Title: What He Wants
Author: David
Rating: T
Summary: An alternate ending to Shifting Sands.
Category: Angst/Romance H/M
Completed: May 20, 2005
Mac rushed away from Webb's hospital room; a cold sense of dread was slowly spreading through her body. Everything was happening too fast, and she was being left behind.
She had come to the hospital to see Webb; hoping to delve a little deeper into their budding relationship, maybe with luck she would get some ideas on how to go forward. She still didn't know exactly what Webb was after from her. She knew that he liked her–his kiss the first time she and Harm had visited him had told her that much–and she had feelings for him, but she had no idea how far those feelings went, or what to do about them. So, she had come to find out.
And stepped right into a nightmare of her own design.
Harm was joining the CIA; the same CIA that put Webb into the hospital with possible permanent nerve damage; the same CIA that had almost cost all three of them their lives.
And it was all her fault.
Not realizing how she got there, Mac stumbled into the parking garage of the hospital and made her way towards her car. Locking herself inside, she grabbed the steering wheel; squeezing it tightly until her knuckles turned white.
She had been trying to convince herself ever since she'd returned to DC that the whole fiasco in Paraguay wasn't her fault, that it was nothing more than bad luck and Harm's over-developed sense of honour that made him resign his commission to come after her. That it had nothing to do with how he felt about her.
Considering that the conversation that they had there had simply retread the same path as every other time they'd tried to talk about 'us', she had been convinced that nothing about their relationship had changed. If it had, Harm would have said something, but he just retreated into his shell like he always did.
Starting the car, Mac backed out of her space and exited the garage. She didn't know where she was going; she just needed time alone to think.
She had been so certain that her and Harm's relationship had been trapped in a permanent holding patten that she had finally made a decision. She had told him that it would never work, that there could never be an 'us' because both of them wanted to be on top. She didn't know exactly what that meant, but it freed her from his grasp. She was unwilling to pine after him anymore if he wasn't going to make any effort in return. It allowed her to see how far her feelings for Webb went; without the specter of her feelings for Harm hanging over her head.
So, why did the thought of him joining the CIA have her heart trapped in a vice?
That was a question Mac could not answer; not without opening herself up to emotions she had spent so much time trying to suppress. Harmon Rabb was a cancer on her soul, and the harder she tried to fight it, the more insidious it became. Every time she thought she had her feelings for him beat, something would happen that would show her that those feelings were stronger than ever.
Her thoughts drifted back to the time his plane had gone down in the Atlantic. She had been ready to marry Mic Brumby, ready to spend her life with him. She had been convinced that Harm no longer held any sway over her heart; and then he had gone missing, and it was like her whole world shattered in an instant. Everything that she had believed as true had been laid bare as the lies that they were.
Mac slammed on the brakes, pulling over to the curb. Her heart was pounding like a jack-hammer, and she gasped for breath as if she had just finished running a marathon.
She had loved him then, and she still loved him now. It was the only answer that could satisfy her questions.
But what could she do about it?
She had told him 'never' and, as always, he had taken her at her word. It was his way.
Harm had, over the years, spent more time fighting with her than anyone she'd ever known. They fought about everything, including their relationship, or lack thereof, but every time she told him no, told him to back off, he did. When Harm got it into his head that whatever she was doing was what she wanted, he stopped fighting; no matter how much he hated it. He'd done it with Dalton, he'd done it with Mic–realization dawned like a lightning bolt from heaven–and when it appeared that she'd wanted a relationship with Webb, he'd done it again; he'd backed away, stopped fighting her, and retreated in his shell.
Oh, God. Mac's breath caught in her throat. She finally understood.
He loves me–that's why he went to Paraguay. Not duty or honour, but love. And then he saw me kiss Webb, and tell him that I liked being his wife, and Harm thought I had made my choice–just like Dalton, just like Mic–so he backed away. What he wanted took a backseat to what I wanted, just like it always does.
A tear rolled down her cheek as she slumped into the plush leather upholstery. Harm had given up; not because he didn't want her, but because he was sure she didn't want him. It was all so clear now.
