It started with a kiss…
By Nettie
Disclaimer: I don't own them, just having fun.
It's pretty much a standalone, doesn't really fit into any specific season. No offence intended by the nature of the conference, this is a work of fiction.
Dedicated to Alix…I love your reviews, thank you so much!
--------------------------------------------------------------Promises--------------------------------------------------------------
TUESDAY 0023
LONDON BOUND FLIGHT
The cabin lights of the London bound flight dimmed and the passengers settled down for a few hours of sleep before the halls of Heathrow beckoned. Harm took his headphones off and then wrapped the cord neatly around them before placing them into the seat pocket in front of him. Mac pulled the blanket over herself and nestled against the window. She closed the shutter and then her eyes.
"Night," said Harm.
"Oh yeah, goodnight," Mac replied trying to sound indifferent.
Harm watched her for a long while. Only two days ago, thirty nine hours, he corrected himself, she had kissed him in the break room. Not a slow passionate one but a quick, spontaneous kiss on the lips as she was caught up with the excitement of the moment. Harm tried to recollect what had created the excitement but everything but the kiss had been blocked out. Mac had gone back to work and not said a word about it. He didn't know whether to acknowledge it or wait for Mac to say something. He only knew he was beginning to obsess about it.
For Mac's part, she had settled against the window and knew Harm was watching her. She had been in a great mood and kissing him in the break room had been unplanned. She had just won a difficult case, Chloe had spent the weekend and Harm had looked oh, so cute she just couldn't resist. Mac felt that while the next move should be up to Harm she could grow old and grey waiting. So she had vowed to herself as she had packed her suitcase that she would make as many moves as necessary to get a reaction. And though she desperately wanted him to respond in kind she would take any response, even being red lighted, as it would be an acknowledgement of her actions.
An hour into her 'slumber', Mac moved in her cramped seat and rested her head on his shoulder. She felt his strong arm surround her immediately and her head fall onto his chest. This was a position she had been in many times before and it was one which she loved. She stayed as still as possible, feigning sleep and listening to his heartbeat and his breathing.
When Harm coughed Mac knew he was awake. She waited a few minutes longer before making her move. Mac muttered something under her breath that Harm did not catch. She then raised her hand to his neck and her mouth to his. Keeping her eyes closed, Mac pulled his head closer and kissed him gently at first before making the kiss deeper and more intense. Breaking the kiss off suddenly she pulled back and muttered another string of incomprehensible words and drifted off to another fake sleep.
Harm sat there in stunned silence. The kiss the other day was a peck but this one, well, it was so much more. His first thought was he had dreamed it but then he wiped his mouth and saw the remnants of her lipstick, it was real. He contemplated his options and settled on the easiest – he wouldn't mention it.
After nearly another hour had passed Mac decided to up the ante, after all, she had a captive audience. She followed her first kiss with one that made him see stars. It wasn't just the touch of her lips on his or her tongue which briefly intruded into his mouth but the muttering. After a string of nonsensical words, Harm clearly caught the next part. "Oh God, Harmon Rabb, I love you." While Harm had been responding to her kiss he had been too stunned to reply to her declaration.
Two hours out from Heathrow the cabin lights came back on and trolley service began.
"Hey there, Flyboy, sleep well?" Mac wearily yawned and stretched in her seat.
"Like a log," he lied. "You?"
"Surprisingly well," she smiled shyly.
"Oh," he said.
"You sound disappointed." Mac tilted her head and smiled.
"No, no, I just thought … I thought you were awake for part of it." Harm said, quickly.
"Maybe but I don't think so. I do know I was having this incredible dream and…" She was enjoying this.
"And?" he prompted.
"Never you mind," she giggled. Harm blushed. After her kisses and declaration, he was certainly hoping he had been starring in her dreams.
TUESDAY 0800
HOTEL GRANGER
From the time the plane landed at Heathrow at 0756 Harm and Mac became the image of professionalism. Lack of sleep, jetlag and personal issues were put aside. They checked into their accommodation, The Hotel Granger on The Strand. They had adjoining rooms and Mac chose the one with the bigger bathroom, even though it was still the size of a shoe box.
Showered and dressed, they were met by Oliver Hume in the hotel foyer at 1100. Oliver was an MI6 operative; he was also an unofficial liaison between the British and American governments and was currently attached to the CIA. Mac and Harm were in London to attend the conference on the changing role of the military in response to the war on terrorism.
Neither Harm nor Mac had been an original delegate to the conference but Bud was caught up with a court martial that was becoming decidedly messy and Sturgis' father had taken seriously ill. So, they had only 72 hours notice of their conference attendance. Neither of them minded the break in routine or the chance to spend some down time together in London.
"Colonel MacKenzie, Commander Rabb?" asked a tall blonde man in black as he approached them.
"Yes," said Harm extending his hand. "You must be Oliver Hume."
"I must be," Oliver laughed at his own joke. "Pleased to meet you, Commander, and you too, Colonel." He held Mac's hand a little longer than was necessary, according to Harm that was.
"Ahem," Harm coughed. "What's on the agenda?"
"A quick tour around the Houses of Parliament, lunch at The Carlton with a few of the delegates from Russia, France and Britain," answered Oliver.
