TO FIGHT THE ODDS
A/N - Directly after "The Four Percent Solution", initially takes place in Pennington Hospital.
"You know what makes the news better? We both are," I breathe to him.
"Together," he adds and squeezes my hand gently.
I feel my eyelids start to droop slightly, and a dull throbbing pulses through my face. I haven't seen myself in the mirror, but I'm sure I look like a ran right into a brick wall. I know I feel like I did.
"My chin feels like someone rubbed at it with sandpaper," I yawn out, "and Jesus, they did a good job at it." Harm glances down at our hands and locks gazes with me. I grasp his fingers firmly and close my eyes slightly. "You can leave if you want." The stark white of the hospital walls slowly starts to melt away as my mind starts to lose its perspicacity to the fatigue.
He doesn't respond, but I don't hear him move, or feel him extract his hand from mine. "Night, Mac," he whispers instead.
The Next Night…
"I saw your Corvette, or a picture of the scene, anyway," Harm says, shooting a sideways glance at me from the driver's seat. "It scared the hell out of me."
I balance the bag of ice against my left eye by leaning my head back. "I just have a few scratches."
"You need a new car," he points out as he veers into the next line. I notice he's driving with a bit more care than usual. He takes an extra few seconds to check in the rearview mirror, and put his turn signals on a bit earlier.
"I do," I sigh, "and I'd better go shopping for one soon."
"Did you have anything in mind?"
"No," I say bluntly, "but I don't think finances will really be a problem."
It's true after all. I earn a fair share of money, but what do I spend it on other than the bare essentials? I have no children, no significant other, nothing. I rarely even buy things for myself anymore, other than books, and the occasional movie rental.
He intakes a sharp breath as his 'vette comes to a stop. He fixes an intent gaze in my direction. "I think I'd like to help you pick one out. I mean, if you'd let me."
"I'd like that," I nod just slightly, to prevent the ice from sliding off my face. The bruising just started to arrive the night before, shortly after the skin healed itself over. It hurts like a bitch, if I move the facial muscles too much. This generally makes the expressing of emotion nearly impossible. "Thank you for coming. I never got the chance to tell you before."
"I wouldn't have just left you, Mac," Harm mutters. "Expect a bit more from me, alright?"
"I didn't mean it like that," I snap. I gasp slightly as a shooting pain creeps up my jaw bone. "Jesus…"
Harm accelerates the car again and I'm pressed back slightly into my seat. "You're not coming in tomorrow, right?"
"Maybe…" I start.
"No, you're not," he says firmly.
We've pulled up to my apartment, I realize. He gets out of the car, and I can hear the faint thumping of his feet against the asphalt outside as he comes around to open my door. When he does, I manage to half-slide, half-stumble out of the seat and trudge towards the apartment door. I wave to him to follow, and he does.
Within, he takes out his spare key and pushes the door open. It's just as dim as I left it. He immediately strides to the kitchen and I can hear him messing about as I sit at my couch. I glance at the dining table on the way; there have always been four chairs around that table, ever since I bought the place. I don't know why three extra ones have ever really been needed.
"Tea," he frowns and sets it in front of me. He sits beside me and waits expectantly for me to drink it. I don't though.
"So you and Ms. Montes, huh?" I try to smile, but my face screams no.
"Alicia? No," he laughs, "did you really think…"
"What am I supposed to think?" I sigh, and finally reach out to take the steaming mug in my hands. The ceramic warms up my fingers immediately as I nurse the drink. "A woman is in your house and you're cooking dinner for her, Harm."
He leans forward slightly in his chair with interest. "Is that why you left, that night?"
"No, I remembered I had dry cleaner's to pick up," I say without meeting his gaze. "No really?"
"What were you coming by for? I mean, I meant to call you, but you left JAG so early the next day…" he begins as he studies the snow falling outside the window.
"Never mind," I cut him off hastily, "it's not important. Just wanted to talk, that's all."
"About what?" he presses gently.
"The night of the Admiral's party," I mumble, "you talked about…"
His eyes go wide and he seems taken aback. "You're actually considering it now? I thought you said that-"
"You've moved on, Harm. I can't ask you to keep on waiting," I amend quickly. "Maybe you should get going home. I might have a day off, but you certainly don't."
"I haven't moved anywhere." He gets up and takes a step towards me as he reaches out and leans against the arm of the couch beside me, propping himself up with his hands. "I'm right here."
I lean back slightly to see him peering over me. I squint in the dull light as he reaches down to my shoulder and squeezes. "I wasn't lying that day during the retirement party. I want it to be between both of us."
"What about Alicia?"
He moves to the side of the chair and crouches down, but takes care not to touch me. "I just told you about her. I swear, Mac, it's nothing."
I reach out and take his hand in mine. "I know." The shadows in the room mask his face, and dark areas beneath his brows obscure his eyes. I decide I'd like to see him fully. "Would you mind turning on the lights?"
