I actually don't know much about McMurphy's, so if there's something wrong in this chapter, tell me and I'll fix it. ^_^
Friday. What should I do this lonely weekend? I'm definitely not going to sit at home and baby-sit Whipple. Even if there is a case to work on, I need to get out and do something. Anything to get my mind off Whipple. I pack up my things and go look for her. I see her at Harm's office door, leaning casually against the frame.
That's enough of the sailor for you, Whipple. I plaster a smile on my face and place my hand on her shoulder. She jumps, and so does Harm. "Ready to go?" I ask Whipple. She opens her mouth to say something, then looks at me and closes it. Good dog.
"Of course, Colonel. Commander Rabb here was telling me about his flying," Whipple says, smiling at Harm. I raise my eyebrows at Harm.
"I'm sure the Commander has plenty of his exaggerated stories to tell," I say, more to Harm than Whipple. Harm shakes his head and smiles a bit.
"I wouldn't want to bore you, Ms. Whipple. Have a nice evening," Harm replies. I nod and drag Whipple from the door. I'm almost to the elevator when Harriet stops me.
"Colonel...oh, sorry ma'am," Harriet says, "I was wondering if you'd like to join Bud and me at McMurphy's tonight? Oh, Ms. Whipple's welcome of course."
Harriet, thank you, thank you. "We'll be there."
"Seven all right, ma'am?"
"See you then, Harriet," I say, then dash to the elevator before anyone else can stop me, dragging Whipple with me.
It's some time later when I'm waiting in my living room for Whipple. And I thought Harm was bad with being late. I check for keys and money once more. I'm about to call out for her when she steps in front of me, smiling. I blink, surprised at the change. Whipple's long hair has been twisted up into a casual knot on the back of her head, and her simple make up for everyday has been touched up.
"Wow," I say simply. She smiles, then looks me over quickly.
"Wow yourself. The red is a nice change from the green," Whipple replies. I look down to my khakis and red sweater. Simple enough, but I guess it's different than my Marine green.
"Let's go," I say, and we get into my car. I drive, and we sit in silence. I try to focus on driving rather than thinking of something intelligent to say. I let my thoughts wander, and find myself trying to figure out who else will be at McMurphy's tonight. I actually didn't as Harriet who else she invited, but I'm assuming it'll be the majority of us from JAG. The Admiral, Sturgis, Singer, Harm....
I smile a bit and park. Whipple and I walk to the bar and enter the dim building. I take off my coat and hang it on one of the pegs my the door, and Whipple follows my suit. I spot Sturgis and AJ sitting at the bar, laughing about something. Since I can't find anyone else, I go up to them.
"Hi there," I say, leaning against the bar top. On my right, Whipple's already ordering some drink.
"Mac," Sturgis says in acknowledgement. AJ just nods his head.
"So, where's everyone else?" I ask. I'm not going to bother introducing Whipple properly to Sturgis, since she's obviously more interested in the man sitting next to her at the bar.
"I think they've got a table somewhere," AJ tells me.
"What are you two doing here, then?"
"Chatting, Mac," Sturgis says in a friendly way.
"I'll let you get on with it," I reply, then shuffle off, leaving Sturgis, AJ, and Whipple at the bar. I notice someone waving in the corner of the bar, realize it's Harriet, then walk over to join them. Everyone scoots together to allow me into the booth. Bud and Harriet are here, along with Harm and Rivera. "Hey everyone."
They all murmur they're greetings in response. "Where's Amy?" Harm asks.
"At the bar, enjoying the locals," I reply, grinning. A waiter appears at my side and asks all of us what we would like to drink. I ask for a Coke and the waiter continues down the table.
"For you, another one?" he asks Harm, picking up his empty beer glass. Without even looking at me, Harm declines and asks for water instead. He hates drinking in front of me. The waiter moves along, and is soon back with our drinks. We all chat for a little while about miscellaneous things, then suddenly a rather slow song is struck up. Uncomfortably, I shift in my seat. Bud and Harriet decide to have one dance, and I watch them for a minute before someone coughs near my ear. I turn to see Rivera looking even more uncomfortable than I feel.
"Care to dance...Mac?" he says. I smile at him, stand, and let him get out of the booth. I place my hand on his hand and we find a clear spot. I move my hand from his and move it closer to his shoulder, and at the same time he puts his hand waist. I grin.
