Disclaimer: Don't own'em
A/N: Takes place right after 'Life and Death' – the one where Mac defends the guy on death row and Brumby returns to Australia.
--
Hide and Seek
Mac turned up the collar of her coat, and braced herself against the chill in the wind. She decided that the weather matched her mood. Cold and dark and somber and just plain shitty. With a hurried step, Mac crossed the street towards her car. If she was lucky, no one had noticed her slipping out of the bar. This was a night to spend alone.
"Mac. Wait up." Harm called after her, just as she entered the parking lot.
She stopped, and waited for him to catch up, resigned to the fact that her attempts to sneak out of McMurphy's unnoticed had obviously failed. Some marine.
"Hey, Mac. You alright?" He asked as he came to stand in front of her, still buttoning up his coat.
"Fine thanks, Harm." She forced herself to look at him, no matter how interesting her shoes were. "I just wanted to call it an early night."
The expression on his face told her just how little he believed her.
"There's something else, Mac." He searched her face, hesitated. "Is it about Mic leaving..."
She chuckled dryly. "Hardly." She paused then, to give it some thought. "Well, I'm sure his leaving isn't helping." She shrugged, wishing she was in her car, driving home with the stereo blasting.
"Is that why you came late?" He asked. There was something in his voice that made her focus on him. He looked like he wasn't too sure he wanted to hear her answer.
"No." She answered without really thinking. "I went to see Farmer's sentence carried out..."
"You went to Farmer's execution?" He exploded, and she could only watch his inexplicable reaction in surprise. "Why the hell would you do that?"
She stared at him, wondering why he was so upset over this.
"He asked me to." She gave him the only answer she'd been able to admit to herself.
"What?" His hotheadedness faltered at her response.
"You should've seen the look on his face when he asked me, Harm. He saw me as ..." She trailed off, shaking her head absently. "I don't know what he saw me as." She really didn't want to think about it. She wished she hadn't said anything to Harm. She fervently hoped he wouldn't push and prod.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He pushed and prodded.
She bit back a frustrated sigh. So much for that. "Need to know."
"Well, I guess I needed to know." From his sarcasm, she guessed he hadn't appreciated her tone.
She was so damn tired of all this emotional shit.
"Why would you need to know? Besides, I tried to talk to you but you were too busy wining and dining Renée."
"Too busy wining—" He stopped abruptly and shook his head in angered disbelief. "You were the one who was all getting all gooey-eyed with Brumby."
There was an accusation if she ever heard one. And totally unfounded. It galled her, and her anger overshadowed her despondent sadness.
"I was having dinner with a friend because my best friend didn't have time for me!" Mac threw back. She saw some JAG staff come out of the bar from the corner of her eye, and forced her voice down. "Dammit, I didn't want to spend all night thinking about..." She trailed off, not knowing how to explain it to him.
"What do you mean 'all night'?" She stared at him, unable to tell if he was insinuating something, or was genuinely curious.
She wanted to scream. She wasn't in the mood for this.
"Forget it, Harm. I don't even know why all of a sudden you care whom I have dinner with." This conversation had effectively sucked out what was left of her. She was exhausted, and just plain wanted to go home.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He kept pushing.
"I'm going home." She ended their circular verbal spar. "Goodnight."
"Don't walk away, Mac."
She stopped abruptly, and turned to face him, arms crossed. Might as well let him get in all his blows, otherwise it would just fester and leak into the office tomorrow. God knows that was the last thing she needed. She bit back a sigh, and patiently waited.
"What was that supposed to mean?" He repeated, his tone hard and confrontational.
"Nothing, Harm." She opted to placate. "I just, I guess I was disappointed. But I have no right to make those kinds of demands on your time, do I?" To her dismay and embarrassment, she sounded a lot more bitter and disappointed than she would've liked.
"Mac." His tone softened. The fight left his eyes.
"Forget it, Harm." She gave a rueful laugh, and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Chalk it up to the exhaustion. I didn't get much sleep last night."
She turned around, and headed towards her car.
"Goodnight, Harm." She threw over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"I do care."
