Herzschlag

Disclaimer: JAG and its characters belong to Bellisarius Productions. No monetary gain is made from this endeavor. I'm just borrowing them for my and hopefully other people's entertainment.

AN: Title is German and means 'heartbeat.' My answer to the HBX September Challenge, lines used are from the episode "Full Engagement." You might also find a few other lines from the show, but that's not related to any challenge; they just came in handy.

Just a short shipper scene set after the end of "Embassy." Mac's POV.

This could be called 'another train story,' even though there is no train in it or in any way involved, LOL. I should ride them more though, apparently they are very inspiring. To me. Then again, it might not be good, in which case maybe I should stop writing on the train. ;-)

Warmest Thanks, as always, to Staz, for her wonderful help with proofreading and general enthusiasm-spreading even when she has the sniffles!

Please enjoy!

o o o o o o

Herzschlag

Her bedroom door was barely closed behind her when Mac toed the high-heeled shoes off her throbbing feet. She left them where they fell and limped toward her bathroom, slipping out of her dress in the process.

What an evening. Didn't they just know that there would be more than the simple 'in and out in two minutes max' they had been promised! Webb was involved after all. She chuckled remembering the awed look she had received from the underhanded spy when she had shown up dressed to kill. 130 pounds her ass! She picked up the dress off the floor and tossed it on her bed. Real shame though about the rip it now had. It wasn't every day that she was supplied with a dress this stunning courtesy of the government.

Not that she had two thoughts to rub together about how Webb looked at her. Now Harm on the other hand… She sighed while examining her body in the mirror for any visible bruises. He had been much more subtle, of course, quickly hiding any reaction. But she had caught it. Had noticed how his eyes had widened when she had appeared in the doorway of the Admiral's office. Just for a second or two. How they had turned just a shade darker, glinting with something that she would like to interpret as admiration… desire…

If only.

She winced when her fingertips came in contact with her bruised shoulder. Anyway, the shutters had closed and she had turned right back into good ol' Mac. She sighed again, simultaneously feeling ridiculous for continuing to drool after him. Unrequitedly.

He really did look dashing in his mess dress though. She wished they had had a chance to dance together. Just once. Three to four minutes of being in his arms. His hands on her skin. Their bodies aligning, following the ebb and flow of each note with natural synchrony. Three to four minutes of pure indulgence that would have needed to hold her over for months, maybe years to come. She caught herself slightly swaying to the beats of an imagined rhythm and quickly straightened.

Nevertheless it had been a fun night. Well, maybe fun was the wrong term. But they had done well, Harm and she. They were a great team. And as it was, she did get her moment in his arms, didn't she. She could still feel the length of his arm around her, his fingers slightly digging into her waist as he helped her down the stairs. She had leaned her head against his shoulder and had remained there until they reached the car. Enjoying the rub of the fabric against her skin, the feel of his muscles underneath, his arousing scent clouding her senses. He had insisted on bringing her home and helping her upstairs. She could walk just fine, of course, but she hadn't really wanted the night to end so she had let him.

She was a little worried about him though. In the car, he had grown increasingly quiet and subdued, and by the time they arrived at her doorstep, he was completely withdrawn, staring past her into some dark void only he could see. So she had talked him into having a cup of tea with her. Maybe she could figure out what had so completely altered his mood since they left the embassy. She didn't have much hope that he would talk about it; getting him to talk about his emotions was like pulling teeth. But maybe she could at least get a feel of things. Or take his mind off whatever was bothering him, distract him with mindless chatter, hot flavorful tea and silly television shows.

Satisfied that her bruises were hardly visible, she turned around and reached for her bathrobe. It wasn't hung on the hook at the back of her door though. She searched her mind for where she had had it last, then remembered that she had dressed in her bedroom before she left for the party tonight. So she had probably thrown it on the easy chair next to her bed, that's where it usually was. She opened the bathroom door and walked back into her bedroom.

Then stopped abruptly, frozen in her last movement.

Harm was sitting on her bed.

She threw her arms across her chest, a first automatic reaction to cover up her near-nakedness. She was only in her underwear, after all, what little of it there was. She was wearing a set of dark blue, lace lingerie, chosen to fit with the dress. Strapless bra that barely covered all of her, but invisible under the dress. Thong panties so she'd show no panty lines… She felt more exposed than if she'd actually been naked.

She was breathing rapidly, shock rendering her motionless in a silly, bad TV-comedy like position. But ever so slowly, information was again filtering through her senses and into her mind.

Harm was not moving. He wasn't looking either. He was simply sitting on her bed with his head hung low. His elbows resting on his thighs, his hands dangling down just as motionless. His whole posture screamed sadness and grief.

Mac was really concerned now, couldn't figure out what was going on in his mind. What had occurred between the embassy and here that had him drenched in sorrow? She had seen him grieving before. They were so much closer now, emotionally, after their trip to Russia and discovering his father's destiny. But this reaction seemed really unlike him.