Mac understood why he had acted the way he did after they had escaped from Sadik. Why he would not fight to have her. Why her quickly spoken 'never' had utterly destroyed him. And now she was going to lose him to the same beast that had brought them both to this point. The CIA had cost Harm more than Mac could easily comprehend, and now that she was beginning to understand just how much he had given up for her, she was going to lose him to that self-same monster.
Throwing the Corvette into first gear, she pealed away from the curb, heading for Union Station. Harm wouldn't fight for her because he refused to put his needs ahead of hers. That meant that it was her move now. If Harm couldn't fight for her, then it was time that she fought for him. It was time that someone showed him that what he wanted wasn't irrelevant, and she was the only person who could do it.
Less than twenty minutes later she eased her car to a stop behind Harm's Lexus. For several minutes Mac just sat there, staring up at his loft. The lights were on inside, and several times she saw a fleeting shadow dance across the glass in the windows.
She tried to shrug off her nervous energy. She knew he was home, but would he even let her in? Give her a chance to make things right? To say their friendship was a rope frayed nearly to breaking would have been understating the truth.
Mac got out of her car and squared her shoulders. If she was going to prove to him that she was willing to fight for him, it meant that she would have to finesse, side-step or simply batter down any and all walls he tried to put up between them. Harm had to know that what he wanted was important to her, and nothing he would do was going to stop her.
As she approached his door she was surrounded by soft, bluesy music that drifted out into the hall from inside his apartment. It was a sad, lonely sound that spoke more about his own inner pain than words ever could.
She knocked on the door, then waited. An indeterminate amount of time passed, and Mac raised her arm to knock again, when the door swung open.
The empty shell of a man who's lost everything he cares about greeted her. His eyes were vacant, and the playful smirk he usually wore was gone. His hair was slightly mussed, and half his shirt-tail was untucked from his jeans.
Saying nothing, he turned from the door and walked away; leaving Mac standing in the threshold with her arm half-raised to knock again. Dropping it quickly, she went inside, closing the door behind her.
Several half-filled moving boxes were scattered around his loft; along with a few more that hadn't been put together yet on the end of the coffee table, along with several rolls of tan coloured packing tape.
She knew what this meant, and it made her blood run cold. Even when he had gone back to flying all those years ago, he had never boxed up his home; he always knew he would eventually return. This time, he wasn't so sure.
"What do you want, Mac? I have a lot to pack up before the movers get here in the morning."
His voice brought her out of her daydream, and she turned to look at him. "You're moving?" she asked, trying to hide the shocked look on her face.
He shrugged. "I got a job flying for the CIA, Mac." He turned to look out the window. "From the sounds of things, I won't be around much, so I figured I'd sublet this place until I can decide if I'm going to keep it or not."
Mac couldn't believe what she was hearing. He was about to abandon his whole life, and he sounded like he didn't even care. This was more serious than she'd thought.
He turned back to her, his eyes downcast. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it, but I just found out today."
"I already knew, Harm. That's why I'm here," she replied quietly.
His eyes looked up questioningly. "How did you find out? I've only told one other person..." Realization dawned on him. "Webb." It wasn't a question. "How long was it after I left his hospital room before he called to tell you the good news?" He snorted derisively. "Don't worry, Mac. I'll be out of your hair and out of your life before you know it." His eyes fell again.
Her heart bleeding from another fresh wound, she took a step towards him. "What makes you think I want that, Harm?" He looked up and started to speak, but she rode right over him, moving even closer. "What makes you think I want to out of my life?"
He stepped back as she approached until he was pinned against the island in the kitchen. Mac tried to tilt her head to look him in the eyes, but he looked away. "You made it pretty obvious that you didn't want me..." he stumbled over the words before going on, "around anymore, Mac..." His voice trailed off into nothing, and he sat down heavily on one of the bar stools.
Wailing in agony on the inside for what she'd done, Mac reached out to lay her hand on his chest; he flinched at her touch and tried to pull away, but she just stepped closer and maintained the contact. "I never, EVER wanted you to stop being a part of my life, Harm," she whispered, "and I am SO sorry that I gave you the impression that I did."
He looked at her then, more confused than ever. "But what about 'never', Mac? I know what 'never' means," his voice rose in frustration. "It means I can never have what..." His mouth snapped shut and his eyes dropped again.