She thought she'd misheard. She turned to look at him.
"What?" She studied his face under the cold winter moonlight, and the harsh glare of streetlamps.
"I do care, Mac." His expression was intent, almost desperate. What did he see when he looked at her like that? It was hypnotizing...
She shook herself out of the spell he was casting. "I know. That was out of line." She shrugged, apologetic. "Again. Chalk it up to exhaustion." He was still looking at her that way, and it was making her uneasy.
"We can talk about it tomorrow..." She suggested, not understanding what had come over him. And not exactly sure how she was reacting to it. Half of her wanted to run for cover, half of her wanted to kiss him until she forgot her own name. Chalk it up to exhaustion, she coached herself.
She cleared her throat, and looked away uncomfortably. "Goodnight, Harm."
"Will you be alright? Tonight?" He hadn't moved any closer to her, but the way he was looking at her and the way he sounded ... she fought the urge to take a step back, away from him.
She nodded, her voice lost. What was happening here...
"How about we have that dinner now?" He said, his voice as soft and quiet as the night around them.
She laughed because she didn't know what to do when he spoke to her with that voice and that look in his eyes. Though she was warmed all over that he'd asked. "Harm, it's after 2200..."
His expression was serious as he studied her. She saw something shift in his demeanour, and watched as he snapped out of his mood. He looked at the ground, then back at her. A slow smile spread on his face, breaking the intensity of the moment.
"There's a 24-hour diner just down the street." His eyes were warm and familiar. She let out a deep breath feeling more at ease. This Harm, she recognized.
"Really, Harm. I'm fine." She said easily, dissemblance borne of habit. "A good night's sleep ought to do the trick—"
She was cut off by his hand on her arm.
"Mac. You could've told me that you needed to talk." He told her, his characteristic concern evident.
She watched him for a moment, and then shrugged lightly. She hadn't meant to make him feel guilty or responsible. Then again, this was Harm she was talking about.
"It's no big deal, Harm. You have a life." If anything, she thought, she had to learn how to deal with her problems on her own. It occurred to her that she always sought Harm out, expecting him to be available. Experience told her that couldn't be possible. And now, if he was looking to date the video director ... She was just expecting too damn much.
"I always have time for you, Mac."
Except when he was busy with another woman she thought, her eyebrow raised in amused scepticism. She wondered if he really believed what he was saying. Probably. Harm was nothing if not sincere. She was going to have to re-adjust to him dating someone new. It would mean fewer working dinners, and even fewer platonic just-friends dinners. She couldn't stomach the thought of playing supportive best friend with him while he went through the trials and tribulations of a romantic relationship with some woman. And they still hadn't found their footing after his departure and return to JAG.
"Mac?" His voice broke through her thoughts.
"I know you do, Harm." She shook herself back to reality. Suck it up Marine. "And I appreciate it. Thanks."
"C'mon. Let me buy you dinner." He cajoled pleasantly.
"Harm..." She trailed off, wondering at herself. She felt hurt when he didn't have time for her, and when he offered she turned him down. But tonight she really did just want to be alone and wallow. Seeing the look in Farmer's eyes when they'd strapped him in ... Add Harm's new love interest and Mic's return to Australia just when she was warming into a friendship with him...
"Not tonight, Harm." She gave him a reassuring nod. "A hot bath and a long sleep are calling my name. I'll see you tomorrow."
She headed towards her car without looking at him, unable to decide if she regretted turning down his offer.
--
Harm entered the bullpen at a quick clip, briefcase in hand and cover tucked under his arm. He headed straight for his office, trying to pull himself out of his foul mood. He'd tossed and turned most of last night, kept awake by lingering feelings of guilt. And it annoyed the hell out of him. If Mac wanted to talk, to vent, all she had to do was seek him out and just say so. He would have made time if he'd known it was that damn important. Sure, dinner with Renée had been fun, but
she was hardly worth the disappointment in Mac's eyes as she'd looked at him in the parking lot last night. It was this very thought that had kept him awake last night. He had a life – she'd said it herself. Why should he feel guilty.
