A/N: This piece was written as a birthday fic for AvaniHeath and she convinced me to share it with you. Story will be up completely by tonight. Also, for those of you who read my on-going JAG fic "The Ties That Bind"—I'm uploading a new chapter of that today as well.
Enjoy!
As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!
Title and lyrics are from "Wonderwall" by Oasis.
Disclaimer: JAG is property of Donald P. Bellisario. I'm only borrowing.
CHAPTER ONE
Today is gonna be the day
That they're gonna throw it back to you
By now you should've somehow
Realised what you gotta do
Wonderwall, Oasis
I
Walking into McMurphy's tonight, Harm had intended to get drunk.
His day had been particularly awful—he'd spectacularly lost in court, then gotten into an argument about it with Mac afterwards. Arguing seemed to be all they were doing lately, normal conversation impossible. He knew that it didn't have to be this way, but he couldn't help himself. He just reacted, responding with a biting—and sometimes hurtful—remark when he should have kept his mouth shut, allowing her to push his buttons and pushing hers in return. He was aware of what he was doing, but he seemed unable to stop.
He readily admitted that he wasn't handling this situation—this twisted and awkward situation—very well. And still… Since Mac's return from the LHA things had been tense. More so than usual. But there was nothing he could do to fix it. It had to run its course, and he hoped that their friendship would survive. It wasn't like they hadn't hit a bump in the road before; this time it was just taking them a bit longer to get past it. They both had to figure things out for themselves, Mac probably more than he did.
Friendship, he thought bitterly as he raised his glass to his lips. Was that all they were ever going to be? Friends?
"So?" Sturgis asked, eyebrows lifted expectantly.
Harm drained his glass and put it down with a soft clink. Sturgis had a way of approaching things had-on; he wasn't one to beat around the bush. Harm, who lived in a world where worlds were routinely turned and twisted until you couldn't be sure anymore what they meant, normally found that refreshing; it was one of the things he liked about Sturgis.
Tonight, however, he didn't. Mac wasn't a topic he wanted to discuss. Not even with a friend.
"I'll have another beer," Harm said when the waitress passed their table, holding an empty tray. She gave him a quick smile and a cheerful, "Coming right up!" before she was off again, disappearing into the crowd.
"There's some tension," he admitted finally, in response to what Sturgis had said earlier.
There's tension between you and Mac.
Really?
"I haven't slept with her though," he added, not quite sure what compelled him to say it.
For some reason, Sturgis seemed to find this amusing; his lips twitched. "Maybe that's the problem," he replied.
"There is no problem."
This thing with him and Mac wasn't about sex. Never had been. And sleeping with her would only complicate things further. Besides, he didn't want that. Casual relationships were the ones he preferred because they meant that he didn't have to commit. But with Mac, he wanted more than that. He wanted to commit, but he couldn't.
Not yet.
Is that how long we're going to wait?
Eternity.
What was he waiting for?
"There is no problem," Harm repeated.
Sturgis didn't look convinced.
His beer came, and Sturgis watched him drink for a minute, then said, "I just want to understand what's going on."
"You and me both," Harm muttered. How could he possibly explain to Sturgis something he himself didn't quite grasp?
"Are you in love with her?" Sturgis asked suddenly, blunt and straightforward as always.
Harm stared at him. "What kind of question is that?" he managed eventually, his mouth dry.
Where did that come from?
He closed his hand around the glass, his knuckles straining white against his skin.
If Sturgis noticed his sudden tension, he didn't let on. "A simple yes or no question."
"There's nothing simple about that question," Harm snapped. He flagged the waitress down for another beer. He knew he was going to regret this in the morning, but at the moment he didn't give a damn. Why couldn't Sturgis just go away and leave him in peace? "And I'm not having this conversation with you," he added sharply. "Not now. Not ever. Mac is off-limits. We clear?"
"I think you've had too much to drink," Sturgis replied quietly.
Harm glared into his glass. Damn it! He ran his hand over his face, suddenly feeling very tired.
You're an arrogant bastard, Mac had said to him this afternoon.
It wasn't by far the worst insult he'd ever heard, but coming from her, it had hurt. Mostly because she was right.
He'd insulted her first, unable to accept that she'd done a good job, which she had. Looking at it objectively, he could see that. Subjectively, however, his ego bruised from taking a beating, not so much.
"Damn it," he whispered.
"You know, talking to her might help," Sturgis suggested, in a quiet voice. "Oh, come on, Harm," he said when Harm stared at him. "I've seen you with plenty of women, but this," he gestured at him, "isn't something I've ever seen before. You're in love with her. Just tell her how you feel."
He'd also forgotten how observant Sturgis was. "It's a little more complicated than that," he grit out.
