Through My Eyes
Summary: Harm's point of view. Mainly to show the magnitude of his feelings
towards Mac. I don't think there's any better way to do it.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I really think that this fic could be great, but I would love suggestions. Please?
Harm's Apartment North of Union Station 1859 EST
I got home late. I'm rushing around trying to get ready for Mac to come, but I still have to take a shower. I jump in, figuring that if she gets here while I'm in the shower, she'll let herself in. I wash quickly, taking only a few seconds to shave and wash my hair. When I step out, I wrap a towel around my waist, not wanting to scare or offend her by running around in the nude. When I look through the glass blocks to my kitchen, I see a dark-headed figure looking around in my fridge.
"Mac?" I call out. I slip a pair of boxers and blue jeans on, then go out into the kitchen without bothering to put a shirt on yet.
"Yeah?" She turns around to see me standing there, with no shirt on and my hair still wet and sticking everywhere. She smiles, approaching me. Just when she reaches me and I'm sure that she's going to kiss me, she reaches her left arm around me to the counter that I'm standing in front of. She hands me a bag.
"What's this?" I ask. She got me a present?
"Open it and find out, Flyboy." She says, poking me in the chest. I quickly open the bag and pull out an green t-shirt that's about the same shade as Mac's uniform-which she is not wearing now. I unfold it and read the print on the front. In bold light grey letters, it says, "Property of the United States Marines". That would have been funny enough, but then I see the red print that's there. The red crosses out some things so that if you were to read it regularly, it would say, "Property of A United States Marine". I laugh and slip it on, seeing Mac's eyes also sparkling with laughter.
"Property of a United States Marine, huh? Well, Jarhead, I have something for you too. Hold on." I kiss her quickly and bound off to my room, still chuckling about being the property of a Marine. I rummage through my sock drawer and find the bag that I'm looking for. I run back to the kitchen and present it to the impatient Marine that's tapping her foot on the floor. She takes it and opens it. There are two navy blue t-shirts, and she picks one to unfold first. On the front, it says, "Most Sailors Have A Woman In Every Port...", in bold white letters. On the back, it says, "Mine Doesn't." She laughs, then turns and pokes me again.
"Damn right you don't, Sailor." She unfolds the other one, which says, "My Naval Aviator Is Better Than Yours..." On the back, it says, "Because I Make Him That Way." On the hem of the shirt, in bold Marine-green letters, it says, "Sponsored by the US Marine Corp."
"Do you like them?" I ask. I really want to know, because this is the first present that I'm giving her as her- um, I don't really know what I am. Am I her lover? No. Boyfriend? No. Fiancee? No. Maybe I should try being honest with her now. Maybe ask her what we are now?
"I love them. And I love you." She hooks an arm around my neck, and kisses me for the fourth time that day. I'm happy here, but I really want to be honest in everything. She pulls away and says, "I want to wear one now." I nod.
"You can go change in the-" I don't finish my sentence because she's stripped off her t-shirt and is putting one of her new ones on. My mouth drops open, and she laughs when she sees me.
"What's the matter, Sailor? I'm wearing a bra." To which my mouth drops open further, and I slap my forehead to try to stop myself from remembering the sight of Mac in her bra. I'm trying, trying, it's not working. The Beautiful One speaks again. "Geez, Harm. How long has it been?" She asks. I look at her. I have no clue what she's talking about.
"What? Since what?" Now I'm scrubbing my eyes, trying to make them forget what I saw. I'm not insane, I just don't want to lose control. If I allow myself to focus on what I've just seen, so much of her perfect, beautiful skin, I'm liable to tackle her to the floor and ravage her body for all it's worth.
"Since you've um...seen as much as I just showed you?" I hear a smile in her voice, but I feel that I have to explain to her that that's not the problem.
"That's not it. I'm trying to resist you." I look at her. Does she understand? There's a strange look on her face. What is that look? I've seen it somewhere before...Oh, god. That's the same look that she had on the ferry, when she thought that I was rejecting her.
"It's been proven many times in the past just how resistable you find me, Harm. I don't think that you should have a problem with it." She says dryly, picking up her purse from the counter, walking towards the door. I rush after her, grabbing her shoulders and stopping her, coming around to stand in front of her. She looks angry, hurt...betrayed. She doesn't understand. She's completely irresistable to me. I think that now is the best time to try the honesty thing out.
"Are you kidding me? You wouldn't believe the amount of time I spend every day at the office trying not to think about you. You don't know the amount of self-control it takes for me not to press you up against a filing cabinet and do unspeakable things to you every time you walk into my office!" Oh, man. I didn't mean to tell her that much. Why didn't I buy that filing cabinet last spring? No,no. That's not supposed to happen...yet. I'm going to be a good boy and not...do unspeakable things to her. She looks at me with what looks like a mixture of surprise and relief.
"Really? A filing cabinet? Well, Harm, I could speak about several things that I would like for you to do to me pressed up against a filing cabinet, but after we're married, if that's okay with you." I let out a sigh of relief.
"And when would that be?" I ask. Really, does she have this all planned or something?
"When you propose to me." She kisses my cheek and leaves, calling out that she'll see me at the office tomorrow. As the door closes, I bang my head against it repeatedly. I have to ask her to marry me? And I thought that she was going to make it easy for me. I sigh and pick up the phone to call my Grandma Sarah. She's got an engagement ring that she said I could have when I met the right girl. Well, Grandma, I've met her.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I really think that this fic could be great, but I would love suggestions. Please?
