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066. HOUDINI

Houdini.

With each minute ticking by as she stood alone in the shower, Rory wondered if Harry had taken his new nickname to heart. She only used that name earlier to tease him - the last thing she wanted was for him to embody it.

She didn't know exactly how much time had passed. But, considering she was going through her shower routine very slowly and was nearing the end, Rory knew he had been gone for an unusually long time. 

Maybe one of the boys needed something, she thought to herself, attempting to ease her mind. He's fine. Daddy Harry was just called for duty.

Running her fingers through her hair, Rory inhaled a deep breath. 

It's fine. Everything is fine.

Rory typically used a shower to rid her body and mind of that panicking, chest-tightening feeling - something about standing under hot water somehow always did the trick. It wasn't a perfect remedy, but it did enough to suppress, and sometimes heal, the feeling. However, she wasn't used to it festering while standing under the water.

The shower walls surrounding her no longer feel like a safe box - it started to feel contristing.

Stop. Just calm down. Focusing her attention on the tiled wall before her, she concentrated on her breathing. Don't watch the door. Just relax. Harry is fine.

No matter how many times she tried convincing herself, there was nothing as relieving as the sound of the shower door opening behind her.

"There you are," Rory said, a smile tugging on her lips, "I was starting to worry you disappeared on me again, Houdini."

Expecting his entrance to end the loneliness and fear thickening the air, Rory was left confused. The relief she felt moments ago evaporated so quickly that she wondered if it had been there at all. She at least expected a rebuttal over the nickname - although she quickly regretted the use, fearing it may speak it into existence.

Cautiously turning her head, she looked at the man near the glass door. Her chest tightened, breath catching in her throat, as she met his glance. Standing before her was a man she knew but hardly recognized. They had met a few times before; it had been so long that Rory had forgotten this side of him existed.

"What's wrong?"

Harry immediately shook his head at the question. "Nothing."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Insult me by acting like I don't know you, Harry."

Watching him, she noted how his brows knit together, and his attention drifted to the tiled floor. Something was wrong, but what that was, she didn't know. And by the looks of things, Harry didn't either.

Stepping forward, a silent gasp escaped as she caught a better look at him. It wasn't until she was up close that Rory realized she hadn't met this version of him before. It wasn't darkness behind his eyes – it was fear.

"Harry-"

"I can't." His brows furrowed, face contorting with pain. "I can't talk yet."

"You don't have to."

Rory could tell Harry wore a facade - shielding her from seeing the pain that coated his eyes. But she knew him far too well by now. He couldn't hide this pain from her.

She took another cautious step forward and softly said, "Just tell me what you need. If you want some time alone, I can go-"

"Please don't." Harry looked up and met her glance. "I need you."

"You have me," she assured, "Always."

A wave of relief, a feeling that stuck around this time, filled her chest. She didn't want to leave him alone but didn't want to force her presence upon him either. Rory hated admitting it, but she didn't know how to make things better. 

Harry always knew what to say or do to make her feel better, and Rory worried she wouldn't be able to do the same. It wasn't like there was a manual lying around on how to handle a brainwashed assassin robot boyfriend - B.A.R.B. for short.

Reaching for his hand, Rory guided Harry further into the shower. She thought about the first shower they had taken together back at her apartment - all that time ago when Harry was still pretending to hate her. There was barely enough room for one person, let alone two. Now in a space Rory was convinced could hold a dozen people, they were still standing just as closely together as they did in her shower.

A smile tugged on her lips, watching Harry use the hand not holding hers to test the water. "Is the temperature okay?"

Harry tilted his head back to wet his hair. "It's nice." His eyes closed as he added a quiet, "Feels relaxing."

"Sometimes a warm shower is just what you need."

Brushing the wet hair from his face, Harry turned his head back down, allowing their eyes to meet. Rory released a silent breath of relief. The emerald green colour was beginning to return, softening the darkness that coated his eyes seconds ago. She was thankful for him coming back so quickly - although her thoughts hurt trying to understand how she could miss someone standing in front of her the entire time.

