Qualifying Things
by Lucy Garner
Category: H/M
Spoilers: Adrift I/II, general Mac wedding nonsense
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes a little confusion is a good thing.
*************
"Thanks for driving me down, Mac. A three-hour drive is way above and
beyond," Harm said, looking at his watch. They had made incredible
time from Falls Church. He wouldn't have to report in for over two
hours.
"*Please,*" she insisted, holding up a hand to stop him. "This drive
is exactly what I needed. Well, that and a bath. There's nothing
quite like getting to roll around in the sewer with a client like
Commander Bynes."
After eleven days of preparation and a day of pre-trial motions, an
independent source verified Mac's strong suspicion that her client,
Commander Brice Bynes, had been bald-faced lying to her about a sexual
harassment charge since the beginning of discovery. Score one for
women's intuition.
The only independent witness who could corroborate her suspicions had
been lying comatose and undeposed in a South Carolina hospital after an
unrelated car accident. A month before, on the date of the alleged
sexual harassment, Petty Officer Ryan Reynolds was passing by the open
hatch as Taylor suggested to a young ensign radio operator that her
promotion would be forthcoming if she was more *friendly.*
Fifteen days later as Ensign Valerie Morales was getting up the
gumption to file charges against her commanding officer, PO Reynolds
slipped off a rainy roadway in his supply truck, hitting an oak tree.
Morales reported and charges were filed. Bynes scoffed and waved his
impeccable service record like a checkered flag.
When Reynolds awoke Tuesday to news that his whole unit was in an
uproar over the charges, he phoned the base JAG with a story to tell.
He hadn't reported the conversation because the female ensign hadn't
either, but now that she'd come forward and he was conscious, all bets
were off. Commander Bynes was a first class jerk, anyway. Good
riddance to bad rubbish.
Harm popped the latch and pulled his duffel bag from behind the
passenger seat of Mac's Corvette. "Still, I owe you one. What'll it
be?"
Mac strolled around to Harm's side of the car, deep in thought. "You
can pay me back by being careful on your quals."
"But I'm *always* careful," Harm insisted, all wounded innocence.
"Riiiiight." Mac smirked at the notion of a hotdog like Harm being
careful at the stick of a Tomcat. "Paint the molding in my bedroom.
You're taller than I am."
"Done," he agreed with a broad smile.
Mac propped an elbow up on the car door. "I really don't want you to
take this the wrong way, but honestly, how much longer do you think
you'll be doing quals?"
Nearly a year had passed since Harm's last carrier landing quals. It
would take longer than that to erase their memories of his and Skates'
ditch in a storm-tossed sea and the frantic, almost fruitless rescue
efforts that followed. The pain of it lingered on for both of them,
but for different reasons. For Mac, it was the confusion surrounding
her almost-wedding and the agony of nearly losing him forever. For
Harm, it was equal parts of causing so much hurt to people he loved and
a sense of failure over the flight, even if the indications at takeoff
had been that he and Skates were in the clear.
"I don't know, really. I think the flight in the Med was some
vindication, although I'm not sure I'd sign up to be chased by a nuke
again. I know I would prefer my last official qual in a Tomcat end
with a soft touchdown on the deck rather than a ditch in the Atlantic.
Since the weather looks so good right now, I think I can do that."
"That makes sense to me. And for what it's worth, I'm sure you'll do
fine." There was a time after his last brief tour of duty on a carrier
when he thought they would never see eye to eye about his flying. He
watched her face, her eyes as she listened. Harm's relief was great to
see that she seemed genuinely content with his answer.
"Also, our country is in a time of war, and I believe it's my duty to
remain a qualified pilot as long as I'm useful to the United States
Navy in that capacity...even if I have moved on to another duty
station."
Mac laughed and waved him off. "Fine, Harm, I'm not arguing with you,
but do me a favor. I'm not having a big personal crisis at the moment,
so you don't have to leave the carrier in an electrical storm just to
get back here for me, okay?"
"Well aren't you a little presumptuous, counselor? Somebody's assuming
facts not in evidence." Harm bent down to pick up his sea bag. Had
he been looking, he would have seen the playful smile on Mac's lips
vanish like it had been slapped off. He shouldered the duffel and as
he looked up, he was surprised to see was walking away.
"Mac? Bye???"
She hesitated. "Be careful, Harm. I'll see you next week," she said
and moved to go without making eye contact.
Harm gaped at her, at the sudden change in her demeanor. Did he say
something? He repeated back in his mind what he'd been saying to her.
