Chapter 2 - The Next Step

Initially, the drive back to Mac's apartment was quiet. Mac didn't trust herself to say anything in fear of being laughed at by her handsome partner at JAG. She snuck a peek at him, saw the smile tugging on his lips and took offense.

"What's so funny, squid?" she asked, promising to deck him if he laughed at her.

"Kate. She's... something isn't she?" Harm's grin widened and he turned it on her. Damn him, that was such an unfair weapon. She was defenseless against his simple smile.

"She is." Mac said, averting her eyes from him.

"I'm guessing she doesn't know we work together?"

"No, she doesn't."

"And she still tried to hook us up?"

"That wasn't a hook up. This isn't a hook up."

"I guess not. Still, Kate did threaten me if I didn't treat you right."

"She did? When?"

"When I was getting in the car."

"And what did she say exactly?" a little unsure if she wanted to know at this point.

"She told me to treat you like the lovely, beautiful woman you are and to let you know it."

"And what did you say?" Mac asked, the blush creeping across her face threatening to never leave. She was sure she was getting a tan just by the intense heat caused by her embarrassment.

"I promised her I would." he flashed another smile at her and it was official, she was now a puddle of goo.

When he stopped in front of her apartment building, she thought she was safe from all that was Harmon Rabb Jr. but he had other ideas.

"What are you doing, squid?" she protested lightly as he followed her inside and into the elevator.

"I'm seeing a lovely, beautiful woman up to her apartment."

Mac felt her knees go and only remained upright thanks to the rail in the elevator. "Well... I..." she tried to formulate words, but at this point, she wouldn't even be able to pick out her name from a line up.

When the elevator doors pinged open, she almost ran to her apartment door, eager to reduce her exposure to him. He was radioactive, she was sure of it. That explained her loss of muscle control, her lack of mental acuity, the reason why her insides were now probably just liquid contents pooling at her feet.

She reached her door first but her hands shook so terribly she struggled with her lock, the damn key refusing to slot in cleanly.

His hand came over hers and the shaking stopped. There was only the scent of his aftershave, his jaw so close to her face, the faint appearance of stubble already showing. He looked so rugged this way, his deodorant only accentuating the affect. He was definitely an Old Spice guy.

"Need help with that, Marine?" he asked, his voice dipping low. Mac felt her ears burn because his sultry voice felt like they had just made love to them. How could he affect her so completely that even his voice could make her...

"I... I can handle it H-Harm." she said, though the quiver in her response let them both know she was nowhere close to having a handle on anything right now. Still holding her hand, he guided her key to the lock and turned it, unlocking her door. He opened it for her and finally released her hand.

She stood there dumbly for another second before realizing that her door was open and she was supposed to step inside her apartment. She did, not daring to look at him as she did so.

Then she made the mistake of turning around to close the door. She saw him and couldn't take her eyes off him. He stood there, looking like every fantasy she had had about him. Especially with his dress whites and gold wings. 'Overrated.' she heard her mind say, 'Liar!' she heard every other part of her scream back.

"What are you doing for dinner tonight, Mac?" he asked, his eyes suddenly unsure, his confident smile no longer quite so bright.

"I... I... have..." she stammered, wanting to run. Wanting to hide. Wanting to crawl into her fridge to cool down and congeal back into something solid once more.

"Mac?"

"Nothing. I'm doing nothing." she admitted breathlessly and heard her insides yell 'Yay!'

His smile returned and Mac knew he could get away with murder with this one. If she were a juror or a judge, or even the prosecution, this smile would have her believe he was innocent - regardless of what forensic evidence, testimony or even his signed confession said - she would move to drop all charges against him.

"So, tonight, seven, La Ferme?"

"Tonight. Seven. La Ferme." she echoed, confirming the date.

There was a brief instance where Mac wanted him to lean in and kiss her. Kiss her now and they wouldn't have to worry about dinner tonight. They wouldn't need La Ferme. They wouldn't even need to wait until seven.

She never ever figured out why that feeling had passed, not even thirty years from that very moment. She had theories, she was afraid, she wanted to eat, she wanted to date Harm before she went to bed with him. It was the one mystery she never solved in her life, though she had to admit she rarely ever thought about this mystery. In a lifetime worth of memories, this barely registered on any scale.

0030 ZULU
LA FERME
WASHINGTON, D.C.

She was the most beautiful thing in the room, Harm decided as he guided her to their table. He had used up a major favor to get them a reservation here tonight - he had defended the owner's son in a court martial, but even then it had been a close run thing. It was, after all, Saturday night.

When he showed up at Sarah MacKenzie's door and seen her in that dress that hugged her every curve, revealed just enough hint of bare skin to tease while leaving so much to his imagination that he couldn't help but imagine... he knew that whatever favor he had used up was completely and utterly worth it.

She was the most beautiful thing in the world, Harm decided at that point. And if she asked him to stand in traffic, he wasn't sure if he could resist her.

Mac cast eyes at Harm throughout dinner. He had gone civilian and even though they were no dress whites, how he looked tonight would definitely be fodder for future fantasies. The dark suit fit him to a tee, almost as if it was tailor made for him. But her eyes kept going back to the undone top button of his blue shirt, revealing that hollow between his collarbone. She imagined what running her tongue there would taste like, and how he would react to it.

Her tongue flicked out to wet her bottom lip, in anticipation of the act she was tempted to make happen.

The movement of her tongue over her lips didn't go unnoticed and for Harm that was all he could concentrate on all night. Dinner was nice, Harm was sure of it. He hadn't tasted anything, hadn't even realized he'd eaten, but he was sure it was the best meal he'd ever had.