"Harry?"

"Mm?"

"I need my hand for a second," she said, raising the one held by his firm grip.

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled.

The second his hand released hers, he placed it on her waist. It comforted him to touch her. A hand on her waist or holding hers helped Harry remember she was there. Sometimes, even when aware, Harry forgot to remember the calm.

The calmness he felt wasn't imaginary. She physically stood in front of him.

Rory gestured to the shampoo bottle and asked, "Can I do this for you? You always do it for me, and it feels nice, so I thought you might like it too."

She swore a hint of a smile tugged on the corners of his mouth.

"I'd like that." Watching her squirt the bottle's contents into her hands, his chest suddenly tightened. As Rory took a step to the side and went to move around to his backside, he squeezed her hip. "Can you stay here?" he blurted out. "In front of me, I mean."

Shuffling back, cautiously moving her feet against the tiled floor, she instantly replied, "Of course."

Rory may have found the request a bit different in any other situation. But she didn't dare question it, nor did she care to. Harry was voicing what he needed, and that's all that mattered to her.

"I'm right here, Harry," she reminded him, raising her hands to his hair. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," his voice was a mere whisper, "I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't." She ran her fingers through his hair before moving her attention down either side of his head and to the back of his scalp. "Don't apologize, Harry. There's nothing to be sorry for."

"But I'm making you stand in a weird position."

Rory shrugged off the remark. "It's not weird. This way, I can make sure I don't get any shampoo in your eyes by accident," she teased, "Besides, now I get to look in your pretty green eyes instead of the back of your head."

As her hands worked near the nape of his neck, she could feel the knots in his muscles. "I'll work on that later," she said before returning her hands to his long locks. After finishing with his hair, she turned her attention to the rest of his body. "You're still tense," she commented, running a washcloth over his shoulders and chest. "Is there anything else I can do to help you feel better?"

"No. You're already doing more than enough," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

They stood just like that for quite some time. All he truly needed was her. And having her close by, combined with the warm water coating his skin from head to toe, was the perfect mix. Relaxation seemed attainable this way. Her comment about his tensed muscles almost made him laugh a handful of times as it replayed in his head. If she thought his body was tense now, she should see what he was like without her presence.

The water started turning cold, signalling their time had ended. Harry appeared at peace with the decision as he turned off the water. Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a dry towel and handed it to her before getting one for himself and wrapping it around his waist.

Harry kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you."

Leading the way to the dresser, while Rory pulled out their clothes, Harry kept his arm hooked around the back of her waist. She didn't mind. If it kept him stayed comforted, that's all that mattered. Besides, it wasn't like she would complain about having him near. 

The only time they spent apart was putting on their clothes. Rory changed into a pair of cotton sleep shorts and one of his white shirts, while Harry opted for just a pair of sweatpants.

Although she showed him a smile, Rory still wasn't satisfied. She could still see hints of darkness hidden in the specs of his eyes. And the last thing she wanted was for him to go to bed feeling this way.

"Can I try something that I think might help?"

Receiving a nod, she took his hand and led the way to the vanity. Motioning to the chair, she instructed him with a "sit" and turned her attention to the drawers, pulling out all the necessities. She could feel his hand on the back of her leg, keeping his touch close at all times as he did in the shower. Thankfully, all the products she needed were within arm's reach, meaning Harry didn't have to drop his touch - except for one product that she overly stretched her arm out to get.

"What are you getting all that stuff out for?" Harry asked, pointing to the numerous vials and containers on the countertop.

"Sometimes, when I'm feeling a bit down or foggy in my head, I find doing skincare can help. So, I thought maybe you'd like it too." She shrugged. "It's okay if you don't want to-"

"I want to," he quickly interrupted.

Her face lit up. "You do?"

"Of course. I'm honoured you'd want to use all your products on me."

"Well, some of them are just extras - you know, for fun. But first," she grabbed the only non-face product off the counter, "you need to put this on!"

Looking at the patterned fabric in her hands, Harry's brow furrowed. "What is that?"

