Chapter 9

A.J. came out of his office a few minutes before the formal start of the day.  He liked to walk through the bullpen, say good morning, and catch up on the various goings-on in his surrogate family's lives.  Lately, the Temptation Cruise saga had become preeminent.  Harm and Mac had regaled them with stories of the horrors of power lunches, professional photo shoots, and worst of all, the contestant interviews.

This morning, the entire JAG team seemed to have gathered, with the notable exception of Colonel MacKenzie.  A.J. drifted over.

"Is everyone ready for the Labor Day picnic?" he asked after the round of "Good morning, Admiral!" had died away.

"Yes, sir," Harriet assured him.  "I've made sure everyone knows what they're supposed to bring for the barbeque, and Tiner has agreed to bring his volleyball net and lawn darts."

"You have lawn darts, Lieutenant?" Sturgis asked with a grin.

"I do, sir."  Tiner answered, but didn't seem to know whether to be pleased or offended by the question.

"Hey, Harm." Sturgis turned his attention to the commander.  "Are you and Mac going to make this a 'hands on' or a 'hands off' event?"

Harm flushed, embarrassed, as attention centered on him.  "I don't know, Sturgis.  I'll have to ask her."  The look he gave his friend promised retribution for mentioning something that obviously hadn't been meant for general consumption.

A.J. glanced between the two men, fighting to keep his expression stern.  "I'm not entirely sure I like the sound of this, Commander.  Would you care to explain?"

Harm spread his hands, his grin as guileless as a five-year-old's.  "Well, sir, it's a term the Colonel and I have been using to differentiate between times when we're acting… in character for the investigation, and times when we're not."

"It's pretty amazing, sir," Harriet piped up.  "They're very convincing."  The comment earned her a glare from Commander Rabb and a scandalized stare from her husband.  She subsided with an "what-did-I-do" pout.

"Ah."  A.J. studied his lead litigator.  He had never found many opportunities to advise Harm about his relationship with Mac, to his regret.  He so wanted to help the two find each other.  Unfortunately, he was bound by the rules of his position not to foster behavior that violated Navy regulations, and so far he had never stepped over that line.    He paused as a thought struck him.  This undercover investigation had done a rather good job of redrawing the lines, though, hadn't it? 

A.J. kept his smirk firmly to himself.  "I think I'd like to judge that for myself, thank you, Harriet."  He nodded to the Lieutenant, then turned to Harm.  "Consider it a 'hands on' event, Commander.  I believe that's the correct term?"

Harm gaped at him.

A.J. turned his hard-line routine up a notch.  "Do you have a problem with that, Commander?" he demanded.  A.J. so loved being an Admiral.  He could torment his friends without risk of payback.

"Uh… no, sir."

"Good."  A.J. widened his attention to take in the whole group.  "I look forward to seeing you all on Monday."  And with that he headed back to his office, silently whistling a merry tune as he went.

#

"Sturgis, I am going to kill you!"  Harm glared at the commander in friendly outrage.

Sturgis laughed, completely unimpressed.  "Only if Mac doesn't kill you first."

"She just might, you realize."

"Oh, sir, it'll be all right."  Harriet gave Harm a compassionate smile.

"You!" With a laugh of his own, Harm rounded on her. "After I've finished with him--" He pointed to Sturgis.  "I'm going to come after you, Lieutenant."  At Bud's alarmed look, he added in an undertone, "Or at the very least, order your husband to take you home and spank you."

Bud and Harriet stared at him wide-eyed while everyone else dissolved into discrete giggles. Satisfied that he'd made his point, Harm turned to leave. He took a step and nearly collided with Mac, who stood two paces behind him.  She wore a look of amusement that set her dark eyes to dancing.

"Do I dare ask?"

The spate of giggles turned into full-scale guffaws.  Harm couldn't help but join in the laughter.  "I'll tell you later," he promised.

He noticed she was holding a very large manila envelope in one hand.  "What's that?"

Mac handed the envelope over, grinning at him with a kind of cheerful menace.  "Apparently, Rolling Stone has decided they want you for their cover-- don't ask me why."

Harm studied the envelope in his hands with interest.  This whole cover photo escapade certainly wasn't harming his ego.  "That's not very charitable of you, Mac."  He flashed his partner a smile.  "Have I given you any trouble at all about being on Cosmo?"

Mac groaned.  "At least you get the shot to yourself.  I had to spend sixteen hours with that Esperanza witch."

Harm chuckled.  "Carmen, Mac.  Her name is Carmen."

"You would know."

Harm looked at her askance.  "You're in a mood this morning."  At her sharp look, he continued, "For your information, that woman has 'Maneater' stamped on her forehead."  He grinned disarmingly.  "Besides, she's engaged."  He bent down to add in a conspiratorial whisper, "And so am I, you know."

