Chapter Text
Farmer’s Market
“What are you doing here?” Hardy thought Miller's tone sounded far more accusatory than if he had walked into her house unannounced. He rolled his eyes. Weren’t they past the point where running into each other in the wild would be akin to running into your teacher outside of the school?
“You’re a detective,” he held up a jar he’d just purchased from one of the market vendors. Why would she even ask the question when the answer was clearly ‘spending a small fortune on sauerkraut?’
“What?” Miller looked at the jar, aghast.
Hardy stared back. “See you tomorrow, Miller.”
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Strawberries
“Daize?” The lights were off in the house when Hardy returned home from work. 7pm on a school night meant his daughter should be home studying–or at least pretending she was studying when he walked in the door.
“Darling?” Hardy called down the hall, not discounting the possibility that she was just in her room. No answer. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through several missed text messages until he found one from Daisy. Hardy held the phone far away enough from his face to make out the small font and read her message.
Study group tonight. I’ll be back by 9. Chloe stopped by with some strawberries, they’re in the fridge. You should have some before they go bad.
He tossed the phone on the table after responding with a simple, “ok, but no later than 9.” Hardy started the kettle, and opened the refrigerator. A rather large bowl of strawberries sat on the middle shelf. He took it out, and stood in the kitchen with the refrigerator door still open, staring at the berries. Hardy snorted, thinking that if Daisy had been there to see him, she probably would have told him they weren’t going to attack him. He closed the refrigerator and set the bowl on the counter before rinsing off a single strawberry. Deciding washing them individually seemed silly, he dug the colander out of the bottom cupboard, dumped the entire bowl into it, and rinsed the rest before putting them back in the original bowl. He set them down on the table, and began going through the mail.
Without looking or paying attention to what he was doing, he picked a strawberry out of the bowl and popped it in his mouth. The taste startled him, made him wonder when the last time he’d eaten anything sweet at all. He’d never been overly fond of sweets, even before his heart had forced him into a healthier diet. Sure, fruits were healthy, but he usually viewed them as a slightly annoying sweet that required some prep work to clean (and ensure you don’t accidentally eat the leafy part on top). He certainly never shared Miller’s love of chocolate. He had to admit the berries were rather delightful, though. Hardy absently plucked a few more from the bowl as he moved on from the mail to the case folder he’d brought home. By the time Daisy came home, he’d eaten half of them.
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Adventure
“You’re going to stay with Uncle Alec for a bit. It’ll be an adventure!”
Hardy saw the reluctant look as Fred nodded. He busied himself tidying papers on the table as Miller turned to walk out of the house. She shot Hardy an appreciative glance, closing the door behind her. Hardy had whined and complained when she’d asked, but secretly he was glad to be able to help watch Fred for a few hours while Miller ran a few errands. He just wasn’t overly fond of the word ‘adventure.’ An adventure was the last thing he ever wished to have.
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Photographs (sometimes you see a prompt and just have to violate your own HC/longer fic continuity a little bit)
“Where’d you get this?” Miller held the photograph gingerly between two fingers, as if simply looking at it might cause it to light itself on fire. Hardy was fiercely private, and she figured that if he possessed the ability to rig a picture of his teenage self to instantly combust if seen by someone such as herself, he would in a heartbeat. There were four boys in the photo, but she had no trouble immediately identifying Hardy. Three of the boys stood together smiling, seemingly mid-rough house, while the fourth—a tall, lanky boy of about 14 or 15, stood just slightly off to the side. Even at a young age, he looked as if someone had needed to hold him at gunpoint just to get him in the family photo, if these were even family photos. Miller couldn’t be entirely sure. The other boys shared a certain resemblance, but Hardy’s dark eyes, wild hair, and clear discomfort seemed to mark him as an outsider.
Daisy grinned, “you won’t be upset on his behalf?”
Miller tried to look shocked at the prospect of Daisy snooping so thoroughly through her father’s bedroom, in whatever well-hidden corner beneath his bed she assumed he’d stash anything remotely personal, but she couldn’t hide the gossipy anticipation in her eyes.
“He got a letter in the mail. Someone named Matt Roberts sent it. I may have accidentally opened it.”
“Daisy!”
“I know, I shouldn’t have. There are other photos,” Daisy produced a small pile of about 5 additional pictures, along with a slip of paper that just read, “I swear I didn’t abuse police resources too much to look you up. I just thought you might like to have some of these, Matt.” She handed them to Miller.
“Ooooh, cryptic,” Miller mumbled, handing the paper back to Daisy as she examined the photos. Her heart broke as recognized the same body language in all of them, arms either crossed or on his hips as he stood just a few feet from the others, a strangely familiar tired sadness in his eyes, never smiling in a single shot.
Miller went to hand them back to Daisy, “I feel like we’re not meant to see these,” she said, gasping suddenly as she saw the last photo. Hardy was the only one in that photo. And he was posing? With a hockey stick? On ice? Miller stared at the image. He was fully dressed in hockey gear, minus a helmet, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, and a giant grin plastered across his face. He almost looked like an entirely different child. Without context, it would have taken her a great deal of effort to guess who it could have been. And even after serious deliberation, she couldn’t be sure she ever would have said it was Alec Hardy. She recalled the time Bob had convinced most of CID to post childhood pictures on the bulletin board as a morale boosting “match the copper to the kiddo” game. Miller knew Hardy would rather eat glass than participate in anything like that. She also couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of this photo on Bob’s board.
“What?” was the only word Miller had in response to the picture.
“Can you imagine?” Daisy asked.
“No, not at all. Blimey. We have to put these back. Where’s the envelope?” If Miller had felt uneasy before, she definitely did now.
Daisy handed it to her. Miller inspected it, stuffing the photos back in as she admired Daisy’s handiwork. She had taken great care while opening her father's mail, and they’d be able to do a fairly convincing job sealing it back up, concealing their snooping. Daisy tucked it back between a few other pieces of mail just as Hardy’s car pulled up to the house. The two of them broke down in a fit of giggles.
“Miller, what are you doing here?” he said as he walked in. It only made Miller and Daisy laugh harder. Hardy rolled his eyes, and headed down the hall.