Mostly because he had spent all of dinner watching her eat. He memorized how her lips formed around her fork, how her tongue flicked out to lick dessert, how from time to time each delicious bite drew a low level moan that drove his senses to overload.

He promised himself he would one day get her to moan like that for him. He promised himself that one day he would have her treat him like her fork too, but that was dangerous territory, because he was barely keeping his composure not to drag her into the car and make out with her like a crazed teen.

That's what she did to him. Gone was Harmon Rabb Jr. naval aviator, JAG lawyer, DFC winner, gentleman. She reduced him to Harmon Rabb Jr. 15, nervous, horny, very horny, extremely horny.

"That was delicious, flyboy." she sighed contentedly and Harm plastered on a shaky smile to hide his current thoughts from her. In his mind, she was already naked on this very table and they were breaking every indecency law in the country.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, Ma... Sarah."

Yes, that's what she was tonight. Sarah. Not Mac. Not Marine. Sarah.

The sudden doe-like look in her eyes knew that the use of her name had been surprising and effective. Harm smiled as he fished out a couple of large notes and paid for dinner. He could have used his charge card, but he didn't want to wait for them to process it, bring it back for him to sign and such. Not on a busy Saturday night. He had saved them 5, maybe 10 minutes, but 5, maybe 10 minutes extra with Sarah MacKenzie was worth everything in the world.

He helped her into her coat as they left, and as much as he wanted to take her home and make love to her, he needed to treat her like the lovely, beautiful woman she was. Not because Kate had threatened him, but because he wanted to. And because she was worth this special night that was meant just for her.

"Where to next, sailor?" she asked as she felt his hand slide to its rightful place at the small of her back. She had decided that if she got another tattoo, she needed to get one there that marked his spot on her - something that let the world know that she belonged to him.

Harm handed his key to the valet before returning his full attention to her. "Do you feel like dancing?"

"Dancing?" she asked, surprised.

oxoxoxo

Dancing was... something else. It was both the best thing and worst thing Harm had ever experienced, and what confounded him most, was that it had happened at the same time.

They had gone to a Latin Jazz club - and free of the ballroom conventions as enforced at military ceremonies - Harm showed Mac that he really knew how to dance, and he impressed her with his abilities.

What surprised Harm was that Mac was no slouch either. Somewhere between growing up in Yuma and working here in Falls Church, the stunning Marine had learned to rhumba and cha cha cha.

That she had danced exclusively with him, that her hips had ground against his in time to searing latin beats as well as slow sensual grooves had been the best experience of his life.

But her moves were also drawing the attention of all the other young bucks trying to cut in - that they had surrounded them and suddenly even though she wasn't dancing with them, they were definitely dancing with her - he realized that was the part of the night that had taken a turn for the worse.

He realized he needed to get them out of there. He had seen the lust, desire and menace in their eyes for her. She was a lady and he could see that everything those guys in the club imagined was most definitely not how you treated a lady.

Of course the irony was, this was coming from a guy who wanted to do her right in the restaurant. And the back seat of his car. And during one extremely sensuous dance, right there on the dance floor.

"Are you okay, Harm?" she asked concerned as he quickly led them back to their car.

"Yeah. I'm sorry Mac. It's just..."

"Just?" she was worried now. Did he not enjoy tonight?

"The guys in there were definitely homing in on you."

"What guys?" Mac asked, truly unaware of what he was talking about. All her senses were filled with Harm and only Harm on that dance floor. Aside from the fact they still had their clothes on and there was no actual penetration, she had been busy making love to him all night.

"The... never mind." Harm let it go once they were both in the car. Throwing the car into gear, he peeled out of there.

The drive to her apartment was mercifully short. They hadn't touched each other, had not even said a word to each other in the entire drive over.

Once again he saw her to her door, and once again Mac had trouble with the lock. But Mac eventually managed to open her door and turned around to face him. He leaned over her, not touching, but close enough to feel the heat emanating from each other's bodies.

"I had a nice time tonight, Harm." she said quietly, staring up at his face, at his lips. Her tongue flicked out again to wet hers, subconsciously signaling her desires for a goodnight kiss.

"I'm sorry about the dancing, Sarah. I wanted it to be perfect."

"It was perfect, Harm."

"I wanted it to be just us."

The fires of desire sparked in her eyes as she suddenly had an idea. She pulled him into her apartment, "I think that can be arranged, sailor."

Behind closed doors, she turned on her stereo and flicked on the CD. It was her slow jams mix - perfect - 15 slow songs that was all about loving and making love. She moved to him, put her arms around his neck and placed her body as close to his as she dared.

His hands slipped over her waist to guide their rhythm. They moved in time to the music - slowly at first, tamely, shyly, but as one love song faded into the next and the next, they became aware of how their loins fit so perfectly against each other, how their gyrations had very little dance content and that their gazes had become electric.

"Mac... Sarah..."

"Harm... kiss me."

He didn't need to be asked twice.

The kiss was light, tentative, searching, inviting, before it really took off. The kiss deepened naturally, her tongue sought his, and suddenly their lips were more than searching - they were taking, tasting, licking, pulling.

Their lungs were on fire as they parted, and their bodies were too. She tore at his shirt, not caring if the buttons flew everywhere - she'd sew them back on for him tomorrow - and he was already working the zipper of her dress somewhere between the middle of her back and the curve of her six.

"Harm... bed."

He grunted his assent before scooping her up. He carried her to her bedroom and they both knew that tonight, they had stopped being what they always thought they were to each other and were going to be so much more by the time the sun came up in the morning.


Next Chapter: 03 - The Ultimate Step