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Written for the Shitennou Forums 2009 Ficathon. The theme this year was song fic. This is the edited version. See author profile for notes and where to locate unedited version.

Stay (Sugarland)

Bzzt. Bzzt. Her eyes blink open as the incessant buzzing continues. Bzzt. Bzzt.

Afraid to move, even breathe, she waits in silence until the shifting on the bed lets her know he has awoken. Squeezing her eyes shut, she feigns sleep and prays that this isn't the call she has been dreading. "Hello?" he speaks quietly, trying not to wake her, "Mm-hmm. Yeah. I'm on my way now. You too."

He hangs up and sighs, glancing at where she lays. Leaning over, he presses a light kiss on her temple. He whispers, "I'm sorry," then gets up, dresses and departs.

When she hears the click of the front door closing, she opens her eyes and blinks rapidly, trying to control the tears that have gathered there. She rolls over into the space he has vacated, clinging to the essence of him left behind; his scent, his warmth. She looks at the clock that reads 11:38 pm and continues to stare at it until the numbers become blurry. Giving up the struggle, she curls into a ball and weeps openly.

'How did I end up here?'

6 months earlier

'Crap. Crap, crap,' Miranda Harte thought to herself as she rushed down the sidewalk while digging through her purse for her cell phone and simultaneously trying to adjust the strap on her funky gold wedge sandal. They were incredibly cute, but not exactly practical for her current pace. If she was late for this appointment, her cousin Ren would eviscerate her, boil her in oil, feed her to the sharks, and…

Her mental checklist came to an abrupt stop at the same time her body did. "Owww," Miranda groaned from her position on the ground, "What the hell?"

Looking up to see what she rammed into, she found herself looking up, and up at grey eyes framed by platinum hair dressed in a sharp suit dripping with … coffee?

Ignoring his proffered hand, she scrambled up and pulled the multicoloured scarf from her hair. Apologizing profusely, she began dabbing at the stranger's suit with her scarf in an attempt to minimize the damage to it. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going. My cell was ringing, and my shoe was doing this weird twisty thing and I totally didn't see you and I hope you didn't get burned and…"

"Miss?" he gently interrupted, placing his hand over hers to stop her erratic rubbing, "I'm fine. Are you all right? You took quite a spill."

It was then that Miranda finally took a good look at him and it stopped her cold. Even in her heels, this man was still a full head taller than her. He was well-built (as she had felt before her sudden introduction to the ground) with pale blonde hair cropped short. Upon closer inspection, his eyes appeared silvery, rimmed by a darker grey. Despite the situation, he wore a slightly bemused expression on his face. All in all, he was the hottest thing she had seen in all her twenty-six years.

Awareness settled in as she realized all this and exactly where her hands were dabbing. Snatching them away, she felt a tell-tale redness flooding her face. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, "I wasn't thinking. I'm fine thank you."

She was caught off guard by his low chuckle that sent delicious shivers up her spine. "I wasn't paying too much attention either," he assured her.

"I'll pay for the dry cleaning, it's the least I can do," Miranda offered, desperate to hide her embarrassment.

"It's not necessary," he replied, "I can get it done myself."

"No really, I insist. It's not a problem."

"All right then," he said, "If you're really insisting. But I have a few conditions. The first is you tell me your name. I'm Keir. Keir Flynn."

Miranda smiled flirtatiously, "I'm… late. Shit."

She had just noticed the time and it had certainly gotten away from her. Digging through her purse, she dragged out a business card and handed it to him. "Sorry, I've got to run," she rushed out, "But I am now seriously late and it's not going to be pretty. Just bring the dry cleaning bill there and I'll take care of it."

Before he could reply, she was off, dodging pedestrians at a breakneck speed. She suddenly paused at the corner of the street, swung around, gave him a bright smile and shouted, "I'm Miranda. It was nice meeting you."

He shook his head at her behaviour and looked down at the card he held. It was turquoise and cream, with a stylized logo of a dove behind the word "Paphos". Underneath that, it read "Jewellery-Clothing-Accessories" and was followed by "Miranda Harte - Owner and Designer". Flipping it over, he noted the address and phone number. Intrigued, he looked back at the path she had taken, then carefully placed the card in his lone dry pocket. Picking up the bright scarf that lay at his feet, he appeared to think for a moment, before tucking it in the same pocket as the card and heading back to his office and his spare suit.

~*~

"How many times do you want me to apologize Ren?" Miranda pleaded with her irate cousin as they entered the boutique that they had created.