"A headband." Rory reached her hand forward and tucked his hair behind his ears. "There we go, and now," she slipped on the headband over his head and pulled it past his forehead until it rested comfortably, "Oh my god! You look adorable!"

As Rory moved to the side, Harry caught sight of himself in the mirror's reflection. He couldn't help but let out a constrained laugh under his breath at the cow-patterned headband. 

She going to turn me into Pebbles the Moo-Moo one day, he thought to himself, adjusting the black and white bow.

Although it wasn't his usual choice for an accessory, he couldn't help but feel a small smile appear. His expression had nothing to do with the headband - it had everything to do with the joy that radiated from her. Her smile was contagious; Harry couldn't help but copy it.

"Okay, since we already got the face washing out of the way in the shower, the first thing is toner!" Rory picked up a bottle and a cotton ball. "First, I just need to get it wet." Opening the bottle, she pressed the cotton to the top and turned over the bottle, soaking the fluffy white ball in her hand. "Okay, and then I'm going to...." She pressed it against his cheek and gently dragged it upward with a light touch. "How does that feel?"

"It's nice," he said.

Rory moved the cotton ball along the bridge of his nose and up to his forehead. "Good. And now let's move onto..." she looked over her shoulder, "Ah! There we are! A sheet mask!"

"Is it another cow design?"

Reading over the packaging, she shook her head. "No, I think it's pink!" Tearing it open, she fished out the mask and unwrapped it. "Ready?" she asked, the mask hovering over his face. "Tilt your head up a bit for me." As he followed directions without a word, she gently spread the mask across his face, smoothing out every crease with her fingers. "How does that feel?"

"Cold."

"You'll get used to it. Now while that stays on for about five to ten minutes, how about I deal with the knots in your shoulders."

"You don't have to do all of this, Rory."

"I know I don't have to," she said, grabbing the bottle of lotion. "I want to. You're always so good at taking care of me. Let me take care of you tonight."

"Thank you."

Walking around to the back of the chair, she gathered his hair and fashioned it into a small bun, keeping it in place with a pink scrunchie. "You don't have to keep thanking me."

"I know I don't have to. I want to," he repeated her words.

"Well, my thankful boy, just close your eyes, relax and let my magic fingers do the work, okay?" She squeezed lotion into her hands and rubbed them together to warm the product. "Tell me if anything hurts."

"Mm'kay," he mumbled, closing his eyes.

Harry questioned that this would help him relax - not because he doubted her skills or effort but from everything running through his mind. Relaxing meant he had to shut his mind off, which was always impossible. However, Harry was shocked when he felt her hands on his shoulders. Within an instant, he felt relaxed.

Melting under her touch, he barely heard her ask, "Is the pressure alright?" as her knuckle pressed against his skin, dragging back and forth over a knot.

"Mmhm," was all Harry could manage.

Rory continued to work her magic - proving Harry wasn't the only one with magical fingers. And with every passing second, she confirmed how powerful her touch was. Working down his neck and across his shoulders, she continued to massage through the knots in his muscles, paying extra attention to where she could feel his built-up stress.

Leaning her head down, Rory gently whispered, "Harry...."

"Mmhm?"

"I'm going to take your mask off now, alright?"

"Mmhm."

With one final squeeze of his shoulders, Rory rounded to the other side of the chair. Lifting the edges of the sheet mask and slowly lifting it off his skin, a smile curved on her lips, watching his eyes slowly flutter open. "How do you feel so far?"

"Good. Really good." His voice was soft - the softest she had ever heard. It was like he was drifting on clouds as he spoke to her, lost in a dreamy haze that coated his gaze and tone of voice. "That felt amazing. Thank you."

Rory tossed the used mask into the bin and looked at the various bottles on the counter. "Well, it's not over yet. We just have a few more steps and-"

"There's more?" he asked, surprised by the revelation.

"Just a few," she assured him. "Don't worry. It's almost over."

"It's not that - I just can't believe there's more, and my skin feels this good already. Do you feel like this every night?"

