A/N: This is just a one shot…A shout out to MAJ8395, who gave me the idea for this story…
Those of you who read this right after it posted: It's late (or early) here, so I didn't edit it. I'll do that later…I should have been asleep hours ago but I was on a roll and just wanted to get this out there…so, sorry for any ghastly errors!
A/N2: Well, gee, now I can't sleep...so I guess I'll edit this...
I Don't
"Oh, Colonel, you look beautiful." Harriet stood beside and a bit behind Mac. "Mic will be so…so…"
"So what, Harriet?" The vision in ivory lace—scratchy, stiff, ivory lace—snapped at her matron of honor. Harriet was a bit taken aback by her tone, but, having once been a stressed-out bride herself, she let it go. After a moment, Harriet noticed Mac was still glaring at her, still expecting an answer. Harriet frantically tried to remember her original sentiment, but Mac's churlishness had thrown her. Mic will be so…so…so what? Think, Harriet, think!
"Excited!" Harriet finally blurted out triumphantly. Mac blinked at her a few times, an unreadable expression on her perfectly made up face, before turning back to the mirror. She tugged and pulled at the dress, mumbling something that Harriet almost didn't catch:
"Humph. Excited. Not like it takes much."
Harriet's eyes widened in surprise. Mac certainly wasn't playing the part of the blushing bride, nerves not withstanding.
Mac heaved a huge sigh, shoulders slumping a bit. "I'm sorry, Harriet. I'm just nervous and tired, I guess. I didn't get much sleep last night."
Harriet stepped closer to Mac and tentatively put an arm around her shoulders. "That's okay, Colonel. You remember what I was like before my wedding…nerves are normal."
Mac nodded. "I suppose." She continued to pull at her dress, shoving a hand down the front of it and scratching herself in a most unladylike fashion. "Dammit, this thing is so itchy! Why did I let Mic talk me into wearing his mother's dress?"
"That's Mic's mother's dress? It's so much, uh…"
"Smaller? Yeah, you can't camp under it anymore."
Harriet snorted in her attempt to hold back her laugh. "Colonel!"
"What?! It's true. I thought about giving it to Little AJ for a playhouse, but I decided it was too big—he'd get lost." At that Harriet couldn't stifle her laughter. After a moment, Mac joined in and it took the two women a few minutes to calm their giggles.
"Oh, Colonel. It's good to hear you laugh. You've been so serious lately."
Mac's face fell a bit and Harriet could have kicked herself. She was also starting to think that this was more than just the normal bridal jitters. "Colonel?" Mac's response made Harriet jump.
"Dammit, Harriet! Call me Mac. You're my matron of honor for Christ's sake!" Suddenly Mac whipped around, startling Harriet once again. She followed Mac's eyes to the crucifix hanging on the far wall. "Sonofabitch, now I'm going to hell!"
Harriet was about to offer a soothing word or maybe an exorcism to calm Mac down when the double doors next to the crucifix burst open and slammed against the wall. Mac's little sister Chloe flew into the room. She looked back and forth between the two women, her gaze finally settling on Mac. Chloe took a deep breath…
"He's here."
Chloe Anderson stood next to Admiral Chegwidden and Lieutenant Roberts. The two were engaged in the typical uncomfortable chit-chat of a CO and subordinate who found themselves in a social situation. Chloe rolled her eyes. The traffic on the beltway was such a lame topic for two lawyers. Why not talk about a juicy murder case? Or fraternization? That would be a lot more interesting.
Chloe shifted so she could see around the admiral. She was looking for a certain tall navy commander, but oh god, not that one. "Dammit!" she cursed under her breath. Apparently the admiral heard since he thumped her lightly on the shoulder and gave her a stern look. Chloe just smiled winningly at him. She wasn't intimidated by the gruff former navy seal; he was just a big marshmallow. She could tell he was fighting a losing battle against smiling back at her so Chloe upped the wattage of her grin. Finally the admiral couldn't hold his glare any longer. He chuckled, shaking his head while tugging on a lock of her hair.
"Behave, Chloe." She just threw him a cheeky wink.
