Just This Side of Never by doc
AN: This is my answer to the May 2007 HBX Challenge.
Real life has been crazy of late. Between packing, moving, unpacking and work, there hasn't been much time to sit down. In those rare moments of silence, I'm generally too tired to move. I wasn't sure I'd get around to this month's challenge, but inspiration struck in one of those rare moments of lucidity and this is what evolved. I hope it makes sense and isn't just the ramblings of a befuddled mind?
This story takes place in the latter half of season 8, during the episode 'Lawyers, Guns and Money.' Harm has just been released from prison, and Mac arrives at his apartment to check on him. She also drops the bombshell that she's about to leave town on a CIA mission with Webb.
Before anyone complains that I made Harm look weak, I was impressed by how lost and sad he looked at the end of that scene. With his imprisonment and trial, he'd been through so much at that point. And when Mac walked out the door…I just wanted to give him a hug. I know, I know, his only manifestation on the show was insomnia and nightmares, and those subsequently served as the impetus for him to go in search of Mac. But really, didn't he just look…well, read below…
The challenge lines are from the episode 'Contemptuous Words': "I was afraid I'd chased you away." … "I'm really glad you came." … "It wasn't an easy decision." … "I know. But it was right, I promise you."
xxxxx
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.
xxxxx
Just This Side of Never
May 2003
Harm's Apartment
North of Union Station
Washington, D.C.
"Why is it that you're only like this when I have one foot out the door? Your interest always fades when I might actually be in a position to return it."
"Mac…"
Harm stared in shock as she walked out the door. He knew with the same certainty as he could recite his name, rank and serial number that she wasn't coming home. Maybe in a coffin, but not on her own two feet. He could feel it in his heart…in that deep wrenching ache in the pit of his soul. Yet another testament to that mysterious connection they shared, just like when she found him bobbing in the endless expanse of a wide-open sea. Webb's missions always went south, metaphorically speaking, but in the past they'd always survived them together. He didn't trust the Super Spook to protect her on his own. Super Spy…what a laugh…more like 'Super Screw-Up'. What did that CIA misfit want with his Sarah anyways? Sure she was accomplished, smart, strong, but she was still his. They came as a pair…a matched set.
His? Where'd that come from? When did he start thinking of Mac as his? His Marine, his partner…his Sarah…his very life, heart and soul. He'd barely survived the hell of the last few weeks. Imprisonment, losing the respect of family and friends, his career…his freedom. But in the end, he had survived, survived it all…justice had prevailed.
But the prospect of losing Mac for good, of never seeing her again, that was a notion he didn't dare entertain. If that were to happen…well, the CIA might as well execute him too. He might still exist, but merely as a shell of his former self.
Glancing once more toward the door, his feet moved of their own accord. He knew he had to stop her, make her understand, keep her safe with him. The hallway was deserted, silent and eerily dark. The rickety gate of the elevator pulled tightly closed, stood guard against intruders. A hand placed atop the cold metal door confirmed no signs of life. Inhaling deeply against the emptiness in his chest, his feet shuffled aimlessly back down the hall to his abode. The apartment door closed behind him with a hollow click, as he slid down the steel structure, barricading himself inside. His backside hit the floor with a sudden jolt sending a lightening bolt of pain up his spine. The brig certainly wasn't designed for comfort, especially when the accused was over six-feet tall. His back would be paying the price for days. He snorted aloud. At least, his aging body registered some modicum of life, because for the foreseeable future his heart was dead.
His head bobbed and dropped to his knees, the support of his neck having given up the fight. When had life spun so precariously out of control? And how would he ever manage to get it back? Why didn't she listen to his fears? She always used to indulge his obsessions, phobias and frights. When did their connection snap? When did she stop trusting him?
When you lied to her and hid the truth, his conscience sneered back.
Why had he done it…hidden the truth? She of all people would have understood his embarrassment and need to protect his brother and an unborn child. But 'NO'! He had to do it all on his own. Heaven forbid, the great Harmon Rabb lean on another and unburden his soul! And in the end by shutting her out, he lost her…and not just from his heart. This CIA disaster would surely wipe her spirit from his life…both body and soul.
