Title: Moonlit Complexion

Author: Arian

Spoilers: This is a follow-up piece to "The Sixth Juror," see below.

Disclaimers: I don't own JAG. It is in fact IMPOSSIBLE for me to own JAG, because someone at Paramount still hasn't released it on DVD. I do however have one hell of a collection of VHS tapes.

A/N: Someone once said "desperation breeds creativity." No? Maybe that was just me. Anyway, this popped into my head right after yet another episode that left us with no shippery happiness. After checking the boards for a full 24 hours for someone to give us post-6th Juror completion, I figured out I was just going to have to do it myself. I'm tired of our favorite pair being so damn serious about everything, and this is the result of a lot of frustration!!!! Some may call it fluff, I call it release!

2219 EST

Boca Chica, Key West

Florida

Mac slowly pulled the brush through her hair, pondering the twists the case had taken. Throughout the case she had felt there was a piece of the puzzle missing, and had to give Harm a lot of credit for having Bud break the code in the victim's "little black book." Commander Pulone's actions in the courtroom had given no clue to his deep involvement in the case, and without Bud's timely breakthrough, he would have gotten away with murder. Mac shook her head at the possibility, and then chuckled a bit. She had to give Jen some of the credit also, because without her snooping around and getting herself into trouble, the case may have proceeded more quickly and potentially put the wrong man behind bars. Harm had been presenting a solid case, but with only a four member panel, the outcome would have been unpredictable at best. She didn't doubt that Commander Pulone would have done whatever possible to push the trial to conclusion, that much was evident from his dismissal of the idea of a mistrial after Jen's interference.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts, and she crossed the small room to peer through the peephole. A bit surprised to see who her guest was, she straightened her summer skirt before opening the door.

"Harm?" Like her, he had changed out of uniform and stood outside in a light weight button down shirt and khakis.

"Hey. Wasn't sure if you were done packing up yet." Harm shuffled his loafers on the floor of the hallway, looking down and then back up at her in uncertainty.

"What I can tonight. I'll just have a couple of things to toss in tomorrow morning. Did we get moved to an earlier flight?" Mac had no real idea why they were talking about the state of her sea bag, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear in confusion.

"Uhm, no, I just didn't want to bother you if you were busy." Realizing suddenly that he was being typically cryptic, Harm smiled a bit. Before Mac could get frustrated with his evasion, he finally gave her a straight answer. "Actually I was wondering if you wanted to go to the beach?"

She furrowed her brow in confusion. "It's after 2200, Harm."

He grinned. "I know. The General warned us to come home with the same pasty complexion we left with, and I don't think the full moon out there will threaten that too much."

Chuckling at his reference to the General's admonition, she nodded her head. "Probably not. Sure, let me grab my shoes." Leaving the door behind her open, she quickly dug through her bag. After sliding her feet into a pair of white sandals, she turned around to find Harm staring at her, hands tucked self-consciously into his pockets. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just glad we'll be able to get some fresh air before heading back to the great white north." Smiling he held the door open for her and started down the sidewalk.

"Have you talked to Bud again since he broke the case?" Mac took a deep breath of the sultry air, thankful again that the General had been feeling generous when assigning them the case.

"Yeah, I called him when we got back here. Seems that the General walked in on him breaking the code on the computer."

"Oh no. The General hasn't been around long enough to realize how much we rely on each other for case backup." Mac winced at the thought of Bud standing up to Cresswell's ire.

"Oh that's not the half of it. Seems the General was giving Bud enough rope to hang himself with, and was tolerating his attention to the case. The thing is, the General apparently thought Bud was neglecting the case reviews assigned to him. When he pointedly told Bud to return his attention to the cases, and Bud informed him that they had already been completed, the General said that apparently he wasn't giving our newest Commander enough to do."

"Oh no!" Mac joined in Harm's laughter. No matter his rank, Bud always got himself into the damnedest situations. "As if the 'anger management' therapy wasn't enough!"

Chuckling to themselves, they reached the beach nearby and stopped to remove their shoes. While Mac sat on the wooden walkway to undo the buckles on her sandals, Harm slipped his loafers off and stepped into the soft sand. Rather than carry their shoes with them, he knelt to hide them underneath the boardwalk, and silently took Mac's from her as she removed them. Holding out a hand to help her up from the step, he was surprised when she didn't let go after gaining her balance in the sand.

Giving him a small smile, Mac took a step toward the shoreline. The moonlight reflected off the waves as they lapped at the shore, and a warm breeze fluttered the hem of her skirt against her legs. Music from a nearby nightspot drifted across the beach and after concentrating on the sound for a moment, Mac suddenly burst out laughing.

"What's so funny Marine?" While their relationship was finally mended, it was still rare to hear her laugh from deep inside, and he grinned.

"Listen to the music." Smiling she watched as he listened carefully and then laughed again as he caught the refrain, "wastin away in Margaritaville."

Harm chuckled, "Remember, I promised to hold the salt."

Mac rolled her eyes and the surprised him by singing along with the music. "I don't know the reason, I stayed here all season, Nothin' to show but this brand new tattoo. But it's a real beauty, a Mexican cutie, How it got here I haven't a clue..."

"Speaking of tattoos..." Harm grinned, but Mac cut him off by swinging their hands between them and belting out, "Wastin away again in Margaritaville, searchin' for my lost shaker of salt. Some people claim that there's a SAILOR to blame. Now I think, it could be my fault."

"Hey, that's not the words!" Harm laughed at her lyrics, but more at her change in mood. Suddenly she let go of his hand, lifted both arms out to the side and spun around in the sand with her face raised to the sky.

