Behold, the end....
I've been sitting in my office for fifteen minutes, itching to know who sent him the letter. I've gotten up three times to walk into his office, but my legs fail and I sit back down, once again to start drumming my fingers. Incessantly. I make up my mind to go and ask - seriously, this time - who the letter is from, but Harm beats me to it.
"Mac?"
I look up, already knowing it's Harm. "Hmm?"
"You okay?" he asks slowly.
I force a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"I was just asking. Do you wanna catch some lunch later?"
Somebody must really hate me. I wave my hands to above my desk, indicating the mess of papers. "I'll be going hungry today," I say. A shame, too, because I have a hankering for burger.
"I'll help you."
I look up at him. It'd be nice, but he can't do that. "Harm, you're not on my case."
"I can be." He grins, leaning on the doorframe.
"Harm-"
"C'mon, Mac. I'm not gonna get thrown out for it."
I waver. Maybe he's right. "All right."
"I'll be back in a minute," he says.
"Good...oh, by the way," I say, plunging ahead. "Who's that letter from?"
Harm grins, but there's a hint of something else in his eyes. "From a friend."
"Some friend."
His eyebrows wiggle. "I'll say," he says mysteriously. And he walks away, leaving me even more puzzled than before. I hate it when I'm the loser.
It's amazing how much more productive I am in the afternoons. Granted, I have the company of a rather good-looking sailor by my side. I look at him out of the corner of my eyes; his chest lifts and lowers with his breath and his brow furrows with thought. He glances up to look for something on my desk, and I quickly look back down at my file.
"Where's that list of witness - oh, got it," Harm says, grabbing stapled sheets.
"Did you find someone else?" I ask, peering over his shoulder while I subtly admire his scent and warmth.
"Yeah...Lieutenant Amos Flint. Supposedly talked to your man an hour before he went on his flight."
That's nice, can you lean over this way a little? "What are you going to say if the Admiral comes in?" I ask.
"I don't have anything else to work on...for once. I haven't been on the Admiral's good side lately."
"Have you ever been?" says a new voice from the doorway. I make a new speed record scooting away from Harm. The woman at the door is pale with gorgeous red curls. She smirks at us and saunters in a bit, leaning herself against the door. She's a toothpick. I bet she had a cracker for lunch....and the other half for breakfast.
"Diane," Harm says, shooting up and practically hopping over the desk.
"Howdy," she replies, and hugs him. Harm places his arms around her gingerly, glancing at me. I plaster a mild look on my face. "Thought I'd drop by."
"Oh, er, that's good. Diane Flaggery, this is my friend, Colonel MacKenzie." I notice, with glee, that Diane looks me over nervously.
"Nice to meet you," I say automatically. She nods, the directs her attention back to Harm.
"Did you get my letter?"
Oh, sailor boy, you are so busted. And he obviously realizes this, too, because he turns a little so that I cannot see his face. "Yeah," he says, his voice tight. "Look, can we go talk in my office?"
"Oh, of course. Wasn't last night grand?" she babbles as they walk away. I can hear her voice carry across the bullpen. "The music could've been a bit more modern, but music is music, right? I was so exhausted....."
I will not be jealous.
*
C'mon Harm, pick up the phone. I've been calling him for ages. And this is my third time at the phone. One more ring and I think I'll bash the phone into his head. Where is he? He said he'd be home, and now he's not?
I put down the phone, knowing exactly what he's doing. He's with his Toothpick. His Toothpick. I shiver and wrap my arms around myself. After the fiasco with Mic and Renee, things have been hard for me. Things like this. It's not as if I cannot get myself a date. That's not what I'm after; I don't want a random guy for a random date. I want a certain guy, who happens to be out of my grasp. Like a cookie jar on the top shelf, he's out of bounds, too far above me.
I also happen to be going insane. I hadn't expected to go to work that morning and have my heart wrenched out. It's painful. I'm insanely jealous. I'm so jealous that my chest hurts at the thought and it feels as if a brick is sitting in my head. This feeling had been absent for such a long time. And now it's back again.
I reach out for the phone when suddenly it rings, making me jump. It's kind of like when you're toasting something - you only jump three feet in the air when you're staring directly at the toaster. I grab the receiver after the second ring and click it on. "Hello?"
"Ma'am?"
I roll my eyes and smile wanly. "It's Mac, Harriet."
"Of course - Mac. Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for a bit this Saturday. Unless you've got other plans...."
I laugh. Me? Plans? The two words have not been used together recently. "Sure I'll come. Who else is coming?" I ask casually.
"Oh, you know," Harriet says, chuckling, "the gang. Sturgis, the Admiral, Harm -"
"And...Diane?" I cringe - could I be more obvious?
"If she wants." I can see her smile from this side of the phone. "So you'll be here around seven, ma'am?"
I don't bother correcting her. "I'll be there." I listen to the empty line for a moment, rather dreading the fact that Harm will be there with his Barbie.