Stealing a glance over her shoulder, she bit the inside of her cheek to hide the giggle over what she saw. Harry, gently grazing the skin of his face with the tips of his fingers, leaned forward to get a better view of himself in the mirror. Although only a short amount of time had passed, already she could see a monumental change in his appearance; his softened eyes and relaxed jaw, and the crease between his brows disappeared.

"It's nice, isn't it? Now, I'm going to apply some serum...." Turning around with a glass bottle in hand, she added, "I'm just going to use the dropper and apply it directly to your skin. Okay?"

Unscrewing the top, she leaned forward and brought the dropper to his face - but just as she was about to squeeze the product onto his skin, Harry grabbed hold of her wrist.

"Are you comfortable standing like that?"

"It's fine."

"It's fine isn't good enough. C'mere," he patted his thigh with one hand as he gently tugged her forward with the other, "sit."

Rory silently obliged and maneuvered into his lap. With each knee bent on either side of his body, she straddled his waist and sat back.

Placing a hand on her thigh, Harry gently stroked the bare skin. "Comfortable?"

The question was simple - some would have even considered it polite. But Rory knew better. She could see the glint in his eyes and how he fought the smirk that threatened to tug the corner of his mouth. And although Rory was far more comfortable in her new position, what truly helped her relax was seeing Harry return bit by bit. First, it was his softness. And now it was his playful side.

"Very," she purred in response. "Thank you for thinking about me."

The room fell silent as Rory finished applying all her various products to his skin. Harry welcomed the silence - it was relaxing. Or, at the very least, it didn't cause him any worry. And that was more than enough to enjoy the quiet instead of fearing it.

While Harry relaxed in the silence, Rory used it for focus. She was determined to ensure he enjoyed every last second as she massaged the products into his skin. Following the serum, she added one cream under his eyes and another for the rest of his face before using a third on his lips - the finale for the routine.

"There," Rory announced, swiping her finger across his bottom lip one final time. "Rub your lips together like this," Mimicking the movement by pressing her lips together, she gave a nod of approval as Harry followed directions. "Good job," she cooed, "All done, handsome. How do you feel?"

Harry didn't answer - not with words, at least. Reaching a hand forward to her cheek, the pad of his thumb gently grazed the skin. She watched as his lips curved into a smile. It that should have warmed her heart to see such a thing. Whenever he smiled, her chest filled with warmth. And his dimple poking through always felt like a reward. Harry's smile looked real - like pure elation spread across his expression.

Harry always made a point to say he knew her smile. He took pride in knowing when it was real or forced.

But Rory knew his all the same. She knew the smile painted across his lips was anything but genuine.

Unsure she wanted to know the answer, a forced light laugh laced her words, "Why are you smiling at me like that?"

A beat of pure silence passed before Harry uttered the last thing she expected to hear, "Because I'm scared one day I'm going to wake up, and this will be nothing but a memory."

Despite his smile, there was a sadness in how his lips painfully tugged upward. It could be heard in his voice and seen in his eyes. There was no happiness behind how he felt. There was just sadness.

"What?" She searched but was unable to find a reason behind his words. "Why would you say something like that?"

Because anything I love has been taken from me, he wanted to say.

"Because anything that has ever brought happiness has been taken from me," was his answer. 

Rory's brow creased over the answer. She wondered if he was speaking of death. His mother and Juliet had suffered that fate, so Rory could only assume he feared she would die too.

His forced smile appeared far more evident as he continued, "There might come a day where you want to walk away, and, despite everything inside me hating the thought, I know I'd have to accept your decision."

Processing the words she heard, her mouth fell slightly agape. He wasn't talking about the possibility of her dying. It had nothing to do with death. Physical death, at least. Harry feared her leaving.

Harry feared mourning her while she was still alive.

As his hand cradled her cheek, Rory turned her head to the side and pressed her lips against his palm. "You don't have to worry about that, Harry. I'm not going anywhere."

"You might."

"I'm not-"

"But you might," he interjected, "And I know I would have to accept it."

