Title: Mine
Summary: Mac has a stalker… (Mac/Harm; Romance, Drama, Angst)
Notes: I have ONE real life friend who watched/watches JAG. And the other day we were talking about favorite episodes. Now, this person shipped AJ/Mac, so of course one of her all-time favorites was 'The Stalker', and then she said that she bet that was one of my favorites too. Back in the day – hell yes. But now it kind of falls flat. The episode started off well with SO much potential for really good ProtectiveHarm scenes. But then they introduced Francesca, had Mac fall off the wagon, and then the insane Mac/AJ near kiss. And on a shallower note, I really hate that crochet style dress she wore to AJ's party. So, I'm going to do a stalker storyline my own way. Two things to take note of: 1) I don't write a lot of plot driven stuff, so this may be absolutely terrible. 2) It doesn't follow the timeline of any specific season – but we'll say that it takes place during that magical time of season 7.
Prologue
"Excuse me."
I've been standing here for nearly forty-five minutes waiting for a glimpse of her. And my patience has paid off. Because not only have I finally gotten to see her, but she stumbled stepping out of the building and nearly fell into me.
My reflexes are quick, and I reached out to touch her – to steady her – but she rights herself quickly and my assistance isn't necessary. I curse the lost opportunity, but manage a smile anyway. "No problem, ma'am."
She's glancing at her pager, and for a second, I don't think she hears me. But then she looks up and smiles before moving along. There aren't many tables free in the courtyard. One is close to a group of young men smoking, and the other is by the trash can. I watch as she wrinkles her nose and then takes the one by the trash can. She slides into one of the wrought iron seats, and I'm mesmerized by her gracefulness. You wouldn't think a Marine would be that graceful – not even a female marine. But she is. I've been watching her for a few weeks now, and other than the slight stumble a few minutes ago, she's always so poised. I fantasize about her entering a ballroom on my arm. She looks ethereal in a gauzy gown, and every eye is on us. It's a good fantasy.
I unwrap my sandwich and take a bite and then frown. It's tuna. Why did mama make tuna? She knows I don't like to eat things that smell while I'm at work. I don't have any gum or mints, and what if today is the day I finally manage to have a conversation with her? I can't do it with breath that smells like canned fish and pickles. I push the food away in disgust and turn my attention back to her. God, she's pretty. Her hair is a little shorter these days, and I like it. It suits her. And her skin is darker than usual. I wonder if she's been to the beach lately. Or maybe a tanning place. Either way, she looks good. No, not good. Good is what you say about a decorated donut. She's a lady, and a lady is pretty. Or beautiful. Although beautiful feels a little intimate, so that might wait until we've known each other a little longer.
She looks up from her own lunch, and her face brightens in a smile and I feel my heart beat a little bit faster. She's looking right at me. She's smiling at me. I stand up, take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves before approaching her. But then the tall, good-looking guy that she's always with squeezes by me and pulls out the chair across from her.
My cheeks heat with embarrassment and anger and jealousy. This fucking guy. I'm really starting to dislike him. Since I'm already standing, I ball up my uneaten lunch and make my way to the trash can. She laughing at something he's said, and I feel my stomach clench. I hover near the trash can, trying to eavesdrop without looking too obvious. I have to know what they're saying. What he's saying to make her smile like that.
"So, Colonel MacKenzie… any big plans tonight?"
"Yeah, actually," she says. Her voice sounds different than it does when she's in court, or the way it did when she said 'excuse me'. There is a lilt to it. She sounds almost playful, and it's so arousing.
"Oh, really," he says, and his voice has a teasing note too. I feel my stomach start to churn. "Big date?"
She laughed and I watch as she pops a bite of watermelon into her mouth. "Maybe."
"Maybe, huh?" He takes a piece of the watermelon for himself. She's watching him so intensely I feel as if the whole place could go up in flames and she's never notice.
She licks her lips and nods. "Maybe," she repeats. She picks up another piece of fruit and bits into it. Juice squirts out of it this time, and she slowly licks her lips, and then delicately licks some off of the rest of her thumb.
"Jesus, Mac." The teasing note in his voice is gone, and his tone is low and dangerous. "You're killing me."
She leans back and smiles. She looks pleased with herself, and that smug, self-satisfied expression is even more arousing than the playful tone she used a few minutes ago. "I don't want to do that," she said. "I just want you to come…" She takes a long, deliberate pause, "… over tonight, and help me eat some of the watermelon."
"Hey man, can I squeeze by?"
The mood is broken, and I miss whatever she or he says next. I step to the side so another officer can dump his lunch remnants into the trash can, and I realize I need to go. I've been here watching and listening for too long. I dump the food into the can, and then turn to walk back into the building. I've almost made it, when I allow myself to look over my shoulder for one more peek, I immediately wish I wouldn't have. It looks like her legs are sandwiched beneath his under the table, and I'm so far away that I can't be 100% sure, but it looks like his hand is on her thigh.
Fuck. That won't do. That won't do at all. She's mine. Sarah MacKenzie is supposed to be mine. I just have to figure out how to make her see that.
End Prologue.
Note: The next part will be longer, and won't be from the stalker's POV.
