Mister Lincoln Roses (M, Harrow)

[Shay]

As far as I'm aware, this will be the first Harrow fanfic on this site, so I don't expect it to interest a lot of people, but I know at least one person is looking forward to reading this. I hope I managed to do a decent job capturing Harrow's character considering the fact that I'm so much more used to writing Henry Morgan from Forever (both played by Ioan Gruffudd), and there's a lot of similarity between the two characters. As far as I'm concerned Harrow is pretty much how Henry Morgan might have turned out if he was mortal and born 200 years later.

Anyway, this is an edited / extended scene for the first episode of season 2, so there's some spoilers for that episode and the very end of season 1. The only additional warning I'd give is to not read if you don't like the idea of sneezing causing pain due to the person being injured.

I'd originally intended this to be longer, but I've been stuck for a while, so I'm hoping that posting the first bit will help get the inspiration flowing again. Enjoy!

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Daniel Harrow woke to a mild thumping sound. The first thing he noticed, other than the strange noise, was that the bed he was lying on didn’t feel at all familiar. The next thing he noticed was an uncomfortable pressure in his sinuses, which was slightly impairing his ability to breathe through his nose. There was pungent, but somewhat sweet, scent in the room, that he couldn’t quite put his finger on in his sleep-addled state.

He struggled to open his eyes. After blinking a few times to clear his vision, he saw a rainbow mylar balloon, with a photograph of his assistant Simon pasted on, bouncing against a tiled ceiling. That explained the noise, but he furrowed his brow in confusion its presence. Glancing around, he realized he was in a hospital room filled with half a florist shop’s worth of merchandise. He groaned inwardly. That explained the strange bed and the smell. Unfortunately, it also explained his sinus pressure and congestion. There was a blond woman, who he was fairly sure was his boss, standing on the far side of the room with her back turned to him, typing on a laptop that was sitting on a counter in the midst of his get-well bouquets. He supposed he’d better speak up to let her know he was awake.

"Hell is very floral," he said in a mild tone that expressed his amusement, rather than the discomfort he was feeling. Indeed, his personal hell probably would be filled with an abundance of plant life with no access to antihistamines. Despite the fact that he could feel his allergies gradually getting worse, he also felt an odd sense of euphoria. Before he could think on it, the woman turned around, a relieved smile spreading across her face. As he’d thought, it was Maxine Pavich.

"You're assuming hell would have you,” Pavich said, walking towards the hospital bed.

"Well, you're here,” Harrow bantered back, returning his boss’s smile.

"I'm beginning to wonder why,” said Pavich, only slightly exasperated. “Do you want water? Juice?"

"Whiskey,” Harrow replied with a grin, knowing full well his request would be denied under the circumstances.

"Sorry, it's contraindicated by the morphine,” said Pavich, her voice growing more serious.

"Morphine?" Harrow frowned, initially confused, but that would explain the mild euphoria he was experiencing.

"Mm-hmm. You were in an induced coma, so if it was attention you were after, you missed it all. Well, at least someone has a sense of humor,” Pavich said, turning to look at the flowers on the bedside table. “Mister Lincoln roses."

"Because I was shot too,” said Harrow, his frown deepening as the memories of what had happened came rushing back. Thankfully, the morphine prevented him from feeling too distressed over it, but he knew he’d have to come to terms with it at some point. The morphine was also apparently keeping the pain from his injury at bay. Unfortunately, it was doing nothing to stop a rather insistent itch from forming in his nose. He sniffled and gave it a quick rub, but knew it was only a matter of time before he started sneezing.

Pavich placed a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Clean through, apparently. You no longer have a gallbladder," she informed him.

He let out a low groan at the news. “I'm rather attached to that.” Before he could make any further complaint about his missing organ, the itch in his nose spiked, and he had to quickly bring his arm up to catch the sneeze that burst out of him. “Hehhh-Kistchhh!” Harrow gasped at the sharp pain in his abdomen. It seemed that even the morphine couldn’t stop pain from sudden movements.

“Bless you,” said Pavich, wincing in sympathy. “So, what happened?"

"I imagine I rubbed someone up the wrong way. Hard to believe,” said Harrow, giving his boss an innocent look.

Pavich smiled for a moment before her expression turned serious again, “Do you know who?"

