Title: Just a moment.
Summery: Harm finds Mac trapped in a room with a bomb. (5 minute babble)
Content warning: Character death
Pairing: H/M (who else?)
A/N: All right, no thrown tomatoes for this fic okay? It's my first attempt at JAG fan fic, I've only recently gotten into the show. This story came from a weird dream I had, and please review! (Even if it is to tell me I'm strange)
~**~**~**~
"Mac?" Harmon Rabb banged on the door to his partners apartment, his brow creasing with worry lines. The Marine Lieutenant Colonel had failed to show up at the JAG office earlier that day, and even though rounding up the officers generally fell to Lieutenant Robberts, Harm had taken the job, hoping to have a talk with her before they returned to work.
"Harm?!"
He heard her voice, muffled through the door and full of relief.
"Harm! There's a bomb!"
Harm's eyes widened in surprise, then fumbled in his pants for her keys he always carried with him, "What's the count?!" He called to her, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.
"3 minutes!"
Harm swore under his breath, pushing her door open. Mac sat on the floor just outside of her kitchen, handcuffed to one of the support polls. Her left eye was black and bruised, and a gash ran down her cheek, which was still bleeding heavily. Harm moved to her side, and her head whipped around when he lay his hand on her shoulder, "You okay?" he breathed in her ear, already judging how sturdy the support poll was. He couldn't disarm the bomb, so he didn't bother looking for it. He just had to get her out of there.
"Harm, I can't see." Mac tugged on the handcuffs, jarring her already bruised wrists, "How bad is it?"
Harm didn't want to answer. Dug deep into cement and tiles, the poll was going nowhere. She was stuck. And his silenced answered her question better then words.
"Go." She told him sharply, "There's no point in both of us dying."
"I'm not gonna leave you Mac." Harm said with absolute conviction, as he tried to pry the poll loose. "And your not gonna die." He pulled all his weight on it, grunting with the effort.
"2 mintues." Mac said softly.
Harm gave up on the poll, and crouched next to his partner, "I won't leave." He took her face in his hands, noticing tears that threaten to spill. The cool and collective officer was not afraid of death, but to die with so many regrets, and to drag one of the best lawyers the Navy had with her, was too much to bear.
"Harm." Her voice carried the conviction she didn't feel, "Go dammit!" She didn't want to die alone.
Harm gathered her in his arm, holding her tight against him as her resolved slipped.
"Go." She whispered against his ear, not ever wanting him to let go.
Harm pulled away gently as the seconds ticked by, and drank in the sight of her beauty. "I love you." He mouthed the words, their eyes locked, then gently, softly he titled her head back and kissed her soft lips. Mac responded to the tender kiss, then their years of hidden love came tumbling out to turn it into fiery passion. Hungry for him, for something she had denied herself for many years, Mac never broke contact, even as the bomb exploded.
~**~**~**~
R&R… drabble thou it is.
Summery: Harm finds Mac trapped in a room with a bomb. (5 minute babble)
Content warning: Character death
Pairing: H/M (who else?)
A/N: All right, no thrown tomatoes for this fic okay? It's my first attempt at JAG fan fic, I've only recently gotten into the show. This story came from a weird dream I had, and please review! (Even if it is to tell me I'm strange)
~**~**~**~
"Mac?" Harmon Rabb banged on the door to his partners apartment, his brow creasing with worry lines. The Marine Lieutenant Colonel had failed to show up at the JAG office earlier that day, and even though rounding up the officers generally fell to Lieutenant Robberts, Harm had taken the job, hoping to have a talk with her before they returned to work.
"Harm?!"
He heard her voice, muffled through the door and full of relief.
"Harm! There's a bomb!"
Harm's eyes widened in surprise, then fumbled in his pants for her keys he always carried with him, "What's the count?!" He called to her, hoping he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.
"3 minutes!"
Harm swore under his breath, pushing her door open. Mac sat on the floor just outside of her kitchen, handcuffed to one of the support polls. Her left eye was black and bruised, and a gash ran down her cheek, which was still bleeding heavily. Harm moved to her side, and her head whipped around when he lay his hand on her shoulder, "You okay?" he breathed in her ear, already judging how sturdy the support poll was. He couldn't disarm the bomb, so he didn't bother looking for it. He just had to get her out of there.
"Harm, I can't see." Mac tugged on the handcuffs, jarring her already bruised wrists, "How bad is it?"
Harm didn't want to answer. Dug deep into cement and tiles, the poll was going nowhere. She was stuck. And his silenced answered her question better then words.
"Go." She told him sharply, "There's no point in both of us dying."
"I'm not gonna leave you Mac." Harm said with absolute conviction, as he tried to pry the poll loose. "And your not gonna die." He pulled all his weight on it, grunting with the effort.
"2 mintues." Mac said softly.
Harm gave up on the poll, and crouched next to his partner, "I won't leave." He took her face in his hands, noticing tears that threaten to spill. The cool and collective officer was not afraid of death, but to die with so many regrets, and to drag one of the best lawyers the Navy had with her, was too much to bear.
"Harm." Her voice carried the conviction she didn't feel, "Go dammit!" She didn't want to die alone.
Harm gathered her in his arm, holding her tight against him as her resolved slipped.
"Go." She whispered against his ear, not ever wanting him to let go.
Harm pulled away gently as the seconds ticked by, and drank in the sight of her beauty. "I love you." He mouthed the words, their eyes locked, then gently, softly he titled her head back and kissed her soft lips. Mac responded to the tender kiss, then their years of hidden love came tumbling out to turn it into fiery passion. Hungry for him, for something she had denied herself for many years, Mac never broke contact, even as the bomb exploded.
~**~**~**~
R&R… drabble thou it is.