And, worse still, to lose a night's sleep because he'd let Mac down...
He looked towards Mac's office, and saw her working diligently at her desk, her door closed. He stopped to watch her for a moment. She usually kept her door open in the mornings. A smug vindication starched his spine. A hot bath and a long sleep obviously hadn't done the trick.
She should've had dinner with him.
But no. She had to be so damn stubborn sometimes, with her ridiculous impregnable armour in place. He renewed his trek to his office, feeling better than he had since last night, when he'd watched her walk to her car without a backwards glance. Maybe he could get her to talk later today; she might just be more amenable to it.
But first: coffee.
Harm deposited his briefcase and cover in his office, and made his way to the break room. There, he encountered Bud who was staring intently into his cup of coffee.
"Morning, Bud." Harm greeted pleasantly.
"Oh," Bud, startled out of his reverie, looked up abruptly. "Good morning, Sir."
"Everything alright?" Harm asked, as he pulled out a mug from the cupboard.
"Um," Bud fumbled, "Yes, Sir."
Harm raised an eyebrow and studied the junior officer. Something was definitely up. He looked worried.
"Out with it, Bud." He said, not really in the mood to beat around the bush.
"Well, Sir, I shouldn't ... I mean..."
"Bud," Harm warned, exasperated.
"It's the Colonel, Sir. She's, well, she looks ... sad." He finally said.
Harm poured coffee into his mug, marvelling at Bud's capacity for empathy. Even though the man could be clueless at times, no one could fault that his heart was in the right place.
"I guess she's taking Commander Brumby's leaving hard." Bud completed his thought.
Very clueless, Harm decided. His foul mood returned as he remembered the conversation in the parking lot last night.
"I'm sure that's it." He said dryly. He slam the carafe back on the heating pad with more force than necessary, and went back to his office, closing the door forcefully behind him.
About an hour later, Harm had finally set aside his ill-will towards Mac and Brumby, and was just immersing himself in his work when a light knock sounded on his door. He bit his tongue and counted to ten.
"Enter." He called curtly.
The door hesitantly opened, and Mac poked her head in.
"Um, hi." She greeted tentatively.
Harm turned his attention back to his work. "I'm really busy today."
There was a heavy silence from her, but he kept his pen to the pad in front of him, refusing to look up.
"Have you completed the report the admiral requested of you?" The tentativeness in her tone was replaced with a hard edge. Another ten steps backwards, Harm thought.
"It's due end of day. You'll have it by then." He replied, still not looking up. He made to sure to sound mildly annoyed by her nagging. In truth, he'd actually finished the report yesterday.
"See that I do." She returned, her sharp annoyance matching his. She turned on her heel and exited his office, leaving his door open.
Harm scowled as he watched her walk away. Round two was going to be his.
--
Hours later, after conceding that mounting a defence for the case in front of him was something of a challenge, Harm entered the JAG law library. He headed straight for the shelf that held the tome he needed. To his dismay, once he turned into the aisle he saw Mac standing there, flipping the pages in a large volume.
She looked up once she sensed his presence, and tensed noticeably, as though readying herself for battle. Harm pretended to ignore the sudden change in her stance that had been precipitated solely by his arrival.
To his annoyance, he found that she was perusing the exact book he had come for. He heaved an impatient sigh, and leaned against the shelves of books, tapping his foot as he waited.
"Do you mind?" She ground out, visibly aggravated.
He stopped tapping his foot, and returned her hard stare.
She rolled her eyes, slammed the book shut and shoved it at him.
"Just take it." She took the first swing.
"What, you don't need it." He jabbed back.
"You obviously don't care that I do." She parried.
That was the last straw. He was convinced that was some veiled reference to last night, and his dinner with Renee the night before.
"And you wouldn't know what you needed if it wore neon lights and painted a target sign on its back." He took another stab.
"And presuming to know what I need is a great pastime for you, isn't it." She rejoined, aiming for his gut.
"Please." He scoffed. How dare she question his intentions. Now, all gloves were off. "No one on this planet knows what the hell you need. And if anyone did, you'd never acknowledge it."
