Chapter 10

Harm's apartment

North of Union Station

Washington D.C.

0349 local

Lying there next to Harm, with him stroking my fingers, I'm suddenly overwhelmed by everything that happened today. I've accepted his proposal, written my letter of resignation, decided to move to London instead of San Diego and then spent a wonderful hour making love to the one man I've loved for almost as long as I've known him.

I'm not really crying. But there are some tears forming in the corners of my eyes and I know he can see it. He is concerned as always. I can see it in his own eyes and the way his thumbs brush away my tears like they've done so often in the past. Only this time they aren't sad tears.

"Hey, what's wrong!" I snort at that and grin at him, which must look pretty confusing. "Nothing's wrong. Something is finally right." I give a short laugh. He sits up against the headboard of the bed, pulling me to him and taking me in his arms. He even makes sure we are decently covered from the waist down, which earns him another laugh.

"You wanna talk about it?" I want to. And at the same time I don't. How do you explain something like this? I never expected all of this when I drove over here this afternoon. And now I've got almost everything I ever wanted.

"I was just thinking about this… us." I more feel than see him nod. He places a soft kiss against my hair and his arm around my shoulder tightens slightly for a moment. "Yeah, it's kind of frightening, isn't it?" And I know he means more than just the fact that, relationship vise, we have covered more ground today than we have in the previous nine years.

I chuckle again. "You could certainly say that!" He takes my left hand again, and plays with my knuckles for a while neither one of us saying anything. "I will have to put a ring onto that finger." he says it softly, not quite a whisper, but not far away either. I look over at him, but he simply looks at my empty hand. I know that look and I don't like it.

"Harm, its ok. You didn't know things would happen the way they did." He looks at me and gives me a sad smile. "No, I didn't. But that doesn't change the facts." He sighs. "I've pictured myself doing this in the past, you know. But…" he trails off. I kind of get the feeling that I know what he meant to say. After all, I have imagined Harm asking me to be his wife in the past. Hundreds of times probably, especially around the time when I was with Mic and preparing my wedding to him. I had hoped so often that he would finally open his mouth and ask the one question that would have made all the difference. But he never did, no matter how much I dared him back then. He would have stood by and see me get married, no matter what.

One day we will need to have a long talk about our past and all the chances we let slip by, but not tonight. There is time for that and for the first time in a long time, I have the feeling that we are really going to have that talk.

He chuckles above my head and I have to ask him why. I'm glad that his mood has lifted again, because I don't like to see the sadness in his eyes and I've seen it too often recently. "I was just thinking. It's funny. I've pictured myself going down on one knee in front of you, dressed up in one of my fancy uniforms and presenting you with a ring, while asking for your hand." He chuckles again, and I feel a grin spreading over my features too.

"Not to mention, that I always thought it would happen after we started dating." Now I join his chuckles. Yeah, that's what I had always imagined too. But we never got to the dating. "I mean, I'm used to supersonic speed, but not in my private life." I turn in his arms and kiss him again. It feels so natural and right.

Intertwining my fingers with his again I lean up to speak, but it only comes out as a whisper. "We still could, you know?" He turns his head to look down at me and frowns. I think I lost him again. "I mean… we could go on a date…if you want." Boy I have no idea why I'm so nervous about this. After all I agreed on a marriage to this man. Why should it be so hard to go on a date?

His eyes light up at my comment and I can see something that looks like hope. "You would want to go on a date? With me?" Why do men have to be so dense? Of course I would want to go on a date and I tell him so. I earn his patented flyboy grin at that and that is all the reward I need. "Then let's go out, and do this right." Yup, but not tonight.

He nods and once again, his features turn into the tortured lines I saw earlier. "Mac, listen. I asked you earlier if…" he trails off to take a breath. "… I mean if what happened here was ok with you." Just how often will I have to tell him until he believes me? "Harm, is there any particular reason why you keep bringing this up?" I just have to know. If he thinks this was a mistake, I'm not sure I can keep breathing.