Her furrowed brow grew deeper as she tried to comprehend where this was all coming from. It felt so sudden, a complete shift from how their day started. Barely twelve hours ago, she was sitting in his lap, being comforted and coached through her breakdown. Even a few hours ago, he provided a listening ear in the alley outside the club.

What did she miss? Where did things turn? How long had he been suffering from these thoughts?

Harry helped her feel safe to admit what was on her mind. The words always flowed so effortlessly when he provided a comforting shoulder to lean on. But Rory wanted to help him so desperately that she feared every word she'd say would be wrong.

"Harry," she started before knowing where she intended to go, "I wear this," she pointed to the ring on her finger, "because it's my commitment to you - to us. So, when I say I'm not going anywhere, I mean it. If you're scared because I walked away once, I promise you that-"

Harry shook his head. "It's not that. At all." The last thing he wanted was for her to take a burden of guilt on her shoulders that she never deserved to carry.

"Did something happen downstairs?"

His touch fell from her face. "What?"

"Did something happen downstairs?" she repeated. "I'm just trying to understand where this is coming from, Harry."

With his facade fading entirely, it exposed the true sadness that he tried making. "It's-" Harry paused, squeezing his eyes shut. "It's nothing," he whispered.

The last thing Rory wanted was to cry - it felt selfish to do right now. But once the tears pricked her eyes, she knew she was seconds away from opening the floodgates. With her hands in her lap, her fingers curled into her palms, nails digging into the flesh. 

"Please, Harry," her bottom lip trembled as her broken voice begged, "Don't shut me out."

Harry was never one to be moved by someone else's emotions. He never cared if someone cried or expressed pain, especially when he was the one inflicting it. Causing such a thing was something he enjoyed. It pleased him. However, it wasn't like that when it came to her.

No longer did he feel fueled with power over sadness or hurt. He despised it. One look into those large Bambi eyes of hers sent him spiralling. He wanted to destroy anyone or anything that made her feel this way - rip them apart limb by limb and eliminate whatever was necessary so there was no trace left behind. It made him want to absorb all her pain so she never had to feel it again. But when he was the cause, it broke his heart—a physical pain stabbed at his chest.

He didn't want to shut her out. Shutting her out went against the very thing he said they were—a team. Harry didn't want to shut her out - but he feared what admitting the truth would bring.

Brushing away the tear before it could roll down her cheek, he said, "When I went downstairs, I realized I... I don't deserve you, Rory."

"What?" The admission shocked Rory. She didn't know what she expected him to say, but it was far from that.

"I don't deserve anything you do for me. Your second chances. Your kindness. Your care. Nothing. I don't deserve any of it."

"Stop saying that."

"But, it's true-"

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is-"

Rory pressed her index finger against his lips, forcing the rest of his sentence to be silenced. "Stop," she warned. "I don't know what happened down there to make you switch. Or, maybe you've thought this for a while, and now it's bubbling up - but I need you to understand something... are you listening?"

"Yes," he managed against her finger.

"Good." She took a deep breath and said, "We deserve each other." Slowly, she dragged her finger down his lips. "We deserve each other, Harry," she repeated, wanting her words to stick, "I like to think we not only make an undeniably great team but that we make each other better."

"You make me better," he whispered, "You make me so fucking better."

Eyes catching sight of the cow headband he still proudly wore, she couldn't help but smile. "You know, some mornings I struggle to think I deserve someone like you - someone that wants me for who I am and doesn't try to change or force me to be someone I'm not." She rested her hand against his cheek. "Every guy wanted me to use me fulfill a fantasy... or loved how I acted and dressed until they wanted something serious with me. But not you. I was never someone on your arm. I was a person to you. Even when you wanted to kill me," she teased, "Harry, you took note of everything I did and didn't like so you would never forget. You took care of me when I was hurt, and you helped provide for my foster mother without me ever asking. You have made me not just picture our future together but want it and help me see that it's possible - that it's not just a fantasy."

