Chapter 15

Mac woke to the glow of early morning sunlight falling across her face.  She stirred, instinctively turning to look for Harm.  She found him where she expected to, sleeping soundly beside her.  Mac resisted the impulse to reach over and tousle his dark hair.  Instead, she insinuated herself into his arms and wrapped her own around his chest.

His eyelids flickered, his grip tightening on her.

"Good morning," Mac said.

"Hey," was the groggy response.  Mac kept her chuckle to herself.  Their years of odd nights spent together on various missions had given her a misimpression of her husband.  He always slept like a cat when there was a possible threat.  Take away the tension, however, and the man turned into a bear.  A hibernating bear. 

Not that two mornings really qualified as a scientific survey, she amended.  And not that she'd been terribly interested in getting out of bed herself yesterday morning, either.  The memory elicited a smile. 

This morning, however, was a different story.  She poked Harm gently in the ribs.  He grunted.

"Wake up, sleepyhead.  We're supposed to go running today."

Her answer was another grunt.  He rolled toward her, throwing an arm and a leg across her body and effectively pinning her to the bed.  "Whose crazy idea was that?" he mumbled into her hair.

Mac laughed.  "Yours."  They'd agreed early on that they were going to keep up a regular exercise regimen during the six-week cruise.  The ship had a jogging track that ran the perimeter of the lower deck as well as a lap pool and a weight room.

"I was obviously out of my mind."  He snuggled more closely against her.

Mac struggled to escape his grasp, without much success.  Harm had something like eighty pounds on her, which put her at a huge disadvantage if she wasn't willing to give him a set of bruises.  So she switched tactics and kissed him instead.

His response was immediate, ardent, and almost convinced Mac to forget about running.  Laughing, she struggled away from him and climbed off the edge of the bed.  "Exercise first, sex after," she promised.

Harm threw off the covers with a grin.  "Best motivational speech I've ever heard."  He followed her out of bed.

They dressed quickly and went up to the main deck.  The sun shone low in the cloudless sky, leaving a streak of orange across the green ocean waters. The air remained cool and fresh.  Mac took a deep breath, savoring it.

A cameraman showed up while they were still stretching and began his own limbering exercises.  Mac and Harm traded glances.  Poor guy.  Well, if he wanted to film them while they ran, he was welcome to try. 

"What do you think, Harm?  Five miles?" 

The cameraman gave her a look of horror.  Harm noted the reaction, grinned.  "Sounds good to me."

They started off at their normal pace.  It might be a bit of an exaggeration to say they ran together regularly, Mac thought, though once upon a time they had.  The last few years had strained their friendship to the breaking point, so naturally many of the things they'd once done together had fallen by the wayside as well.  She was looking forward to developing a new habit of running with Harm, and not just because she loved him.  Those long legs made him a challenge.

They chatted amiably as they ran, mostly about work.  Legalese worked as well as any secret code, with certain military-specific words excluded.  Mac already missed JAG and her job.  What she wanted most, really, was to take her husband and go home

That thought conjured a few new ones.

"You know, we never resolved the issue of where we're going to live once we get back," she said.  In fact, they'd never discussed anything of the sort, but she couldn't admit that in front of a camera.

Harm glanced at her, traces of surprise on his face.  Then he grinned.  "I think we should buy a house."

Mac nearly missed a step.  "A house?"  She started to laugh despite herself.  "You don't change your mind by half-measures, do you?"

"Nope."

Mac glanced behind them.

"How's our camera guy doing?" Harm asked.

"He's hanging in there."  He didn't look happy about it, though.

"You think if we cut him some slack he'd tell us what the competition is today?"

Mac checked the man behind them.  The sweating cameraman gave her a reproachful look.  "Doesn't look good," she decided.

Harm shrugged.  "Oh well."  He took a quick swig from his water bottle.  "Hey, Mac?"

"Yeah?"

"If by chance we win this thing today, who do you want?"