*...just to get back home for me...*
*... aren't you a little presumptuous...?"
As in Harm's rushing back from the carrier was just about being
honorable and not breaking a promise – and that Mac was assuming more
than she had a right to by saying his rush to get home last year was
about her.
"Hey, Mac, wait!" He dropped his duffel and jogged after her, but she
kept walking.
"You've gotta go report," she said evenly. From behind, he could see
her digging in her pocket for the car keys. Harm knew he couldn't let
her. He reached out and grabbed the back of her leather jacket and
held on with an iron grip. Mac ground to a halt but did not turn
around. "Stop fooling around, Harm."
"Just *wait*!" He practically yelled it and she flinched. "*Please.*
I'm sorry Mac, but what you heard isn't what it sounded like in my head
and I need a do-over. You can't go yet."
Harm tugged at her jacket, but Mac was an immovable object, so he
circled around in front of her instead. A credit to her Marine
constitution, not a tear was visible. But perhaps that was only
because she was still so shocked at what she'd heard. Every emotional
brick she had managed to build in the short trip back to the driver's
side door, and there were quite a few of them, stood resolutely in
place.
"For someone who makes a living talking I'm still not very good at
this, but I'm going to try to make myself plain." Harm tilted her face
up so she had to look him in the eyes and she shifted uncomfortably.
Harm moved his hand around behind her neck to hold her firmly in place.
"What I was trying to say was who says I don't have a good reason to
hurry home from quals this year, too?"
A second passed, and Mac's eyes widened with understanding, and if he
read her right, a certain amount of embarrassment. Harm nodded. "You
*can't* believe I meant it another way."
Mac opened her mouth to say something, but whatever she was thinking
wouldn't become words.
Harm looked away shamefaced. "I've *have* to get better at this."
Embarrassment burning hot in her cheeks, all Mac wanted to do was let
him off the hook and make her escape. They could make sense of this
conversation next week when he got home. "Harm, it's okay. I
understand now, so don't worry about it...okay?"
"My wording was suspect, but there is no reason why you'd so easily be
made to feel that way...you've gotta know..." Mac's eyebrows shot up
in protest the way they did in the courtroom right before she made an
objection.
Talking had gotten him in enough trouble, so he cut off the coming
rebuttal and kissed her soundly. Harm pulled her closer and forgot for
a moment that they were standing in front of the officer's quarters on
a Navy base. He slid his hand back to her face, stroking his thumb
lightly across her cheek, and finally pulled away.
Mac's liquid brown eyes fluttered open. The shock on her face melted
away as she gathered her wits and poked him squarely in the chest. "If
you think I'm going to pretend that didn't happen when you get home
next week, you're out of your mind, Harm."
"You won't have to," he said with a wry huff of laughter. "Part of me
feels bad for you, because you're just going to have to take me like I
am -- always looking over my shoulder, waiting for something to go
wrong. But I can't keep pretending I'm happy having you at arm's
length. It's a lie. It's not fair to you, and it's killing me."
Laughing, Mac wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard.
"This isn't going to go down in the books as the most romantic
beginning, but somehow that's fitting."
Harm smiled and hugged her tight as the burden of seven years of denial
trickled away. This wasn't pretty, but it was right.
Something in the periphery caught Mac's eye and she squirmed in his
embrace, looking past him toward the VOQ.
"Looking over my shoulder *for* me, Mac? That's awfully sweet," he
teased.
"Actually, Skates is standing on the stairs smiling at us like the cat
who swallowed the canary."
Harm growled low in his chest. "Skates!" he bellowed.
"When you called to tell me our quals were scheduled for this week you
left out some important information, Hammer," Lieutenant Elizabeth
Hawkes shouted back. "Anything you want to tell me?"
"Inside, now! I'll deal with you in a minute." Amusement was plain in
his voice, but Skates edged toward the door as she replied. "Not like
that, you won't. I'm a married woman!"
The door banged closed behind Skates and Mac doubled over in a wave of
laughter. "You're not going to get a moment's peace on this cruise."
"You're absolutely right," he agreed, his expression more serious.
"But at least it's a short cruise...for more reasons than that." He
kissed her softly on the forehead and hoisted his bag to his shoulder.
"Be back soon," he whispered in her ear and pulled away.
When he'd gotten as far as the top of the stairs he looked back.
"Pick out some paint while I'm gone, Mac. I'm feeling pretty
domestic."
This time when the front door of the VOQ slammed to, Mac was standing
in the parking lot with her hand covering her mouth, alone.
But not nearly so alone as before.