"Yes!" He looks at me and I have a hard time understanding him. I disentangle myself from him and sit up in bed, crossing my arms in front of me, partly because my own nakedness suddenly feels awkward, and partly because I need to be away from him.

"And what exactly would that be? Do you think it was a mistake?" I know my voice is harder than I intended it to be but I don't care. Who does he think he is? But I don't get to form the thoughts in my brain, because his answer to my question shatters everything I have within me. "Yes!"

Oh my god. I bolt from bed, not caring for the fact that I'm completely exposed to him. Grabbing for my clothes on the floor I rush out into what used to be his living room, pulling on my shorts and shirt hastily. Looking for where I left my shoes earlier I fumble with the laces as I pull them on, having a difficult time doing so because my fingers tremble like they have never done before and I decide to leave the laces the way they are.

I bolt for the door, but he is quick to catch up with me. By now the tears are running freely down my face and I fight against him, when he pushes the door closed after I yank it open. "Mac, listen to me. I didn't mean it like that!" He pleads with me and I don't have the strength to listen but neither do I have the strength to walk out the door against his powerful arms who still keep the door closed.

I feel his hands on my shoulder, trying to turn me around so I could face him, but I jerk away from his hands, because they hurt me where they are. I can't take this. It wasn't supposed to be like that, ever.

He gives in and just stands behind me, both of us facing the door. "I didn't mean it the way it came out." He repeats himself, even softer this time and I just can't stop the tears that are still running down my cheeks. "I don't want to fuck this up." I snort at that angrily. You have a funny way of proving that, Harmon Rabb. I don't say anything, because quite frankly, I don't trust my voice.

"This… us… means too much to me to fuck it up. But I guess I did anyway, didn't I?" I don't move a muscle. All I want is to get out of here so I can go back to my old apartment and think. "I love you, Sarah! I always have, and I always will. Never forget that." With that he turns around and walks back into his bedroom and I open the door and walk out, my car keys in my hand. I need to get away from here.

Mac's apartment

Georgetown, Washington D.C.

0501

It's after 0500 when I finally enter my apartment. I didn't think I would come back here. The idea had been to spend the night at Harm's and then go to the airport in the afternoon from there. I don't bother going to bed, considering the time, there is no use of that anyway. The sun is already up and beaming in through the curtains and for a moment it startles me that this is going to be another warm and sunny day in early D.C. summer.

It's kind of ironic really. The beauty is all out there and even though another sort of beauty was within my grasp for a few short hours, it feels like there is nothing left of me. Damn you, Harmon Rabb. I don't know why I keep doing this to myself. I should know better by now. After all these years I should be very aware of the fact that he always ends up hurting me, and each time it gets harder to put my life back together.

It was so perfect. Him telling me he loves me, a proposal that could only come from him, the perfect love making we shared. When I left his apartment, he told me he loved me. And for a strange reason I cannot really put my finger on, I believe him. I know he loves me. I even know he doesn't love me as his sister or any such thing, and not just because he told me that so many years ago. What we shared tonight wasn't the misguided attraction that had made me join Dalton back in what seems another lifetime. It was merely the honest expression of just how deeply we feel for each other. Maybe that's why this hurts so much.

My phone rings and I don't bother to get up. I don't even check caller ID, because I know who it is. When the answering machine kicks in, I hold my breath. "Mac…Sarah… it's me. I know you don't want to talk to me right now, but… I'll be in Blacksburg by 0800. Mattie would love to see you… And I'd love for you to come… maybe…maybe we can talk… if you want… I love you!" With that the connection clicks shut. I don't know what I want to do. Replaying his words from earlier I hear one part again and again.

"Do you think it was a mistake?" – "Yes!"

How can anything that feels so right possibly be a mistake?

Walking over to the box that I know contains my bathroom stuff, I pull out two towels and my shampoo, heading for my old bathroom. I move on autopilot, refusing to think. I fill the bathtub and make the water so hot that I can barely stand it. It's in the middle of summer and I don't think I've ever taken a bath during the summer months, but well… there is a first time for everything.

