Disguised in Plane Sight

AN: JAG and its characters do not belong to me; I'm just borrowing them for my, and hopefully other people's entertainment.

AN: I see this somewhere in mid- to late season 7, but there are no references to anything, so you can see this anywhere you want! ;-) Fluffy humor, or humorous fluff, that's all this is. Written for the HBX February Challenge; the lines used in this story are from the episode "Ghost Ship".

The idea came about when it was still carnival season here in Germany, so you know where the thought of costumes originated. You can see this whichever way you like – could be Halloween, Carnival, or just a plain old costume party… in any case, this is where I'm sending them. Please enjoy!

Thank you, Theresa and Staz, for reading and helping and your enthusiasm! And credit where well-deserved credit is due – to Theresa, for providing the perfect title to this story!

o o o o o o

Disguised in Plane Sight

It took me hours to figure out what to wear tonight. I don't really like run-of-the-mill costumes; if I let myself get talked into wearing a costume, I'd rather be creative myself. Naturally, looking good instead of really goofy is a major requirement in my choice of dress. I wracked my brain, flipped through magazines, but it was when I raided my closet that inspiration finally struck. I knew it would pay off to not throw out everything. When I pulled out this light blue dress courtesy of the 80ies, I suddenly had my idea what to be. And I think I accomplished inventive and cute, if I do say so myself. Of major importance tonight since the flyboy is going to pick me up. Although I'd never tell him that, of course. The key is to make it all look natural and accidental. Ah, and here he is, knocking on my door. I swing it open and can't help the huge grin that's spreading across my face.

"Ok Harm, what is that?" He's dressed in some sort of grey coveralls. He manages to simultaneously look snubbed at my ignorance while flapping his arms up and down like a stranded bird, which reveals large pieces of grey fabric that are sown onto his pant legs on one side and onto his sleeves on the other. This of course makes me laugh even more.

"I'm a Tomcat!" He sounds a little sulky that I didn't get his costume, and holds his arms out straight to the side so I can admire his 'wings'. I should've known, really; this is Harm, after all. But of course I need to tease him a little anyway.

"Really? Hmm… looks like Batman to me!" I needle him while I tug at one of his 'wings' to pull him inside.

"Batman? Mac, Batman's suit was black! And he had his symbol – I have a number," he announces, proudly pointing at the print on his chest. While he was ranting away, he followed me inside, but now he seems to be switching tracks on me because he suddenly turns and comes to stand directly in front of me… disturbingly close, in fact.

"Besides…" he looks me up and down in what can only be classified as a knee-buckling mixture between appraising and very suggestive, "…if I were Batman, you'd have to be Robin, and you don't look like any Robin I've ever seen." He wiggles his eyebrows at me. "What are you trying to be, anyway?"

I personally thought that was pretty darn obvious. My light blue dress is simple and very straight cut, stops above the knees, and scoops just low enough in the front to be enticing without being immodest. Straight down the front, from top to bottom, I have sown a wide strip of white satiny fabric. The same is on the back. I tied another such white strip around my waist and finished it off with a big bow that's sitting on my belly. I twirl around once, then strike a little pose at him.

"O come on, Harm, I'm a Tiffany's box! Figures that you didn't recognize that!"

He leans even closer, his hand playfully tugging at the other big white bow that is perched on top of my head. "Hmm, a costume that needs to be unwrapped later… Kinky!"

Oh my goodness, just the way he says the word 'unwrapped' makes me tingly all over, his voice throaty, suggestive, sexy, his amazing body so close to mine… I have to get a grip before my knees buckle completely…

"Yellow light, Commander." I tried to pull off sounding completely unfazed, but instead it sounded totally flustered. Damn it. I extract myself almost forcefully from his seemingly magnetic closeness, and quickly head towards the bedroom to get my wrap and purse.

"Hmm, Colonel…" he calls after me, his voice reverberating through my living room, bouncing off the walls and invading my body, "…not a Red one? Intriguing…" he trails off. Again with the throaty, suggestive, sexy! What is with him tonight?

"Besides," he continues, "I thought we dropped those traffic signals a long time ago?"

"Absolutely," I beam at him, the short detour to my bedroom having given me the chance to pull myself together… at least a little. I stop in front of him again, and slowly, lasciviously draw my fingers over the print on his chest, painstakingly tracing every number and letter. Through my palm I can feel his heartbeat speeding up, his breathing quickening, and then I finally look up to him. There's nothing innocent and everything dangerous in his eyes, and I'm satisfied I got him just as flustered as I was before. Good, turn-about is fair play!

"Are you ready?" I whisper. He gulps.

"Good," I announce, "because we have to leave now! Come on, Batboy!" I pull at one of his 'wings' again and march ahead out of my apartment. One would think that being a Tomcat, he could have at least landed here on time!