###
by Lucy Garner
Category: H/M
Spoilers: Adrift I/II, general Mac wedding nonsense
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes a little confusion is a good thing.
*************
"Thanks for driving me down, Mac. A three-hour drive is way above and
beyond," Harm said, looking at his watch. They had made incredible
time from Falls Church. He wouldn't have to report in for over two
hours.
"*Please,*" she insisted, holding up a hand to stop him. "This drive
is exactly what I needed. Well, that and a bath. There's nothing
quite like getting to roll around in the sewer with a client like
Commander Bynes."
After eleven days of preparation and a day of pre-trial motions, an
independent source verified Mac's strong suspicion that her client,
Commander Brice Bynes, had been bald-faced lying to her about a sexual
harassment charge since the beginning of discovery. Score one for
women's intuition.
The only independent witness who could corroborate her suspicions had
been lying comatose and undeposed in a South Carolina hospital after an
unrelated car accident. A month before, on the date of the alleged
sexual harassment, Petty Officer Ryan Reynolds was passing by the open
hatch as Taylor suggested to a young ensign radio operator that her
promotion would be forthcoming if she was more *friendly.*
Fifteen days later as Ensign Valerie Morales was getting up the
gumption to file charges against her commanding officer, PO Reynolds
slipped off a rainy roadway in his supply truck, hitting an oak tree.
Morales reported and charges were filed. Bynes scoffed and waved his
impeccable service record like a checkered flag.
When Reynolds awoke Tuesday to news that his whole unit was in an
uproar over the charges, he phoned the base JAG with a story to tell.
He hadn't reported the conversation because the female ensign hadn't
either, but now that she'd come forward and he was conscious, all bets
were off. Commander Bynes was a first class jerk, anyway. Good
riddance to bad rubbish.
Harm popped the latch and pulled his duffel bag from behind the
passenger seat of Mac's Corvette. "Still, I owe you one. What'll it
be?"
Mac strolled around to Harm's side of the car, deep in thought. "You
can pay me back by being careful on your quals."
"But I'm *always* careful," Harm insisted, all wounded innocence.
"Riiiiight." Mac smirked at the notion of a hotdog like Harm being
careful at the stick of a Tomcat. "Paint the molding in my bedroom.
You're taller than I am."
"Done," he agreed with a broad smile.
Mac propped an elbow up on the car door. "I really don't want you to
take this the wrong way, but honestly, how much longer do you think
you'll be doing quals?"
Nearly a year had passed since Harm's last carrier landing quals. It
would take longer than that to erase their memories of his and Skates'
ditch in a storm-tossed sea and the frantic, almost fruitless rescue
efforts that followed. The pain of it lingered on for both of them,
but for different reasons. For Mac, it was the confusion surrounding
her almost-wedding and the agony of nearly losing him forever. For
Harm, it was equal parts of causing so much hurt to people he loved and
a sense of failure over the flight, even if the indications at takeoff
had been that he and Skates were in the clear.
"I don't know, really. I think the flight in the Med was some
vindication, although I'm not sure I'd sign up to be chased by a nuke
again. I know I would prefer my last official qual in a Tomcat end
with a soft touchdown on the deck rather than a ditch in the Atlantic.
Since the weather looks so good right now, I think I can do that."
"That makes sense to me. And for what it's worth, I'm sure you'll do
fine." There was a time after his last brief tour of duty on a carrier
when he thought they would never see eye to eye about his flying. He
watched her face, her eyes as she listened. Harm's relief was great to
see that she seemed genuinely content with his answer.
"Also, our country is in a time of war, and I believe it's my duty to
remain a qualified pilot as long as I'm useful to the United States
Navy in that capacity...even if I have moved on to another duty
station."
Mac laughed and waved him off. "Fine, Harm, I'm not arguing with you,
but do me a favor. I'm not having a big personal crisis at the moment,
so you don't have to leave the carrier in an electrical storm just to
get back here for me, okay?"
"Well aren't you a little presumptuous, counselor? Somebody's assuming
facts not in evidence." Harm bent down to pick up his sea bag. Had
he been looking, he would have seen the playful smile on Mac's lips
vanish like it had been slapped off. He shouldered the duffel and as
he looked up, he was surprised to see was walking away.
"Mac? Bye???"
She hesitated. "Be careful, Harm. I'll see you next week," she said
and moved to go without making eye contact.
Harm gaped at her, at the sudden change in her demeanor. Did he say
something? He repeated back in his mind what he'd been saying to her.
