Disclaimer: JAG and its characters are the property of Belisarius Productions, CBS and Paramount. No copyright infringement intended.
This was originally posted at the HBX board as a story that combined the May and June challenge lines.
TIMING: The only real requirement of this story is that it has to take place after the episode "Black Jet" because Keeter and Mac have previously met.
SETTING: Keeter is in town and has asked Harm to meet him at one of their old haunts, a place called Scratch, a bar/pool hall.
INTERESTED
by: fananicfan
Harm strolled into 'Scratch' and saw Keeter talking with a bunch of guys at a table near the back.
'Keeter is just that type of guy,' Harm thought as he moved towards his friend. It didn't matter if Keeter walked into a bar or mess hall - give him a couple of minutes and he'd be surrounded by people.
In their early flying years, Keeter had told him that spending the majority of his time in a cockpit with a RIO who, for all practical purposes was a captive audience, didn't give him the sense of having a friend, so he made sure to surround himself with people who he could say were there of their own volition when he was out and about.
In recent years, Keeter had been flying for the "Company" and most of his flights had been solo, so even Harm understood the need for human companionship when he was out among people, and Keeter's easy going personality and knack for shoveling a little blarney made it easy for him to have people interested in being his friend, at least for the evening.
Harm slapped his friend on the shoulder. "Jack Keeter, it really is you. I wasn't sure since a guy sounding like you called and told me that if I showed up here, he'd buy me a beer."
"Hey, buddy. Glad you could make it," Keeter said, standing and reciprocating the slap on the shoulder that Harm had given him.
"Everyone, this is Harmon Rabb, the second best Navy flyer in the world," Keeter said to the group as he motioned to the waitress to head their way.
"Second best? That makes you about the twelfth ranked flyer then, doesn't it?" Harm chuckled, and the five or six guys around the table all offered a manly moan at the put down.
"You ought to be glad that you're my best pal, Harm, or I'd have to embarrass you now by telling these guys how many times I've had to save your six," Keeter said, not missing a beat or letting Harm's words dim his mood.
Keeter sat back down, and Harm pulled up a chair and had just gotten seated when the waitress, a twenty-something blonde with small perky breasts came up to the table.
"You boys need some more drinks?" she asked while batting her eyes at Keeter.
"I'll have another of the same, and put whatever my friend here orders on my tab," he said, pointing to Harm.
She looked down at the man sitting in the chair. "What'll you have?
Knowing that Keeter drank whatever was on tap, Harm looked up at her and said, "One of whatever my friend is drinking is fine."
She really wasn't into older men, but the man had gorgeous eyes, the young woman thought as she tried to concentrate on their bar order as another couple of guys at the table ordered another round for themselves.
She took one more look at the good looking man in the chair before saying, "I'll be back in a minute with your drinks, gentlemen."
"Keeter, I think she likes your friend better than you," one of the men at the table began to tease.
"They always do until he starts talking, then they come running to Jack," Keeter countered.
"Well, I hate to break it to all of you, but I saw her first, and if she's going home with anybody tonight, it's gonna be me," another guy at the table said.
Harm was old enough now that taking a woman home for the sheer purpose of getting laid didn't have the same appeal as it once had, and he wasn't interested in starting a pissing contest over a woman he didn't know well enough to be interested in something other than a one night stand.
"I'm on a brunette only diet right now," Harm stated. After all, he wasn't so old that he was willing to let the guys at the table know that he wasn't interested in a one night stand with a good-looking young woman.
"Well, I saw that one first, and she's all mine...excuse me," one of the men said standing to go belly up to the bar next to the woman that he was interested in.
The waitress arrived with the round of drinks, and her distraction over Harm had caused her to make an error, so she stood there for a few minutes, blocking the table's view of the woman the guy had left to hit on while she tried to smooth things out with the guys so that she didn't lose the chance for a big tip.
The man returned looking sour. "She wouldn't give me the time of day. Wouldn't let me buy her a drink...nothing. She's one cold fish, or maybe she's just one of those who prefer girls," he said, dropping his frame back down in the chair that he'd vacated moments earlier.
