Disclaimer: I wouldn't have to do so much fixing if I had anything to do with owning JAG or any of the characters, and definitely wouldn't have to keep 2.5 jobs if I was making money off of this.
A/N: Set shortly after the whole Paraguay mess. Sorry if it's getting tiring to read all these Paraguay-fix stories, but being subjected to a double dose of seasons 9 and 10 every week is seriously affecting me (but not enough to make me not watch, of course!). Another addition to the 'without words' collection, though I may slightly stray from the guidelines this time, what can I say; I'm making the rules up as I go. Hope you enjoy!
The song "More Than Words", by Extreme inspired this story.
Extremely special thanks out to Colie. This story would have never been posted if not for you girl – thank you!!!
More Than Words
The sound of her heels clicking across the hall to her door echoed in Mac's ears. Just a few more steps and she'd be home. At this point, pure momentum was the only thing carrying her forward.
Fumbling for her keys, she somehow managed to open the door and stumble inside. She was dead tired.
A breath away from crashing down to the couch, something white caught her eye.
A few feet away from her door, an innocent looking white CD holder lay peacefully on her otherwise bare floor.
Exhaustion forgotten for the moment, Mac eyed the item suspiciously. Obviously someone had sent it flying under her door. But who? And why?
Only one way to find out, she shrugged to herself and picked it up. Inside the holder was a blank CD with nondescript block letters, simply stating "listen carefully".
Her brow creased. Cryptic. Was Webb trying to play games with her? She wouldn't put it past him; he'd been trying to get close to her ever since Paraguay. Then again, she wasn't sure he'd go to this much trouble for her. Ordering her stuff – sure, but actually doing something himself? That required thought, time and personal interest, none of which were Webb's strong suite.
No point in guessing games, she reasoned, she'd just do as asked.
Having prepared a soothingly warm cup of tea, and changed into comfortable clothes, Mac sat down and hit 'Play'.
The opening strains were vaguely familiar, and she soon recognized the song as "More Than Words", a beautiful song she only ever heard on long car drives that presented her with plenty of radio time.
The notes unlocked treasure boxes full of memories; green hills outside a moving car's window with music flowing between them, snippets of conversations held with this song in the background, the smells of coffee and a government issued car. A smile formed on her lips and her eyes closed as she let it wash over her and remembered hours spent in the enclosed automobile. She loved those long drives, especially when Harm insisted on being the designated driver and she could enjoy the view and control the radio.
The final notes of the song brought her out of her reverie, all memories were secured behind lock and key, and she realized that she hadn't really been listening all that carefully. She knew the general gist of the song, but that wasn't the idea, now was it?
She was about to move and set it back when it started again. Apparently it was the only song on the CD. She relaxed back into the cushions with her tea to pay attention to the lyrics.
By the time the first chorus played there were tears in her eyes and one person on her mind. It could only be him. No other person would go to all this trouble and still be so damn ambiguous about it! Usually if you go out on a limb you make sure the other side knows what you're trying to get across.
What was he attempting to say? That he loved her? That he knew she loved him?
They needed more than words, there was no doubt about that. Words only threw them farther apart; as they had in Paraguay. Words were not enough, as her numerous ignored messages on his answering machine proved. He was talking to her through the song; half making a confession, half asking for one.
The song replayed another five times before the whirlwind in her mind calmed any.
She stood and stopped the music. She didn't need it anymore - it was on repeat on the inside, bouncing off the walls of her skull.
No longer tired and now extremely uneasy, she ran through her options.
She could ignore it; it was cryptic enough to fake ignorance. But no, she couldn't. The 'what ifs' would drive her crazy. She was too much of an investigator to just let this lie.
She could call him and ask about it... More words. Kind of not the point.
That left her with only one option really, and that was to pay the man a personal visit. She didn't know what she'd say or what she'd do, but she knew she had to go, if only to stop this stupid kindergarten boycott thing they had going on.
-----
A brief rap on his door and she dug her hands deep into her jean pockets. She counted to ten in all the languages she knew, just to keep her mind from churning.
Four languages later the doubts came. Maybe it wasn't from him. He was probably on some CIA mission and she was standing outside his empty apartment for no reason. She was such an idiot.
Still, she knocked once again, just to satisfy her regretful side, jammed her hands back into her pockets and proceeded to count in more languages. German number 7 became her lucky number on that day.
The door opened and the rehearsed opening line died on her lips. Curbing the urge to pinch herself, Mac took in the vision of a disheveled Harm clad only in boxer shorts. Her brain worked hastily to burn every possible detail to memory. His bare feet were planted firmly on the floor; his roots in his home ground. Strong shoulders were just slightly comfortably hunched. The wall of his chest took up most of the logging time. All those were a contrast to her final focus – a rather sleepy face.
They stood and just stared at each other, neither sure what to say but for different reasons – a sleep muddled mind vs. shock and some R rated thoughts.
The song was still playing and replaying in her ears and one line penetrated the fog. "Hold me close, don't ever let me go!"
No conscious thought was involved in the few steps she took to get over the threshold, nor in the closing of the door behind her. She was solely focused on her goal – holding him.
Harm offered no resistance whatsoever as she stepped up close, wrapped her arms around his waist and molded her body to his. He simply let her do what she wanted and draped his arms loosely around her frame.
Her head moved automatically against his neck and a few seconds later she felt his head move to rest atop hers. A distant part of her mind wondered if he had fallen back to sleep on her.
Slowly she became aware of her hands; they were clasping her own arms around him. She was holding herself back out of habit. On a daily basis she had to hold herself in check with him, closely monitoring her own actions; constantly afraid that her touch would betray her feelings.
But tonight was all about letting her actions speak for her. She'd already taken the first, hard step, what could be easier now than just releasing the restraints?
