Fly Away II - His
by Sarah Brown
sbrown@slbrown.com
JAG and the characters are the property of Donald Bellasario, Paramount and CBS. No copyright infringement intended.
Harm struggled through the door and dropped the box of things from his office onto his desk. He started to unpack the box, then stopped. He rubbed his hand across the back of his head and looked around the apartment without really seeing anything. Normally he was decisive, but at the moment, he couldn't seem to figure out what to do next. He was in shock.
It seemed like one minute changing his designator was a distant dream, and the next minute not only was he on active flight status but he was on his way to a carrier. It had all happened so fast -- and the Admiral had done everything but fire a warning shot over his head to hurry him out of the office once he'd accepted his new assignment. Hell, he'd only gotten two steps out of the Admiral's office when he'd caught that pain-in-the-ass Brumby checking out his office. The Aussie hadn't even bothered to hide his excitement at taking his place.
And then, while he was still reeling, there was Mac, her eyes accusing. He couldn't think of a damn word to say to her, so he took refuge in banter. Told her she should wish him good luck. What an ass he'd been.
She'd asked him if he was in love, and all he could do was stare at her. For a moment, looking into her eyes, he'd thought he could see the same feelings there that flowed so strongly through him. For a moment, he'd thought about taking the biggest chance of his life -- telling her that he loved her. But then he'd let his doubts stop him -- again. She probably meant Jordie. He'd looked away.
And then she'd started crying, and her pain had stabbed through him. He'd felt so helpless. All he could do was brush her tears away as gently as he could. He'd felt like crying, too, but of course that was out of the question -- he was a fighter pilot, he wasn't supposed to cry.
She'd said there were so many things she wanted to say to him, but she couldn't find the words. He'd understood exactly what she meant. He couldn't even figure out how to say goodbye to her, let alone tell how he felt, how much she meant to him, how much he was going to miss her. He'd done the only thing he could think of; he'd pulled her into his arms and held her as tight as he could.
So now here he stood in his apartment, and he still couldn't figure out quite what had happened. He'd told the Admiral he had given a lot of thought to leaving JAG, but that had been when it seemed a long way off. Now that the moment was here, all he felt was confusion. And pain. Pain at the way the Admiral had dismissed him so abruptly. Pain at leaving behind the people who had come to mean so much to him -- Bud and Harriet, and now little A.J. Hell, he was even going to miss Tiner.
And pain at leaving Mac. How could he have thought it would be easy to walk away from her? He had told himself it wasn't forever, he'd be back to see her after his first tour of duty. And in the back of his mind he'd just assumed that she'd be there waiting for him, the same Mac, the same relationship, everything just the same as when he'd left her. Who was he kidding? Nothing was ever going to be the same again.
The worst part was, it felt so unfinished between them. He'd left so awkwardly, he hadn't said any of the things he'd meant to. Maybe he should go over there, try to explain to her . . . he wasn't sure what he wanted to explain to her. He wanted to start by wiping the hurt from her eyes, but he wasn't sure anything he could say would do it. Because whatever else happened, in less than 48 hours he was going to be on an aircraft carrier in Florida. The Navy didn't take kindly to sailors who said, "Oh, never mind," after accepting an assignment. Especially after the Admiral had gone to the Secretary of the Navy on his behalf.
Harm shook his head. This wasn't getting him anywhere. He had two days to pack and generally get his affairs in order, and it was time he got started.
As the hours passed and his duffel bag filled, Harm reached for the phone a dozen times. He would call Mac and just talk to her. Make sure she was okay. Make sure she hadn't reached for a bottle . . . the last thought sent a thrill of fear down his spine. Then he thought, I'm flattering myself. She made it through Chloe's leaving, and her father's funeral, she wasn't going to throw away all her hard work because one sailor was shipping out. Besides, he wasn't going to be around to look after her anymore. (Wouldn't Mac just laugh if she heard him say that!) He was going to have to trust her strength, her character. She'd do just fine without him, he thought with a touch of sadness and a lot of pride.
So he didn't pick up the phone. He kept packing, making lists, cleaning, anything to keep his mind occupied. And finally, he went to bed.
At 0600 his alarm woke him. He'd left it on out of habit, but he really didn't need to get up that early. He didn't have to report to the office today. The thought left him hollow, and he knew he'd never get back to sleep now. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. It occurred to him that Mac was probably just getting up, too. Maybe he should call her. He still wasn't sure what he'd say, but he couldn't leave things like this.
He reached for the phone . . .
THE END
This story copyright 1999 by Sarah Brown, all rights reserved.