"G'day, mates." The unwanted naval officer, one Mic Brumby, stepped up to them. He was decked out in his RAN uniform and Chloe couldn't help but think he looked greasy and smarmy like a used car salesman. Both AJ and Bud shook the (Chloe shuddered)...groom's hand. "Do you think Sarah would fancy a visit from her soon-to-be-husband?" He wiggled his eyebrows at the other two men. God, he was such a boor. What did Mac see in him?" It was a mystery to Chloe. She could think of many men worthier than Mic for her big sister, one in particular.
Chloe watched AJ and Bud shift uncomfortably on their feet. Bud was about to say something but obviously Mic didn't care to hear his opinion. He started to push his way past the other two officers, so Chloe sprang into action.
"NO!" She leapt in front of Mic, nearly causing him to stumble. She'd have a giggle about that later. "You can't see her now! It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. You don't want to ruin the wedding, do you? Do you?!"
"Now, Chloe…"
"She's right, sir." Bud stepped closer to Chloe and put an arm around her in support. Chloe glared up at Mic, daring him to pass by her. Mic looked back and forth between Bud and Chloe and the admiral. Chloe was pleased to see AJ's stern expression had returned. Finally, Mic gave a dismissive wave.
"Fine, Sarah'll soon be my wife. I'll see plenty of her then."
Oh, gag, was that some veiled reference to sex? And was that a leer? How disgusting!" Chloe glared at Mic again. At least he had the good grace to look embarrassed.
The four of them stood around awkwardly, trying to make small talk. Lord, was that another comment on beltway traffic? Seriously? Why not just talk about the weather? Or the price of corn? Adults could be so...dull. Chloe continued to scan the church for that familiar tall figure. He just had to make it back in time!
A few more minutes passed. Chloe was about to give up in despair when she heard Mic say the most beautiful words…
"Aw, bloody hell…"
Admiral Albert Jethro Chegwidden had been to many a wedding. Formal ones, casual ones, you name it, he'd been there. But no wedding had felt so…off as this one. The bride at both the rehearsal and dinner following had worn such a dour expression that AJ had wondered if perhaps her monthly visitor had come early. He absently rubbed the scar on the back of his bald head that he had gotten when he'd accused his ex-wife, Marcella, of the same. He never saw that china serving platter hurtling toward him. And they never did get all the blood out of that Persian rug that he fell on. Head wounds, you know...
AJ also remembered the heated exchange at the altar as Mic and Mac argued over the vows, the music, and even her veil. "No! I will not wear that veil over my face! I am not some innocent virgin as you damn well know!" Mac's words echoed throughout the church, and you could have heard a pin drop as everyone stared at the couple. Mac had blushed furiously. Mic looked livid and had been about to say something when the priest stepped in between them. He said a few soothing words to Mac and AJ was surprised to see Father O'Shea give Mic a glare that rivaled any that AJ himself had dished out. Soon a compromise was reached. Mac would not wear a veil over face and Mic was going to like it.
AJ, Bud, and Mic stood around making small talk. The wedding would be starting soon, and AJ had the honor of giving the bride away. Somehow, though, he'd always thought he'd be giving her away to someone else…someone she'd met in a rose garden…
A few words from Mic brought AJ out of his reverie. He saw Chloe dash around him out of the corner of his eye and looked up to see Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. striding down the aisle, taking his place in one of the pews toward the front on the bride's side. Harm was clad in his dress blues but, while his medals and ribbons were all in the correct placements, he still gave off the impression that he'd dressed in the dark with a pitch fork. AJ met his younger officer's eyes with sympathy that he just couldn't contain. Harm answered it with a wan smile. Poor bastard.
Well, dammit, Harm had had his chance. He'd squandered it and now Mic had won the colonel's heart. AJ checked his watch. It was time to line up and get this circus—er, wedding underway.
AJ made his way to the women's dressing room. He knocked on the door and it opened to reveal the matron of honor and junior bridesmaid. "Is it time, AJ?" Chloe asked.
"That's Admiral Chegwidden to you, Chloe." Mac's voice called out from behind the two younger women.
