Note: I've bumped the story rating to R. There is a rape case at the heart of this, so the content is getting more explicit because of that.
Chapter 10
Harm and Mac sat side by side in one of the interrogation rooms at JAG. Across from them, the two Naval reservists accused of rape watched them nervously. The two men's lawyers sat to either side of their clients. Harm and Mac were the only ones in uniform, which suited Harm fine. The reservists seemed properly intimidated at the prospect of being interviewed by both a Commander and a Lieutenant Colonel. The lawyers were, too, but did a better job of hiding it.
"Let's go through the events of 12 July one more time." Mac split her gaze evenly between the two defendants. She often took the lead when they interrogated men accused of sexual misconduct. The accused didn't seem to be able to lie as effectively to a woman in that situation. Besides, Mac was just plain good at her job, whatever the circumstances.
"Yes, ma'am," the two answered meekly.
"You said Tony Ariel set up the… rendezvous with Mrs. Antony. Exactly how did that happen?"
The more outspoken of the reservists-- a Charles Brown (not Charlie, he was quick to say)-- glanced at his lawyer for permission, then answered, "Well, ma'am, Jessica-- Mrs. Antony had been sending both of us notes and stuff though Mr. Ariel already--"
"What kind of notes?"
Charles shrugged, his gaze fixed on the table. "That she wasn't going to stay with her husband and maybe, when the show was over we could get together. Not before then, of course, 'cause they wanted to win the prize."
"You and she could get together?" Mac asked.
The man glanced up at her. "And Paul." He indicated his friend.
Harm and Mac shared a look. "She was specific about a threesome?" Harm asked.
"Yes, sir."
"What did you think of that?" Mac asked them.
Charles flushed. "We didn't really know what to think, ma'am."
"But when she set it up for you to meet her in one of the empty cabins, you both went." Mac watched the two men intently.
"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Ariel's instructions were to go along with anything the contestants wanted. That was part of the job." He shrugged again. "We figured she'd given up on the million dollars for some reason."
"What did you find when you got there?"
"Just Jessica. She was layin' in bed, waiting."
"Was she restrained in any way?"
"No!" Charles was emphatic.
Mac made a note and went on, her face expressionless. "What made you think she was waiting for you?"
"She'd put candles all over the place and there was music playing and stuff."
"Did she say anything?"
"No, ma'am."
"Nothing at all?"
"No, ma'am."
"Didn't you find that odd?"
Charles made a vague gesture. "Maybe a little, ma'am, but… well, she only seemed to have one thing on her mind, if you know what I mean."
"Mrs. Antony claims she was drugged. Did you see any indication of that?"
"No, ma'am. She seemed to know what she wanted."
"So you're convinced the incident was consensual."
"Yes, ma'am. Absolutely."
Mac switched directions. "What about the notes you say she sent to you? Did either of you keep them?"
"No, ma'am. We always threw them overboard. Jessica said to. She didn't want her husband to find out."
"She said to throw them overboard-- in her notes?"
"No, ma'am. Mr. Ariel said that's what she wanted."
"Did you ever talk to Mrs. Antony about this subject in person?"
"No, ma'am."
"Did you try to talk to her about it?"
"No, ma'am. We figured that would be too risky for her, what with all the cameras around."
"Did you talk to Mr. Ariel about it?"
Charles nodded. "Once. I was feelin' a little weird about… everything… so I asked Mr. Ariel what we should do. Like, if she started somethin' and then decided to back out-- that kind of thing."
"What did he say?"
Charles kept his gaze fixed on the table in front of him. "He said to try really hard to convince her to go through with it, and to take it… you know… all the way… if she was willing, but to make sure not to do anything unless she made the first move."
Mac tapped her pen lightly on her papers. "Did you follow that advice?"
"Didn't need to. Ma'am." Charles looked up for a moment. "Like I said, she seemed to know what she wanted."
"All right. Thank you for your time, gentlemen." Mac rose to leave. Harm copied her.
Outside the door, Mac turned. "Do you believe them?" she asked. Together they set off for their offices.
"I think they're telling the truth as they perceived it." Harm shortened his stride to match hers. Mac didn't like having to trot to keep up with him.
"But she might have been drugged."