Keeter couldn't believe his eyes when he looked in the direction of the bar.
"Are you talking about the woman in the red top and jeans on the end?" Keeter asked the man with a smile.
"Yeah, that's the one."
"I think it's all in your technique. I'll bet that I can get her to not only talk to me, but get her to play a game of eight-ball with me."
"How much?" the man asked.
"Fifty bucks," Keeter answered before turning to leave the table. The bet amount didn't really matter to him. It was more about wounding the guy's pride a little more that Keeter thought would be fun.
"Deal!" reached Keeter's ears before he got out of hearing range of the table.
Keeter was a charmer, and Harm figured that he'd have no trouble getting the woman to play a game of eight-ball with him, so Harm shook his head as Keeter headed to the bar, uninterested in the game that his friend was playing with the guy's ego, opting to take a long sip of his beer instead of watching his friend in action.
OVER AT THE BAR
"Excuse me, miss, but I know you," Keeter said.
She'd been hit on three times already and she was annoyed.
"I'm sure that I just remind you of someone," she spat out, not even looking in his direction.
"Only when I look at you ... or hear you speak. You remind me of this woman that I spent three days with in the desert," Keeter said to her.
She turned her head, making eye contact with him for the first time. "Keeter, what are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing, but I don't have time. You see, I sort of made this bet with the last guy who hit on you that you'd talk to me and that I could get you to play a game of eight-ball with me. So, what do you say, Mac? You gonna help me make enough money on this bet to pay my bar tab....unless you're meeting someone. I wouldn't want them to get the wrong impression and spoil your evening."
"Since you're being such a gentlemen, how can I say no...but I warn you that, when I tell Harm this story, it'll be very embellished and, in the end, I'll say that this Marine had to save his Navy friend's six."
"If you want to tell Harm about my six, it's okay with me."
Keeter chuckled at Mac's slight blush at his comment.
BACK AT THE TABLE
"I can't believe it. They're headed to the back where the pool tables are," the man who'd just lost fifty bucks commented.
Harm put a hand on the man's shoulder and said, "Sorry, but my buddy does have a gift for charming the ladies." Then he waved the waitress back over and ordered the guy another drink.
ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES LATER
When Keeter went off to the back room with the woman from the bar, Harm didn't know why he hadn't just left, but he hadn't, and now he was on his third beer of the night.
Keeter came strolling up to the table. "Well, if anyone else tries their luck with her, I suggest that you don't play pool with her. She's good."
"She beat you?" one guy at the table said while the guy who'd bet Keeter dug fifty dollars out of his pocket and plopped it in front of him on the table.
"Yeah, she beat me bad, but I'm fifty dollars richer," Keeter said, picking the cash up off the table. "Since I didn't ask for her number, I'm sure that she's feeling vulnerable right now. Harm, you should go talk to her while she finishes her victory drink, a soda with a twist, before one of the other guys in this place gets the idea to talk to her."
"I'll bet you a hundred dollars that you get shot down," the betting man with the bruised ego said to Harm.
"Did I mention that she's good looking and a brunette to boot?" Keeter said, trying to egg his friend into going to talk to the woman.
"Which woman is she?" Harm asked, knowing that, if he didn't at least give the woman a once over, his friend wouldn't drop the subject.
"Jeans and a red top," Keeter answered.
Harm couldn't believe his eyes. He'd know that brunette, jean-clad form anywhere.
He didn't acknowledge his friend's comments or wait to call the man's bet. Right now, Harm wanted to know if Keeter had tried to get even with him for taking Maria Elena by taking his Marine.
'His Marine? Where did that come from?' he thought as he made his way to the bar.
His long strides made short work of the distance between the table where he'd been sitting and the bar where she was sitting.
He slipped onto the empty barstool next to Mac.
"I never expected to see you here, given your problem," he said to Mac. He knew that it was the wrong thing to say the second the words left his mouth, but it was too late.
He really did have a brain and had been known to be able to charm a lady or two, himself. So why was he always saying stupid things and putting his foot in his mouth with Mac?