Harm's Apartment North of Union Station 1859 EST
I got home late. I'm rushing around trying to get ready for Mac to come, but I still have to take a shower. I jump in, figuring that if she gets here while I'm in the shower, she'll let herself in. I wash quickly, taking only a few seconds to shave and wash my hair. When I step out, I wrap a towel around my waist, not wanting to scare or offend her by running around in the nude. When I look through the glass blocks to my kitchen, I see a dark-headed figure looking around in my fridge.
"Mac?" I call out. I slip a pair of boxers and blue jeans on, then go out into the kitchen without bothering to put a shirt on yet.
"Yeah?" She turns around to see me standing there, with no shirt on and my hair still wet and sticking everywhere. She smiles, approaching me. Just when she reaches me and I'm sure that she's going to kiss me, she reaches her left arm around me to the counter that I'm standing in front of. She hands me a bag.
"What's this?" I ask. She got me a present?
"Open it and find out, Flyboy." She says, poking me in the chest. I quickly open the bag and pull out an green t-shirt that's about the same shade as Mac's uniform-which she is not wearing now. I unfold it and read the print on the front. In bold light grey letters, it says, "Property of the United States Marines". That would have been funny enough, but then I see the red print that's there. The red crosses out some things so that if you were to read it regularly, it would say, "Property of A United States Marine". I laugh and slip it on, seeing Mac's eyes also sparkling with laughter.
"Property of a United States Marine, huh? Well, Jarhead, I have something for you too. Hold on." I kiss her quickly and bound off to my room, still chuckling about being the property of a Marine. I rummage through my sock drawer and find the bag that I'm looking for. I run back to the kitchen and present it to the impatient Marine that's tapping her foot on the floor. She takes it and opens it. There are two navy blue t-shirts, and she picks one to unfold first. On the front, it says, "Most Sailors Have A Woman In Every Port...", in bold white letters. On the back, it says, "Mine Doesn't." She laughs, then turns and pokes me again.
"Damn right you don't, Sailor." She unfolds the other one, which says, "My Naval Aviator Is Better Than Yours..." On the back, it says, "Because I Make Him That Way." On the hem of the shirt, in bold Marine-green letters, it says, "Sponsored by the US Marine Corp."
"Do you like them?" I ask. I really want to know, because this is the first present that I'm giving her as her- um, I don't really know what I am. Am I her lover? No. Boyfriend? No. Fiancee? No. Maybe I should try being honest with her now. Maybe ask her what we are now?
"I love them. And I love you." She hooks an arm around my neck, and kisses me for the fourth time that day. I'm happy here, but I really want to be honest in everything. She pulls away and says, "I want to wear one now." I nod.
"You can go change in the-" I don't finish my sentence because she's stripped off her t-shirt and is putting one of her new ones on. My mouth drops open, and she laughs when she sees me.
"What's the matter, Sailor? I'm wearing a bra." To which my mouth drops open further, and I slap my forehead to try to stop myself from remembering the sight of Mac in her bra. I'm trying, trying, it's not working. The Beautiful One speaks again. "Geez, Harm. How long has it been?" She asks. I look at her. I have no clue what she's talking about.
"What? Since what?" Now I'm scrubbing my eyes, trying to make them forget what I saw. I'm not insane, I just don't want to lose control. If I allow myself to focus on what I've just seen, so much of her perfect, beautiful skin, I'm liable to tackle her to the floor and ravage her body for all it's worth.
"Since you've um...seen as much as I just showed you?" I hear a smile in her voice, but I feel that I have to explain to her that that's not the problem.
"That's not it. I'm trying to resist you." I look at her. Does she understand? There's a strange look on her face. What is that look? I've seen it somewhere before...Oh, god. That's the same look that she had on the ferry, when she thought that I was rejecting her.
"It's been proven many times in the past just how resistable you find me, Harm. I don't think that you should have a problem with it." She says dryly, picking up her purse from the counter, walking towards the door. I rush after her, grabbing her shoulders and stopping her, coming around to stand in front of her. She looks angry, hurt...betrayed. She doesn't understand. She's completely irresistable to me. I think that now is the best time to try the honesty thing out.
"Are you kidding me? You wouldn't believe the amount of time I spend every day at the office trying not to think about you. You don't know the amount of self-control it takes for me not to press you up against a filing cabinet and do unspeakable things to you every time you walk into my office!" Oh, man. I didn't mean to tell her that much. Why didn't I buy that filing cabinet last spring? No,no. That's not supposed to happen...yet. I'm going to be a good boy and not...do unspeakable things to her. She looks at me with what looks like a mixture of surprise and relief.
"Really? A filing cabinet? Well, Harm, I could speak about several things that I would like for you to do to me pressed up against a filing cabinet, but after we're married, if that's okay with you." I let out a sigh of relief.
"And when would that be?" I ask. Really, does she have this all planned or something?
"When you propose to me." She kisses my cheek and leaves, calling out that she'll see me at the office tomorrow. As the door closes, I bang my head against it repeatedly. I have to ask her to marry me? And I thought that she was going to make it easy for me. I sigh and pick up the phone to call my Grandma Sarah. She's got an engagement ring that she said I could have when I met the right girl. Well, Grandma, I've met her.