"Am I mad at you?" Ren Hanazono-Harte inquired, levelling an arch look at her.

"Hell yes," Miranda said emphatically, "Wouldn't you say she's pissed Halley?"

She had directed this at the third co-owner of Paphos, Ren's younger sister Halley. After years of living with the tempestuous Ren, she went the diplomatic route in responding. "I wouldn't call it 'pissed' Mira. I think she's a little disappointed in you."

Ren scoffed, "Halley, you're my sister and I love you but you have the gift of understatement. I'm more than a little disappointed, Mira. Today was important and I wanted you to be on time. How could you expect me to pick out a wedding dress without you there?"

Miranda winced, knowing that she wasn't going to win here. The disappointed look in her cousin's violet eyes was not something she wanted to see. "But I did get there," she said hopefully, "And I was only twenty minutes late."

"Halley was worried that something had happened to you," Ren scolded, looking away.

Miranda turned to the younger Hanazono-Harte, who merely rolled her own violet eyes at her sister's theatrics. "Yes Mira," she intoned sarcastically, "I was so very worried for someone who has lived in this city her entire life and was going around in broad daylight."

"Actually," Miranda mused, "Something did happen to delay me, but it wasn't all bad."

Ren turned back around, curious, "What?"

"Well, I was looking for my phone to call you and tell you I was going to be a few minutes late when I ran smack into this really hot guy, making him spill his coffee all over himself. I tried to help him clean up with that scarf I was wearing in my hair, but it didn't really do much. You should have seen him Ren. He was gorgeous with silver eyes, platinum hair…"

"And about six foot four?" Halley finished.

"Yeah," Miranda replied, "How did you know?"

"Because I think that's him outside looking at the sign."

"He really came," Miranda said, a note of panic in her voice, "He's here and I haven't had a chance to freshen up because that appointment took forever…"

"It might not have if you hadn't been late," Ren reminded her, "Besides, we were only there for an hour. You look fine."

"Really?"

"Really," Halley reassured her, "Now why don't you go let him in before he leaves?"

"Right, and you two…"

"Will be in the back if you need anything, now go."

Making sure the other two women were gone, Miranda headed to the front of the store, took a calming breath and unlocked it. Leaning in the doorway, she grinned, "Sorry sir, we're closed today."

He raised the small bag he held, "Uh. You forgot your scarf. I can come back when you're open if you like."

Her grin became a full-blown smile, "I was teasing. Why don't you come in and have a look around."

"Sure," he answered, "From what I could see from the outside, you've got yourself quite the place here."

"I opened it with my cousins just over a year ago," she said, fondness in her voice, "Our grandparents helped us with some of the start up costs and helped us get our small business loan but the concept and execution was purely the three of us."

"On your card, it said you were also a designer?"

She nodded and indicated a display towards the back of the shop, "I design jewellery. I work mainly semi-precious stones like amber, jade and so on. Halley, that's my youngest cousin, just finished the design program at Peyson's so the art on the walls and a lot of the clothes are her designs. We also carry several other local designers and a number of Halley's former classmate's designs. Ren, Halley's older sister, looks after the business side of things; for which I am eternally grateful to her for doing. I wouldn't have been able to do all this on my own. We've been doing pretty well too."

"I don't really know the first thing about fashion," he said, "But it's beautiful in here."

"Thank you," Miranda replied, "We've put so much into this place. What about you? What do you do for a living?"

He drew his attention away from the shop and focussed back on Miranda's face, causing her to blush slightly, "I'm an architect. I actually designed that building that we met in front of today."

Miranda laughed lightly, "Maybe it means that we were fated to meet."

The friendly atmosphere that they were both trying to maintain vanished as something else took over Miranda's words. It was as though an electric current ran through her veins as their eyes locked. "So what was the second condition?" She said suddenly, trying to regain the earlier ease of conversation.

The look he gave her was smouldering, but in an instant it was back at the same friendly one he had given her earlier, "Coffee. Let's go grab some. To replace the one I ended up wearing."

"Right. To replace the one you wore," she parroted, "Just let me tell my cousins I'm heading out."

"I'll wait for you," he told her, his tone implying that he meant more than just coffee.

Three months later

"It's official," Miranda sighed, "I'm in love."

"That's very nice Mira," Ren growled, "But how about we focus on our work rather than your semi-existent love life."

"It's not semi-existent," Miranda protested, "We're just taking it slow. Besides, I like all the romantic gestures; the notes, the flowers, the little gifts he leaves me."

"But you're still not having sex," Ren interjected, "Which means one of two things: he's not into you or he's gay."

