Retreat, Mac!

Disclaimer: JAG and its characters are the property of Bellisarius Productions. I'm just borrowing them for my, and hopefully other people's, entertainment. No monetary gain is made from this endeavor.

AN: Thanks go out to Staz, my wonderful beta reader, fact finding helper and enthusiasm-provider!

AN: This story was originally written for the 'What If' ficathon – therefore, warmest thanks go out to Becky, who provided this great idea for the story:

"Retreat, Hell" – What if Mac had fallen off the Admiral's chair and hit her head instead of Harm? What would her visions of Harm have been?

The basic storyline of the episode stays essentially the same, with Harm being acting JAG in the Admiral's absence – except that it'll be Mac that hits her head. Nothing else of what actually happened in the episode matters much for this story. In fact, the story makes perfect sense whether you've ever seen the episode or not. But those of you who have seen it might recognize an occasional line of original dialog that I recycled to my advantage, LOL!

o o o o o o

Retreat, Mac!

How did the exact wording of that particular decision go again? For the life of her, she couldn't remember. She wracked her brain, but to no avail. Damn it, she really needed that information now! She supposed she could go look it up at the library downstairs, but the idea of leafing through countless legal volumes seemed daunting.

In a flash of memory, she suddenly remembered where she had read about that decision the first time she came across it. Wasn't that book in the Admiral's office now? Elated, she hopped off her chair and made her way to his office. The Admiral was on leave, and Harm had momentarily taken over the post and the office space. Tiner wasn't at his desk, so she knocked but received no answer. Carefully, she opened the door and peeked inside. It was empty. Damn. She really could have used Harm's help; the shelf that the book was on was really high up. Oh well, she was a Marine, she could manage herself.

Purposefully, she strode into the Admiral's office and grabbed his chair, wheeling it over to the bookcase where her volume was on. She climbed carefully onto the chair, first on her knees, the lifted up on her feet, trying to hold herself steady by grabbing onto the backrest. When she had found her balance, she let go of the backrest and straightened up to reach the book. So far, so good – it wasn't too wobbly. She could do this. She had to go up on her tip-toes to grasp the back of the book, but she managed to get a hold of it with her fingertips, and pulled it down.

More secure now, she bent back down to hold onto the backrest, and then lowered one foot off the chair towards the ground. She had to hike up her uniform skirt high in order to do so and hoped that nobody would come in at this moment. When one foot was back on the ground, she exhaled, relieved that she'd made it.

Her last thought before she went airborne was, she really shouldn't be climbing in heels. Then the chair shot off on its wheels, with her other foot still on it. A ripping pain shot through her upper thighs when they were forcefully moved in opposite directions, and she lost her footing immediately. For a moment, no parts of her were touching the ground, until gravity unrelentingly took a hold of her and she slammed onto the unforgiving floor with her six, her back, and her head.

When she came to, she had to force a few calming breaths out of her lungs to signal to her brain that she was okay. Her head hummed loudly, and she saw tiny blinking stars all around her. She wiggled toes and fingers, then legs and arms, until she was satisfied to find that nothing was broken. Suddenly, there was a rush of air next to her ear, and a large body dropping down beside her.

"Mac, Sweetheart?" Harm's voice penetrated the fog. Sweetheart? "Oh baby, are you alright?" And now he called her baby? Maybe she wasn't alright after all. She tried to lift up her head and upper body, but his hands were on her shoulders, forcing her to remain lying down.

"Stay down, baby, we're going to call a doctor." She didn't want to see a doctor, didn't need it. She was okay, well mostly anyway.

"I'm okay," she forced her voice to work. He looked at her with concern in his beautiful eyes. She wanted to melt in them and never come back out. When she struggled again, he helped her up into a sitting position, and she relaxed her back against the book case.

"Just need a minute to get my bearings, Harm."

"Take all the time you need," he answered, then settled down next to her, equally leaning his back against the bookcase. They sat there for long minutes in undisturbed silence broken only by the sounds of their tandem breathing. When she felt she was ready, he helped her up, and she retreated towards her office. Harm's still slightly concerned gaze rested on her until the door was closed and he could no longer see.

o o o o o o

"Ma'am," Tiner stuck his head through Mac's office door an hour and 46 minutes later, "Commander Rabb would like to see you."

"Thanks, Tiner. Tell him I'll be right there."

Two minutes later, she made her way toward the Admiral's office and knocked. At Harm's call of 'Enter', she opened the door, but the view presented to her immobilized her immediately. Instead of being seated in the chair, Harm stood in front of the window, gazing outside. When he became aware of her, he turned around, almost in slow motion, with a serene smile on his handsome face. Her tummy took an immediate nose-dive at his appearance. Instead of his uniform, he was dressed in a tux, and held a single, yellow, long-stemmed rose in his hand. How did he know that yellow was her favorite color when it came to roses? And oh, did he look good in a tux. She felt all her extremities starting to tingle.

He took a few steps away from the window and towards her. "It's time I take my wife for our first anniversary dinner," he announced in a voice lazed with love and erotic undertones. Then he held out his hand to her, and her feet, with a mind of their own, made their way over to him in a heartbeat. "Are you ready, Princess?" And all she could do was smile.

"Mac, are you ready?" His voice, more insistent now, penetrated her happy bubble, and she blinked against the sudden cobwebs in her brain. When she opened her eyes again, she found that she was still standing in the doorway, and Harm was sitting behind the desk. Wearing his uniform.

"What?" She croaked.

"I asked whether you are ready? For the court-martial tomorrow morning? Where were you just now?"

In her dreams, that's where she had been. The ones that would never come true. She sighed and straightened her spine.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fully prepared for it."

"Okay. Oh, and I have another small case for you. Just a DUI charge, of a Petty Officer…," he consulted his notes, "Martin. I'll bring the file by your office later?" He was quite concerned now; she seemed rather out of it. "Is your head okay?"

"Sure, it's fine." She rubbed the back of her head with her thumb, smiling sheepishly. "You know, us Marines, pretty hard-headed…"

"Alright, if you're sure."

"Yeah, I'm okay. Find me later?" He nodded, and she did a proper turn-about and swiftly left the office. She was thankful for the years of protocol so deeply engrained in her, making her exit appear less like the flight that it actually was.

TBC