She watched him for long moments, her mind rushing through thoughts with lightning speed while her posture slowly relaxed, her arms falling back to her sides.

She felt drawn to him. There was an urgent, cramping need within her to help him, to give him what he seemed to call out for, to support him in whatever he went through. He needed something, and she was prepared to give it to him. Whatever it was. Walking toward her bed, she wanted to first retrieve her bathrobe. She tried tiptoeing around him so as not to disturb him. Yet when she was almost past him, his hand suddenly reached out.

His fingers grabbed her wrist and he tugged her toward him. Before her mind had caught up to the unexpected movement, she was standing cradled between his legs.

Harm wrapped both his arms tightly around her waist, holding her close. Laid his cheek against her belly. Sighed deeply, once, then went completely still again.

Her head began spinning, trying to keep up with the multitude of emotions that raced through her.

Never before had she been this close to him.

He held on to her tightly. She couldn't move. Nor did she want to move. She felt flushed, could feel the heat bubbling through her veins. Her skin tingled with heightened awareness.

This was the strangest, most unexpected thing he had ever done. And yet it was the most perfect, honest reaction he had ever shown her.

Her awareness of him was all-encompassing. She could feel the tenseness of his muscles through his hold on her. Grief and worry seemingly radiated from his pores. He was drawing from her. Like a parched man finally receiving water he drew from her strength, her trust in him, her energy. Her. And she was prepared to give him everything she had and everything she was.

Slowly lifting her arms, she cradled his shoulders. Drawing him ever closer to her. Her other hand went to his head, her fingers tunneling through the strands of his soft hair.

For long minutes it was the only movement in the room. Repeatedly, she slid her fingers through his hair. Caressed his scalp with soft pressure. While his shallow breaths whispered across her skin in moist gushes. While she lost track of time.

"I'm sorry I left you there," he whispered. His voice barely audible despite the silence that permeated the room.

She had to flip through the memories of all that had happened at the Embassy to figure out what he might mean.

"You didn't leave me, Harm." She assured him. "We split up, remember?" He gave her a nod, so small that she never would've noticed it had she not felt a tiny rubbing motion of his cheek against the skin of her tummy. His skin was so soft, velvety, barely a stubble noticeable, and she smiled to herself remembering how he 'had already shaved twice tonight.'

"And if we hadn't we'd probably both be dead by now," she continued. He didn't acknowledge that.

Her fingers went on another journey through his hair. "Besides, I'm a Marine. You know I can take care of myself."

Suddenly he turned his face and burrowed it into her tummy. The tip of his nose poked into her skin just next to her belly button. "But you got hurt," he insisted against her skin. Gripped her waist tighter.

She felt they were getting closer now to whatever the issue was.

"I'm okay, Harm," she reassured him. She brought her fingers under his chin and lifted his face so he'd look at her. Their eyes connected and she gave him a warm smile. "I'm fine. Really." He let out a long slow breath, but there was still such sadness in his eyes. She had no time to analyze it further, as his face was instantly hidden in her belly again. She cradled him in her arms. And waited.

"Why do I have the feeling that this has something to do with your father?" She wondered after a while. She hadn't actually meant to say it aloud, but as soon as it had slipped past her lips, his whole body tensed. And she knew she had struck gold.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly," he murmured, slightly shaking his head so that his hair tickled her belly.

His voice was lost, his posture defeated, his muscles hardened. Her heart broke all over again for the lonely, hurt little boy that was still buried deep inside her tenacious, truth-seeking, confident Naval aviator slash lawyer. He held her tightly, as if she was his lifeline, his only grip to reality, and she was overflowing with a rush of warmth and love for this man. She only hoped that what she was giving him was enough. Holding him in her arms. Taking his weakness and giving him strength. Even though it would never be enough for her.

Then he suddenly started talking.

"I lost him. I mean, I think I always knew, deep down…" He drew a shaky breath, his words leaving his mouth with starts and stops. "But now he's truly lost to me. It's so harsh… and incomprehensible… and final…" He unwrapped his arms from around her and brought a hand on each side of her waist. His thumbs began to dance soft circles onto her skin. "So painful."

He lifted his face to look at her, and Mac felt like she was drowning in the ocean-blue depth of his eyes. "And now tonight, you almost… I realized that I couldn't… How would I…" Another shaky breath gushed out.

"I wouldn't survive if I lost you, too."

The anguish of his voice, his grip on her, the pain in his eyes all sliced through her like freshly sharpened knives. No longer could she stop her tears from escaping from their confines.

"I promise you, no matter what, you'll never lose me, Harm."

"How can you say that? Look at my dad! He couldn't… He didn't… So much could happen, just like tonight… You can't promise that!"

She reached for him and cradled his face within her hands. Wiped away the moisture that had collected under his eyes with her thumbs.

