The Naked Truth

TEASER: A traffic jam on the Beltway in a car with a broken radio leaves Harm no choice but to entertain his driver by reading the newspaper aloud. . .

DISCLAIMER: As much as I wish they were mine, the usual characters aren't; they belong to the inimitable Donald P. Bellisario, Bellisarius Productions, and Paramount Studios as well as the men and women who have brought them to life. I'll return them when I'm done, I promise. Neither do I own "Dear Abby" – that belongs to Jeanne Phillips, who isn't quite the Abigail Van Buren her mother was (IMHO). Newspaper articles are based on news items from November 30, 2004.

RATING: PG-13 for sexual content

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Dribble drabble sparked by a slow night in my lonely bedroom with my local newspaper – companion pieces in "The West Wing" and "CSI" sections, as well.

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"This is why I'm driving and you aren't, Commander." Mac pointed at the line of cars that stretched as far as she could see down Interstate 495 toward Washington, DC.

Harm stifled a laugh. "What, you don't think I could handle sitting behind the wheel in traffic, Colonel?"

"At a standstill? Commander I-don't-drive-under-65-in-a-school-zone Harmon Rabb? You'd already be pounding the steering wheel in frustration and we've only been stopped here in this exact spot for three minutes and twelve seconds."

Since that assessment had the ring of truth, Harm only nodded with a wry grin to concede the point.

"You want to turn the radio on?"

"Am I boring you, Mac?"

She turned to face him, knowing full well that he would see the battle between answers playing out on her face. She could be snide, which given their baby-stepping relationship at the moment might set them back if he didn't take it as friendly banter, or she could be honest, which would be unexpected given their history.

Mac opted for honesty. "Not at all. We just haven't heard the news since we left Philly and I'm wondering if there's something we ought to know. Maybe even about the traffic."

"Oh. Okay." Harm leaned forward and fiddled with the knobs and buttons on the radio for a few minutes. "I'd ask you what station you want, but there's no power to the unit," he said, sitting back against his seat.

"Rats."

They sat in comfortable silence, inching forward about a quarter mile over the next twenty minutes.

"This is getting tedious."

"Mac, by now, I'd be trying for the shoulder as a way off or around. I admire your patience."

"A compliment, Harm?" She couldn't look at him as she guided the car at idle another seventeen feet.

"Well-deserved. Hey, I picked up a newspaper when we stopped for gas. It won't help with the traffic news, but want me to read it to you?"

"That would be nice."

"Okay." Harm reached behind the seat to grab the day's edition of The Baltimore Daily Chronicle. He took his time unfolding it, then folding it again so that he would have a clear view of the road as he read to Mac.

"Headline article. 'Supreme Court Refuses Gay Marriage Case.'"

"Really? I'm incredibly surprised, given the political climate."

"State's Rights, Mac. An awful lot of Republicans see that as trumping any other issue."

"Good point. Read on, MacDuff."

"Funny woman. 'Justices of the Supreme Court declined on Monday to hear a case brought by a conservative group against the Supreme Judicial Court of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts for the court's decision that gays and lesbians have no constitutional barriers to marriage in the state. No reason was given for the Supreme Court's refusal.'"

"It would have been interesting to be a fly on the wall when they discussed that case. Anything else in that article?"

"Just the synopsis of the arguments. The plaintiffs say that the Supreme Court should act to prevent the usurpation of legislative authority by the judicial branch and the defendants rebut saying that interest in a case does not prove injury, of which there has been none, so no remedy is required."

"Let me guess – you just summarized in 45 words what each lawyer took 90 to say."

"Not quite 90 each, but close. Next highlight, or lowlight, depending, is that sales over the weekend were not as rosy as retailers had hoped."

Mac shook her head. "I'm not surprised. You should have seen what I came away with on sale Friday morning. Oh, wait, you will, or at least a good portion of it."

Harm turned to her. "I will?"