This earned her a punch in the shoulder. "He's not gay. He's old-fashioned, which is a nice change of pace from all the jerks I've dated in the past. We just understand each other. Honestly Ren? I think he's the one, he's my soul mate. I think I can have with him what you have with Jamie."

Ren gave her a wistful smile, "Then I'm happy for you. So when do I finally get to meet him?"

"Soon," she replied, "I'm seeing him tonight so I'll mention it. We can do a double date."

Their conversation ended when the bell by the door jingled, indicating that someone had entered. Halley was upstairs in her small studio so Miranda headed over to greet the customer. "Good afternoon," she said cheerfully, "Welcome to Paphos. Were you looking for anything in particular today?"

As she went through her standard greeting, Miranda surveyed the customer. She was around her age with hair a slightly darker blonde than her own and green eyes. She was dressed in a dark blue suit that looked sombre when compared to Miranda's white and gold patterned sundress. Not their usual clientele then, but perhaps she was looking for a change.

"Oh no," the customer replied, "I just came to look around. Actually, I found the card for this shop in my husband's jacket. My birthday's coming up so I was worried, he has awful taste in gifts."

Miranda laughed. "A lot of our male customers are like that," she confided, "But I like to think that you can't really go wrong here. Just in case though, we make sure most of them leave with a gift receipt so that the recipient of the gift can exchange for something they do want. Why don't you take a look around, see if anything catches your eye just in case."

"That sounds good."

"I'll be up front if you have any questions."

She left the customer to browse and returned to where Ren was rearranging several handbags near the register. "Does she seem like she's going to buy?" Ren asked.

Miranda shrugged in response, "She's a definite maybe. She found our store's card in her husband's pocket so it might be an exchange at a later date."

"Excuse me?" the woman's voice called from somewhere near the middle of the store.

"Duty calls," Miranda said wryly, heading back.

She found the customer standing by the display of earrings she had just completed the evening before. "I was wondering if I could get a closer look at that pair."

Following where she pointed, Miranda's eyes fell upon one of her favourite pieces. They were a pair of drop earrings wrought in silver. At the top, she had moulded tiny seashells; hanging from a small loop at the bottom of the shells, she had created wire swirls like waves that met to form almost a cage. Inside each cage nestled a pale pink faceted stone, anchored in place by the intricate design of the wire.

Oddly unsettled by the woman's choice, she pulled the pair from the display and allowed her to examine them. "Is there a chance that this is what my husband bought?"

Miranda shook her head. "Each piece that is in our store is unique. Some may have similar motifs but there are no two that are exactly alike. Actually, I just finished making these earrings last night, so I can guarantee that he hasn't purchased them."

"You made these?" the customer asked, "They're beautiful. I'm jealous, I don't have a creative bone in my body. My husband always jokes that I even make stick figures look bad. I think I'll get myself an early birthday present and get these."

"Thank you," she answered, "Did you want to keep looking around? I can take these up to the register for you while you do."

The other woman nodded and continued to browse. Taking the earrings, Miranda went back to the register to package them. The unsettled feeling got stronger and stronger as she wrapped them in cream paper and placed them in the small turquoise box with the shop's name embossed in gold on top. Ren, always perceptive, picked up on this and nudged her with her elbow, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, "I'm okay, I think. Look, here she comes. I'll ring her up, but then I'm going to go grab some lunch."

Ren gave her a worried look, "Sure. If you want me to come, I'll go up and grab Halley to watch the shop for a while."

"It's fine, really. You stay and I'll pick something up for the two of you."

Pasting a bright smile on her face, she turned her attention back to the customer, "All ready to go?"

"Yes. I think I'll just go with the earrings."

"Great. I know they'll look fantastic on you. The total comes to $57.98."

She handed over her credit card and Miranda swiped it through and handed her the slip to sign. Looking down at the card she held to check the signature, Miranda froze. "Miss?" the customer prompted, "Is there something wrong with my card?"

Ren gave her a look and pried the card out of Miranda's unresponsive hand. Her eyes widened as she checked the signature, thankfully, she didn't freeze as Miranda had. She handed the card and bag to the waiting woman, "Ah, she gets like this once in a while. Artists you know. Enjoy your purchase Mrs. Flynn."

~*~

"Are you married?"

Keir froze in the act of taking off his jacket. Miranda repeated the question, her voice going up an octave, "Are you married?"

"Mira," he tried, moving closer to her.

She backed away, "Don't touch me. Answer the question Keir. I think you owe me that much."