She glared at him, silenced. He could see the resentment and anger glint harshly in her eyes. He took advantage of having the upper hand, while it lasted, not stopping to think.
"You'd just choose to be alone, and then hide behind your helplessness." It occurred to him after he said it, that he'd aimed right for the jugular. From the look in her eyes, he hadn't missed. Immediately, he wanted to backpedal, to turn back the clock. Pointing out Mac's weaknesses was probably the worst thing he could possibly have done. Damn it.
"Mac..." He tried to find a way to apologize, without conceding defeat.
"Save it, Rabb." She raised a hand to head him off at the pass. "I think you've already made your point clear." She angrily strode past him, and out of the room.
Damn it.
--
Later that night...
Harm knocked on Mac's apartment door, and waited for her to answer. He'd come to make amends for his behaviour. Admittedly, she was as much to blame as him, but he'd be damned if he spent another sleepless night because all he could see was the look on her face before she left the law library.
He heard the soft patter of footsteps, then the light coming through her peephole was obscured. He counted five seconds of hesitation on her part before her door was tentatively pulled open.
"Harm." Her tone and expression were guarded. "Come in."
She stepped aside to let him enter. He walked in slowly, and hung his coat with a measured deliberation, trying to buy time.
"About earlier..." He trailed off, looked from her to her couch to the floor.
She sighed, and he knew she was going to let him off the hook.
"We were both pretty nasty." She conceded with a tired resignation.
He studied her face. It was then he realized that she wasn't letting him off the hook; she was trying to avoid talking about it with him.
"Um, what?" She said, made uncomfortable by his scrutinizing gaze.
"Why are you pushing me away?" He asked slowly, with utmost sincerity.
"Why are you pushing me?" She shot back, her defensive mechanism fully kicked in.
He heaved a frustrated sigh. She was so damn difficult to talk to sometimes.
"We need to talk." He tried again. "There's been some tension."
"Christ, Harm." She exclaimed, frustrated. "It's like there's always tension these days."
"Do you ever wonder why?" He thought he might be getting through to her, so he softened his tone.
"Of course I do." She crossed her arms. He recognized it as a defensive posture.
"And what conclusions do you reach?" An answer formed in his mind, even as the question formed on his tongue.
She looked away, not making eye contact with him. He watched her as she stared at the floor, trying to find a way to avoid answering him. If anything, it confirmed his answer, although he didn't know if this was a good thing or not. But he was surprised by his instinctive reaction to her discomfort, and to how it validated his suspicions. Part of him wanted to run for cover, the rest of him wanted to kiss her until he forgot his own name. It was disconcerting.
"Mac?" He prodded.
She sighed heavily, looking more reluctant than he'd seen her in awhile. Her arms fell to her side.
"Maybe we should just skip this conversation," She offered half-heartedly, "And ask the Admiral to reassign us to a war zone. The tension always goes away when our lives are threatened."
He couldn't keep from laughing at her reply. "I'm sure he'd love that: the ultimate trust-building exercise."
She sobered at his response. "You know I trust you, Harm."
His laughter faded as they faced each other across her living room. He nodded. "I know. You trust me with your life."
She seemed relieved at hearing his words. But her relief was replaced with nervous caution as he stepped closer to her. He reached out a hand, and tapped her on the chest, just below her collarbone.
"But not with your heart."
"Harm..." She trailed off uncertainly. He could see in her eyes that she was struggling not to step away from him. She swallowed, and looked him in the eye. "Like I said last night, I can't make those kinds of demands..."
She faltered as she looked at him, and he realized that his response to her words must have been clear on his face. Just as suddenly, she regrouped. The resolve in her stance cut through him, which in itself was troubling. He didn't think he was quite ready to face his jumble of feelings for her.
"And it doesn't matter anyways." She stated, "You're seeing someone."
"What?" That startled him. Apparently, he was dating without even knowing it. "Who?"
"The video director." She stated as though it was a categorical fact.
"What?" He exclaimed, frowning. And she accused him of jumping to conclusions. "Why the hell would you think that?"
