Written by M.A.G~ E-mail: Gypsyroo@aol.com
Disclaimer: JAG and its characters don't belong to me, and never will. I'm just borrowing them. I promise I'll put them back in the same state of disarray when I'm done with them. I'll let DPB and his team of writers clean up that mess and they better! Anyway, don't sue me, I have no money.
*Note: I wrote this in the middle of the night when I should have been sleeping. Boy was school fun the ensuing day...Anyway, this is a first person narrative of Mac's thoughts during the end of Surface Warfare
Spoilers: Boomerang II, Surface Warfare

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{{Suffocation}}


Three words resonated in my head, oh my god! Mic Brumby was moving to the United States. My "friend," my almost fiancé. I know I should be overjoyed, but I can't handle this. I know he's here to pressure me to make a decision. I see Harm and Renée who are in front of us. Harm turns his head and I meet the shock in his eyes. Those eyes. Deep blue, like the sea. You can easily lose yourself in those azure depths, and I was a drowning victim. My "fiancé" told me he was moving to Washington, D.C. to be with me, the woman he loves and I can do is stare at Harm.

Renée notices that Harm lost interest in what she was saying about herself, and sees us staring at each other. Vying for his attention, Cecilia B. De Mille tugs on Harm's shoulder, tightening her hold on him as we all continue walking. That brings me back to reality. It seems like Harm and I were staring for hours, but in actuality, it was a few brief wonderful seconds. I feel Brumby's eyes on me. To satisfy him, I force a smile with enough wattage to light up all of Washington.

"Sarah..."Mic says to me, but I don't get that same feeling I do on the rare occasion Harm resorts to using my given name. I am not referring to the times when Harm says my first name in conjunction with my rank and last name during introductions, but the times he calls me just, Sarah. When he calls me Sarah, my heart pounds and my pulse races. Who am I kidding?

I am only kidding myself. Do I really love, Mic? I suppose a part of me does, that same part of me that craves to be needed, wanted and loved. Was I ever really serious about marrying, Mic? Have I been wearing this ring to hurt Harm after he pushed me away in Australia to tell him I'm not waiting for him or to set off sirens in his head that it'll soon be too late? Is this band on my finger here just to act as an impetus for Harm to finally let go? My heart knows the answer. I never intentionally meant to lead Mic on or use him in any way. I was settling. I was doing what I thought was supposed to make me happy. Why do I do half the things I do?

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Later, on the ball room floor, Harm and I are dancing, but we are each in another's arms. I wished the arms wrapped around my waist so lovingly were those of the man I watch from across the room. Our eyes meet. I don't even notice that I am staring at him, into him. Mirrored in his intense blue orbs, I can see the pain and desperation and pain in his soul. I wish I could heal those wounds in his soul and make everything better. I want to. I'm drowning. I'm losing. I'm suffocating. I hesitantly turn my attention back to Mic, still feeling the weight of Harm's stare and the burden I'm about to be free of.

"Mic, I made a decision." I say. I slip the ring off my finger and he takes it from my hand. I look up at him, wanting to say I'm sorry. I'm not really sorry. I had to do this. I'm not really sure what I should say. He takes my hand in his. "I'm..." I start to say. To my grand astonishment, he slips the ring onto my left ring finger. Well, that went well. Next time I decline a marriage proposal I'll have to remember to be more direct. Mic totally misconstrued my intentions.

My face contorts, I need to say something but I never get the chance. I hear the cheers of congratulatory onlookers. This is a mess. I'm trapped. I can't tell Mic that he was totally presumptuous. I can't tell him that I was in fact about to decline his proposal, and return the ring now that everyones' eyes focused on us.

I force a smile as I look around. I spot Harm and see the shock and disdain in his eyes. He's angry, he hurting. Renée sighs a sigh of relief. I am no longer a threat. I can almost see the gears shifting in her head. I murmur a preprogrammed reply to people who approach, and take on the façade of a happy woman who has just gotten engaged to the man she loves.

I need to tell Harm I can't marry Brumby because I love him. Hell, I need to tell Mic that I can't marry him first! Of course, I can't do either. Not right now, anyway. This is such a disaster. I feel like the room is spinning around me. This is all wrong, so wrong. This isn't happening. I feel lightheaded. Mic kisses my cheek and says something to the man next to him. They walk away. I'm afraid I'm going to pass out. If I fall, I know I will be caught, but just by the wrong man. I see Harm coming forth. I feel my throat constrict and my mouth is bitterly arid. I collapse and land on the marble floor, as if some symbolic omen, no one really catches me.

I hear a familiar voice. "Sarah, wake up. Please." I hear gasps. I open my eyes to find Harm hovering over me. I feel his hands underneath my head. "I reached you just in time before you hit your head." Harm says to me. I look into his eyes for a moment and forget where I am.

"I need a concussion like a hole in my head. Thanks, superman." I joke.

I look around me and see people surrounding me. I see Mic, his back to me. "Sarah? I turn my head for a second" he says, looking for me before finally spotting me on the floor. He rushes over. "Are you alright, luv?" he asks.

I try to sit up. "No." Harm says.

"I'm fine. Help me up." I insist. Finally, he obliges.

"What happened?" Mic asks.

"I suffocated." I reply. Harm and Mic both look at me funny, and then at each other.

"I need to talk to you in private, Mic." I say, and then I look into Harm's eyes before turning away.

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