"I might deck you if you step on my feet," I warn, jokingly. Rivera smiles nervously. There's a good space between us, and I can tell that he feels very awkward. It's almost cute how he's shy around me, even if it is disconcerting in a way. The song's halfway over when Whipple suddenly comes up to us and asks to cut in. Rivera looks at me expectantly. "You owe me half a dance, Louis," I tell him, then rejoin Harm at our now empty table.
"You're not going to dance, flyboy?" I ask, grinning. He grins back.
"Not tonight," he replies.
"What a shame," I say. "I'm sure Whipple would be disappointed."
He gives me a look and I can't help but laugh. Now I notice he's looking at me seriously, as if seeing something for the first time. I cast my eyes down, then at him again, laughing a little. "What?"
"I'm lucky you're my friend," he says. I almost choke on my Coke. Where the hell did that come from? Not that I'm complaining; any such compliment from Harm is always a plus.
"We're back at that word again," I say without thinking.
"What word?"
"Friend. Do you think that covers us?" I realize now that I've directed us into dangerous territory. A minefield is a better metaphor. Why do I always say something without thinking about it first? And I just had to go and start this conversation in the middle of McMurphy's bar. I'm lucky that no one's sitting around us to gawk at my question. God knows how many chances I've given Harm to be more than 'just friends' or 'just colleagues'. God knows how long I've been wanting the pieces to fall together.
Now that I've gotten myself stuck in the ditch, I'm curious to see what his reaction is. I'm not going to take back my words, because as I think about them, it's an honest and valid question. I try to meet Harm's eyes, but he's looking out away from me.
"Mac...." he drawls, almost warningly. Oh no, not this time. I'm not asking you to propose to me, Harm. Not yet, anyway.
"Harm, it's a question. Do you think 'friends' is the right word?"
"Didn't you ask me this at your engagement party?" Harm asks. Real smooth, sailor. Bring up Mic and all the strings attached to that. Hell, why not bring up that night in Sydney while you're at it.
"And you never really answered," I almost whisper. There are so many bad memories right now, and it's my fault that I've brought them to the surface, but I've been holding it back for a while now. Harm doesn't want to risk his professional relationship with me. Frankly, I don't fancy the idea, but if the opportunity arose to fix things between me and him, I'd jump on it.
"Mac," he tries again. I'm suddenly frustrated by him. Always trying to back out of this conversation. I'll give him the fact that McMurphy's isn't the best place to hold this talk.
I look around, reaching for the right way to say what I'm feeling. The thing I want most right now, right here, is sitting in front of me, giving me an intense look. He looks almost hurt, and I recognize that look from many occasions past. I want to be able to sit here with him and not have to pretend there's nothing going on. I'm certain our feelings our mutual, but it won't hit home until he let's go of it.
And that's what I decide to tell him. "I've been waiting...waiting for you," I say, struggling. "You had better let go, Harm, before this kills us." And I push away from the table. I leave the bar and slide into my car, then sit on the cool seat for a minute, the windshield blurring in and out of my focus. I turn the key in the ignition and pull away.
It' getting late, and I haven't moved off my bed. The lights are off in my room, and I'm staring up at the ceiling. That's when the door to the house opens and I sit up straight, wondering who has the key to my apartment. Whipple, I realize, when I hear her calling. I lie back down.
She enters my room, leans against the wall and asks, "Are you awake?"
"Yes," I reply.
"Why are the lights out?" she says, flipping the switch and nearly blinding me. I shut my eyes against the light. "Something wrong?"
Yes. "No," I tell her.
"Why'd you leave the bar so soon? I asked Lou," Whipple says, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "and he said that you were talking with Harm, then left." I don't say anything to her questions. She continues. "Something wrong between you and Harm?"
Yes. "No."
"That's not what Lou said."
I sit up and open my eyes. "What did Louis tell you?"
"He's surprised you two aren't married," Whipple says, a catty smile on her face.
I flop back down on the bed. "Good night, Amy," I tell her. She says something incoherent, turns the lights out, and shuts the door, leaving myself to brood. And plot a way to hurt Rivera, right after I'm done with Harm. I sigh and roll over, willing sleep to come to me.