The Whole of the Sense by doc
AN: This story was written in response to a challenge. We were instructed to use the following phrases from the episode 'Lifeline'. The challenges lines were as follows: 'You were unbelievably rude.' … 'I was rude? You compared me to a bilge pump.' … 'Bilge switch. And you deserved it.'
Try as I might, I couldn't think of anything funny to write with the challenge lines. I finally decided on this topic…actually, I'd pondered posting this topic one of the message boards for the last month or so, ever since I made this wonderful loaf of pumpkin bread…free time and vacation can send your mind in such peculiar directions. Anyway, I was wondering about the need to hear the words 'I Love You.' I think each and every one of us has an inherent need and desire to hear, feel and experience the emotion of those words. Children who never experience love become emotional and mental cripples. So, why would anyone begrudge a person the need to feel all aspects of that emotion? Ah, there in lies the question! And what does love have to do pumpkin bread you ask…it's all in the senses.
This story takes place during Season 9, some time around 'The Boast' and 'Pulse Rate', but before 'A Merry Little Christmas.' Mac makes tentative steps to repair a treasured friendship and maybe something more. In my universe, Webb is nothing but a casual friend who shared a harrowing experience, and while Harm may be Mattie's handsome guardian angel, he's not her legal guardian.
Special thanks to Mom, my faithful finder and keeper of all things related to spelling and grammar.
Disclaimer: I don't own JAG or any of the characters. I just take them out and play with them on occasion before replacing them safe and sound back on the shelf.
The Whole of the Sense
Part 1 of 2 parts
December 2003
JAG HQ
Falls Church, Virginia
Mac paced outside the closed door warring with herself over whether to offer the invitation. Since he'd returned to JAG, they'd made a peace of sorts…well, maybe not peace, but they'd managed to avoid the landmines of late. Standing firm before the solid structure, she closed her eyes and inhaled a deep calming breath. Exhaling slowly, she briskly rapped on the door.
"Enter," was the terse reply.
Swallowing the nerves, which told her to flee with her skin intact, she slowly opened the door and peeked around the side. "Mind if I come in?"
Harm shrugged with a sigh, "For a minute I guess, I'm due in court in five."
Flashing him an apologetic smile, she moved cautiously into the room. Running a finger over the back of the visitor's chair in front of his desk, she glanced at him threw through hooded eyes.
"Mac, I told you…I only have a minute. What do you need?" He stood up to retrieve the files from atop his desk and dropped them into his briefcase.
She chewed on her bottom lip, wondering for the hundredth time how they'd gotten to this place. When he impatiently quirked his brow upwards in question, she relented, "I was wondering if you had plans this Friday night?"
He regarded her with wariness, "Why?"
"I have this formal charity event to attend…I thought you might like to go?" she tipped her head to the side and begged acceptance with her eyes.
He shook his head and wrinkled his nose, "I don't think so, Mac. I'm not really in the mood to get dressed up and spend the evening with a bunch of stodgy old Washington-types."
"It's not like that, Harm. I attended the event last year; it was inspiring and fun. I promise you've never been to anything like this before…it's original…and besides it's for the kids."
He frowned in response, "What kids?"
She saw her opening and jumped, "My friend Lizzy runs a school for disabled children. This holiday charity event is her big fundraiser to elicit donations for the year. It gives the rest of us 'normal folks'," she gestured with her fingers, "…a chance to experience what life is like for her kids. The whole arts community gets behind it."
"And how exactly do we 'experience' what life is like for these kids?" He made no attempt to hide his unease.
"Well," she continued nervously, "…each couple acts as a pair…a single unit so to speak. One of them is the guide…the eyes and ears of the pair…and the other gets to experience the disabilities or losses that these children live with each and every day."
"I see," he smirked, "…let me guess…I get to be disabled."
She visibly swallowed, "It doesn't really matter I guess. It's just that I've already experienced that perspective in years past. I thought this time you might like to…."
"Be at your mercy, as it were…once again?" his brow quirked upwards as his words hit their mark.
She recoiled to the hurt, drawing her arms tightly to her chest, "Look if you really don't wanna go it's OK. I'm sure I can find someone else, maybe…."
"Webb! I'm sure your boyfriend would prefer you didn't spend the evening with me anyway…that is if he's even in town." He slammed the briefcase shut and headed toward the door.
"He's not my…oh, never mind, I'll ask Harriet…and you don't have to be so rude. A simple no would've sufficed," her voice took on an edge of its own.
"I'm rude?" he huffed.
"You're being unbelievably rude, but that seems to be your M.O. of late. If you're not throwing my weaknesses at me in court then you're…" her hands flapped feebly at her sides at a loss for words.
"I think we've had this conversation before…something about turning it off and on. What…are you going to compare me to a bilge pump now?"
"It was a bilge switch and you deserved it; although back then, you were the one who was able to separate work issues from personal. Now it feels like it's all personal…I just wanted…."
He turned on her, "What Mac? Wanted what…I can't just turn it off and on anymore, so you'll have to tell me what it is you want."
"My best friend," was mumbled in a hushed tone.
"What," he stepped closer in order to hear.