The tears began to pool and soak through the knees of his jeans. He rubbed a finger over his cheek, shocked to find the dampness there. He hadn't even realized he'd begun to cry. Rabb men don't cry! He didn't need the fingers of one hand to count the number of times he'd surrendered to tears in his adult life. Each time, they'd sprung from some deep abyss of unbearable pain and loss. Friend…Career…Father. SARAH. He fell forward and curled onto his side. It was all too much. Didn't she realize what he'd been through? Couldn't she understand that all he needed, all he wanted was…her?
xxxxx
She leaned against the back wall of the old dank elevator. Her legs shook so badly; she doubted they could support her weight. Her hands clutched the icy metal railing clinging for life.
What had she done?
How could she make that statement and then just walk out of his life? It had been so unfair; he'd already been through so much. Wasn't that why she came in the first place, to ensure his mental and emotional health? Then why…why disregard his fears and concerns? Especially for her?
Because he didn't trust her…
That knowledge had shaken her to her core. All of the recent events that threatened to topple his life; his concerns and worries for his brother, and he didn't even share. He'd made himself look guilty. He'd caused her to doubt. Worse yet, NCIS had used her own misgivings and doubts against him in an attempt to convict.
Why didn't he trust her? She'd thought they'd come so far, that they were building toward something…something more. But he didn't even confide in her. He'd trusted Manetti more than her. A casual acquaintance…a co-worker. More than his best friend, more than…well, maybe that's all they were…friends. She'd hoped, wished, dreamed for so much more. But…
Did the loss of her dream mean that she had to shatter his? Leave him to the consequence of his own making? Ignore his fears and concerns?
No, that wasn't the way their relationship worked. Their relationship…well, whatever it was. Friend, confidante, defender, supporter…love.
She screwed up her courage, pushed off the back wall and stabbed her finger at the 'open' button. The door groaned to life and slowly slid open. It took most of her energy to cross the threshold into the hall.
What was she supposed to say to him? 'I'm sorry'…'I'm here for you'…'explain yourself'…all of the above.
Her feet barely made a sound as she crept down the hall. She paused outside his door and wagered with herself whether to continue on. Raising her hand to knock, she stopped in mid air, anticipating his indifferent response. He was so good at masking his emotions, subduing his pain. Perhaps a surprise attack was in order to thwart the erecting of walls.
She quietly turned the doorknob and felt it easily give. It opened barely a foot before encountering the barricade of a dead weight. She peeked around the structure and found him lying on the floor.
"Harm?"
He remained still and quiet and a surge of fear coursed through her veins.
"Harm, are you all right?" her voice trembled. "Did something happen?"
Still no response.
She levered herself through the small opening in the doorway and cursed the impediment of the pregnancy suit. Kneeling beside him, she brushed her fingers through his hair and tried once more. "Hey Sailor, are you still with me?"
When he still didn't answer, she hurriedly rose to her feet, "Hang on, let me just call…."
"I'm fine, Mac," came his monotone grumbled reply.
She dropped back to his side and ran a hand over his back, "Did you fall? Are you sure you're not hurt?"
He rolled away from her touch and pushed up on one hand. "Yeah, I'm fine…just a little embarrassed. What are you doing here anyways? I thought you were about to embark on a mission?" He kept his back to the door and his face from her view.
"I needed to come back. I didn't like how we…"
"Mac, I said I'm fine. Besides, I'm not really your concern," he scooted out of her reach and hunched forward. "You better get going, before Webb sends out a posse…"
"Who cares about Webb!" She pulled him back to her side and encircled him in her arms. "And what do you mean you're not my concern? You're my best friend. If I'm not supposed to worry about you, then who is?"
"Mac…"
"Besides, I'm waiting for you to explain yourself!" she tried to stifle her irritation at his rebuff.
"Me? About what…."
"Yes, you…I want to know why you didn't want me to go on this mission with Webb?" She tightened her hold when he attempted to wiggle away.
"Why do you think?!" he raised his voice in false bravado. "This is an ill-advised, dangerous mission…involving Webb, no less! When have that screw-up's missions ever gone well?! The only reason we've ever survived any of his fiascos is because we've been…together," his voice dropped to a soft whisper.
"So that's it? You're upset you weren't invited to tag along?"
"No! Of course not, it's just…"
"Just what?"
His shoulders slumped forward, "Why did you come back?" His eyes shifted to study her face gauging her mood.
"Do you want me to leave?" Her voice took on an edge of hurt as her arm slipped away from his side.
"No!" He grasped her wrist, keeping her close, afraid that she would run. "No, I just…"
"What?"
"I was afraid I'd chased you away. That you'd never come back."
