Disclaimer: I don't own the show, characters, etc.

The Outing

She watched him looming above her, his shoulders, arms and head jutting over the cliff's edge. His hand was tightly gripping hers though the rain was falling so hard that she feared their grip would slip. The water was sluicing through the sky, soaking his clothes and hair, flowing in rivulets over his nose, his cheeks, his chin and dripping from his eyelashes. She could feel the rain on her skin, through her clothes. It was falling in large, heavy drops that thundered on the ground and leaves and them. It was all she could hear and he was all she could see. They could have been in their own world, the two of them. Sheltered by the rain that was roughly caressing their faces and bodies in the same way. If only she had her feet on some solid ground and not dangling over the 15 feet of air that separated her from the violent river below.

She kept her unwavering gaze on him, silently wondering how their afternoon of idleness and fun had suddenly taken such a serious turn. Actually, she knew exactly how: she had slipped on a slick tree root. One thought was running in an endless, desperate, repetitive loop in her head, "Don't let go of me..."

He suddenly grinned at her, "Not on your life, Mackenzie" but she could see the serious, sincere gleam in his eye, "or mine." So she had not only been thinking that endless, desperate, repetitive loop but, apparently, also saying it out loud.

She should never have agreed to his suggestion this morning. She had sworn to herself after that wonderful experience with his stearman and the poachers that she would not ever again let herself be talked into doing anything that involved planes, travel, fuel, or anything poached - including eggs - if he was the one asking. That had, of course, been a stupid promise to make. First, they worked together in the military, him as a naval pilot and she as a marine. Second, she had to watch his six given his absolute incompetence when it came to watching it himself. Third, she liked spending time with him. Well, to be honest, she liked him. And therein lay the problem. But, in her defence, she had been dehydrated, tired, had lost a lot of blood and was totally drugged up on pain killers when she had taken that oath. And someone's hand was in her thigh removing a bullet. Damn Harm.

So he had asked her this morning if she wanted to go for a hike in some park he had discovered. "Ravines and cliffs, flowing streams and rushing rivers..." She remembered looking at him askance and wondering if his head was screwed on right.

"It's supposed to rain today, Harm."

"What, are you afraid of getting wet?"

Damn him.

"Marines are not afraid of a little precipitation. But the forecast is calling for torrential rains. You're the squid, maybe you can breath underwater but-"

"There'd be a lot of mud involved, Jarhead," he had tried to look like he was making a casual suggestion, that he wouldn't be bothered by her answer either way, but she could see in his eyes that this, for some reason, meant a lot to him. "C'mon, Mac. It'll be fun."

Ha! Famous last words. He had said the same thing after suggesting a short ride on his stearman and she had ended up getting shot and almost much worse. She was such an idiot for agreeing then. She was the biggest idiot on the planet for falling for the same line twice.

"Alright, Harm. But if I get pneumonia-"

"Won't happen, Mac." He had grinned. "I guarantee it." He had winked.

Damn him.

"I'm going to pull you up, now, Mac!" Her focus was pulled back to her current target for eternal damnation. He yelled this to her but she hardly heard him over the pounding of the rain. "Hold on tight!" As if she had a choice in the matter. No thanks, Harm, I think I'll loosen my grip...I feel like a 15 foot dive and a quick swim. Damn him.

She felt him heave her up and she used the slick, rocky surface of the cliff to get some leverage and push herself up. His one hand stayed firmly in hers and the other came around her waist. Her foot hooked into a root jutting out of the surface of the cliff and she used it as a step. She was pushing and he was pulling hard enough to practically vault her over the edge. Their combined efforts served to launch her over the edge, her full weight falling on him and sending him onto his back, right into a large, wet, puddle of mud. She lay there, on top of him, his hands around her waist, her hands on his shoulders, her face buried in the crook of his neck, trying to catch her breath.

It felt so good to have something solid beneath her. If that something solid happened to be Harm, all the better, she wouldn't complain.