"I said, I want my best friend back," she whispered head bowed, eyes never leaving the floor.
He reached out with his index finger and lifted her chin, "After all that's happened, I don't know if I can fill that role anymore."
He watched as a tear meandered its way down her cheek. She nodded her head and pulled away. Just as she gripped the handle on the door, he reached for her arm halting her progress. "What time?" was the quiet reply.
She turned back around confused, "What?"
He flashed her a slight smile in acknowledgement, "Friday night…what time?"
"But you said…."
"I know," his hand slid down from her elbow to grasp her fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze, "…I changed my mind. It's the prerogative of us bilge switches." The corners of his mouth tugged up in a teasing smile, "What time?"
Her eyes sparkled with a long repressed twinkle, "Pick me up at 18:30?"
He nodded and released her hand to open the office door. Stepping aside to allow her to exit first, he called out, "Black tie?"
She turned around and tipping her head, graced him one of those smiles that he thought he'd never see again in his lifetime, "No…a nice suit and tie will do. Thanks Harm."
"Any time, Marine," he winked.
As she watched his retreating form, she felt a spark of hope ignite in her heart once again. Maybe…just maybe, they could find their way back.
Friday Night
Somewhere in Downtown D.C.
Harm glanced toward the passenger seat as they idled in line waiting for valet parking. Mac was staring out the window, a fanciful childlike grin on her face, as she enjoyed the Christmas decorations outside the gallery. His breath hitched in his chest at the sight. It had been so long since they'd been out together, just the two of them. And he couldn't remember the last time they'd attended a formal event, she was a vision dressed in black velvet and silk. Her dress was understated and classic in its design, but on Mac, a dress looked anything but simple. Her hair floated just above her shoulders in soft curls and waves, a few radiant strands pinned back from her face with tiny sparkling gems. He mused that the gemstones looked as if an errant snowflake or two had landed among the dark curls and decided to spend the night close to her warmth. His fingers twitched at his sides aching to slide through the silken tresses. Just as his right hand rose of its own accord and threatened to betray him, a knock at the driver's side window shattered the silent spell of the moment.
"Sir, did you want me to park the car?"
"Whaaat," he cleared his throat, "…ah yes, that would be fine…thank you."
He opened his door and dropped the keys into the waiting palm. Walking around to the passenger side, he opened the door and extended his hand in invitation. Mac smiled at the gentlemanly gesture and placed her hand into his. Sliding gracefully from the SUV, she was quickly gathered to his side as he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm.
They entered the grand foyer of the gallery and were immediately welcomed by their host, Elizabeth Farrington, "Sarah, what a pleasure to see you this evening. Thank you so much for coming."
Mac smiled at her friend, "Good evening, Lizzy. I'd like to introduce a friend and colleague of mine, Harmon Rabb."
Harm extended his hand to the petite woman, "It's nice to meet you, Elizabeth. Mac has told me so much about your school. It must be very rewarding to spend time with your students."
Liz returned a firm handshake and smiled, "It's nice to finally meet Sarah's sailor, and please call me Lizzy."
He graced her with a warm smile, "Well in that case, I'm Harm. So how exactly does this evening work? Mac said that I get to be the guinea pig for tonight's activities."
Lizzy chuckled, "I would have to agree with Sarah. She's already been on the receiving end of this little experiment when she attended with her little sister, Chloe. Our hope is that by the end of the night each of our guests will have a little deeper appreciation for what our small students live with every day of their lives. We've set up various stations throughout the gallery that restrict the use of one of your senses…for example, hearing or sight. Sarah will act as your eyes and ears, so to speak, for the evening. It's her responsibility to replace that missing deficit in one form or another whenever it's appropriate."
He nodded in understanding, "In other words, I'm at her mercy this evening," he replied with a laugh.
"That's one way to put it," Lizzy raised a brow.
Mac playfully slapped his arm, "That's enough, Sailor…surely you trust me?"
His expression sobered, "With my life."
She stared back with sincerity trying to squelch her inner turmoil at the unfinished phrase. Her mind automatically completing the unvoiced clause 'just not my heart.' Patting his forearm sadly, she tugged him forward and responded in subdued tones, "Should we get started?"
"Sure, lead the way."
Lizzy pointed them toward a door, "Sarah, why don't you and Harm start in the tasting room." As Mac passed by, Lizzy leaned in to whisper in her ear, "I can see why you think he's special."
Mac glanced at Harm to ensure he didn't overhear and then whispered back to her friend, "Yes, he is."
Harm started towards the door, "So Mac, how do you know Lizzy?"
"Chloe and I met her through the Big Sister-Little Sister program. Chloe and I use to volunteer at the school for special events before she moved to Vermont. This holiday fundraiser is a relatively new idea. Chloe and I attended the last couple of years, but this year she was too busy with school projects to come to D.C."
He rested his hand over his heart feigning hurt, "You mean to tell me that I was your second choice?"
She shook her head, "Of course not…I would have asked you before if you'd been available. It seemed like you were always away on an investigation in previous years."
"I'm just kidding, Mac. I'm honored that you asked me to attend. This should be enlightening."
Continued in Part 2