Mac turned her head to stare at him, trusting her peripheral vision to keep her from running into the ship's curved rail.  "What?"

He flashed her a guileless grin.  "Who do you want to spend the day with?"

Flabbergasted, Mac slowed. "You want me to pick?"

He shrugged.  "There's no reason your day has to be a total waste.  If there's somebody you think would be decent company… sure."  He eyed her oddly, as if puzzled by her reaction.

He can't really be that naïve, can he?  Or did he simply trust her that much?  A little overwhelmed by the possibilities, Mac forced herself to pick up her pace.  She opted to answer the question as asked, rather than digging for a deeper subtext.  This was Harm, after all. 

They'd been briefly introduced to all the designated singles on the ship.  Most of the men struck Mac as little more than hardbodies, and somewhat juvenile ones at that.  The few who were more her age seemed… mundane.  Of course, her basis for comparison was a fighter pilot turned lawyer who moonlighted as a paramilitary operative, and who had a nasty habit of nearly getting himself killed in his country's defense. So she supposed her evaluation might be a little skewed.

"How about Joe Vassilis?"  She didn't quite pick a name at random, but close enough.  Vassilis was an architect, something Mac had a mild interest in.

"O.k."

They ran in silence for a little while.  Mac knew she ought to reflect the question back at him, but wasn't sure she could.  Just the thought made everything inside her churn.

Eventually, Harm gave her a concerned look.  "Is that silence because you don't want to talk, or do we need to slow down?"  Not being able to talk while running was a good indicator that a person was pushing too hard.  Mac had to make a deliberate effort not to be insulted.

"I'm fine, Harm."

He shrugged.  "Then I suppose I'll have to shelve my lecture about cholesterol intake and cardiovascular health for the moment."

Mac rolled her eyes. 

Harm went on.  "But, since you're not having trouble breathing, you must be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you!"

Harm just looked at her.

"O.k.  I'm a little mad," she admitted. She increased speed, wishing she could run away from him. 

"Why?"

"Why?"

"That's what I said, Mac."  She could hear the tired patience in his voice.

Mac came to an abrupt halt and stared at him.  He returned the look, his gaze filled with curiosity, concern, and a hint of reproach.

"You really have no idea, do you?"

"Not unless you care to explain it to me."  His voice held an edge that had been missing a few moments earlier.  Now he was getting angry.

Mac couldn't help her incredulity.  It bubbled out of her in groaning laughter.  She tipped her head back, fighting with herself.  Be constructive, Sarah.  She wanted to lash out at him, just because that was her defense mechanism.  But she'd committed her heart to him-- she could no longer maintain a perimeter fence around it to keep herself safe.

She sighed.  "All right.  I… don't know how this is going to sound, though."

Hands on hips, Harm looked at the deck.  "Fair enough.  We don't exactly have a great track record for these kinds of conversations."

Too true, Mac thought.  She wondered how much difference it would make that they were married now. 

She took a deep breath.  "Have you ever noticed that you get a lot of attention from women?"

Harm looked up at her from under his eyebrows, his expression a mixture of surprise and innocence.  "Moi?"

Mac found she could laugh.  She wagged a finger at him, playing along.  "Don't try to deny it.  I don't think there's a woman in the world who doesn't go a little weak in the knees around you."

He chuckled.  "You're exaggerating."

"No, I'm not.  Name me one woman who hasn't ever shown the least interest in you."

"Harriet."

It was Mac's turn to laugh.  "Even she goes a little starry-eyed when you turn on the charm full blast."

Harm's smile disappeared abruptly.  "C'mon, Mac!  That's ridiculous.  Harriet is one of my dearest friends.  She's head-over-heels in love with Bud, and certainly has never made any kind of pass or overture or--" He ran out of words.  "I can't believe we're talking about this!"

Mac held up her hands in a placating gesture.  "Easy. I know that.  I'm not making accusations.  Harriet's one of my best friends, too, and a woman of outstanding character.  But that's my point.  If she isn't immune, then no woman is."

