"Just be you." He lay beside her again, pulling her against him and letting his warmth wrap around her. "Just be Harmony."
_________
That night patrol was destined to be boring. Lance was stuck at the office with paperwork and she was covering for one of the officers who had taken off for family concerns. The dark surrounded her, cocooned her, and left her with too much time to think.
Just be Harmony. Not for the first time, she wondered who Harmony was. As she made her way through the quiet streets of the main section of Broken Butte, Harmony frowned at the thought.
She had always known who Death was; there was no question there. Death was vengeance. She was the shadow that slid through the night and brought justice to those the law had somehow missed.
She was dark, wrathful, cold and merciless. She didn't regret and she had no second thoughts. As she came to a stop at a red light, she frowned into the lamplit street. But who was Harmony?
She had taken the name as a lark. Harmony Lancaster. Harmony, because that was what was left in Death's wake. Lancaster was the name of the street where she had taken the last innocent life she had allowed the Council to foist on her. That night was engraved on her memory, stamped into it with the force of a burning brand.
"Let me help you. I can, I can get you to safety." The woman had watched her with such compassion, such fierce determination that Harmony had almost believed it was true. But her Trainer had warned her that the operative was a master at deceit. At fourteen, trained as Death, she had known only what the "proof" had given her. And that proof marked this woman as a vindictive peddler of juveniles. A woman who ripped innocent children from their homes and sold them to the highest bidder.
"Let me help you." A trembling hand had reached out to Death. "Let me get you to safety."
Death had struck. She gripped the woman's hand, using it as leverage, and let her knife answer for her. She had followed her Trainer's orders, but as she watched the woman crumple lifelessly to the ground, she knew she had shed innocent blood. Harmony shook the memory from her mind before it could tear through her soul as it did each time she allowed it free. The woman she had killed had been a CIA agent investigating the shadowy group known as the Genetics Council. She had a husband and a child. She had been one of the good guys, and Death had taken her life. As the light turned green, Harmony turned up another well-lit street, her gaze searching the shadows as she pa-trolled the quiet. Lights blazed from within the houses; some residents still sat on their porches enjoying the late evening air. The scent of barbecues drifted in the air, and the laughter of children.
This was what Lance fought for. The peace that echoed here, that drifted through the half-lowered windows and wrapped around her.
This was what the agent had fought for as well.
Shaking her head, she pulled onto Community Street. The full block held the community center, ball courts, a tennis court and a public pool that had closed for the night. The lights within the basketball court were still on though, as were the tennis courts', and both were in use.
She pulled the Raider to a stop as she watched the young men play, laughter and teasing insults drifting to her.
"Hey, man, that was just a sissy throw," one youth laughed as he caught the ball. "Let me show you how it's done."
He fumbled the ball, to the delight of his friends and the one who stole it from his hands.
"Man. That is so wrong." Laughter, happiness.
Death had no place here, but Harmony could feel the peace of it wrapping around her. She leaned against the steering wheel, watching the game, a smile pulling at her lips as the boys postured and groaned, grunted and playfully struggled as all young men do when challenging one another.
It wasn't much different than the young male cubs at the labs, she realized. There had been moments between training sessions when they were allowed to rest beneath the warmth of the sun as a gentle breeze played around them. And they had laughed, teased one another and tested their strength. And sometimes they hadn't been punished for it.
She sighed as she rested her chin against the hands that gripped the steering wheel. She had never played. She had never laughed and tested herself in such a teasing way.
"Unit four, is everything okay?" Lenny, the eagle eye watching the unit displays at the office, came over the communications link in the dash.
"Just watching a game, Lenny," she reported as she straightened in her seat. "The boys are out at the community court."
"They're too young for you, Deputy." Lance's teasing voice replaced Lenny's. Harmony smiled, though she found she wanted to laugh.
"That's affirmative, Sheriff," she drawled, for once, refusing to fight the warmth rising inside her.
She couldn't fight him. She had known last night that her own personal battle to deny the bonding between them was over.
"I'm heading out," she reported. "So far everything's quiet. Is it ever not quiet?"
"Oh, we have the occasional fire, fistfight and rocking family dispute," Lance assured her. "They save most of them for the weekends though."
She shook her head. She had answered a call to an attempted burglary that turned out to be a raccoon, and a dispute between a would-be Lothario and the parents of the young girl he was courting. Not that there hadn't been trouble in other areas, just not in her area. Yet.
"I'm going to finish my round then head in. Reports." She grimaced at the paperwork waiting for her back at the office. "Maybe I should try meter maid tomorrow. I bet they don't fill out paperwork."
"You'd be surprised." Lance chuckled. "See you when you get in. Control out."