Harm nods and stands up to his full height as he towers over me. With a few long steps, he's reached the table beside the television, and clicks the small switch on. Then in another few strides, he's beside me again, but I don't really register the movement. "I want to be here with you, Mac," he says.
"Why did you keep holding on?" I choke out. "Any other man would have run far away after what I did...and never come back."
"Because I…" he freezes and swallows. Maybe even after Mattie, he hasn't really changed. Maybe he's still the same way about commitment. Maybe I was wrong.
I decide to take a jump for it. Not just a jump, a leap. Scratch that, it's like vaulting over the gap of the Grand Canyon. "Because you love me?"
I'm suddenly aware of the eerie silence in the room. That's it then – he doesn't. Now, he definitely won't want anything to do with me. Certainly now, he'll run away and never come back. I know I probably would if someone did this to me.
"I do," he says, taking me aback. "And I don't even think that would describe what I feel for you. I've been in love before, Mac. What I want with you isn't just love – it's total and utter…togetherness." He laughs, "the words aren't really coming out properly. It's not nearly as poetic as I imagined."
"You know I'd probably kiss you right now," I say finally. "A lot," I say as I gingerly run my fingers along my face and hiss in a breath with a sardonic laugh, "but I can't."
"Really?" he says as he grasps my hand.
"Yes," I nod, "because I want it too. That 'togetherness'."
Harm pulls my hand and presses his lips to my wrist gently. "I think you really deserve it right about now."
He immediately leans in and wraps his arms around me. "I'm so sorry," I whisper into the folds of his clothes, "that I can't give you what you want."
"I want you, Mac. It's silly to say you can't give yourself."
"A child, Harm. Your own child. I've always wanted one of my own, and to take that very same need away from you-"
"Shut up," he says lightly. He doesn't need to repeat his whole argument from the night of the Admiral's party, so I leave it at that, and he doesn't add anything further to it.
I mumble into his clothing. "I'm also sorry for-"
"Let's just not talk for a while, ok?" he says a bit curtly. "I don't think any words could really express the regret about all the things we've done in the past. Let's just leave it as it is, because we're here right now."
"Fine," I say with a dull nod. Before I know it, I'm falling asleep.
Several Days Later…
I feel the cool sensation of the glass window in Harm's 'vette as I lean against it. We've agreed to meet this weekend to purchase of my sorely needed vehicle. He's been driving me around the city for the past week, whether it be to work, or to do groceries. Frankly, I'm starting to feel quite dependant on him – even vulnerable.
He turns the ignition of the car off and looks at me expectantly. Usually, he's left me here, and I'm left to go upstairs to my apartment alone. I decide to change that. "Want to come up?"
"Sure," he says.
We head up the elevator in silence and into the apartment. I glance by the mirror that hangs on the wall as I go in and study my face. The remnants of a particularly nasty bruise are present as a dark ring under my eye, but other than that, everything has healed over well. There hasn't been any major pain for the past few days.
"How about dinner?" Harm asks. He watches me from behind as I furrow my brow and squint at the details of all my features.
"I was thinking of just ordering in," I admit. "I'm really not in the mood for much cooking."
"Let's get some Chinese."
He walks to my phone, opens the cupboard beneath and pulls out the rather large directory. I watch him as he does this, and notice many things about him that I missed during our time apart, when there was that separating rift between us after Paraguay, like the way his eyes crinkle just slightly as he furrows his brows and searches for the correct restaurant. Or the way he reaches over the book stiffly, not allowing his arms any fluidly as he flips the pages. There are countless other things.
I realize I've walked over to him, and that I am standing over his form. He fails to notice me until he reaches over, picks up the phone and sees me stopping him with my own arm. "Harm…"
"You don't want Chinese?" he asks as he lets his arm fall down to the side table. "Maybe we can get some Mexican, to go, if they're still open."
I lean down and wrap my arms around his neck, before pulling his head towards my own. I crush my lips to his, and I can feel his arms sliding around me to the small of my back as he pulls me all the way down to the couch beside him. "Mac," he breathes against my lips. Oh God, how I've wanted this.
He reaches up and manages to extract the bobby pins from my hair, and the locks fall down slowly to my shoulders in little groups. I pull him up by his uniform collar roughly and try to haul him to my bedroom when he stops me.
I'm left to stare at him breathless for an explanation. I realize only one of my high heels is off, and I must limp back slightly to get a better vantage point of his looming form. I release the rest of my hair that has been sitting in a heap on my head to break the stillness in the room.
"Are you sure this is alright?" He studies the pins that sit motionless in the palm of his hand before leaving them on the coffee table.
I realize after a moment that he's talking about my 'condition', not us. "I'll be alright." I need to be alright, because I need him.