Harm stared at her.  Mac could see him trying to work his way through what she'd said.

"Where, exactly, are you going with this?" he asked after a bit.

Mac turned and started walking along the track.  Harm matched her.  "I guess what I'm trying to get at is that we're on this crazy ship full of women who are going to fall all over themselves to be with you.  The only problem is, to you it's not crazy-- it's normal.  That's how your life has always been, because all women react that way around you, to some degree or other.  Does it really surprise you then that, yes, I feel threatened when any woman gets within about five feet of you, no matter how innocent the situation?"

Mac had been walking with her head down, talking with her hands as she tried to put her observations into words.  It took her several steps to realize Harm was no longer beside her.  She stopped and turned.  He was standing a few feet behind her, staring in her direction.

Mac walked back to him.  "Harm?"  She hated it when he got quiet like that.  She never had any idea what was going on behind his eyes.  "I'm not trying to pick a fight, or blame you-- at all-- for anything."  She didn't quite have the courage to reach for him.  "I just wanted to explain why I get so… so prickly."  She looked down at her hand and the rings that encircled her finger.  "If I had my druthers, these rings would declare you 'off limits', and no woman would ever look twice at you again."

His gaze narrowed.  "These rings do declare me 'off limits', Mac.  You, too."  She could hear the carefully controlled anger that simmered beneath his words. "You're assuming facts not in evidence, counselor."

"Your evidence, maybe."  Mac was too caught up in her own personal pain to get angry in return.  "My evidence is a mother who abandoned me, a father who got drunk and beat me, a failed marriage and a whole string of relationships that ended badly.  I've never known anyone who held up their end of the bargain, Harm. No one! Not once."  She felt the burn of tears and bit her lip to hold them at bay.

 "And me?"  If anything, the edge on his voice had grown even sharper.

Mac closed her eyes, fighting to keep her voice even.  "I've seen you go literally to the ends of the earth to fulfill a promise."  She'd gone with him to Russia, after all.  "I know you.  I know what kind of man you are."  She opened her eyes and looked at him.  "And so I believe-- in you, in us… but that doesn't mean I'm not scared.  This is it for me, Harm.  I can't-- If this doesn't work, for whatever reason, I don't think I could ever open myself up enough to love someone again."

Harm stared at her in silence, his gaze distant.  The moment stretched, painful and frightening.  Mac wanted to scream, but didn't dare move.

Eventually, Harm came back from whatever internal place he'd been.  He closed the distance between them and raised a hand to brush away the strands of hair the wind blew across her cheek.  His gaze filled with compassion.  "You won't have to, Sarah.  That I promise you."

Relief washed through her, leaving her feeling weak.  Mac let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.  Harm opened his arms to her and she gratefully slipped into them.  For a moment, she did nothing but listen to the strong, steady beat of his heart.

"You going to be o.k., Mac?" he asked after a while.

Gathering herself, she stepped out of his grasp.  She nodded.  "Yeah.  Thanks for not blowing up at me."

A hint of a smile crossed his face.  "The warning helped."

And with that, Mac realized, the conversation was complete.  Not that they wouldn't need to revisit it from time to time-- Harm was such an incorrigible flirt they might end up camping there for a while, even-- but she'd been able to express how she felt and he had listened.  It was a remarkable experience.

Mac met her husband's gaze.  "Do you want to finish this last mile or just call it quits?" she asked.

"Oh, let's finish it."  The mischievous glint she loved came into his eyes.  "I wouldn't want to give you any excuse to wiggle out of the promise you made me this morning."

Mac grinned at him.  "Now why would I want to do that?"

#

 They met John and Delia poolside for lunch.  Harm found he enjoyed the Washington's company more than he might have imagined.  John was a tremendously well-educated man, and they had a good time discussing a wide range of topics.  He turned out to be a bit liberal for Harm's tastes, but in areas the Navy commander found easy to compromise, for the most part.  They had fun debating gun control, education, even campaign financing.