"Maaaaac, it's a Tomcat!"

o o o o o o

The costume party is already in full swing when we arrive, and the first people we bump into are Harriet and Bud. Harm and I grin knowingly at each other when we see them approaching, as it seems quite obvious who had the costume ideas in the Roberts household. I really don't know squat about Star Wars, but seeing Harriet in a long flowing dress with two big, cinnamon-role shaped hair pieces over her ears, even I know that this is the famous Princess Leia. And pretty much all I know about her is that supposedly, men really dig that look, which is why I'm sure that this must have been Bud's idea. He, however…

"Harm," I whisper before they are too close, "who's he?"

"Han Solo," Harm whispers back, sounding quite incredulous that I didn't know this vital piece of information. Quite frankly, he looks just like a regular cowboy to me.

We greet each other enthusiastically when they arrive, and then Harm and Bud take off to get us some drinks.

"Tiffany's? Very cute, Colonel," Harriet remarks, "and quite inventive. I can never come up with anything interesting, so I just go along with whatever idea Bud has and live with the fact that it is always 'Star-something'… Trek, Wars, whatever."

"Thanks Harriet, but please, it's Mac!" We watch the two men for a while who are leaning at the bar, waiting for their turn, deeply engrossed in conversation.

"So what's Harm's costume?" She wonders, and I have to chuckle, glad that I wasn't the only one who didn't get it.

"He's a Tomcat."

"Oh. Hmm, should have figured that out," she muses, "it's Harm, after all." We share a knowing smile. Then Harm and Bud are back and hand us our drinks. We chat for a while, until Bud asks Harriet to dance, while Harm and I continue our rounds to greet everybody.

Later, we stand leaning against the bar, Harm chatting with the bartender while getting our next round of drinks, when something pink catches my eye. I turn, and almost keel over laughing. I pull at Harm's wing until he turns, and we both watch a rather annoyed looking Gunny strutting across the room in a huge fluffy pink bunny costume!

"Huh," Harm muses close to my ear, the vibration of his voice making me shiver, "I guess I got it all wrong when I told you all these years ago why a female Marine is like the Energizer Bunny…"

I have to laugh so hard my tummy hurts. "Actually, Harm…" I wheeze out, "you never told me the answer…" But when I see him wanting to reply, with this wicked gleam in his eyes, I hold my hands up in mock defeat. "And I don't want to know!"

"Whatever made him wear this?"

"All I know," I tell him, "is that he and Tiner had some sort of bet going. So I guess he lost." I can't quite keep my eyes off that big pink stuffy bunny butt waddling across the room, so I never notice…

"I'd venture to say he's the one who won," Harm suddenly says, and he sounds so stunned that I immediately look at him, then follow the direction of his eyes. I almost collapse in laughter at the sight that greets me. I choke on my ginger ale and Harm soothingly rubs my back until I can breathe somewhat regularly again, through all the laughter, of course.

Across the room comes Tiner, also in pink, with bunny ears perched on his head. He, however, is wearing high heels, black fishnet stockings; long silky gloves adorn his hands and arms, and a pink silky leotard, high cut on the legs, complete with fluffy little tail attached to his six. A male Playboy bunny! It takes the party a while to calm down again after that.

The evening just passes by in a blur. We talk, we dance together. Harm dances with others, I dance with others. It's really been a wonderful party, but now it's getting late, the music is turning slower, and the place is slowly emptying out. Our eyes find each other from across the room, and we move simultaneously to come together in the middle of the dance floor for one last, slow dance.

His arms wrap around me, one across my shoulders, the other across my waist. I'm enveloped by his embrace, by him, his large 'wings' completely surrounding me, hiding my body from everybody's view. The music is slow and sultry; casting a spell over me I can't escape. Safe in the knowledge that nobody can see what I'm doing, I place both my hands on his chest, trailing my fingers up and down his strong muscles, feeling his chest heave with every breath he takes. My head comes to rest in the crook of his neck, and I deeply inhale his innate musky smell. I'm aching for him.

I don't even notice when the music stops.

"Let's get out of here," Harm whispers. And all I can do is follow.

o o o o o o

The elevator gate is barely closed behind us when we practically pounce on each other. His lips on mine, his tongue invading my mouth, passionate, seductive. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck, my fingers teasing through his hair, while I return his embrace with all that I am. We stumble around until my back is firmly pressed against the wall, his body holding me there. All this tension, this steamroller of sexual energy that has built up between us all evening is claiming us forcefully, with no escape. Not that we'd want one anyway. I feel his hands wandering down my back, and just as he reaches my six I lift up and wrap my legs around his waist. He groans when our lower bodies come in even firmer contact, rubbing, teasing, taking us with them on their quest to fulfilment.

"We have… to tell… them…" he forces out between kisses, his voice breathless and laden with desire, "We can't… go on… like this…" His lips are finding a path down my neck, his teeth nibbling, his tongue teasing.

I groan when his tongue hits a particularly sensitive spot. I can barely think straight, but I know he's right. We have to tell our friends that we are dating, have in fact been dating for quite some time.

