Sharp Focus

Erica was out of sorts. She had turned over in her sleep and reached for Harry, but instead of his solid warmth her hands encountered his pillow. It was empty. And cold. She frowned, squinting at the clock on his nightstand. There was no hope of reading the numbers clearly without her glasses, which could be anywhere but were not immediately accessible. Still, she thought that the first number was a three.

She rose from the bed, mind clouded with sleep and padded into the hallway, listening for some indication of his whereabouts. Hearing nothing, she went to the nursery. The vision he cast stopped her in the doorway, and she grasped the door casing in order to remain upright.

Harry was asleep on the chaise lounge, halfway reclined and clad in his pajama bottoms...the ones that matched the shirt of his that she was wearing. She felt her face flush as she recalled the series of events by which she came to wear it.

Curled against his chest was Talia, thumb in her mouth, her long eyelashes fanned out across her cheeks. Harry's arms were wrapped snugly around the baby, a nearly-empty bottle next to him, and the moonlight reflected off the water through the window cast shadows on his face that took Erica's breath away.

She debated leaving them be, peaceful as they were, but knew that while Harry would never say anything, his neck and shoulders would trouble him if he remained in that position. Making her way to them quietly, Erica attempted to extricate Talia from her grandfather's arms. When in sleep he registered movement from the baby his arms tightened around her. His protective instinct brought tears to Erica's eyes; that this man had such a natural inclination toward fatherhood, that he should love her daughter's child as if she was his flesh and blood.

She tried another angle. Kneeling by his head, she brushed the back of her fingers across his forehead, following her touch with her lips. He sighed but otherwise didn't stir. "Harry," she whispered against his ear. He turned his head toward the source of the sound and she kissed his lips softly. His eyes opened and he blinked several times as he tried to recall where he was. He opened his mouth to speak but Erica pressed her finger to his lips, bringing hers near his ear once again.

"Tell me in the morning. Let's put her down and go back to our room," she whispered, gesturing toward Talia in his arms. He nodded, transferring the little girl into her arms before rising slowly from the chaise. He rolled his shoulders and they popped. They exchanged a look and Erica squeezed his hand before making her way to the crib and laying Talia inside. Erica had learned in the earliest days of Marin's infancy that you cannot abruptly put down a baby who has been asleep in your arms and expect that little one to remain asleep. As she lay Talia down, Erica tucked the blanket snug around her and settled her warm hand on the tiny girl's belly. When after a minute or two Talia was still, Erica moved her hand to the baby's forehead, then away when she didn't stir.

"Kiss her good night?" Harry whispered. Erica looked to him and nodded, her heart threatening to burst as she watched him press a kiss to his granddaughter's soft cheek. He took Erica by the hand and they walked back to the master bedroom.

Harry lay down first, Erica coming up beside him. She tucked herself against his side as his arms came around her and she sighed happily. She levered herself up on an elbow to look at him and ghosted her fingertips over the contours of his face. He closed his eyes and hummed contentedly at her touch and she kissed each eyelid and then his lips. "Sleep," she whispered.

"No." His voice was husky and this was the first syllable spoken above a whisper by either of them. He turned toward her, cupping her face in his hand, and brushed his lips ever so softly against hers. It was like nothing Erica had ever felt. Half-asleep as they were, their minds were unoccupied by the usual litany of thoughts, their senses subdued except for a sudden, acute awareness of touch. Erica was completely present in the moment, her sole focus on the feel of Harry's lips on hers.