Characters: Miranda (OFC), Harry
Rating: PG (for mild, persistent cursing)
Word count: 432
Summary: In which Miranda finds out that fate works in mysterious ways.
Author's notes: Written for the 8 Seconds Challenge and for the 'Short' prompt on my occhallenge table. Set in my mini!Dresdens 'verse, pre-series.
What had she been thinking? Going home with some guy she knew for, what, half an hour? Some guy she met at a bar? That was more of a Carrie thing to do. Or a Jess.
Miranda winced as her cell phone played Jess’s ringtone. Shit! She stopped trying to very quietly put on her skirt and dove for the phone in her purse before it woke up the guy in the bed behind her.
Jess had texted her.
Where R U???!!!!
Shit! She pulled up the zipper of her skirt with one hand and used her other thumb to text back:
She put the cell phone down on the bedside table and went looking for her shirt. It was under the bed. She couldn’t help but look at the guy as she picked it up. He was very sweet looking when he was asleep. She smiled a little at him.
It wasn’t that it hadn’t been fun. It had been fun. Really fun. Harry seemed like a nice guy. He had a killer smile. It was just that she had never slept with a guy she’d only known for half an hour. She didn’t do things like that. She couldn’t even blame alcohol. She hadn’t drank that much.
She couldn’t worry about it now, though. She had promised Jess she would drive her to her job interview in – she glanced at the clock – half an hour. Shit!
She finished dressing, grabbed her purse and snuck downstairs, all without disturbing Harry. It wasn’t until she was outside that she remembered her cell phone. It was still on his bedside table. Shit!
She turned back around and considered making a run for it. It would take, what, eight seconds to run back in and grab it? If she did it quietly, she might not wake him up. Her eyes absently looked over the words on his door:
HARRY DRESDEN, WIZARD.
Weird. She didn’t have time to ponder it, though. And, upon reflection, she didn’t have time to get her cell phone. She still had to get back to the bar and her car, then get to Jess’s. She would just have to come back later and face him like a grown-up.
She’s watching Harry bounce their daughter in his arms, unable to stop smiling. The baby is perfect, Harry is perfect, she’s perfect. Life is perfect.
So she takes a moment, just a quick moment, to thank God that, three years earlier, she hadn’t had eight seconds to spare.