"Harm."  Mac backed up a step, her expression carrying a half-serious warning.  "Anyway, those are the prints for the cover photo."  She waved toward the envelope.  "Sandy Claussen wants to know which one you like."  Harm raised both eyebrows as she continued, "She came by my apartment this morning."

"Why'd she go to your place?"

"Because you weren't at yours."  Their gazes locked for a moment as the implication sank in.

"What did you tell her?"

Mac shrugged, her gaze even.  "That you'd already left for work, of course.  But, that's why I'm so late.  I had to throw a robe on over my uniform to answer the door, and then I had to change because there was lint all over the jacket.  Oh, and on a slightly different subject-- you left your sweater at my place last night.  Here."  She handed him the dark blue sweater that had quickly become too warm to wear while they were going over some statements related to their most recent case.

"Thanks."  Harm decided to ignore the curious expressions on the faces of the people surrounding them.  Let them wonder.  It was the only revenge he would ever get. 

#

"I feel very weird about this," Mac told Harm as they approached the Admiral's front door Monday afternoon.

Harm shrugged, unperturbed.  "Orders are orders."

Mac sighed and let it go.  It just didn't bother him as much as it did her. 

The wooden steps creaked under their feet as they made their way to the door.  Harm knocked.

A small, shadowed corner of the porch caught Mac's eye.  She turned involuntarily as the memories came back, rushing through her in a torrent of emotions.  She felt Harm tense.

"Do you ever wonder…?"  She wasn't certain she'd voiced the question aloud until he answered.

"Every day, Mac."  His voice was rough.

The door opened, startling them both.  Their gazes snapped forward guiltily.

"Good afternoon, Commander, Colonel."  The Admiral watched them with an odd expression that disappeared when they returned his greeting.  He ushered them inside.  They followed him through the house, emerging on the back porch. 

The party was well underway.  Burgers sizzled on the grill, filling the air with the heavenly smell of charred beef.  A picnic table was filled to overflowing with food, to which Harm and Mac added their own contributions.  Gunny and a pretty brunette sat on one side of the table, talking with Bud and Harriet and a couple of people Mac didn't recognize.  Sturgis and Bobbi Latham stood off to one side with Sergei, Lauren, and Jason, among others.

Harm left Mac's side to greet his brother with a hug.  Sergei had been scarce lately.  He had gotten his U.S. pilot's license and was now flying a Lifeflight helicopter for one of the big D.C. hospitals.  Mac smiled to see Harm with his little brother.  Sergei was so good for him.

Mac drifted through the group, greeting friends and introducing herself to those she didn't know.  An observant woman, Bobbi Latham took note of the engagement ring at once. 

She raised an aristocratic eyebrow in silent question.  "I didn't realize congratulations were in order."

Mac looked between the Congresswoman and Sturgis, debating her response.  From the smirk on Sturgis' face, she concluded he had deliberately left Bobbi in the dark and was waiting to see how Mac broke the news to her.

"Yes, Harm and I are getting married," Mac answered, and had the satisfaction of seeing the other woman's jaw drop.

Bobbi coughed lightly, regaining her composure.  "Ahem.  Really?  That's wonderful. When is the wedding?"

Beside her, Sturgis was fighting not to laugh.  Mac met his gaze, daring him to give the game away.  "June 19th," she answered.

Bobbi smiled at Mac.  "Well, all I can say is, it's about time!"

At that, Sturgis burst out laughing.  Mac dropped her gaze, suddenly cold.  Bobbi couldn't know how deeply her comment cut.  In fact, she was looking between Sturgis and Mac with apprehension, obviously realizing she'd said something unwelcome.

A hand touched Mac's hip, bringing an instant flush of warmth.  The hard knot in her stomach relaxed a notch as Harm stepped up behind her, giving her a gentle hug.  Mac glanced up at his face, needing his smile to chase away the cold fear in her heart.

What am I doing? she snarled at herself.  This is all a game.  A fairy tale.  I can't take this as reassurance that he really loves me!  But she was, and she knew it.

"Will you excuse us?" she asked Bobbi.  She turned to Harm.  "We need to talk."

Leaving a disturbed Bobbi Latham behind, Mac led her partner into the house and through it-- to the porch.

Harm watched her with a concern that deepened as he took note of the location.  "What's up, Mac?" His voice was wary.

Mac crossed her arms and walked to the banister to stare out at the lawn.  "I'm not sure I can do this."

"This, today?  Or this, the entire investigation?"

"Either.  Both."  She bit her lip.  "I don't know."

"What did Bobbi Latham say to you?"  Other than his voice, Harm didn't make a sound.  He tended to go very still whenever they had these kinds of conversations.  He did an impressive boulder impersonation.  Mac hadn't yet managed to bully him into anything.  She was learning not to try.