Even before her mind could draw the final conclusion, her hands made the decision, and set out to explore new land. Lovingly, she caressed his back from the waistband of his boxers to the hair at the nape of his neck. Her fingers traced every muscle over the warm taut skin, moving higher while making sure not to miss an inch.
His shoulders were used as anchors, enabling her to hold onto him tightly once again, before letting her hands drift down along his sides and allowing a breath of air between their bodies.
His head rose from hers and his eyelids were still heavy, but no longer just from sleep, as he stared at her with a penetrating gaze.
Her hands, still of their own accord, started a path up his stomach, slowly inching their way up. Before long, they were covered by his hands and stilled. He dealt each of her palms a soft kiss, then brought them back to his waist again.
Half anticipating it, she tilted her head up and met him for a soft kiss that managed to contain only the tiniest fraction of the wave of emotion that rose from her toes and wanted to pour out of her mouth and into him.
And then he was holding her tight and she nestled into him. Her breath wasn't ragged and her heart wasn't pounding. A surreal calm had taken over her and she didn't question it.
The song still softly fingered the edges of her consciousness as she relaxed into Harm with a contented sigh.
Mac became aware of his hands when she felt a lone finger pressed against the middle of her back. His finger drew a long line down her spine, then it was gone. A horizontal line connected her shoulder blades, followed by another horizontal line across her lower back. 'I'.
She had a feeling she knew what was coming, but still held her breath as Harm went on drawing on her back. The heart shape brought a slow smile to her lips, and by the time he finished the curve of the letter 'U', she was laughing silently into his neck.
His confession filled her with such joy and relief that she found the ability to be amused by the almost corny sentiment, coming from this heroic and strong Navy Commander.
'Harmon Rabb Jr., if people only knew...' she thought.
Her silent laughs must've felt like hushed sobbing to him, because he pushed her away by the shoulders and the expression on his face held so much concern that it really did make her want to cry. But the signs of laughter calmed him instantly and a smile spread across his lips. Those lips now had her full attention.
Smiles faded as instinct took over and they met halfway for a slow deep kiss. At first it was only a soft touch, a simple tracing of borders, a light sensing of the other.
When his hand moved to cup her jaw they ventured further, finally getting a real taste. There was no turning back; the passionate exchange dove soul deep and bared everything.
They eventually broke apart for a few deep breaths and her jumbled mind tried to form a coherent thought in order to get some words out of her mouth. As she took a breath to speak, Harm stopped her with a short kiss.
She stared dumbfounded up at him, once more at a loss for words. He simply shrugged and gathered her closer still, resting his forehead against hers. She wasn't sure if he was afraid of what she might say or maybe he just wanted this moment to last a little longer.
A few minutes later, Mac found herself questioning Harm's level of awareness. For all she knew he had fallen asleep standing up. Feeling more of his weight shifting to her only confirmed her suspicions.
Her chuckles startled him awake and he drew back, an apology on his lips. With a wide smile she put two fingers to his lips; she didn't need any words from him, especially not 'sorry'.
Rising to the tips of her toes, she kissed him with all the love she knew how to show. Before she completely disentangled herself from his embrace, she planted a kiss on the bottom side of his chin, delighted in the chuckle this small action brought from him. Taking his hand in hers, she tugged him towards his bed. If he was going to fall asleep on her, she wanted to be lying in his arms, not trying to hold up his dead weight. Harm followed willingly.
As if following a well known ritual, Harm dug out one of his Navy T-shirts and handed it to Mac. Her eyes smiled with gratitude and she headed to the shower as he climbed back into bed.
Five minutes later she crawled under the sheets to his side, as if it wasn't the first time they were doing this. They were both completely comfortable.
Her body suddenly remembered that she too had been exhausted not too long ago. Within minutes they were both sound asleep in each other's arms.
-----
Harm woke up the next morning with a sigh and turned over to stare at the ceiling. He had dreamt of Mac again. These dreams were becoming a downright nuisance. Thank god he didn't have to worry about a girlfriend; he was pretty certain he wouldn't need a blow to the head to use Mac's name with another woman this time.
It had already happened with his new partner, Beth. They were arguing a point, he was getting exasperated and without realizing it, the next words out of his mouth were "Mac, come on!". Then he caught himself, and turned beat red. Beth just smiled. Needless to say she had won the argument on that technicality.
Grudgingly, he got out of bed to start a new day. The details of his dream came rushing back and the sun was suddenly shining brighter. Warmer. His hopes of miraculously working things out with Mac had infiltrated his unconscious mind.
He stared back at his reflection in the mirror – toothbrush sticking out the side of a smiling mouth. The conclusion of his dream was definitely more than words could have ever done for them outside the courtroom.
He really hadn't meant to give her that CD. As far as he was concerned, his anger was well justified and no message she left on his machine would change that.
He had heard the song while driving home one night and it had simply stuck. He found himself playing it on his guitar and singing along.
Little by little, as time went by, the resentment receded to the corners. In a moment of clarity he realized that this fury that was directed mostly at Mac, was mostly just hurting him. In the following moment he'd made the CD; making a copy of the one he had bought so that the cover wouldn't give it all away instantly.
He had briefly considered recording himself playing the song but it seemed too revealing, too personal at this point. For all he knew, she'd ignore it. So he slipped it under her door and now he was waiting for the outcome.
The dream went above and beyond what he realistically thought would happen when Mac found the CD. He tried to stay optimistic; though he was pretty sure real life would not grant him such a perfect result.
He went on with his morning routine through half closed eyes until he reached for his coffee machine. A small note was propped up against it. A small note bearing 4 small words that made his heart stop for a small while. "I love you too."
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The (slightly abrupt) End.