"You had dinner with her." She crossed her arms and tapped her foot in a gesture he recognized: she was in debate mode.
"You had dinner with Brumby." He put his hands on his hips, sliding into debate mode himself.
"That's different." She tapped her foot again, just to make clear her impatience with his rebuttal. "I've known him for a long time, worked with him, and he offered a friendly ear."
He frowned at that. Friendly ear.
"Mac." His tone mirroring her impatience. He stopped himself, and decided to try a different track. Deep down, she had to know him better than that. "Do you really see me having a long term relationship with a woman like Renée?"
Mac shrugged. He could see her cautious distrust surface again, as it did when it came to matters of the heart. He tried to clarify, to prove his point.
"When I was doing the video dubbing, she wanted me to say that it was an honour and a pleasure to serve in the Navy."
"It's not a pleasure, it's a privilege." Mac immediately replied, frowning in confusion. After the briefest of pauses, she amended. "Well, it is a pleasure. But it's a privilege." She shook her head at his amused grin. "You know what I mean."
Harm laughed. Now he definitely wanted to kiss her until he forgot his own name.
"That's what I said." He said instead, still smiling.
"C'mon," He said, once he realized she wasn't going to resume their talk. "We should talk about this."
She dropped her gaze, absently toeing a groove in the hardwood floor.
He wished she would say something first. He wasn't ready for this talk. But did he really want to put this off? Ignore it? After today, he wasn't sure it was the best idea. The way he'd sniped at her today was unforgivable, even if he hated it when she locked him out. And he wanted to hear from her why she'd been so impatient with him.
"I'll start." He finally said.
Her head shot up at that, her face presenting a textbook illustration of shock. He cleared his throat, more nervous than he'd admit to being.
"I, ah, didn't like that you had dinner with Brumby." It was a very difficult admission to make. He thought it cost him at least two years of his lifespan.
She studied his face thoughtfully for long moments, then looked away. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the anxiety in her eyes.
"I don't want you to date Renée." She said. There was a slight tremble in her voice.
Her words caused an indescribable rush. He rode the momentum.
"I don't like seeing you sad. Ever." He took a step towards her.
To his dismay, she looked like she was about to cry.
"Mac?" He questioned, alarmed.
She shook her head briskly, blinked away the tears once, and then twice.
"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." She mumbled, her voice thick.
"Mac." The depth of her reaction surprised him, and made his heart heavy. He was just being honest, stating a truth. He took another step closer to her, and cupped her face in his hands. "No tears, not for that."
She nodded slowly, and grasped his wrist with both her hands.
"Okay," she took a calming breath. "Chalk it up to exhaustion." She whispered.
He shook his head, smiling at her uncharacteristic display of emotion. He wouldn't tell her, but when he saw this side of her, he wanted nothing more than to wrap himself around her and shield her from the world.
"Not this time, Marine." He'd come here to talk, after all.
She closed her eyes, her thumb slowly caressing his wrist. That slight touch sent a thrill through him.
"What do we do now?" She looked up at him.
"Have dinner with me." After he said it, he realized it sounded more like an order than a request.
She raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Yes, Sir." She teased.
He leaned forward, and touched his lips to her forehead.
"Have dinner with me, Mac, tonight, every night." He whispered into her skin. "We can take it from there, test the waters."
She nodded, resting her forehead against his chin.
He slipped one arm around her shoulders, the other nudged her chin. She looked up at him, frowning slightly in question. She had the most expressive eyes, he thought, eyes that always held a measured sadness.
He lowered his head and she raised hers, their lips meeting in a kiss. It was slow and tentative and absolutely perfect.
He pulled back reluctantly, and the look of soft wonder on her face made him feel ten feet tall.
"Just dipping my toes in." He bit the inside of his lip to keep his smile from bursting.
She laughed, the sadness in her eyes retreated further back than he thought he'd ever seen. "So..." One eyebrow arched in playful curiosity, her palms slowly rubbed his chest. "How's the water?"
"Perfect." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close, nuzzling into her hair. "Perfect for a long swim."
--
End.