AJ merely smiled down indulgently at the impish girl, tugging at a lock of her hair again. "That's okay, Mac. It's time to line up. Are you all ready?"
Harriet and Chloe nodded, stepping aside to reveal the blushing bride before heading out to take their assigned places. AJ stepped up to Mac.
"Oh, Mac. You look simply…ill!" Dammit. That wasn't what he had intended to say.
"Um, I got a little sick earlier…I think I'm allergic to these flowers."
"That's not it. You look positively green." Oh, hell. Why couldn't he keep his opinions to himself?!"
Mac gave him a wan grin reminiscent of the one Harm had given him earlier. "Well, I am a marine," she joked feebly.
"Right on. You ready to get this show on the road?" He looked down expectantly at Mac, who seemed to be scanning the room. Her gaze settled on the window. The open window. She finally turned her attention back to AJ.
"Yes?"
"Is that a question?" Did she really want to do this?
"No."
"No, it's not a question or no, you're not ready?"
"No, it's not a question and yes, I am ready. Let's do this." She somewhat roughly took AJ's arm and dragged him toward the door. The grim determination on her face reminded him of a soldier ready to sacrifice himself in battle.
The bride and her escort made their way to the entrance of the sanctuary. Harriet was halfway down the aisle. Mac gripped his arm tighter. When Harriet made it three-quarters down the aisle, Mac started to hyperventilate a little. AJ thought she was going to pass out when the music changed to the Bridal Chorus and the congregation stood, turning toward them in anticipation.
"Mac?"
"Yeah, what?" She turned her doe eyes on him.
"It's time to…aw, hell, Sarah, you don't have to do this."
Mac seemed to consider that for a moment, long enough for things to get a little awkward. They should have been halfway down the aisle by now. She finally gave AJ a minute shake of her head. "Let's go."
Oh, lord. What a clusterfu—" AJ cut his own thought short.
Harm stood with the rest of the congregation. He had been seated by a short and plump little old lady named Fannie who claimed to be a part of Mac's quilting bee. Mac quilted? She was quite friendly and very…handsy. My god, was that her hand on his ass? Harm looked down at her and she tittered. Harm could only blush as he looked down the aisle to see the love of his life walking toward another man. Harm briefly wondered if he'd actually died in his rush back from his carrier quals and this was hell. How could she do this? After everything? Probably because you rejected her, you idiot, he answered himself. Wait a minute, you didn't reject her. You said not yet, and she ran to…Bugme. That smug sonofabitch.
Harm tore his eyes off the beautiful Sarah MacKenzie and looked back at..the groom. Wait a minute. Was that bastard actually giving him that smug look? My god, Bugme actually winked at him. Why that motherfu—Sarah wasn't a prize to be won! This wasn't some contest between them. How could Sarah not see what an ass Mic was?
By then, Mac had made it to the altar. The ass, ah, Mic claimed his bride. Harm suffered through the opening remarks, a few bible verses, and the overly sentimental homily. For frick's sake, was Mic crying? He must have put a pin in his pocket to poke himself for those pretty little tears. Harm bit back a snort. He looked down to see Fannie's hand rubbing his thigh.
All too soon they were at the vows. Harm was pretty sure that if he in fact wasn't in hell yet, he was headed down there fast. In the cockpit of an F-14. Of course, when he thought about it, that's when it all went wrong. He should never have left to go back to flying. He practically threw Mac into Bugme's arms. This was all his fault. With effort, he made himself focus on the ceremony again.
"Do you, Sarah Elizabeth MacKenzie, take Michael Terrence Brumby to be your lawfully wedded husband, forsaking all others, in sickness and in health, in want and in plenty, as long as you both shall live?"
This was it. This was how he was finally going to die. Ramp strikes, torture, ships on fire couldn't kill him. Sarah saying 'I do' to that pompous popinjay was what was finally going to do him in. He could see his headstone: "Here lies Harm. His heart exploded all over Fannie the Quilting Groper." All because he had said, 'not yet.'
Speaking of 'not yet,' Mac had not yet said 'I do.' Harm swatted Fannie's hand from where it rested near his crotch and watched the scene before him with renewed interest.