"Harm, I promise I'm not leaving forever," she turned her hand over in his and responded with a reassuring squeeze.
"You don't know that," his voice dropped lower still. "I can feel it. If you go, you won't come home. Just like when you found me after my crash, I know with absolute certainty that you'll never come back…alive." By the end, his voice was barely audible and she placed her cheek against his just to hear his plea, "And that would kill me."
"Oh Harm…"
"Please…please don't go! Look Mac, I'm really glad you came back to check on me, but please trust me on this!"
She had to look away from the intensity of his stare. "Like you trusted me about Lauren and Sergei?"
He turned to look her fully in the face and cupped her chin in his hand. When her eyes lifted to meet his, he continued his appeal, "Mac, I am so sorry I shut you out. It wasn't that I didn't trust you. I was embarrassed that Sergei fell prey to someone like her, and I was trying to protect him. I didn't realize how my actions would be perceived until it was too late. I admit the subterfuge and secrecy made me look guilty. And I deeply regret that I hurt the one person I care about most. That I erroneously gave you the impression that I didn't trust you, because that couldn't be further from the truth."
"But Harm, it did hurt," she blinked to clear the sheen from her eyes. "After all that we'd been through in the last two years, I couldn't believe that you didn't confide in me. And in the end, NCIS used my ignorance and misgivings against you. I don't know what I would've done if," she couldn't stop the tear that escaped, "…if my doubts had convicted you."
He stroked his thumb over her cheek to dry the tear, "Maaac, it would've been my fault, not yours."
"But I would've still lost you," her voice cracked as one tear after another began to fall.
He scooped her up in his arms, "Luckily, that didn't happen. The justice we believe in, and the truth we fight for ultimately prevailed."
Pulling her into his lap, he tucked her close and whispered into her hair. "But Mac, this mission, the fear of losing you…of never seeing or holding you again," his voice faltered, "…Sarah, I won't survive. Please don't go!"
"Why? Harm, I need to know why?
"Mac, I just…I told you, because you're my best fr…"
"No! Don't say it!" frustration masked the disappointment and stoically filled every line on her face. "After all that's happened, that's not good enough. I need to know why YOU don't want me to go."
"I think you know why," he skillfully hedged and dodged. She leaned away to put some distance between them, but he clasped his hands behind her back to stop her escape.
"NO, I DO NOT KNOW WHY! No more vague answers and double-speak, I need to know the reason!" She stared unblinkingly into his eyes demanding all seriousness and truth. "Clear and articulate. I am right here…right now…both feet inside the door ready to return the sentiment. Now's your chance, Flyboy!"
His eyes held hers, as he screwed up his courage and plunged, "Because…I love you."
He smiled at her mute wide-eyed response, and tightened his arms around her, tucking her close to his chest. "Is that clear enough for you?" his breath tickled her ear.
Gathering the soft cashmere of his sweater into her fists, she anchored herself and surrendered to the rollercoaster ride of emotions that she'd always dreamed of, but swore would never come. It was like her favorite childhood memory of the county fair. That exhilarating moment when you crest the highest peak and begin to soar. Butterflies took flight and fluttered around her chest. She closed her eyes and frantically gasped for breath.
"Mac?"
No response.
"Sarah?"
Nothing.
"Sweetheart, did you hear me?"
She barely nodded her head.
"What happened to 'both feet inside the door ready to return the sentiment?" his voice rasped nervously with apprehension.
She nuzzled her face in the skin of his neck and traced her lips to his ear. Inhaling deeply, she whispered soft and breathless, "I love you, too."
She waited a moment in anticipation then pulled back to find identical tears welled in his eyes and a smile of awe lit upon his face.
"Powerful words, huh?" he whispered back. His gaze never left hers.
Her smile rivaled his best flyboy grin. "Oh yeah, but…" her lips lightly grazed his, before he opened up to deepen the kiss and took her in. When she leaned back panting, his eyes were dazed. Her smile grew impossibly wider, overflowing with joy, "…I think I like the actions even better."
Before she could kiss him again, her cell phone rang. They both locked eyes and simultaneously droned, "Webb."
His eyes begged and pleaded, "Don't answer it…"
She blindly reached behind her, fumbling through her purse. When she answered with a soft "hello", his features instantly deflated in disappointment and fear.
"Calm down, Webb," her fingers traced the worry lines of his face.