For a long moment, he simply stood there, hands clenched at his sides, staring at her expressionlessly. Finally, as though a coil had been released within him, he slumped onto her couch, putting his head in his hands. "I'm married," he said quietly.

To Miranda, it was as though he shouted it. With that one statement her heart was breaking. "How could you?" she breathed, "You asshole. You're married? I fell in love with you and you're married?"

"You love me?" he asked.

"You're one sick fuck," she continued on, ignoring his question, "No wonder you didn't want to sleep with me. Was this some kind of fucking game for you? I met your wife today, you know? She came by our shop, wondering what her husband had gotten her for her birthday. God, I was so fucking stupid, the signs were there, and I was just too blind to see them."

"Mira," he pleaded, "I need you to listen to me."

"Why? So you can lie to me more?"

"Maria and I are separated," he said firmly, "We've been having problems this last year and we separated two months ago."

"I don't believe you," Miranda said stubbornly, "Why would she think you were getting her a birthday present then?"

"We grew up together," he answered, "Our families have been neighbours since we were four years old. When we got into high school, it seemed natural to start dating. We went to the same university, had the same goals. Marriage was the next logical step."

"Do you love her?"

"I do," he said honestly, "But like I would a family member. When I met you, it was like waking up from a long dream. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I know we haven't known each other for very long, but sometimes it feels like we've been together forever. Miranda, I love you."

"I hate you… but… I love you."

Keir moved closer to her and tentatively brushed the tears from her cheeks. His fingers were cool against her warmth and she leaned closer into the touch. He placed soft kisses over each of her eyelids then whispered her name before moving on to her mouth. This kiss was filled with tenderness. Miranda wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, dragging him closer as she deepened the kiss, demanding much more.

He pulled back, his eyes darkened to a gunmetal grey, his breath coming in pants. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Not trusting her voice, she stood and turned away from him. Looking back over her shoulder, she caught the frustration in his face before she slowly lowered the zipper on the back of her dress and allowed it to slide off of her into a puddle on the floor. Her bra and panties quickly followed suit. Turning back, she bared herself before him, physically and emotionally; her love for him plain on her face. He sat back on the couch for a moment, simply staring. Suddenly shy, she moved to cover herself. "Don't," he said hoarsely, and then he was up, embracing her, "You're beautiful."

Her shyness melted away as he kissed her once more, hot, deep and full of promise. "Let's go to your room."

~*~

"So how did he take it?" Ren asked the following day.

Miranda blushed a bright red that clashed with the pale green cashmere that she was wearing. "Mira, you did kick his ass to the curb last night, right?"

"Not quite," she admitted.

"He's married," Ren said flatly.

"They're separated," Miranda defended, "They're going to get divorced."

"But they're not divorced now."

"No, they're not. But it's complicated."

"Are those your words or his?"

"He's going to leave her for me," Miranda said firmly, "He loves me. Not her, me. It just takes time. He was with her for a long time, since high school so it's complicated. But he'll come through."

"Damn, do you even hear yourself?" Ren questioned.

"What I hear is my cousin, who I love like a sister, not supporting my choice. He's my choice Ren. I don't want to fight you over this. I have enough to deal with."

"I love you too Mira, that's why I'm acting like this. I'm scared that you'll just get burned."

"I'm scared too," Miranda said in a small voice, "That's why I need you."

Ren sighed and engulfed her in a tight hug, "You always have me. You know that. As for him, I can't make any promises, but I'll try, okay? But if he hurts you…"

"You can say I told you so as many times as you like," Miranda finished, giving her a wet smile.

"I was going to say that I'd beat the crap out of him then use Jamie's scads of cash to put a hit out on him."

Miranda giggled and hugged her tightly once more, "Love you."

"I know."

Two months more

The restaurant she had chosen was a tiny Italian bistro that she favoured. It was a place she felt comfortable, which was important, considering the party she dined with that evening. "Keir," she began, "I don't think you've formally met my cousin Ren. Ren Hanazono-Harte, Keir Flynn."

Ren shook his hand politely then gestured to the blonde man at her side, "This is my fiancé Jamie Summers."

Jamie stood and shook his hand as well, "Nice to meet you man. And yes, like the Bionic Woman."

Ren elbowed him for that comment. "Yeah," Miranda laughed nervously, aware of the tension brewing, "The two of them bonded over their parents' poor decisions in naming."

This earned her a deadly glare from Ren, which did not bode well for the evening. "I've heard so much about both of you from Mira I feel as though I know you already," Keir carried on with the polite small talk, "Although, I don't think she mentioned that Ren was short for something. Is it Renee?"