Mac shook her head tiredly.  "It doesn't matter." 

She gathered her courage and turned to face him.  There was one question she had to have the answer to. 

"Harm, the last time we were here… Why did you let me walk away?"  She remembered clearly the passion and longing with which he'd kissed her that night.  All he would have had to do was say the word and she would have gone to him, gone with him, and never looked back.  Surely he knew that.

As the guards sprang into place in his eyes, she had her answer.  He knew.  Bitter anger rose in her throat.  "How can you do this?"  Her hands clenched at her sides, echoing her feelings.

"Do what?" He stood there, his posture deceptively casual.

"This!"  Mac spread her arms.  "This-- this-- Jekyll and Hyde act.  This game.  This farce.  How can you hold me and kiss me-- and don't you dare tell me it isn't real, because I know better--" She pointed a finger at his chest.  "--and then, like it's on some kind of switch, just go back to where all of that is off limits."

Harm stared at her, and for a minute she was afraid he wouldn't answer.  Then he sighed.  "There aren't any consequences in a game, Mac."  His eyes were serious, shadowed.  "That's why we play them."

Mac stared at him in dawning fury.  Was he using her?  "Consequences?  Are you really that afraid of responsibility, Rabb?  Or are you just so selfish you run away from anything that might possibly be meaningful so you won't have to risk losing that precious self-control of yours?"

Pure, bald anger flared in his eyes.  "You're out of line, Mac."  The words were cold.

Mac wanted to hit him.  Anything to break through that rigid wall and get a true, honest, uncontrolled reaction from him.  Anything that would prove she'd gotten all the way to his heart.

A muscle in his jaw knotted as he clenched his teeth. "You have no idea what you're talking about.  You act like all we have to do is say the magic words and we can ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after.  It doesn't work that way!"  His voice rose on that last, and he paused.  She watched him fight for control.  When he had it, he continued in a deceptively mild voice, "It isn't that simple."

"Yes, it is!"  Mac leaned back against the banister, wrapping her arms around her waist for comfort.  "Commitment is a pretty simple concept.  That doesn't mean it's easy, but it is simple."  The obvious example leapt to mind.  "You're a career officer, Harm.  How can you make lifelong, do-or-die commitments to the Navy but not to me?  Or any woman, for that matter?"

Harm looked up, out over Mac's head.  His gaze grew distant.  "The Navy is an institution, Mac," he said patiently, as if explaining something to a child.  "It's not as… fragile as people are."

Mac stared at him as the pieces cascaded into place.  Suddenly she understood. 

When Harmon Rabb, Sr. had gone down in Vietnam, it had taught his young, adoring son that people couldn't be trusted, even if they loved you.  Sometimes they left and didn't come back.  Maybe, she thought, Harm might have gotten over that once he grew up, but the woman he'd given his heart to as a young man-- Diane-- also died, cementing the conviction.

And here I am, the spitting image of the only woman he ever allowed himself to love.  Mac wasn't foolish enough to believe Harm only saw her as a reflection of Diane.  But she could imagine a little voice inside him whispering that this one, too, would only leave.  He might even hold the secret fear that she would die because he loved her.

Mac stared up at her partner's empty-eyed gaze.  She finally held the key that unlocked the mystery of Harmon Rabb, Jr.  She just wished she knew what to do with it.

Her anger drained away as quickly as it had come.  Quiet tears followed.  For him.  For them.  She reached out to wrap her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest.  After a moment, his arms folded around her, holding her tight.

"I'm sorry, Mac."  She felt his breath against her neck.  "I don't think I can be what you want me to."

Mac wiped her tears.  She was nothing if not tenacious, and proud of it.  "Don't wimp out on me now, Commander," she told him.

His answer was a strained chuckle.  He continued to hold her close.

"Are you ready to go back to the party?" he asked after a while.  "People are going to start to wonder what happened to us."

"Yeah." Mac straightened and summoned a bright smile.  "The Admiral did want a demonstration, didn't he?"

He touched her cheek.  "Are you o.k. with that?" His gaze was frank.

She shrugged.  "We have a job to do."

"That wasn't what I meant."

Mac looked into his face.  "I know."  She sighed, resigning herself to the moment.  "You answered my question, which is what I really needed.  I can 'be o.k.' with the rest of it."

They stared at each other for several long moments.  Then Harm bent down to kiss her with a gentle intensity that made her chest ache.

"Just getting back in character?" she asked when they parted.

He shook his head.  "Not here."  He cocked an eyebrow at the weathered boards of the Admiral's porch, a hint of wry humor creeping into his expression.

Mac nodded, accepting that.  A five-foot by five-foot square of wooden planks where they could be completely honest wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. 

She summoned a grin.  "Well, shall we go scandalize our co-workers?"

Harm chuckled.  "I'm game if you are."