"Well," she heard him whisper breathlessly against her ear, "you didn't catch pneumonia."

"Yet." She would get up in a minute. But first she would just enjoy the solid mass that lay under her and sheer relief that surrounded her.

"And there is a lot of mud."

She smiled at that. "On you."

"You too, sweetheart."

She enjoyed the sound of the rain falling heavily and the gentle rise and fall of his chest. She counted a full three minutes before he spoke.

"Are you alright?" he asked this obviously worried that she was not moving off of him. He gently ran his hands up and down her back.

"Hmm," she nodded into his neck. "Just - I need a second to calm down."

"For once you admit it," he chuckled, his hands now resting on her hips.

"I'm still shaking from the adrenaline." She pushed herself off of his chest and sat down on a rock in front of him. He eyed her curiously.

"I am not sitting in a puddle of mud, Harm," she said this - her voice slightly raised because the rain was still pounding away - in a tone indicating he was an idiot to think otherwise. She put her hands out towards him, "See. Still shaking."

Truthfully, she couldn't tell if her hands were shaking because of the heavy drops of rain that were splashing off of her skin, obscuring her view. But she would not admit that to him.

"Aw, my big bad marine has real feelings? I thought they trained you to spit in the face of-"

"Don't tempt me to spit, Harmon Rabb, I have really good aim."

"I would outrun you and your expectorate," his eyes were dancing with mirth. She knew how much she enjoyed teasing her, but that was truly gross.

"Yuck. Besides, you can't run away all your life," and how she loved teasing him back.

He got up and sat down facing her on the same rock. He took her muddy hand in his muddy one and wiped his other hand on his pants before pushing the wet strands of hair away from her face. She studied him through the rain which really was showing no sign of letting up.

"I wouldn't want to run from you, Mac, ever," his eyes were as soft and sincere as his voice - which she had to strain to hear over the rain. "Are you sure you're alright?"

She nodded, "thanks."

He leaned in to kiss her and she tasted rain and comfort and love. Oh, yes. She really liked him. And with some solid ground beneath her feet and his lips firmly on hers, that didn't seem to be such a problem. She might even go so far as to say it was worth a hike in torrential rains and a game of cat and mouse with armed poachers.

He pulled away from her, his hand still cupping her face, his other hand holding hers. "Thanks for agreeing to come."

She watched him carefully before deciding to let curiosity get the better of her and ask the question that had been nagging at her since the morning. "Why was this so important for you?"

He looked at her, rather sheepishly she thought, before taking her one hand in both of his. "I wanted us to spend more time together. Outside work. I thought that doing something like this would be so different that, well," he shrugged and looked more than a little flustered, "it would be different."

Ah. So that's what was bugging him. It was true that of late their schedules had been so busy that they hadn't really had time to do much of anything except work from home, chat over dinner and then go to bed. He apparently thought they had fallen into a rut. She, however, really liked going to bed with him. In addition to chatting over dinner, of course.

"Harm, we've both been busy at work and we both know the extra workload is only temporary. Another week, at the most." She looked at the puddle of mud next to them before meeting his eyes again and smiling, "and you have the absolute oddest ideas for what makes a good date! Just book us into a bed and breakfast next time. Or maybe bowling. Or playing bingo, even. In fact, anything indoors is fine. As long as it's far from mountains and forests and cliffs. And rivers. We don't have a good track record with those."

He gave her his trademark full-blown grin, "What kind of guy takes his marine girlfriend to a quiet bread and breakfast? That wouldn't be me showing you a good time, now would it?"

She laughed. "Harm, you in no clothes is showing me a good time."

He quickly got up and offered her a hand. "Let's go, Mac."

"Where?" She hoped it involved somewhere warm and dry and very flat. She took his hand and they started walking back to his car.

"Closest B&B we can find. I'm going to show you a great time. In fact, I'll towel you dry myself," he glanced at her, a teasing grin on his face, "how's that for a date?"

She smiled at him, "Bingo."

The End