Eventually, the heat of the day got to them and they opted to join their wives in the pool.  Mac was wearing a jade-colored bikini that did truly amazing things in combination with her dark skin and the sparkling pool water.  Slick her hair back and put her in a bikini…baby.  Harm grinned.  Steiner had certainly known what he was talking about.  Harm stripped off his shirt as he headed for the water.

"Is that from a bullet wound?"

The question stopped Harm in his tracks.  The slightly puckered, star-shaped scar was all that remained of that particular escapade.  He turned to look at John, who was watching him with a kind of fascinated curiosity.

"Yeah."  He shrugged.  It was a good thing Mac had gotten her own scars fixed.  "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I don't really like to talk about it."  The story was that he'd been caught in a robbery and was hit by a stray bullet, should he ever have to explain.  Had Mac still had the scars from that poacher's gun, the explanation would have seemed that much more unlikely.

Harm turned and dove off the edge of the pool, cutting cleanly into the water.  He swam most of the length of the pool underwater, coming up beside Mac.  John joined them more sedately a few moments later, as did a couple of other people.  There turned out to be a surprising number of people on the ship.  Besides the nine couples and two dozen designated singles, there were the coordinators for each couple, all of the sound and camera crews, the panel of judges, the show's various host personalities, as well as the cooks, maids, stewards and the captain and his crew.

Someone brought a volleyball with them, and a game of men-against-women water polo was quickly struck up.  A rather viciously competitive one, Harm decided after being bodily dragged under by three women intent on stripping the ball away from him.  They got it, too, much to his chagrin.  Had he been single, he might have considered the loss well worth the fun of losing it, but his conversation with Mac that morning made it all too clear to him that there were some lines that needed to be drawn.  And respected.

Harm resigned from the game.  He made his way to the edge of the pool and hauled himself onto it, turning to sit with his feet dangling in the water. The predatory swiftness with which two young, bikini-clad women came to sit next to him, one on either side, was downright astounding.  At least Mac was headed in his direction, working her way around the ongoing game.

"Ladies."  Ignoring them would only give the impression that he was intimidated.  Of course, in a sense he was.  Not of them, but rather of the storm clouds brewing in Mac's eyes.

"Worn out already?" one of the girls asked with a teasing grin.  Harm fished through his memory for a name-- ah, Nikki.  She was one of the designated singles-- he'd read her bio as part of their prep work for the case.  Computer science major at UCLA, into hiking and kayaking, vegetarian.  She looked like a California girl, with her tan, muscular limbs and saucy smile.

Harm summoned a grin.  "No, but it was getting a little too cutthroat out there for my tastes."  He nodded toward the pool.

"Really?"  She stirred the water with one foot, flashing her long legs.  "I thought you were more the type to enjoy a bit of healthy competition."

Harm chuckled, as much at himself as the girl's comment.  Like a shark smelling blood, she'd gone straight for his ego.  Nothing like going for the big targets.

Mac saved him from having to reply. 

"Hi, Mac," he said cheerfully as his wife swam up. 

She grinned back at him, a thoroughly dangerous expression.  "Hi, yourself.  Are they playing nice?" Mac's gaze swept across the two co-eds, both of whom deflated under the baleful stare. 

Harm jerked his head in Nikki's direction.  "Ms. Upton here was just insulting my competitive spirit."  He slipped into the water with Mac.  He didn't mind running away from Nikki and her friend as long as it didn't look like running.

Mac raised an eyebrow as she hooked her arms around his neck.  Harm immediately felt better.  "Ms. Upton has obviously never gone against you in court."

Harm decided not to rise to the bait, and kissed her instead.  He'd discovered that was much more fun than arguing with her. As often happened, the kiss got out of hand in a hurry, as he'd once put it.  He forgot all about the two young women who watched from not far away.

With twin "hmphs" of injured pride, the girls departed.  Mac laughed at their retreat.

            Harm wisely didn't watch them go.  It's going to be a long six weeks, he thought.