Disclaimer: Not mine, Bellisario's
All mixed up
Spoilers: could be at every point in the series but for the sake of the story, Mac has grown her hair.
'Bang!' commander Rabb's office door slammed close behind a very pissed Marine. "Moron, stupid oaf, jerk," Mac muttered under her breath, while striding back to her own room. All at once she became aware of the curious faces of their co-workers and she shot them an angry glare. Suddenly everyone had a pressing task to fulfil.
When she arrived home, a couple of hours later, her anger still hadn't subsided. How did he dare? Accusing her of smiling to nicely to a visiting officer while at the same time flirting with every female within range himself.
Irritated she paced her living, too annoyed to sit down. Finally she flopped down on the sofa, only to jump to her feet moments later. She wanted something to munch, something sweet. Rummaging through her cupboard, she came up with nothing but old crumbs.
Looking out of the window she decided the weather was too bad to go out and buy some. Her decision was met with another flash of light and a heavy bang of thunder. The only other solution was to make something. Her mind was made up: baking cookies it was. Luckily she had the ingredients.
Harm stood nervously in front of Mac's door, manila folder in hand. It was the file of the case Mac was working on and which she had forgotten when she stormed out of his office. The admiral had ordered him to deliver it and strongly suggested, all but making it an order as well, they should solve their personal issues as well. Harm took a deep breath. She would not be happy so see him.
Suddenly he heard noises coming from inside the apartment. Strange noises, a strangled noise.
Without thinking he grabbed the spare key he had in case of an emergency and rushed inside, only to stop dead in his steps when he saw the scene in front of him.
A cursing Mac was desperately trying to free her hair from the hooks of a mixer.
"What…. what has happened?"
"What does it look like? That d*mned mixer, it grabbed my hair!"
In vain she tried to entangle her locks.
Harm jumped into action. "Don't move," he instructed. Mac threw him an annoyed look, clearly not amused by being ordered.
First Harm pushed the button to relieve the hooks form the mixer. In spite of herself, Mac heaved a sigh of relief when most of the weight was take of her hair. Then he started to untangle the hooks, one at the time, careful not to pull her hair in the process.
It took quiet a while before the dough give way and despite her anger Mac felt herself react to his closeness, her heart rate picking up and her breath becoming just a bit more laboured. She was careful though not to let him notice. Little did she know he was fighting the same battle.
Finally Harm managed to set Mac free, although her hair was all covered in the sticky batter. Her anger a bit subsided, but still not gone, Mac turned to him. "Well," she snapped, "What brought you here?"
Harm too a deep breath. "I'm here to apologize," he said. "I behaved like a jealous jerk."
Mac couldn't agree more on the jerk part and wasted no time to tell him so. It was after reading him the better part of the riot act she realized he had called himself a 'jealous jerk'. All of a sudden she blushed. To hide her confusion she told him she was going for a shower and with that she was out of the room.
Harm stood baffled. He heard the shower running and knew Mac was washing the batter out of her hair. Uncertain whether to leave or stay he opted for the latter, after all, his CO wouldn't be impressed by his performance so far. He decided to start cleaning the mess the mixer, spreading the gooey stuff all around, had made. He grabbed a sponge and bucket soapy water and started scrubbing.
In the mean time Mac stood under the warm jets, trying to pick up courage. She needed to know if he really had been jealous, she had to ask what he had meant but at the same time she was terrified of the answer. Terrified he would duck the question, terrified he would come up with some lame excuse, terrified it would not be what she wanted, needed, ached to hear: that he had been jealous because he loved her.
Then she steeled herself. After all, she was a Marine; she had told him that often enough. She could do it. She quickly towelled, grabbed some sweats and slicked her hair back, not taking the time to blow-dry it.
Squaring her shoulders she marched into the kitchen again, coming to a halt only two feet in front of Harm. He jumped and dropped the sponge, not daring to look her in the eyes.
"So you're a jerk!" she barked again, tapping him on the chest.
Harm nodded wordlessly.
"And jealous?"
Another curt nod.
"Why?"
Harm looked panicked, like a deer caught in the headlights. Mac waited impatiently, tapping her foot on the ground.
"Because you looked so friendly with Lieutenant Johnston he said, referring to the visiting lieutenant.
"So what, can't I be friendly with another officer? Why jealous?"
There was no escape for Harm. In the mean time Mac prayed he wouldn't back out, again, leaving it unsaid.
"Because I want you … for myself."
"Why?" Again that simple but so tale telling word. Harm hung his head, afraid to meet her eyes.
"Because I love you. I'm in love with you," he whispered.
The silence seemed to last forever.
"But why didn't you tell me? Why did you …?" Now it was Mac's turn to whisper, not knowing how to finish her sentence.
Harm swallowed. "I couldn't tell you. I didn't know how."
Mac looked confused.
"I was scared, ok?" he stammered. "I was scared to death that … that either you would laugh in my face or if you didn't want me, we would feel so awkward, our friendship would be ruined as well. I didn't want to lose … I couldn't risk …"
Mac gave him a stern look.
"So you love me?"
"Yes", he confirmed, still unsure of her reaction. The silence seemed to go on for ever. Now it was Mac not knowing what to say, how to say it. Finally she reached out, touching his cheek. He looked at her and gave her an uncertain smile. It gave her the courage to move on, to use both hands to trail his features, caressing his cheeks, eye sockets, browns, raking his hair and finally coming to rest at his shoulders. He stood motionless under her ministrations, waiting for her to speak.
"I'm in love with you, too."
Sugar and flower sat forgotten on the counter. No need for baking cookies anymore, since Mac had found something that tasted even better and she reached for his mouth again.
The end