"Well, for your information, someone set me up on a blind date, and I was supposed to meet him here, but I guess he either didn't show at all or didn't like what he saw when he got here and kept walking, because he was twelve minutes late before Keeter came over here," Mac explained in an annoyed tone.
"I didn't mean what I said the way it sounded. I just ..."
Mac cut him off. "Don't make it worse by trying to explain it, Harm. It's okay." She paused for a moment and started to take a sip of her drink, but thought better of it and said. "You or Keeter didn't go double or nothing on whether you could get me to play eight-ball, score a kiss, get my phone number, leave with me or anything like that, did you?"
"That's why you played with him, because he told you about the bet?" Harm asked a little surprised.
"Yes, it is. Don't you know that honesty is the best policy, Harm?"
"So, if I were to say that I came over here to find out if Keeter hit on you and if you were going to meet him later or not, then you wouldn't think that I was putting my nose in where it didn't belong?"
"If you asked if I were meeting Jack later, I'd have to ask you why you need to know. Is it because you don't think that I'm good enough for your friend?"
"No, it's because..." Harm paused and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Honestly?" he said, making it sound like a question.
"Yes, honestly," Mac replied.
"It's because, if you're going to be interested in a charming Navy flyer type, I want you to be interested in me, not him." There, he'd said it.
"I think that's the nicest thing that you've ever said to me, Harm," she said before she slid off her barstool.
She stepped one step closer to him and brushed her lips against his. "I hope you had money on that," she whispered before turning to leave the bar.
'What just happened?' Harm thought as he got to his feet to go back to the table and finish his beer.
The guys around the table were giving Harm his due when the shapely woman in the red top and jeans walked up to the table.
Mac looked at Keeter and then at Harm.
"I got out to my car, but I couldn't leave without telling you that it was nice talking to you and that, if you ever want to go out, I'm only a phone call away," Mac said before shoving a folded napkin into Harm's hand before turning and leaving the bar, including the parking lot this time.
The guys at the table stared with admiration and astonishment at the man who'd charmed the phone number out of 'the cold fish'. They were impressed.
Keeter just smiled, hoping that he'd pushed his friend in the right direction. He'd seen the sparks between them in the desert and knew that, at the very least, his friend needed to get with her to get it out of his system.
Keeter ordered everyone at their table a round of drinks before starting to tell a few stories about their Academy days to his new bar buddies.
After his encounter with Mac, Harm couldn't get back into the party mood and excused himself without touching the beer that Keeter had ordered.
Harm was fishing his keys out of his pocket and along with them came the folded napkin that Mac had given him.
He knew her phone number, so he suspected that she'd just used it as part of the show for the guys at the table, but he felt compelled to check.
He unfolded the napkin and there he saw Mac's writing, 'Only when I look at you or hear you speak do I want to be with a charming Navy flyer. So, if you're interested in a female Marine, give me a call.'
His heart jumped into his throat. She was telling him that she was interested in him. If he wanted to give her a chance... He felt around in his jacket pockets until he found his cell phone and dialed her number.
"Hello," she said after the third ring.
"Mac, I hope that I didn't call you too late, but I was thinking about what I was going to do this weekend...and I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner on Saturday. I think we need to talk about this thing between us and decide if the risks to our friendship and careers make it worth pursuing."
"I'd very much like to have dinner with you and discuss that very thing, Harm."
"Then, would picking you up at 1900 be acceptable?" Harm asked.
"Yes, that would be fine," Mac replied, feeling giddy.
"Then, I'll see you on Saturday evening," Harm stated, surprisingly calm, he thought, considering that he'd just made a date with Mac.
"Saturday evening, then," she whispered into the phone that reached Harm's ear and sent a shiver down his spine.
******
THE OUTCOME
If you're a member of the group that thinks that having Harm and Mac get together would've ruined the show, then they decided that the risks outweighed the potential and never dated again.
If you don't care one way or the other if they get together, then they decided to go on a few dates to see if, over a few months, they still thought they wanted something more.
If you're a member of the shipper crowd, like me, then they decided that night that the potential risk to what could be gained was worth it, but agreed not to "jump" into a relationship, opting to date instead to see if a true relationship blossomed in time.
The End