Mac looked like a deer in the headlights. She tried to speak but nothing came out at first. Mic was starting to scowl a bit.
"I-" She looked toward the crucifix behind the altar.
"I—" She looked over at AJ in the front pew.
"I—" She looked at Harm. And kept looking at him. She was actually staring at him. Of course, he was staring right back at her. Sarah. His Sarah. He gave her a soft half-smile. She frowned. What? What was that look about? Oh, right. Fannie was rubbing his back in slow circles, hand drifting down to his ass again. He shook her off and he could see the amusement in Sarah's eyes. But then she jumped when Bugme opened his stupid, fat mouth.
"Sarah!" he hissed.
She turned back to him. "I…" Her eyes flicked back to Harm then back to Mic. "Don't."
The congregation gasped. Fannie started fanning herself with the wedding program. Mac stepped away from Mic.
"Oh no you don't, Sarah!" Mic roughly grabbed her arm and yanked her toward him. Harm was about to go up and beat Brumby to a pulp, but AJ got there first. Bugme never saw the fist that smashed into him, breaking his nose. During the scuffle that followed, Mac managed to escape, throwing her bouquet behind her and running down the aisle. Chloe caught the wilting flowers but chucked them faster than you could say 'jilted.'
Suddenly all was quiet. Harm was still in shock but quickly became aware of everyone on the groom's side glaring daggers at him. Even Fondling Fannie was scowling at him. Harm slowly got to his feet. "Um…" he said, his voice echoing through the silent sanctuary. "I'll just…I'm going to…uh, right." He scooted past Fannie and bolted down the aisle, then burst through the main doors, only to see Mac peeling out of the parking lot, her tires screaming.
Mac sat on a bench contemplating life. Her life. And what a mess it was. She gazed up at the bony structure above her, wondering how her life had come to this. Here she was, a thirty-three-year-old woman, a lawyer and a marine lieutenant colonel, sitting on a bench in the Museum of Natural History. In a wedding dress. Her ex-fiancé's dead mother's dress, no less. She had two words for this: Charlie Foxtrot.
She wasn't sure why she'd come here. Well, that was a lie. She'd come here because Mic would never look for her here. He didn't get her enthusiasm for dinosaur bones and fossils, balked whenever she suggested a visit here to see a new exhibit, and scoffed when he'd find her reading about the latest archeological find in America. The last time a new exhibit had come through here she hadn't even bothered to ask Mic. She'd called Harm instead and he'd immediately agreed to accompany her. They'd laughed and talked, and she'd had more fun in those three hours than she'd ever had with Mic. That exact thought had caused her to cry herself to sleep that night. Thank god, Mic was out with some of his buddies. He'd tried to start something with her that night when he finally did come home, but she feigned sleep until he'd at last given up.
A couple of months after that, she found herself locked in a passionate kiss with Harm. On the admiral's porch. At her own engagement party. To Mic. She could still feel Harm's lips on hers, the way her stomach fell at her feet, the heat of him as he pulled her closer. The way they'd let their hands touch as they stood together, watching as Harriet received her lieutenant jg bars… Yup, what a mess. So many times she could have stopped this, slowed things down…but instead she'd waited until the last possible minute to leave Mic at the altar. Mac buried her face in her hands, partly in despair, partly so she wouldn't see all the stares and the little kids pointing at her. It wasn't every day you saw a woman in a wedding dress sitting at the foot of a dinosaur.
Mac continued to wallow for exactly nine minutes, thirty-two seconds until a shadow fell over her.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" Mac was about to mumble in the negative when it registered with her whose voice it was.
"Hey, Harm. How did you find me?"
He gave her her favorite half-smile. "I always know where you are."
"Ah." She motioned for him to sit down. He sat quietly for a moment before he turned toward her.
"You stole my car, Mac."
Ah, so he noticed. "Ummmm, I won't tell if you won't?" She chanced a grin.
He grinned back at her. "Fair enough."
"How did you get here?" She asked, dropping her eyes to her lap.
"A cab."
"I'll pay you back."
Harm waved that away. "It's okay, Mac."
"You left the keys in the ignition, Harm."
"I, ah, had a lot on my mind this morning."