Harrow’s expression hardened and he thought for a moment, but was coming up blank, and that, in and of itself, was worrying. "I have no idea."

“All right, you just focus on getting better. The police are going to do everything in their power to find who did this to you,” Pavich assured him.

Harrow nodded, but was unable to reply as the need to sneeze overwhelmed him once more. Not having a handkerchief or tissues within easy reach, he was forced to sneeze into his arm again.

“Iptshuhhhhhh!” He bit his tongue to stop himself from groaning out loud at the pain, not wanting Pavich to worry, but from the frown on her face, it seemed that his sneezing alone was enough to worry her.

“Bless you again. I hope you’re not coming down ill on top of everything else,” said Pavich. She grabbed a box of tissues from a shelf and placed it on Harrow’s lap before reaching out to feel his forehead. “No fever at least.”

“More like hay fever,” Harrow muttered, plucking a tissue from the box. He gave his nose a good blow, but it didn’t seem to do much to lessen the itch or the congestion.

Pavich raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you have hay fever?”

“It’s not something I tend to advertise,” Harrow said, rubbing at his nose. “I assume I’ve been here long enough that there’s Nihtishhhhh! no medication left in my system.”

“Probably,” Pavich said, her frown deepening. It was clear sneezing was causing Harrow a great deal of pain, despite his valiant efforts to hide it. “I suppose I’d better get rid of all the flowers.”

“Leave them,” Harrow said, the congestion in his voice growing noticeably worse.

“That must be the morphine talking,” Pavich said with a shake of her head. “Why would you want to stay in a room full of plants you’re allergic to?”

“I was just shot. Best not to piss anyone else off by throwing out their guhh… Uhhhptshhhh! gifts,” Harrow said before blowing his nose. In truth, he was incredibly touched. He had no idea so many people cared about him enough to send him flowers, cards, and other assorted get-well gifts considering the fact that he did tend to rub most people the wrong way. He definitely wanted the chance to go through everything to see who had sent them.

Pavich rolled her eyes. “I’m sure anyone who cared enough to send you flowers wouldn’t be offended if you got rid of them for medical reasons.”

“I’ll be fuhh... fine once Ishhhh! Ishhhh! HuhhhhhTishhhhhhhh!!! I get some medication into my system,” said Harrow, grabbing another tissue as his nose didn’t feel quite finished. “UhhhhhTISHHHHHHHHH!!!” He couldn’t help whimpering slightly at the intense pain in his abdomen after that last sneeze.

“Doctors really do make the worst patients,” Pavich said with a mixture of affection and exasperation. “You’re going to tear your stitches if you keep sneezing like that. I suppose I’d better fetch a doctor to give you some medicine if you really won’t let me take the flowers away.”

“Thank you,” said Harrow tiredly. “While you’re at it, do you think you could find me some softer tissues? These are little better than sand paper.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” said Pavich, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” With that, she hurried out of the room to find someone to medicate her stubborn employee.

 

[Wig_Powder]

I haven't seen this show yet (I really should, given my love for the lead actor), but I was able to follow along pretty well. If there are spoilers (other than Harrow's injury), you kept them to a minimum, while also giving me a decent sense of the characters, so well done there. I also like the banter between Harrow and Pavich, and of course, I love the scenario. Well, less the idea that sneezes cause pain, but the whole "well-intentioned get well soon bouquet unknowingly given to someone with allergies" is nice to think about.

In short, great job! I'd definitely be interested in reading more from this fandom as long as it was light on the spoilers!

[Shay]

Thanks. I'm really glad you enjoyed it, though I can only take credit for about half of the banter since the other half was taken directly from canon and the canon scene ends right after Harrow says he has no idea who might have shot him. Just that hospital room was practically bursting with flowers, and then the "Hell is very floral" line practically begged this fic to be written, even if the line wasn't meant in that way in the show.

[marzipan]

I'd absolutely love to read more Harrow fics! Anything involving Ioan Gruffudd is a true delight. ;) 

[Shay]

Thanks. Glad you enjoyed it. I can't say I have any ideas for other Harrow fics other than to maybe add another part to this one if I ever have the time and motivation. Who knows, maybe some inspiration will strike after seeing season 3. Forever is still my preferred fandom though and I'm more comfortable writing Henry Morgan than Daniel Harrow.