Feeling him lean into her touch, she continued, "You've helped me learn to trust and want to live, Harry. For us, for our future. I don't want you to think you don't deserve me - because you do. And I deserve you. Where I struggle, you're there for me. And I hope I do the same for you. So, there's no hierarchy of who deserves the other person more. It's equal because we are a team."

His hand went to the cow headband as he pulled it off his head. Staring down at the black and white fuzzy bow in his hands, Harry squeezed his eyes shut and asked, "What if you hear something from Handler about my past that makes you hate me?"

"That won't happen."

"It might-"

"It won't. I promise you; it won't." Before letting him continue the argument, she added, "Harry, I need you to hear me loud and clear, baby. What that program did to you - what it forced you to become and made you do - that is not who you are, Harry. And that is certainly not the man I fell for." She ran her fingers through his hair, tucking fallen strands behind his ear. "Some things might not be easy to hear, I'll admit that... but at the end of the day, I know it wasn't your fault. You never had a choice back then. But you do now. And those decisions, the ones you make now - for yourself and for us - are the decisions I care about."

"Sometimes I feel like he's never going to go away...." he confessed, "That part of me will always be inside me - threatening to take over. Like I'm still not my own person."

"Well, I didn't know that version of you... But I feel confident enough in knowing that he wouldn't care about what I deserved." Rory ran her finger down the bridge of his nose. "You are in there, Harry. You have worked so hard to become your own person. Not just on the outside," she lowered her hand to his chest, "But on the inside too. There's a heart in here that's full of warmth and compassion... I see and feel it every day... and it teaches me how to be more open and trusting. I deserve you, Harry. And you deserve me."

Harry remained silent. For once, he was at a complete loss for words. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her body into his as his head rested against her chest. Running her hand down his back, she kissed the top of his head. Rory didn't force him to acknowledge what she said - she knew he had heard every word. Otherwise, he wouldn't have done this - he wouldn't have shown any vulnerability.

There was no time constraint. Rory would have stayed like this all night if needed. But as he slowly loosened his arms and lifted his head, a pair of green eyes meeting her gaze let her know staying like this all night wouldn't be needed.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"For ruining the night."

"You didn't ruin anything, Harry. Do you at least feel any better?"

A weight felt like it immediately vanished from his shoulder, allowing him to honestly answer, "Yes."

"I'm glad."

"Thank you."

Rory wanted to say he didn't need to thank her because, in all honestly, he didn't. But knowing he needed the acknowledgment, she replied, "You're welcome. I'm here for you, forever and always."

"Forever and always," Harry repeated, "I like that."

"You know, I felt like we became stronger after you helped me this morning. And now, I feel the same way. I like knowing what's going through that mind of yours," she said, "That's never going to ruin our night... I want to be there for you whenever and however."

Three words lingered on the tip of his tongue. Three words he had never felt for someone before. Three words he barely understood what they meant. All Harry knew was that he desperately wanted to tell her - wanted her to know how he felt.

Harry swallowed the words. This wasn't the time nor the place for something like that. She deserved a special moment - not one that materialized because of his fears. Rory deserved loved, and she deserved to hear she was loved in the right way. This wasn't it. But that didn't mean he didn't feel that four-letter word for her. He neared saying it every time he looked or had the mere thought of her.

Raising his pinkie finger, he said, "You and me." It wasn't the three words he intended - but it was three he felt conveyed somewhat of a similar message.

"You and me," she repeated, hooking her small finger around his.

"Forever and always."

"Forever and always." Her cheeks flushed with heat over the addition. "Seal it with a kiss." Kissing the pad of her thumb, she waited for him to do the same before pressing them against each other. "And now-"

"A proper kiss," he interrupted, guiding her closer and minimizing the distance between them.

That kiss was precisely what he needed to seal his fate for the night. Everything she had done for him and continued to do to help him be a better person was what he was reminded of. All in that kiss. It was amazing how such a simple action could hold so much weight when shared with the right person.

Hands cupping her face, he kissed her once more and pulled his head slightly back to whisper, "You," kiss, "and," kiss, "me," kiss.

"Forever and always," Rory managed to sneak in just before her lips were smothered by his again. "We should probably get to bed."