Jamie, intimately aware of just how much his fiancée hated any mention of her full name, jumped in. "Something like that," he replied genially, placing a soothing hand on the small of her back, "So, Mira tells me you're an architect?"

As the evening wore on, Miranda thanked her lucky stars that Ren had found someone as well suited to her as Jamie. He kept the conversation going, steering everyone away from awkward topics and made sure that Ren kept her cool, especially after Miranda's blunder at the beginning of dinner. They had managed to make it all the way to dessert before Ren's patience ran out and she dropped the bomb that Miranda had been fearing all night. "So how do you feel about marriage?" she questioned, keeping her tone innocent.

Keir hesitated, looking over at Miranda to see her reaction. In her head, Miranda understood why Ren had asked that question, and a part of her wanted to hear Keir's response. Unfortunately, her head and her heart weren't exactly working in conjunction lately. "I can't believe you," she said, her anger taking hold, "Who the hell do you think you are Renaissance Faire Hanazono-Harte? What gives you the right to judge me? To judge us?"

With that, she stormed out of the restaurant. Keir followed her out moments later, but neither of them spoke until they were in his car. "Renaissance Faire? Really?"

Miranda nodded, tears falling silently down her cheeks, "Her parents live in a commune out in Northern California. Very new-agey you know?"

"Then her sister Halley?"

"Halley's Comet Hanazono-Harte."

He shook his head and they continued to drive in silence for a while longer. "She apologized," he finally said.

"I should apologize," she sniffed.

"No, I should be the one apologizing."

Back to the present

"You okay Mira?" Halley questions her normally cheerful cousin.

Lately she has been different, taking less enjoyment in their shop and the tension between her and Ren has been noticeable. Ever since she began seeing Keir, it was as if the old Miranda had slowly faded away and been replaced with one that was constantly anxious, or upset or sad. "I'm fine squirt," Miranda replies, injecting false brightness into her tone, "All this rain has just got me feeling blue, that's all."

Leaning in the doorway of her office, Ren gives her a look laden with so much sadness that Miranda can't bear to meet her eyes. "Well, since its quiet, I'm going to go up and get some work done," she says quickly before fleeing up the stairs.

Locking the door to her studio, she calms herself down by going to each in-progress piece and examining them, giving some of the finished pieces a polish and handling a few of the loose stones and gems. Finally, she sits before her drafting table, a blank sheet of sketch paper before her. Try as she might though, nothing comes to her. Every time she goes to draw a line, she stops before making the first stroke. Frustrated, she tosses her pencil down and swings her chair around, facing her main worktable. On its surface sits a faceted pink crystal, cut into a sphere. The same kind of crystal in the earrings she had sold to Keir's wife all those months ago. Scooping it up, she leans back and contemplates it. 'Kunzite,' she recalls, 'Comes in a variety of colours but can fade in direct sunlight.'

As she gazes at it, she thinks about all she has gone through the past months with Keir and all that she has hoped for with him. She sits there until after the shop has closed for the day, after the sun has gone down; until she has come to a decision.

~*~

"Hey you," Keir says, dropping a kiss on the top of her head as he comes in, "Sorry I took off the other night while you were asleep. Something came up that I needed to take care of."

"Hey," Miranda replies, her voice soft, "We need to talk."

Keir stops in the middle of loosening his tie, "Sounds serious."

"It is. It's about us."

"I'm listening," he sits across from her, watching her intently.

"I can't do this anymore Keir," her voice is thick with pain, "I'm not strong enough. I love you with all my heart and soul, but can you say the same? You come to me, but then you leave to be with her. This might seem selfish, but I don't want to share you."

"I do love you," his voice tight, "But she and I have so much history and when I took those vows I meant them. To throw all that away so quickly would be like breaking from my duty to her. I just need more time."

"I can't give you that time anymore Keir. Every second I'm with you I'm breaking. If we keep going on like this, I won't have anything left."

"What are you saying?" he says, to her ears he sounds tortured.

"You need to go back home to your wife. Forget you ever met me and I'll try to pick up the pieces. Don't call me, don't come here, just leave."

"Mira, please…"

"Please Keir, don't make this harder than it already is. It just wasn't meant to be."

"If I had met you first…"

"Maybe in our next lives…"

He says nothing more, he simply picks up his things and leaves. Alone again, she curls up and weeps for love lost. On the windowsill, the pink stone she had placed there the other day has faded to a translucent white. Some things cannot last when brought into the light.