"About that…if you'd just…let me…a word…" Her fingertips memorized every wrinkle and line, soothing away the fret and doubt. When she gently stroked over his lips, he closed his eyes and firmly held her hand to the silently pleading quest of his mouth's touch. Beseeching with wordless movements and emotions for her to heed his fervent prayer.
"Webb, if you'd just…" she sighed in frustration. His lips continued a path along the lifeline of her palm.
"SHUT UP, WEBB!" She felt him smile against her hand.
"Listen closely…I'm only going to say this once! I am NOT going to be accompanying you on this trip." His heart paused a moment before galloping like a racing steed. Being launched into the heavens off the flight deck of a carrier never felt this grand.
"…I don't care what YOU need…I'm sure you can find someone else." He tipped his head forward, burying his face in the sweet fragrance of her neck, and she shivered as the warmth of his breath fanned her sensitive skin. A heavy sigh of relief and elation escaped his throat raising a tantalizing trail of goosebumps from her ear to her breast.
"I know this mission was…could have…implications…national security…but…" She stroked her hand up the back of his neck, and threaded fingers through the soft strands of his hair, maintaining their close intimate contact.
Turning her face into his, she lovingly kissed his cheek. "Webb, it turns out I'm already preoccupied with an engagement of much greater significance…"
His fingers glided up and down the graceful slope of her back offering a unified mainstay of love and support. "Yes, I do believe my CURRENT undertaking has life and death implications…"
"I know, Webb…if you'd just…Listen! It wasn't an easy decision…I'm not making light…I don't think you graaaasp…" her voice caught and stuttered when he lowered the zipper of her dress. Slipping his large meandering hand inside, he indulged in a sensual exploration of skin.
"I'm not going to discuss this…further. I, haahh…my ummmm…my mmmind's made uhhh-up…" she closed her eyes and tried to regulate the trembling in her voice.
He smiled against her skin like a 'Cheshire Cat' knowing he'd fiercely wagered the battle and won. They had both abandoned their fears and doubts. Finally, love wore the laurel crown of triumph after all these years.
"I don't care… But it was right, I promise you!" He ran his hand down the back of her arm cuffing her wrist.
"Ah…good luck, Webbbb," she was having trouble maintaining her thought. "I'll see you…ummm, when…"
He slid the phone from her grasp and closed it with a determined 'CLAP'. They sat huddled together wrapped in each other's arms as dusk turned to dark. The tranquility of the moment cocooned them in a satisfied restful peace such as neither had ever experienced before.
Finally, he released a heavy groan and shifted her weight, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. As much as I'd like to sit here with you in my arms all night, my back and legs are rebelling from my unfriendly stay in the 'Naval Brig Holiday Inn'."
She pulled back and caressed his cheek, "I should be going home. I'm sure you'll cherish a good night's sleep in your own bed."
He looped an arm around her back, and another under her hips, before shifting to stand. Carrying her up the stairs, he allowed her body to slide down the front of his while maintaining their intimate embrace.
"Harm, I should…."
He shushed her with a brush of lips against her own, "Please stay?"
"Alright," she sighed heavily with blissful contentment. Trying to wiggle closer still, she exhaled in frustration and tugged at the pregnancy suit. "Just let me get out of this thing!"
He calmed her struggles with a hand on her own. When she looked up in question, he led her to the bed and tucked her in. Lying down beside her, he pulled her close and reverently laid a palm over the make-believe baby mass.
"Harm?" her soft voice inquired with wary concern.
"Please, Sarah…for tonight, can we just pretend?"
She studied his imploring gaze then softly answered, "Sure," before laying a serene kiss on his brow.
As his hand rubbed gentle circles over her burgeoning belly, his look became more determined and sincere. "Soon?"
She returned his heartfelt stare and smiled with a subtle nod, "Very soon. I love you, Sailor."
"I love you too," was murmured even as his eyes drifted shut. His breathing slowed to a relaxed cadence as he drifted off to slumber in the arms of the one he loved. His first truly unencumbered dreamless sleep in weeks, nay years.
…All he needed was her.
The End…
xxxxxxxxxx XXXXX xxxxxxxxxx
AN: Please excuse the omissions, misspellings and errors; I did the final proof and corrections with a horrible migraine after too many nights on call. Mom had no part in the proofreading of this tale. The mistakes are all mine. She's too busy entertaining my visiting nieces, while preparing for a big shindig for my grandmother's 90th birthday next week. Thanks for reading.