The hot water feels nice and I feel my stiff muscles relax a bit. But my mind wanders back to the events of the last couple hours, to the voice inside my head that tells me I don't know everything there is. Is he backing off again because he feels obligated? Is he afraid of what is happening? Why did all of this turn into such a nightmare in the end when it started out as the almost fairy tale?

I wake up again when I start to feel uncomfortable in the cold water. God, I must have dozed off. Yet another first time tonight. My internal clock tells me it's just barely after 0600 and that means I've been in here for over half an hour. Lifting the plug so the water can flow out, I take the two steps across my bathroom toward my shower. I don't bother to wait until the water is warm and simply step under the cold spray, welcoming it even.

When I wrap my towels around me, I realize another problem. The overnight bag I packed earlier is still at Harm's place and so is the jeans and shirt I wore over there earlier, considering I drove here in my shorts and t-shirt.

I guess there is only one way of solving that problem. I need to unpack some of my stuff. Walking into the living room I open the first box that contains clothing and pull out a comfortable jeans and shirt to wear.

Since there is no use to take another nap I repack my stuff back into the box and grab the keys for my rental car. I might as well head out for some breakfast.

Harm's apartment

North of Union Station

Washington D.C.

0618 local

It feels like I've been sitting on my bed, thinking for hours. The chances that I really did it this time are high. This time I might have destroyed our relationship and even our friendship for good. I know she was home earlier and I know she heard my message. I told her that I love her. But I don't think it's going to be enough and I haven't got an idea what to do about it.

I didn't mean exactly what I now know she heard. I didn't think our lovemaking was a mistake, I still don't. What I wanted to say was that maybe we should be taking things a bit slower, instead of rushing headfirst into it like we've been doing all evening.

I asked her to marry me mere seconds after I kissed her more or less for the first time. Of course we have shared kisses in the past. There was the bittersweet moment in Norfolk when she wore Harriet's uniform. Then there was the even more bittersweet kiss we shared at her engagement party to Mic which has haunted me ever since. But none of these moments were as important as the one tonight, when I surprised myself with asking for her hand.

Checking my watch I realize that it's time to get ready if I want to be in Blacksburg by 0800 like I told her on the phone I would. I don't linger in the shower this morning and put on the jeans and shirt that I have reserved to wear today until I need to climb my plane in the evening. I'm not sure I will see here there though.

Walking into my kitchen I find her purse and the letter she printed off last night on her computer before we packed it into a box as well. For a moment the urge to drive over to her place and talk to her is almost overwhelming. But it wouldn't be the right thing to do. She needs to decide on her own. I told her on the phone everything that she needs to know.

I grab my keys and her stuff and get on the road. It's more than an hour to Blacksburg and I want to enjoy as much time with Mattie as I can possibly get.

Mercy Hospital

Blacksburg

Washington Area

0755 local

When I finally pull into the parking lot at the hospital, my car is one of the few on the visitor's parking deck. There are only a handful of other cars, none that I know. And the one I was almost hoping to see isn't here either. It doesn't surprise me. It's my fault that things got out of hand earlier and I was in a delusion when I talked myself into seeing her here.

Mattie is awake and fumbles with her left arm impatiently, trying to get her breakfast into her mouth. I rush to her when I see her, which seems to infuriate her even more. "I can do that myself!" she claims and my suspicions are correct. My hovering does make her angry. "Good morning to you too!" I say in an attempt to appease her temper. I'm glad she can make some use of her left arm by now and I'm even proud of her to try her luck with her breakfast, because that attitude will get her to work hard on getting better. Mattie is a fighter and if anyone can pull this off, it's her.

I sit down in the chair next to her bed and simply wait for her to finish eating or to accept my help, even though I think my chances for the latter are pretty slim. Mattie Grace Johnson doesn't ask for help unless she is forced to do so. She had told me once, that relying on people only gets others hurt. I'm the living example for that.