"That should be an interesting lunch given the different positions of our four nations," commented Mac.
"It should," agreed Oliver, his proper English accent amusing Mac.
"It should," she repeated mimicking him.
"Imitation is the highest form of flattery, Sarah. May I call you Sarah?"
"Of course, Oliver," Mac replied.
"Anyway, after lunch there will be a short interval before the official conference opening at 1600 with the welcome and two keynote speakers in the Carrington Room at The Carlton. Dinner will be at 1930 with the evening set aside for social activities. The conference will then start in earnest tomorrow at 0900. There will be two full days, concluding with dinner and dancing on Thursday night. After that your time is your own. When are you due to depart?"
"Friday 1725," answered Mac.
"Well, I'll have to see about giving you a quick tour of the old town on Friday morning," he smiled, winking at Mac.
Harm wasn't impressed. "I guess we should be off," he said.
THE CARRINGTON ROOM, THE CARLTON HOTEL
Lunch was a stilted affair. Mac sat between Oliver and Francois Dupree, a French government official who felt it was beneath him to talk to those in the military. So Mac spent her time chatting to Oliver,tough job but someone has to do it she thought to herself. Oliver had rugged good looks and sparkling blue eyes, she was a sucker for blue eyes, and his voice was captivating – it made everything he said sound important.
For his part, Harm was trapped on the next table between Alexandro Sharpov, an interpreter for Mikael Checkov, a Russian General, sitting on the other side of him and Edward Christian, a civilian lawyer engaged by the British Army who made it perfectly clear that he would rather be anywhere else than at this pitiful attempt at playing United Nations, as he put it.
Alexandro was working overtime letting all on his table know the General's thoughts on everything from the food being tasteless to Blair being a puppet for Bush imperialism. Alexandro looked embarrassed at the many things he was required to interpret but it was his job and he had little choice.
When lunch had concluded and the irritating and irritated guests went their separate ways Harm sought out Mac and Oliver.
"How did it go?" asked Mac.
"Swimmingly," said Harm in his best English accent.
"Great," said Mac smiling at Oliver.
"What do you want to do now?" Harm asked her.
"Well, we have two hours to the opening of the conf…" Oliver began.
"103 minutes actually," Mac corrected.
"Pardon? How did you do that? You didn't even look at your watch," said Oliver, eyes wide with surprise.
"It's a skill they teach in the Marines," Mac lied.
"Really?!" Oliver was impressed.
"Anyway…" Harm prompted.
"Anyway…in our 103 minutes or 102 minutes by now, I was going to suggest we pop over to the MI6 HQ and have a quick looksee. I have authorisation to do so and it's only two blocks away. Interested?" offered Oliver.
Harm wasn't. Well, he was interested in MI6 but not in spending anymore time with Oliver Hume but, as Mac had already said yes, he too accepted the offer.
HOTEL GRANGER
TUESDAY 2347
"Good evening sir, madam," said the doorman as Harm and Mac returned to the hotel just before midnight. The conference opening and dinner had all gone well – nothing earth shattering but informative and enjoyable nonetheless. They had left Oliver at The Carlton before hailing a black cab back to theirs.
"Evening," they replied in unison.
They waited in the foyer for the lift and Mac stifled a yawn.
"I wouldn't have thought you'd be tired after you sleep on the plane," Harm chided.
Mac smiled at the mere thought of their plane trip – it seemed so long ago.
"Changed your mind?" asked Harm.
"Huh?"
"Changed your mind about coming up?" said Harm from inside the lift.
Mac had drifted off and had not realised it had arrived.
"Oh yeah, I mean no," she said wandering in.
Mac nestled down under her duvet where it was warm and cosy. She played over her antics from the flight. She would have liked nothing more than to open the adjoining door and get into Harm's bed but decided that it may have been pushing things a bit too far. So instead she settled for closing her eyes and drifting off happily.
Harm wasn't as settled in his bed. He was cold and thought his bed was lumpy. As he lay in his bed he heard the shower start to drip. Annoyed, he got up and tried to fix it but it was to no avail. He got back into bed and lay there looking at the ceiling tiles. He pulled his duvet higher and counted water drops. When his annoyance became too much he got out of bed and stared out the window.
At first he couldn't figure it out. He had slept soundly in places that were more uncomfortable, in places which were colder and where things had been a lot noisier. Now, here in the relative luxury of a hotel room, he couldn't sleep and then it hit him.
Gently Harm knocked on the adjoining door and, getting no answer, opened it.
"Mac, you awake?" he whispered loudly. There was no answer. He moved closer to the bed, only the top of her head visible under the duvet.
"Mac, you awake?" he said again trying to wake her.
"Hmm, yeah," came the mumbled reply.
"Mac?"
"What?" she was awake this time. "What's wrong?"
"Look, I hate to do this," he lied, "but can I sleep here?"
"Why?"
Well because I love you and I want to ravish your body, he thought to himself. "The shower's dripping, the room's cold and the bed's lumpy," he said sadly.
Mac pulled back the duvet and Harm got in. She would have accepted I don't like the wallpaper.
Before long sleep engulfed them both – a peaceful, restful sleep.