"It doesn't look that complicated to me," Sturgis said.
Harm clenched his fists.
"If you just talked to her—"
"She knows!" Harm said, his voice raised; people in his general vicinity turned their heads in his direction, curious. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he counted to ten in his head. "She knows," he repeated, more quietly. He'd never said the actual words to her, but he knew that she knew.
But it wasn't enough. Too much had happened. If he went to her, if he finally figured out how to cut that lifeline Mac had accused him of clinging to and was ready to commit, would she take him? Or had they already moved past that point where that kind of relationship was possible?
That was what he was afraid of—that she had already moved on. That what he kept thinking of as a bump in the road they'd eventually get past was something far more serious that heralded the end of their friendship.
For some reason, Sturgis seemed surprised by his answer. Frowning, he took a sip of his own drink, then shook his head, somewhat incredulous. "She does?"
"Yeah." Harm sighed. "She does." He glanced down; his glass was empty, but he couldn't remember draining it, which probably meant that he'd had enough. As the thought crossed his mind, the alcohol started to make itself felt; his vision went blurry, his arms suddenly heavy as lead.
Coming here was a bad idea, he thought wearily. If he'd known he'd run into Sturgis, he would have stayed at home.
"Well," Sturgis said after a moment, "that explains a lot."
"Explains what?"
Sturgis shook his head, his eyebrows knit together, absently tapping his fingers on the edge of the table; he seemed to be warring with himself, but over what Harm had no idea. Finally, he sat back, a serious expression on his face. "I'm going to tell you something that I promised I would keep to myself," he said quietly.
"Okay." Harm found himself sitting up straighter, intrigued. The sudden change of subject confused him; he couldn't fathom what this had to do with Mac. But perhaps it didn't. He hoped so—he didn't want to talk about her anymore.
He had no such luck.
"You do know that Mac's in love with you too, right?"
Harm sighed. "I want to believe that," he admitted, running his finger over the rim of his empty glass. "And there was a time when she was. But now…" He trailed off as the memory of their argument resurfaced. "You saw what happened today."
Everyone had seen. And heard. After Mac's—completely justified—remark, things had gone downhill; they'd started yelling at each other, and things would probably have escalated completely if Bud hadn't interrupted them. But judging by the looks on people's faces when he'd walked to the elevator afterwards, they'd heard.
They'd argued before, but not like this, and it made him think that perhaps it was too late, that even their friendship couldn't be salvaged.
"I did," Sturgis replied, "but I wasn't asking a hypothetical question. She's in love with you. She told me."
Harm stared at him, incredulous. "Why would she tell you?"
Sturgis shrugged. "She didn't mean to. It just slipped out."
"Why are you telling me this?" Harm asked tonelessly. "If she made you promise to keep it a secret, then she obviously doesn't want me to know."
But hadn't he known all along? No, he corrected himself. He'd only suspected, and then things had changed between them, causing him to believe that she had moved on, that she had slipped out of his reach for good. That he was deluding himself into believing that there was still a chance to set things right only because he couldn't face the bitter truth.
Suspecting and knowing, he suddenly realised, were two very different things.
"No," Sturgis agreed, "she doesn't. What I don't get is why. Why do you keep making yourselves miserable?"
"I'm not," Harm replied, irritated.
Sturgis looked pointedly at the empty glass in front of him. "Really? Then why are you sitting here, getting drunk?"
Harm stared at the table, his jaw set.
"You know what I think? I think that both of you are afraid to take the first step. Afraid to commit. Now, I don't know about the colonel, but you've never committed easily, Harm. You always tried to keep it casual."
Yeah, I do that, don't I? But he'd learned early on not to let people in, to keep them at arm's length so that when they left, it wouldn't hurt so much. He couldn't bear the thought of losing Mac, but if things didn't work out because he screwed up, because he couldn't give her what she wanted and needed and, above all else, deserved, he would. And if he committed to her, if he let go of his lifeline and she wasn't there to catch him, then where would that leave him?
"You know what I always found strange about you?" Sturgis asked after a moment.
Harm didn't look up. "What?"
"That as a pilot you took chances all the time. But where your personal life is concerned, you're so much in control that it's painful to watch. You'd rather be unhappy, or at least not as happy as you could be, than take a risk."
If you lose control in my world, you die.
And what world was that, exactly? The world of law books and court rooms?
"Life is all about risks, Harm. About taking chances." Sturgis rubbed his chin. "And Harm, do you honestly think she'll wait for you forever? Eventually, she'll decide that she's had enough and find a way to move on."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Harm admitted.
And yet… And yet…
"Just think about what you could have," Sturgis said. He got up and reached into his pocket, tossing a handful of bills on the table. "It might be worth the risk."