"Don't you think I'm afraid of that, too?" She looked away. Stared at her wall, trying to collect the bravery to admit what had lived hidden in her heart for so long. Then looked back into his eyes.

"Harm, I'm just as scared of that as you. There are no guarantees in life. None. We both learned that the hard way. But Harm, I can promise you this. Whatever happens, wherever I'd be, I would try to get back to you as long as I draw breath. Because I wouldn't survive without you either."

"Oh Mac…" he sighed, her name like a prayer on his lips. She smiled a wobbly, watery smile. He pulled her waist toward him again and returned to what seemed to be his new favorite spot, laying his warm, tear-stained cheek against her skin.

They were clinging to each other. Drowning in the enormity of their declarations. Desperate to hold on to the one person they could not live without. His arms wrapped around her. Hers draped over his shoulders. His legs sandwiching hers. His warm hands on her skin. Her fingers in his hair.

Gradually, Mac could feel the tension seeping out of his body, his muscles relaxing. His mind finding the peace that had eluded him before.

And with every bit of tension that vanished, her awareness of him grew in spades. Of having him so close, feeling him on her skin and in her heart. Being held by him as if she was the most important person in his world. A heat she could barely contain viscously flowed through her extremities and heavily pooled in her belly. Her tummy contracted in its unfulfilled ache for him. This overwhelming, life-altering ache that she had had to restrain for years now.

His hold on her changed. She couldn't tell what it was, but it felt different, somehow.

"I can hear your heart beat," he announced, his voice no longer sounding lost or sad. This voice was different, wondrous, soft and warm. Laced with undercurrents that she couldn't quite read but that made her fingers tingle. "It's racing."

She chuckled softly, a little embarrassed. "Nerves, I guess."

"Nerves?" He questioned incredulously. He moved his head, now resting his chin against her belly while looking up at her. There was a teasing twinkle in his eyes, and she mentally tried to prepare herself for a charm assault 'a la Harm.'

"I thought the Marines are supposed to have nerves of steel?"

"Well, that only works when they are not seven eighths undressed."

The awareness of her state of undress hit them both with the force of a steam train. The space between them suddenly seemed to crackle and sparkle.

He remained motionless. Looked at her. Took her in. His eyes glinted darkly in the softly lit room, and now she was sure she saw want and need and desire in them.

"You are so beautiful," he declared solemnly. She felt herself blush under the unabashed admiration in his eyes. Then his fingertips went exploring. They were caressing up and down the sides of her waist. Across her lower back. Round again and toward her stomach. Tracing circles and doodles over her skin, and every spot he touched was tingling with heightened sensitivity, as if the patterns he drew were permanently tattooed into its layers.

While continuing his assault on her senses with his fingertips, he dipped his face forward again. Almost reverently, he placed tender kisses onto the skin of her belly. Mere pecks of his lips, yet they seared into her like nothing ever had. Helplessly, her arms dropped weekly down her sides, her eyes fluttered closed.

He licked a circle around her belly button, and her head fell back with a moan. She couldn't think. Couldn't analyze or rationalize. Could only savor each touch, each kiss. She had hoped, wished, needed, ached for this for so long. Had to hold this overwhelming, larger-than-life love she felt for him hostage in her heart.

Enraptured by his caresses, the words just slipped out, undaunted, unchecked. Merely a throaty whisper, yet with the force of a thunderclap.

"I love you Harm."

She froze. Felt him tense. Her eyes snapped open, her spine straightened. The caresses stopped. His fingers dug into her waist, gripping her tightly.

Damn it, she had ruined it! Had said the L word, a sure way to scare him away. What if he didn't feel the same? The awkwardness would ruin everything between them. She was so stupid! She had ruined it, ruined it, ruine…

"Mac… Sarah," he pleaded, "look at me."

At the urgency in his voice, she slowly dropped her face. Their eyes connected almost audibly. The look in his eyes was so intense that her knees buckled. They held a host of emotions she had always hoped but never envisioned him to have toward her. She didn't realize she was holding her breath.

"I love you too."

The air rushed out of her lungs and she could only stare at him. Harm softly nodded his head, as if to underline the reality of his words with the gesture.

Reality finally seemed to filter into her every pore. He loved her! Warm happiness spread through her as she had never felt before. Bubbled over. She could no longer contain the huge smile that seemed to break out of her whole being.

The man she had dreamed of and loved for years. It was true. He was hers. She was his. It was real.

She cradled his face in her hands again. First caressed it only with her eyes. Then with her fingertips, trailing them over his cheeks and down chin with quiet intensity.

When his eyes fell closed, when she felt she was going to burst with suppressed energy, when she virtually pulsated with longing, she touched her lips to his. Discovered their softness and his taste with gentle touches and nips. He met her caresses, sought more. At once, they were clinging to the other, their embrace deep, discovering, fulfilling. They kissed with fervent love and tender passion. Then came back for more.

Entwined with each other, they had finally found home.

THE END