So, here they were again. Mac knew what he wanted to say, but he had to say it, had to tell her what he wanted, before she could give it to him.
"Can never have what, Harm?" she prompted.
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Mac."
She took his face in her hands, tilting it up until their gazes locked. "That's where you are wrong," she breathed. "What you want does matter. It matters to me. Tell me what you want, Harm."
He looked so confused, so lost. She knew what he wanted, but he was at war with himself over whether he had the right to actually put voice to his desires. She smiled a small smile for him. "Please, I want to know, I NEED to know?"
A heavy breath rattled from him and he went slack in her hands. Mac had to pull him close to prevent him from toppling off the stool. His head wound up in the crook of her neck, his arms dangled limply at his sides. She put her arms around his back, holding him gently to her. "Please?" she whispered again.
He started to tremble in her arms, and then shake, and then he took a shuddering breath, trying desperately to maintain control. "All I want is you," he choked out he words. "All I've ever wanted was you." And then he let go, and the strongest man she knew was reduced to a shuddering mass of gut wrenching tears as his own emotions finally overwhelmed him.
Mac stroked his back as he shook in her arms. Her own tears mirroring his as they ran hot down her face. She hugged him as tightly as she could. "All you ever had to do was ask," she whispered against his neck. "It never required anything more."
"It's too bad that I waited too long," he mumbled against her neck. "I always wait too long."
Now it was her turn to be confused. "What are you talking about?"
"I can never admit to myself that I need you until I've already lost you," he tried to pull away from her, but she held him tight.
"Harm, you'll never lose me. I told you that once, remember? You'll always be the most important person there is in my life."
He shook his head as his arms wrapped themselves around her back. "No," he sniffled, he voice strengthening. "It's too late for me. You're with Webb. I won't get in the way of that. I can't; you mean too much to me."
So he was going to try to do it again, even after voicing what he wanted, even after she'd told him that all needed to do was ask, he still wasn't going to listen. She wasn't going to let him give up this time. She pulled away from him, locking gazes with him again. "It's true, Harm," she said. "I have been working on having a relationship with Webb."
He tried to look away again. "Please, Mac," he begged. "I don't want to know about it. Watching you and Brumby nearly killed me, I can't go through that again. Just let me go away, and then you can be happy with Clay, but I never want to know anything more."
She leaned around until she was looking into his eyes again. "No, I won't let you leave."
"Why?" he whispered.
She pushed him back against the island so he couldn't look away. "The only reason I was trying to have a relationship with Webb was because I knew that he wanted one with me..." She paused taking a breath. "And I was willing to try it because I thought the one person that I wanted to be with didn't want to be with me, because he would never tell me what he wanted."
Harm's eyes filled with something she could only describe as hope. He swallowed slowly, an unasked question on his face. She nodded. "You're the only person that I ever wanted, Harm. I just never understood why you never told me, but I do now." She took him by the collar and pulled him too her, wrapping her arms around his neck. After a few seconds, his arms went around her back, pulling her even tighter against him. "If you still want me, Harm, there is nothing, Webb, or anyone else can say or do that will keep me away from you."
He said nothing, just held her tightly, smoothing small circles across her back. The minutes passed and they just stood there in each others arms.
"Harm?" Mac asked. "Are you alright?"
He nodded. "I've never felt better in my entire life."
Mac smiled. "Then you're willing to try this, to fight for what we both want?"
"With everything that I have, and all that I am."
She pulled away slightly to look at him. The Flyboy grin she knew and loved was back on his face. "Call whomever you need to call at the CIA; tell them you aren't taking the job," she stated flatly.
He frowned slightly, but his eyes were still holding her own. "What will I do, Mac? I can't go back to the Navy. I have to have a job." He cocked his head slyly. "Are you willing to support and unemployed, former JAG slash Navy Pilot, or do I have to go work at Wendy's?"
Mac laughed. "I can see you now: 'Do you want to Biggie Size that, Sir?'" She looked at him seriously. "Harm, I don't care what you do as long as we do it together. Deal?"
He pulled her close again, brushing his lips across hers. "Deal."