"I know…" I pant, before his lips once again claim mine with such vigor that talking is the last thing on my mind. Our tongues meet and dance in this ancient ritual that we've since perfected in our way, and still it feels familiar, yet different every time. I barely register that the elevator arrived, but instead of letting me down, Harm carries me to his apartment door, holding me tight at my bottom and waist. I bury my face in his neck and do some nibbling on my own until we arrive at his door and he almost drops me when he's trying to unlock the door with one hand while he's holding me with the other. Not to mention these wads of grey fabric we are wrapped up in; thank goodness he made his 'wings' so big! I giggle and tighten my limbs around him until we are inside.

First we didn't tell anybody that we are dating for everybody's sake. For us, until we figured out how to deal with each other at the office now. And for the others not to get dragged into this thing between us, this force of nature that we have become ever since we gave into this passion that had always been simmering between us. Ultimately, the secrecy helped us to learn to tone things down appropriately at work, but then it spiralled off and there never seemed to be a right time to tell. But outings like tonight, parties with dancing and continuous closeness almost kill us now; having to suppress the urge to touch or softly kiss. Although…

"You have to admit though…" I murmur while I slowly let myself slide down his body until I'm back on my feet. "That… the rewards…" I continue, interspersing my words with kisses, "…are always… very… satisfying." He chuckles and I know he agrees with me on that. Nevertheless, he's right, we're going to have to tell them all; it's time. Right now though, I have other things on my mind; it would be a shame to let all this passion go to waste, now would it. I give him my most seductive smile and tug at his hand to pull him towards his bed.

"Come on, you've got a present to unwrap," I wink at him and point at the bow on my belly.

Suddenly, instead of following my invitation, he stops and remains planted in the middle of his living room. "On second thought, let's not," he says, and I turn and stare at him. This is confusing me to no end. He looks so serious that I can't stop the sense of dread from cursing through my body in icy rivulets. But then a soft smile steals across his face, putting me back at ease right away. Whatever he has to tell me, it can't be all that bad.

"Not yet, anyway…" He winks at me, and then I can only watch in frozen astonishment as he, almost in slow motion, drops down… on one knee! Oh…my…God…

The words, "I think you should unwrap something too," aren't quite what I expected to come out of his mouth next and I just keep staring at him. I must be quite a sight to behold, with my mouth gaping open. I watch as his hand reaches into one of his sort of cargo pockets attached to his pant leg, and slowly produces… a small, square, light blue box… with a white satiny ribbon… and a perfect bow on top. Oh… my… GOD!!

"See, I did get your costume right away," he announces, sounding amused, and I'm still gaping at him. I try shaking myself out of my daze. Has he…?

"Have you carried this around with you all evening?"

"I've carried this around with me for weeks, Mac. I wanted to be prepared when the perfect moment arose. Well, your costume was already quite a hint, but now that we're agreeing to tell people… I mean, we might as well have something to tell them, right?" He's smiling at me, but I can detect a hint of something else in his eyes… Insecurity, maybe?

"So, what do you say?"

"You haven't asked me anything yet, Sailor." I saucily remind him. I'm finally getting a grip on myself. I'm so giddy, I feel like jumping up and down. This is really, truly happening!

"I won't ever feel about anyone else the way that I feel about you. Sarah, will you marry me?" He looks up at me with his incredible, ever-changing, expressive eyes, and in them I can read everything I ever wanted to know. There's never even been a question.

"YES!" I practically shout, and then I launch myself in his arms. The force of my jump causes him to tip over backwards, and we both land on the floor, with me lying on top of him. I start trailing kisses all over his face. "Oh God, yes." I kiss his brow, the tip of his nose. "Harm, of course I'll marry you." More kisses, on his cheeks, his jaw. "It's all I ever wanted, and more."

Then I kiss his mouth, slowly tracing his lips until he opens up to me and we come together in an embrace so soft and sweet and perfect that tears start running down my face. When we break apart he kisses them away, and then we help each other up of the floor. I yelp when I'm suddenly airborne and find myself in his arms, with him carrying me up to the bed. Still holding me, he climbs onto the bed, sits up against the headboard, and settles me between his legs so that my back is leaning against his chest.

Then he hands me the little blue box and I realize that I still haven't seen my ring. Slowly I pull open the white ribbon and lift the lid. It is so spectacularly beautiful, so perfect, that all I can do is stare at it, afraid it might vanish if I so much as try to touch it. I'm about to ask him to place it on my finger – somehow it just seems so important to me that he slides it on – but there's no need, as he senses my desires before I even utter them. He takes it out of the box and, almost reverently, slips it onto my finger. Then we both sit there, simply staring at our entwined hands and the beauty of this symbol of our union.

"I love you, Harm." I whisper, still looking at our hands.

"And I love you, Sarah." He grasps me at my waist and turns me around so that I'm straddling his hips. And just like that, the passion is back. I stare at him hungrily, my hands itching to touch him. I need to see my now adorned hand touching his body, trailing down his chest, over his hips, and thighs, and… other places…, with the ring sparkling and glittering in the soft warm light of his bedroom, symbolizing that he will be mine and I will be his, for the rest of our lives. I begin unzipping his coveralls, and the world around us sinks into oblivion as he pulls on my bow and starts some unwrapping of his own.

THE END