He shrugged. "Maybe. There's circumstantial evidence to support her claim. The tape from the ship seems to support the reservists' story, but it's incomplete and the sound quality is poor. There's no telling if she said anything or not."
Mac frowned up at him. "All it would take is a single 'no'."
"There's also the question of why the quality is so bad when this was a professional recording done for a television broadcast."
Mac snorted. "'Professional' might be too strong a word. But, you do have a point."
Harm looked at his partner, feeling a familiar protective tug. He knew better than to say anything, though. Mac could take care of herself as well as anyone, and disliked it when people tried to protect her. He was just glad he would be on the cruise with her, to watch her six.
Mac seemed oblivious to his thoughts. "Are you going to be ready to go by five?" she asked. Today was their last day in uniform until the got back from the Caribbean. They were becoming too easily recognized to keep working at JAG. It was an odd feeling.
"Yeah. I have a couple of files to go over with Sturgis and then I'm done." After that, they'd be on a flight to L.A. for some talk show appearance. He couldn't remember which one.
They reached the familiar confines of the bullpen. Mac flashed him a quick grin. "Great. I'll see you then."
#
Mac browsed through one of the many little boutiques that lined the concourse at Dulles while she waited for Harm to come back with the coffee. This store was a newsstand, filled with books, magazines and newspapers, as well as the obligatory racks of T-shirts and other gewgaws. Mac wanted something to read on the plane.
She picked out a novel that didn't look too sordid-- and which didn't have a steamy cover for Harm to tease her mercilessly about-- and headed for the checkout line.
While she was standing there, a familiar face caught her eye. She paused, realizing with a start that it was her own that stared back at her from the cover of People Magazine along with the rest of the cast of Temptation Cruise II. Smiling to herself, she grabbed the top copy. It would be interesting to see what the article had to say.
After she'd paid for the magazine, she slipped it into a pocket of her carry-on bag. Mac was hoping to get a look at the article before Harm saw it. She wanted first crack at the teasing rights for once.
#
It was nearly midnight on the West Coast when they checked into their room at the airport Hilton. That put it at 3:00AM in Washington. Harm noted without reaction that there was only one bed. Well, it wasn't the first time and certainly wouldn't be the last. They had an agreement worked out, at least for the duration of this assignment. At the moment, he was too tired to care, anyway.
He grabbed the case containing his toiletries and headed for the bathroom while Mac started unpacking. He didn't bother trying to tell her it could wait until morning. She wouldn't go to bed until everything had been either hung up or placed in the dresser drawers beneath the television, no matter what time it was.
When he emerged, Mac was still at work so he pitched in to help her get everything put away. Then she took her turn in the bathroom. Harm changed into the shorts that were his normal nighttime wardrobe and gratefully climbed beneath the covers. The alarm clock was on his side of the bed, he noted, and forced himself to roll over to examine it.
"Hey, Mac," he called over his shoulder. "What time is this thing tomorrow?"
"Not until two," she answered from the bathroom, her voice muffled by the closed door.
"I'm setting the alarm for nine, then. That seem reasonable to you?"
"Sounds good." Her voice cleared as she stepped out of the bathroom and walked to the bed. She was wearing a short, though not particularly revealing satin negligee. Harm liked that one. He spent about half a second admiring her, then decided the need for sleep outweighed the chance to ogle her legs. He would get another opportunity in the morning.
He turned out the light as she slipped into bed beside him. He was aware of her presence, but didn't try to move closer to her. They had agreed that they were both adults enough to sleep in the same bed without making a big deal over it. They couldn't risk having a maid see evidence of them not sharing the bed and blabbing the story to the nearest rag magazine. And if, on occasion, he woke to find Mac nestled against him that, too, was something they didn't fuss over.
With a soft sigh, Harm closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
#
Harm woke to the sound of Mac's laughter. He opened his eyes to find her sitting up in bed beside him, reading a magazine. Sunlight streamed through the windows, painfully bright. He groaned.
"What time is it?"
Mac glanced over at him, still chuckling. "About a quarter 'til. I didn't mean to wake you."
Harm pulled himself to a seated position. In the process he peered curiously at the magazine Mac was so obviously enjoying. She flicked it away, hiding the article she was reading. She grinned mischievously.