"Me too." Silence fell upon them again.
"You okay?" He took her hand in his. She leaned her head against his shoulder.
"Yeah…but holy shit, I really screwed up this time."
"Well…you certainly created an interesting situation. By the way, Mac, you quilt?"
She smiled shyly at him. "Yeah, I do. So you met Fannie, huh?"
"Boy, did I meet her. I gotta say, I feel a little violated."
She chuckled. "Now you know what it's like for us women to walk by a construction site."
Harm shuddered melodramatically. "I swear I heard her say she could eat me with a spoon."
Mac laughed outright then. "Oh dear. I think the other ladies and I need to find Fannie a boyfriend."
Harm let go of her hand so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled closer to his side, and she let herself find comfort in the embrace of her best friend. How she missed this…
"Harm? What am I going to do now? All those people, all the expense, Mic… I don't even know where to start."
"We'll just have to take it one step at a time."
"We?"
"Well, yeah. I love you, Sarah." Tears formed in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. Harm brushed them away with his thumb.
"I love you too, Harm…and not just as a friend." She gave him one of her rare, brilliant smiles.
Harm's face lit up too. "Same here, honey."
Mac's expression grew sober. "I think…I think we need to take things slow…I need to cleanly break it off with Mic, and you need to end it with Renee…or am I being too presumptuous?
Harm shook his head. "No, you're not. And Renee and I…well, that's over. You notice she wasn't at the wedding…we broke up just before I left for my quals."
"Oh," she said with surprise.
"Mac, there's only one woman for me. That's you, in case you didn't get my meaning…"
She smacked him lightly on the thigh. "Yeah, I got it." She wrapped her arms around his waist. After a few beats she nudged at him. "Harm?"
"Yeah, Mac?"
"How did you know I'd be here, really?"
"Where else would you go to think?"
Oh, Harm. He really did know her so well. "True enough, although, I did consider going to your place…but then I figured that would probably be the first place he'd look."
"He never could get past this 'thing' between us, could he?"
Mac pulled away from him slightly to look up into his eyes. "Maybe that's because we can't get past it."
"Do you want to get past it?" Harm lowered his head and pulled her in, the distance between them closing rapidly.
"Never," she whispered before his lips claimed hers.
Six months later…
Mac stood at the full-length mirror, adjusting her veil and giving herself one last look before turning to the man behind her. She smiled broadly at him and he easily matched it with one of his own.
"Sarah, you look simply…"
"Ill?" she quipped.
AJ chuckled lightly. "I was going to say beautiful."
Mac's cheeks pinked up. "Thank you, AJ."
"Are you ready, dear?"
Mac turned back to the mirror. "Just about." AJ watched as she lowered part of her veil over her face. His eyes widened at that. Mac's blush deepened. "Um, Harm and I…well, we haven't…yet. We decided to wait until after the wedding. I mean, I know neither of us is, um, pure, but…" AJ was touched that she let him in on this, although he certainly didn't want to hear any details about his officers' sex life, or lack thereof.
"I think it's perfect, Mac. Shall we go meet your groom?"
"Oh, yes." Gone was that look of fear in her eyes, the stress and worry from her last wedding. It had been a bit rough for the couple at first…the fallout from the aborted wedding, Mic trying to sue Harm for alienation of affection, the transfer of Mac to the judiciary so they wouldn't be in the same chain of command. However, they had weathered all of those storms and had come out stronger on the other side. Mac was fairly glowing now, and, having spoken to Harm just a few minutes ago, he knew Harm was nearly giddy at the thought of his bride.
AJ offered Mac his arm. The two watched Chloe then Harriet make their way up the aisle, and then, without any hesitation, Mac let AJ escort her to her groom.
Admiral Albert Jethro Chegwidden had been to many a wedding. Formal ones, casual ones, you name it, he'd been there. But no wedding had felt so…right, so perfect as this one. As he watched Harm lift the veil and give his bride their first kiss as husband and wife, AJ knew that he had been right about the spark between them when they first met in the rose garden. It was why he had told them not to get too familiar.
He was so thankful they ignored him.
And they lived happily ever after…