"Come on Harm. It's WARM. For the first time in over a year I feel really alive. We've been working on this case non-stop for days, and we have about ten hours until we have to go back to the cold, grey, gross winter." Grinning outrageously, she held out both arms out to the side and fell straight back into the sand giggling.

Not completely sure what had caused such a change in her, he slowly walked over and looked down at her. This random giddiness was so dramatically different from her personality for the last several years that he was quite honestly bewildered.

Lying with her eyes closed, Mac could feel him standing over her. She was tired of analyzing everything, tired of feeling old, tired of worrying about everything on the planet. For just one night she was determined to forget about all of the bad things in her life and just enjoy the warm air, salt breeze and brilliant moonlight. She opened her eyes to see Harm silouhetted by the moonlight. "Excuse me sir, but you're standing in my light. You'll ruin my tan."

"Mac, what's going on?" He smiled indulgently, but had gotten so used to being careful with her that he wasn't sure what to do. The real him wanted to go order himself a beer, bring her a tonic water with lime and sit on the beach until the sunrise, however he had been holding back for so long it had become second nature.

Mac braced herself up on her arms and wriggled her toes in the sand. "Well Commander Reserved, I do believe it's called having a good time. I do realize that it's been a while since we've tried it, but there's no time like the present, is there?" She raised one hand as if asking him to help her up, but once he had given his hand, she yanked hard on his arm and tumbled him into the sand.

Rolling onto her side, she looked into his eyes. "Harm, I'm tired. I'm tired of being upset, and of worrying about my health and of trying to act the right way all the time. I'm tired of weighing you down with all of my baggage, with all of my problems and shitty attitudes."

"Mac..."

"I'm not beating myself up Harm. I'm tired of that too. I just want to be me again. The me that loves walking on the beach without worrying if I'll cut my toes on a sharp shell. The me that sings out loud without wondering if I'm off key. The me that can spin around in the sand until I'm ready to puke because it's a wonderful night. The me that can just let go."

Harm smiled at her as she flopped back down to stare at the stars. He realized that the person lying next to him on the beach really was the real Mac. The one who had been hiding behind pain, confusion and sarcasm for nearly two years. Realizing that his reserved attitude was hampering her happiness, he rolled over on his side.

Mac turned her head to look at him. The look in his eyes stole her breath away, and she could only lie trapped in his gaze as he sat up and leaned towards her. Slowly her eyes fluttered closed as she waited for him to kiss her. The moving hands at her sides were not what she expected, and she burst out in sudden laughter as he tickled her.

"Harm....that's....so....not....fair!!!" She gasped between laughs, and struggled to reach his sides to make a counter attack. His arms were longer than hers however, and he managed to stay out of her reach. Recognizing that she was quickly losing the battle, Mac braced her forearms against the ground and suddenly pushed up, rolling them both over in the sand and landing her on top of him.

Looking at her eyes as they widened with surprise, he grinned and firmly threw caution to the wind. "Now Mac, I know you said you wanted to be on top, but I thought you were speaking metaphorically." It was the first time either of them had brought up that fateful conversation in Paraguay, but it was time to let it go. She would either kill him or laugh, and either one was better than the status quo.

She quickly braced her hands on either side of his head and levered her upper body off him. Her mouth had fallen open in surprise at his comment, and he grinned up at her astonishment. Closing her mouth, she smirked. "I'm going to owe you for that one, squid."

Doing his best to look angelic, he asked "Owe me what, jarhead?"

He had finally given her the opening she had been waiting for. Staring deeply into his eyes, she lowered herself slowly, closer and closer to his lips. Within an inch of her goal she stopped and quirked an eyebrow at him, repaying him for the earlier tickling ambush. He made up the final inch himself.

Sliding her lips along his, Mac lowered her elbows into the sand and enjoyed tasting the ocean mist on his lips. It had been entirely too long since she had kissed Harm, and the electric shock it sent through her system warmed her all the way to her toes. Running the back of her fingers across his cheek she pulled back slowly and smiled.

Without opening his eyes, he smiled and said, "I'm going to have to make you owe me more often." With his mind made up he reached one arm under her knees, spun her around on his lap as he sat up and then gently sat her on the sand next to him. "Stay right here."

Mac looked at him in confusion as he stood up. "What?"

"I promise I will be right back. Don't let your over active imagination run away with you, I just need to go get something." With that he started jogging across the sand away from the shore.

Touching her fingers to her lips, she started to worry what was going on. 'Maybe this is too fast, maybe we should talk first.If I'm wrong I could push him completely away.' Realizing that she was doing exactly what Harm told her not to, she firmly silenced the doubts in the back of her head. Listening to the gentle lap of waves on the sand, she closed her eyes and let the sounds lull her into relaxation.

That was how Harm found her when he returned. He had taken a huge risk leaving her alone with her thoughts, but he had decided it was damn well time to let go and do what he really wanted to. Now walking across the sand to her, he drank in the beauty of the picture before him. She was once again leaning back against her arms, legs straight out in front of her, basking in the moonlight. There was no fear or doubt in her posture, only contentment and happiness.

Hearing his footsteps, she kept her eyes closed and said, "This was the best idea you've ever had."

"I can do you one better. Here." She looked up as he handed her a glass with tonic water and lime in it. Spreading out a beach towel he had apparently gotten from the same place as her drink, he sat down and patted the spot next to him.

Moving over, she clinked her glass against his in a toast and took a sip. "So what's the plan?"

Looking over at her, he smiled. "Don't really have one. I've heard there's a sunrise in about eight hours, and was thinking there's no one I'd rather see it with more."

Putting her arm around his waist, and feeling him settle his arm over her shoulders, she smiled. "I love the way you think."

A/N: Thank you to Jimmy Buffet for taking us all to Margaritaville once in a while.