"Ah ah. You can read it when I'm done."
"What is it?" He made a play at reaching for the magazine. Mac snatched it out of his reach, holding it at arm's length.
"It's the People article about the show." She fended him off with one hand. "And my oh my, do they have some interesting things to say about you, flyboy." Her grin widened as she dangled the magazine well off the edge of the bed, beyond his reach.
Laughing at her challenge, Harm lunged for it. His hand closed on her wrist at about the same time he realized he'd committed too much of his weight to the endeavor. Mac instinctively grabbed him as they overbalanced, but only succeeded in sending herself with him over the edge of the bed. She shrieked as they tumbled to the floor in a cascade of bedding and laughter. There they grappled for the magazine, Mac's superior hand-to-hand skills negating Harm's height advantage.
With a triumphant cry, Mac slithered out of his grasp and leapt back onto the bed. She knelt at the center of the expanse, magazine held up to keep it out of easy reach. Trying to catch his breath, Harm climbed to his feet and considered his next move.
Breathless herself and still laughing, Mac started to read. "In this reporter's opinion, the hottest hunk on the cruise is coincidentally its oldest." She grinned wickedly at Harm. "Hear that, you're old."
"But hot," he answered with a grin of his own.
She ignored him. "Meet Harmon Rabb, a lawyer at a small D.C. firm. He is also a pilot, a musician, and quite possibly one of the year's sexiest men."
And didn't that sound good coming out of Mac's mouth. Harm decided to take the direct approach. He tackled her.
Her exclamation of surprise turned into another gale of giggles as they hit the bed. This time, with Mac pinned beneath him, Harm had little trouble using his additional reach to snatch the now mangled magazine from her hand.
"Hey!"
Grinning exultantly, he looked down at her. Mac's brown eyes had turned cinnamon-colored in the morning sunshine, and sparkled with laughter. Her dark hair fell about her face in tousled disarray, making her all the more beautiful. Harm wanted to kiss her and never, ever stop.
Instead, he rolled over onto his back, holding the copy of People up where he could read it. To his surprise, Mac followed him. She lay on her stomach and folded her hands on his chest, laying her chin on them. It was as if they had both returned to reality-- but were choosing to ignore it for a little while.
"Sarah MacKenzie," Harm read. "Age 34. This is a woman who knows what she wants, and how to get it. She has beauty to match her brains-- Heh. They're not kidding," he added. Mac poked him in the ribs and he chuckled. "And a fiery temper to complete the set. An expert kickboxer, she is both strong enough and aggressive enough to take on any man, which leads to the question of who will end up ruling the roost in the Rabb household. Hmmm." He raised his head to look at Mac, curious to see her reaction.
To his relief, she was still smiling, though the expression was thoughtful. "Do you think we would?" she asked after a moment. "Turn a marriage into a turf war, I mean."
Harm lay his head back down on the bed and studied the ceiling as he thought. One of Mac's least endearing traits was the way she tried to bully him whenever she started feeling insecure. "I think it would be an issue we'd have to deal with," he answered at last. "We're both pretty strong willed."
"And stubborn," she added. A minute later, she sighed. "You know, I think I just figured out why I couldn't really love Mic."
Harm tried not to tense at the sound of Brumby's name. "Why's that?"
"Because he let me push him around. He wouldn't stand up to me. You and I, we spit and snarl and fight over just about everything… but at least I know what you really think."
Harm digested that, uncertain what direction to take. He decided to lighten the mood a bit. "Just so you remember that I'm Batman."
She chuckled, then raised herself onto her elbows to look into his face. "I know I don't act like it sometimes, but I wouldn't want it any other way, Harm."
Without thinking, Harm set the magazine down, then reached up to brush a stray hair from her face. His fingers lingered on her cheek. Mac tipped her head a fraction, turning toward the caress.
They recognized what was happening at the same time. Mac's gaze flicked to the clock. "We should get going."
"Yeah."
Slowly, regretfully, they disentangled themselves. The moment wasn't exactly awkward, but they had lost the perfect, happy ease of the earlier time. He watched Mac walk off toward the bathroom, the hem of her nightgown swishing about her thighs.
Reality sucks, he thought sourly.