The words regretfully fell from her mouth - but they both knew it was true. The day they had proved to be a beautiful distraction for Rory while the night did wonders to ease Harry's mind. However, nothing could erase the possibilities and uncertainty that tomorrow would bring for them.

Although he hummed in agreement, his hands moved from her cheeks down to her waist, keeping her body in place as he pressed kisses against her neck.

"Harry," she warned, instantly sinking her teeth into her bottom lip due to his movements.

"Yes, Bambi?"

Rory could feel his smirk pressing against her skin. "Bed." She tried to keep her voice stable and in control. However, it became increasingly difficult for her to do so as Harry focused on her weak spot. "Harry," she attempted again, digging her fingers into his shoulders to contain her whimpers of pleasure.

"Mmhm?" His lips moved up to her ear.

"It's bedtime."

"I know." He moved back to her lips and mumbled, "Just wanted a few more," before stealing another kiss. "Wrap your arms around my neck, Bambi."

Following instructions instantly, Rory barely had a second to wonder what his plan was before she found her body lifting out of the chair. Attempting to suppress her surprised squeal by pressing her lips together, she wrapped her legs around Harry's waist. Supporting her body in his arms, Harry walked over to the bed and gently laid her on her back. With her head resting against the pillows, she looked up at the pair of emerald green eyes and couldn't help but mimic his smile.

Harry - and all of him, for that matter - looked down at her.

He had returned.

Her Harry was back.

"There," he said, hovering his body over hers. "Now, you're in bed. Happy?"

She nodded, feeling her cheeks ache from smiling as he lay next to her on the bed. "Very." A small yawn escaped her. "Sorry," she said, trying to silence another from escaping, "It's been a long day. I guess I'm a bit tired."

Harry extended his arm across his waist. "That's okay. I am too." He noticed her heavy eyelids and added, "You should get some rest, Bambi."

Letting her eyes slowly close, it was evident the poor thing was exhausted, considering she didn't even try putting up a fight. "You too," she said, pulling the bedsheets up and snuggling against her pillow.

Harry removed his arm from her waist and rolled to the other side, stretching his limb to the bedside table. Just as Harry was about to turn off the lamp, Rory's eyes flew open, and she suddenly sat up.

"Where's Pebbles?" Her head frantically looked from side to side as she searched the space around them.

Spotting the ear of the stuffed animal in question, sandwiched between two pillows, Harry reached behind and pulled the little guy free. "Here."

With a sigh of relief, she smoothed out his fur and raised the cow to eye level. "You scared me!" Catching Harry roll his eyes, Rory quickly asked, "What was that eye roll for?"

"Nothing. Go to sleep, Bambi."

"Well, it was surely something," she huffed, laying her head back down. Rolling onto her side, she cuddled Pebbles in her arms and kissed the top of his head. Once again, she caught Harry's annoyed look and poked his chest. "What do you have against Pebbles?"

"I swear you like that thing more than me sometimes." Hearing her giggle in response, he uttered an annoyed, "What?"

"I've just learned so much about you tonight," she teased, kissing the tip of his nose. "You're jealous of Pebbles."

"I'm not jealous."

"Yes, you are!"

Rolling his eyes once again, Harry shut the light. "Go to bed, Bambi."

Another fit of giggles escaped her. "It's adorable, really," she said into the darkness.

"Bambi-"

"My brainwashed assassin robot boyfriend...." Rory said, turning to the other side, "Taken down by the strap of my heels and jealous of Pebbles."

With an aggravated sigh, Harry stretched his arm across her waist, pulling her body close. "Go to sleep," he whispered.

"You know I'm only kidding, right?"

"Mmhm," he hummed against the skin of her neck before pressing a kiss.

"It's you and me."

"You and me," he repeated.

"And Pebbles!" A beat of silence passed before she nudged his stomach with her elbow.

Harry sighed in defeat before muttering, "And Pebbles," knowing if he didn't, he'd never hear the end of it.

And he was right.

Rory and Harry (and Pebbles). Forever and always.