came around the front of the car. “What the hell happened?” she demanded, appalled.
“The goddamn kid made us,” Perry grumbled, “He and some of his ass-bitch friends were waiting for us.” Harry grinned that half-chagrined, half-sardonic grin he was so good at, nodding at Perry’s explanation. Harmony frowned and gently took his face in her hands, tilting his head to get a better look.
“Hey, hey,” he said, wincing when she gingerly felt around the wound “I’m okay, honey, you really don’t - ow! Shit, I said I’m okay!”
“No, you’re not,” Perry scowled. “The little punk hit you in the head with a baseball bat. Of course you’re not okay, now shut up. Harmony, can you drive us over to the hospital? And then I need to call McAdams and report that son of a bitch for assault and battery, among other things.”
She looked between them, trying to get her head around the situation. “Jesus, you guys! Of course I can,” she said quickly.
She and Perry each took one of Harry’s arms and hauled him up, ignoring his protests. “Hey, come on, I’m fine. I don’t need the hospital. Just take me home and let me pop a few Advil and I’ll be cool.”
“Oh stop whining already, Harry. We’re going!” she chided, but there was no bite to her words. Harry was slurring a bit, and he was slow on his feet. Harmony wrapped his arm around her shoulders for extra support. She stole a quick look at Perry, but he didn’t exchange the worried glance with her - he was too busy directing it at Harry, concerned eyes locked on his partner.
They made it to the car and Perry opened the side door. They helped Harry in and let him wave them off so he could prove his own competence by buckling his own seatbelt. Harmony moved around to the driver’s seat and Perry climbed into the back. Neither of them mentioned how Harry’s safety belt was twisted around, so as to spare his pride.
“What the hell happened, anyway? I thought this kid was supposed to be the victim?” She checked the mirror and carefully pulled out into traffic.
Harry didn’t say anything, sagging down in his seat and eyes roving over the passing street dizzily. Perry was slouched nearly as much in the back seat, massaging his wrist. He wouldn’t take his eyes off Harry’s dark hair peeking over the headrest. “Turns out the little brat wasn’t involved with that woman, he’s involved with her son and his gang. Shit, I should’ve realized. I should’ve figured it out sooner and called McAdams in and pulled out. I hate getting involved with all this gang bullshit.”
Harmony frowned. Perry didn’t usually shoulder the blame like this. Self-deprecation didn’t suit him at all. “Hey Perry,” she said, hoping to distract him, “not that I wouldn’t give you guys a lift anyways, but what’s wrong with your car?”
Another glance at the mirror revealed the detective’s scowl darkening in rage. “Little punk-ass shitheads fucking slashed my fucking tires,” he seethed.
Harmony raised her eyebrows. Not only had the idiot purposely hurt Harry, he had damaged Perry’s beloved Mercedes. He had better have a really good hiding place, she thought, if he didn’t want to die a very painful young death.
Then she glanced at Harry slouching in the passenger seat with a hand blocking the light from his aching head, and decided the brat deserved whatever Perry was planning for him.
She stopped at a red light. Harry made a sound and shifted, twisting around to peek at Perry in the back seat. “Hey,” he said, briefly pausing to wet his lips with his tongue, “Hey, Perry, you were hurt too... How’s your wrist feeling?”
Perry promptly dropped his hand to his lap. “It’s fine, Harry,” he frowned. “You look kind of pale. Are you doing okay?”
Harry blinked slowly at him. “Feel a bit sick. Your wrist-”
Perry cut him off. “If you’re feeling nauseous then turn around and face the windshield, dipshit.” Harry hesitated, then squirmed his way facing forwards again with a groan, his hand coming up to block the light again. Harmony cracked the window open a bit to give him some fresh air. “We’re almost there, guys, just hang on.”
---
That night, they set up in the living room to watch a movie. Harry fell asleep about twenty minutes in, sliding sideways until his head hit Perry’s shoulder. He looked down, a little startled. Harmony watched Perry squirm for a minute, her smile widening when she realized he wasn’t uncomfortable - merely uncertain. “Let him sleep a bit,” she said. “We can wake him up in a bit, but let him sleep for now.”
“He’s going to wake up with a crick in his neck,” Perry grumbled, frowning down at the dark head on his shoulder.
“Here,” she said. She stood up from her armchair and approached the couch. The two of them together managed to shift Harry’s limp form into a more comfortable position, Perry sitting up and Harry nestled down with his head in Perry’s lap. The brunette let out a sleepy murmur and curled in closer, and Perry couldn’t quite hide his fond smile, his now-splinted hand resting gently on the other man’s shoulder. Harmony turned around so he couldn’t see her own slightly sad smile, sweeping the afghan of the back of the sofa and draping it over Harry.
She started to move back to her armchair, but Perry reached out with his good arm to snag her hand and tug her back onto the couch next to him. Harmony sighed and snuggled up to Perry’s right side. He wrapped and arm around her and pulled her in close. “Hey, stop thinking so hard. Harry will be fine, it’s just a small concussion.”
Harmony quirked a smile against his warm chest and nodded, and he gave her shoulder a squeeze. If he had been able to see her face, he would’ve seen the sadness still lingering. She was concerned for Harry, yes, but that was not what was troubling her. She shifted in closer against her friend and looked down at his lap, at his hand stroking at the soft hair behind Harry’s ear. She eyed the splint on his wrist, blue plastic and black elastic bandaging holding the limb steady. Harry told her that Perry had blocked a second blow from the baseball bat aimed at his head, taking the hit in Harry’s place. Perry’s fingers peeked out the end of the brace like a turtle peeking out of its shell, stroking lightly at the short dark strands. His touch was so gentle.
She thought back to a few weeks ago, and that case at the gay club where they had almost been caught. Harry had been so flushed when they finally entered the car, and Perry had looked far too pleased with himself. Harry had done his best to carry on as normal, but he couldn’t seem to look at Perry for a few days afterwards - at least, not in her presence.
As for Perry, more than once she had noticed him watching Harry closely, his eyes calculating, but so soft - as soft as his touch was now. It made her nervous, the way Perry looked at Harry. And the way Harry reacted to Perry... it made her curious about what was coming. Curious and apprehensive. Situations like this had a bad habit of exploding in her face.
Something exploded. She gasped slightly as her eyes jerked back up to the TV screen. Cars were speeding down a stretch of road, forcing each other off the path with bursts of machine gun fire. She blinked at the television while Perry snickered at her for jumping. He was quiet, trying to stave off the worst of the laughter so as not to disturb the sleeping man in his lap, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
“Oh shut up,” she said, smacking him lightly. He shook his head and pulled her more firmly against his side. He stretched his neck down and she could feel him smiling against her hair before kissing her there, on the top of her head, like she was a frightened schoolgirl.
And strangely enough, she did feel comforted, less nervous. Because as long as the three of them stuck together, she was sure they could figure everything out.