*...just to get back home for me...*
*... aren't you a little presumptuous...?"
As in Harm's rushing back from the carrier was just about being
honorable and not breaking a promise – and that Mac was assuming more
than she had a right to by saying his rush to get home last year was
about her.
"Hey, Mac, wait!" He dropped his duffel and jogged after her, but she
kept walking.
"You've gotta go report," she said evenly. From behind, he could see
her digging in her pocket for the car keys. Harm knew he couldn't let
her. He reached out and grabbed the back of her leather jacket and
held on with an iron grip. Mac ground to a halt but did not turn
around. "Stop fooling around, Harm."
"Just *wait*!" He practically yelled it and she flinched. "*Please.*
I'm sorry Mac, but what you heard isn't what it sounded like in my head
and I need a do-over. You can't go yet."
Harm tugged at her jacket, but Mac was an immovable object, so he
circled around in front of her instead. A credit to her Marine
constitution, not a tear was visible. But perhaps that was only
because she was still so shocked at what she'd heard. Every emotional
brick she had managed to build in the short trip back to the driver's
side door, and there were quite a few of them, stood resolutely in
place.
"For someone who makes a living talking I'm still not very good at
this, but I'm going to try to make myself plain." Harm tilted her face
up so she had to look him in the eyes and she shifted uncomfortably.
Harm moved his hand around behind her neck to hold her firmly in place.
"What I was trying to say was who says I don't have a good reason to
hurry home from quals this year, too?"
A second passed, and Mac's eyes widened with understanding, and if he
read her right, a certain amount of embarrassment. Harm nodded. "You
*can't* believe I meant it another way."
Mac opened her mouth to say something, but whatever she was thinking
wouldn't become words.
Harm looked away shamefaced. "I've *have* to get better at this."
Embarrassment burning hot in her cheeks, all Mac wanted to do was let
him off the hook and make her escape. They could make sense of this
conversation next week when he got home. "Harm, it's okay. I
understand now, so don't worry about it...okay?"
"My wording was suspect, but there is no reason why you'd so easily be
made to feel that way...you've gotta know..." Mac's eyebrows shot up
in protest the way they did in the courtroom right before she made an
objection.
Talking had gotten him in enough trouble, so he cut off the coming
rebuttal and kissed her soundly. Harm pulled her closer and forgot for
a moment that they were standing in front of the officer's quarters on
a Navy base. He slid his hand back to her face, stroking his thumb
lightly across her cheek, and finally pulled away.
Mac's liquid brown eyes fluttered open. The shock on her face melted
away as she gathered her wits and poked him squarely in the chest. "If
you think I'm going to pretend that didn't happen when you get home
next week, you're out of your mind, Harm."
"You won't have to," he said with a wry huff of laughter. "Part of me
feels bad for you, because you're just going to have to take me like I
am -- always looking over my shoulder, waiting for something to go
wrong. But I can't keep pretending I'm happy having you at arm's
length. It's a lie. It's not fair to you, and it's killing me."
Laughing, Mac wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard.
"This isn't going to go down in the books as the most romantic
beginning, but somehow that's fitting."
Harm smiled and hugged her tight as the burden of seven years of denial
trickled away. This wasn't pretty, but it was right.
Something in the periphery caught Mac's eye and she squirmed in his
embrace, looking past him toward the VOQ.
"Looking over my shoulder *for* me, Mac? That's awfully sweet," he
teased.
"Actually, Skates is standing on the stairs smiling at us like the cat
who swallowed the canary."
Harm growled low in his chest. "Skates!" he bellowed.
"When you called to tell me our quals were scheduled for this week you
left out some important information, Hammer," Lieutenant Elizabeth
Hawkes shouted back. "Anything you want to tell me?"
"Inside, now! I'll deal with you in a minute." Amusement was plain in
his voice, but Skates edged toward the door as she replied. "Not like
that, you won't. I'm a married woman!"
The door banged closed behind Skates and Mac doubled over in a wave of
laughter. "You're not going to get a moment's peace on this cruise."
"You're absolutely right," he agreed, his expression more serious.
"But at least it's a short cruise...for more reasons than that." He
kissed her softly on the forehead and hoisted his bag to his shoulder.
"Be back soon," he whispered in her ear and pulled away.
When he'd gotten as far as the top of the stairs he looked back.
"Pick out some paint while I'm gone, Mac. I'm feeling pretty
domestic."
This time when the front door of the VOQ slammed to, Mac was standing
in the parking lot with her hand covering her mouth, alone.
But not nearly so alone as before.
###