"Have you discussed it with your doctor?"
"No," I admit, annoyed that he's picking at this, "but I'm fine. Harm, please." I take another step forward and encompass him with my arms before leaning up and planting several kisses against his neck and jaw line. I start to undo the topmost of the buttons on his uniform shirt, but he freezes as I do so.
"I don't want to hurt you," he says and rests his head to mine, abruptly putting a stop to my ministrations and nearly all of my mobility.
I concede and let him pull me down to the couch. "We can wait," I say finally. "I don't mind." Truth be told, I want him so badly, but I know he's right.
"I can leave if you'd like," he says without moving.
"Stay. If you don't mind."
Harm lets go of me and takes a step towards the door. "I'll get my bag from the 'vette."
And he leaves as I nod. I march into my own room, look inside the drawers and find fairly suitable shorts and a Corps T-shirt. I eye a slinky, lace black number that sits in the corner, but don't touch it. He's not ready for that just yet, and neither am I. I slip out of my thick uniform and feel much more unfettered as the light material of the casual wear touches my skin. I exhale a breath as I hear Harm re-entering the apartment and go back outside to meet him, grabbing my robe along the way.
He sees me and focuses his gaze behind me. "Should I change…"
"Oh," I manage to mumble out and retreat back into the room and close the door. "Go on."
I can hear him unzipping the sea bag as he mills around for his things. I lean my head against the door and wrap the robe tightly around my waist before tying it solidly – I won't succumb to temptation tonight, nor will I tempt him. I'll sleep on the couch, I decide.
"Ready," comes his muffled voice through the wood of the door. I swing it open to find him folding away his blues as he leans over the couch. "I'll take the couch," he says immediately and goes towards the linen closet beside my bedroom.
"I asked you to stay here, you go to the bed." I meet him, bring out a thick comforter, and take it to the sitting area. I air it out slightly and leave it unfurled along the couch.
He nudges me aside and sits on it firmly. "I don't want anything to exacerbate your back."
I sit beside him and try to glare at him the best I can, but he merely crosses his arms and raises a brow. "Check and mate, counselor. I'm not leaving," I say.
"Then I guess I'll just have to sleep on this cold, hard floor," Harm says, pointing to the carpet. "You wouldn't be so cruel as to do that to me, would you Mac?"
I get up and frown. "Come help me get the stuff, Harm."
He follows me into my room after throwing a grin of victory at me and I toss him the first pillow I see from the bed. He comes beside me and I give him one more, which he tucks under his arm safely. I sit on the bed as he starts to leave, but he turns around at the door. "Mac…" I don't want him to leave.
"What?"
Harm takes a few hesitant steps towards me and throws the pillows back onto the bed. I watch as he runs his fingers through his hair and puts his hands on his hips before plopping down beside me. "What we did earlier, its not that I don't want it."
"Alright," I nod. "That's fine."
He leans in slowly and brushes his lips to my cheek, where the bruise is. "I do. I want it so much." I realize that my hand has wandered and is now covering my lower abdomen self-consciously. He reaches out and envelops my hand in his with a small smile. "You'll make it through this, Mac. You're the strongest person I know."
"Stay here," I say after a moment of silence. I let the robe slip off my shoulders and push it to the ground. "Just tonight. We don't have to do anything."
Harm studies me intently and I avert my eyes. "I don't want it to be 'just tonight'."
I don't know how to answer that and simply fall over and lie straight on my back on the bed. Harm joins me after a moment and pulls the covers up over our waists. I take his hand in mine and replace it over my stomach and close my eyes. "Goodnight, Harm," I whisper. I roll over and face him, bringing my hand up to his face. "This is how it should have been after Paraguay."
"And Australia," he says, and presses his fingers a bit more into my skin at my stomach. His touch is gentle, and I want more of it, but this will be the extent of our intimacy tonight.
He reaches up over me and turns off the light. "Love you, Mac." The words, though I know have been uttered before, still send butterflies to my stomach.
I roll up the material of my shirt slightly and squint in the dark to see the flat surface of my stomach. He hesitates to touch my bare skin but I press his hand down once more. "It looks alright from out here," I laugh softly.
Harm boldly runs his fingers across the skin and moves his head to press his lips against my neck. He says nothing though, and I know that's alright. I close my eyes as Harm delicately pulls down the shirt again and wraps his leg around mine.
His breathing evens out slowly and I find myself murmuring out a final few words before drifting off. "I love you so much, Harm." In the dull light, I see the corners of his lips turn up in a small smile, and he yawns before slipping into slumber.
There may be a few kinks here and there in that All-American dream that I thought I would live when I was a child, but it's alright. We can still have our white picket fence, and our golden retriever, and we'll always have each other. Regardless of what does or does not happen, I know at that moment he'll be there for me, and I for him. Forever and always, just like it was meant to be.
THE END