"Hello, Christmas presents? You do remember that Bud and Harriet invited us all to their house for Christmas Day – you, me, Maddie and Tom, Jen?"

"Oh, that. Yeah, of course." He turned back to the paper. "You got me a present?"

"I didn't say that." But the grin on her face said otherwise if he looked closely.

"I'm going to skip Iraq news."

"Good. Read me the editorials."

Over the next hour – a mile and three tenths – Harm read the entire paper except the comics and the entertainment columns.

"Don't bother with the comics. They really lose something without the visuals. What's going in entertainment?"

Harm started to laugh but tried to read between his guffaws anyway. "A male ballet dancer . . . ha ha . . . with the Metropolitan Ballet of Tacoma, Washington . . . hee hee . . . stopped a Christmas show to propose to his girlfriend. Ho, ho, ho. It was their first time playing Joseph and Mary in the nativity scene together."

"There has to be a 'no room at the inn' joke there somewhere." Mac joined the laughter.

"The headline: '"I Have Room at My Inn," Dancer Declares'."

"Yeah, that was too good to pass up. But what a way to get a ring. She did say yes, right?"

Harm let the paper drop a moment and looked at Mac before he answered her question. "Yes. Gladly. My God, if a man took that kind of a chance with his heart in public, he'd better get a yes." He leaned his head back against the seat, the paper sliding off his lap as he slumped.

Mac would have turned to look at him just for the tone of his voice if it had been safe to do so. But the best she could manage was to put her right hand on his arm as a calming gesture. "At least publicly – or he had better have prepared the ground well by talking about it for a while in general terms before he pulls something that romantic."

"Duly noted."

At that unexpected reply, Mac did glance his way, seeing a small smile playing on his lips. Her heart lurched a little, which led to an oddly comfortable silence when she could say nothing in response.

"Should I see what 'Dear Abby' has to say today?" he asked after a four minute and nineteen second gap during which they traveled all of six car lengths.

"Sure."

"Okay. All these letters are in response to a mother who was concerned that her 14-year old daughter had started sleeping naked."

"Good for her."

"Who?"

"The girl. It's normal sexuality expressed in a healthy way." Mac would have paid good money to see Harm's face, given the sounds he made for thirty six seconds before he formed a semi-coherent thought.

"Norm – sex – healthy way." He coughed. "A 14-year old?"

Mac smiled and took advantage of a fortuitous full stop to tilt her head toward him. "Harm, tell me the truth. How old were you when you discovered your equipment?"

"WHAT?" He bolted straight and might have tried to escape the car if it hadn't been cold and drizzling.

"How old were you –"

"I heard you, Mac. Are you asking me when I first, um . . ."

She saw the beginnings of his flush before she saw brake lights going out in her peripheral vision and turned her full visual attention to traffic.

"I was 9."

"Why am I not surprised you were an overachiever even then, Harm?"

He sighed, but she saw that he did relax a little. "Susan Blakely in The Towering Inferno. I have no idea why, but she was the first woman who, well, turned me on in a way that I knew was different."

"I was too young when Star Wars came out, but by the time Empire Strikes Back hit the big screen, Harrison Ford made my toenails sweat."

"I've watched his movies with you, Mac. He still does."

"Mmm. Tall, dark, and handsome. Throw in complicated, too smart for his own good, and horny and you've got every character he ever played except Henry in Regarding Henry." She took a deep breath and threw caution to the wind. "Which, truth to tell, makes him my fantasy stand in for you, even though I've known him longer."

Harm sank back against the seat. "Mac, did you just proposition me?"

She knew he would see her smile in her profile as she watched traffic, which seemed to be moving faster. "You know, I think I did."

"Did you mean it? The naked, final, total truth. Are you ready to make this work?"

Mac heard the hope in his voice, the excitement straining to break through. He said, "Duly noted." Nothing ventured, nothing gained. "Yes."

"Your place is closer."

And suddenly, the man making her toenails sweat wasn't a movie idol but the man of her dreams.

-- FIN –