*
Quite suddenly I'm overpowered by some scent. Diane's scent. It carries from the bathroom all the way to the kitchen. Damn, I'm going to need a gas mask. And the windows will be down on the way to Harriet's. I take another whiff of the air. Mac never wears that much.
Thinking of Mac, I remember that she'll be at Harriet's. Which is good, because I'll need to get away from Diane. And her Scent of Death. I check myself in the mirror, flicking a piece of lint off my sweater. Diane emerges from the bathroom, looking rather attractive. She's got her hair piled somehow so that it falls down her neck. Amazing. How do women do that?
Diane smiles at me and slides over, wrapping her arms around my waist. I look down at her red head. She's taking our...thing...quickly. "Ready to go?" I ask, leaning away from her to grab my keys.
"Mmm, hmm," she says, her eyes sort of glazed over. Diane lets go of my waist and follows me out the door.
Twenty minutes later we're standing on Harriet's porch. Laughter and chat can be heard from within. I ring the doorbell, and not too long after Harriet opens the door. "Commander! I didn't think you were coming!"
I smile, partly at Harriet and partly at Mac, who just stepped over. "He's always late."
"I'm fashionably late," I reply. Harriet opens the door wider for Diane and I to step in. Diane greets Harriet while I sidle over to Mac. Compared to Diane, I can't smell her from where I stand. Being a Rabb and lacking most common sense when it comes to social talk, I search for something to say. Unfortunately, my mind is blank. "Is Little AJ here?"
"No," Mac says, "he's with a babysitter." She gives me a sidelong glance. I grin at her, then ask if she's seen Sturgis. She points off to the kitchen area and I leave her to find him. By this time, Diane is in the corner or my mind. Sturgis is leaning against the counter, talking to Bud and sipping a glass of wine. I lean over next to him, trying not to interrupt.
"Hey Harm," Sturgis says when he finishes his conversation with Bud.
"Hey," I reply. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
Sturgis frowns slightly. "Sure," he says, slowly, dragging the word on his tongue. We step away from the counter and edge to the corner. "What's up?"
"Diane."
"You brought her here?"
"I didn't have a choice," I snapped. "Not to sound rude-" and here Sturgis gives me an incredulous look, "-but when is she leaving?"
"Next weekend."
I sigh with relief, but then Sturgis adds, "She'll be visiting once every week. She has meetings with the Ballet Company of D.C."
I swear under my breath. Sturgis gives me a grin, then sways away. I glower after him. What an evil and sly man. He should wear a sign warning people, before someone gets hurt by his insane ideas. The madman.
For the next half hour, I mingle with people, occasionally having Diane attached to me. At one point we gather around the living room to listen to idle chatter. Diane starts off when the Admiral asks her what she does. With her by my side, I listen to the babble of dance talk. I would have been interested if it had not been for Mac.
She stands across from me, leaning against the window pane. Her eyes are directed at Diane, but her thoughts aren't. I don't know how I know this. Perhaps after being friends for so long, we've come to the point where we can read each others' faces. For instance, Mac's is drawn, and her lips are pushed out slightly. Her facade has slipped, showing a bit of the emotion below.
Now her eyes travel across the faces in the room, retracting their attention from Diane. Not that I blame her. She watches as Sturgis places his hand on Bobbi's shoulder. Then she looks at the Admiral and Meredith, sitting comfortably on the couch. Then Bud and Harriet. And I suddenly know what she's thinking.
We're the loners of the group. I look to my right, glancing over Diane, then look back at Mac. Her gaze is on me, intense and yet empty. I can't read it; her facade is back up again. Suddenly she slips around the couch and leaves the room quietly, so that no one but me notices. I lean over to Diane. "I'll be back - need a drink." She nods and continues talking, not the least perturbed.
I follow Mac's footsteps, but she's no where in sight. I wander into the kitchen and still no Mac. Then I notice that the back porch has the light on, and in a shadow of that light is the figure of my Marine. I smirk at my own thoughts as I walk out into the sultry spring air. She stands on the bottom stair, her head tilted back to the heavens. Diane is no match for Mac in terms of appearance. Mac is just beautiful naturally.
I walk up behind her quietly, even though I know she heard me open the door. "Feeling like a fish on land?"
Her body shakes with a slight chuckle. "How'd you know?" she asks, softly.
"A lucky guess. I feel the same way."
Mac spins to face me, her brown eyes wide. "You've got Diane?"
I shake my head, wondering how Mac brings light upon things I hadn't noticed or felt. "Diane means nothing to me."
"Then why are you tormenting her like that?"
"Tormenting?" I sputter.
"She's head-over-heels in love with you, Harm!"
I gape at Mac. Diane? In love with me? That is the most absurd thing I've heard, but I don't tell Mac, because Mac's usually right when it comes to that sort of thing. I sigh and look outward. "Well then I'll stop it."
"You'll stop love?" Mac says, laughing. "That's not easy."
And suddenly, I have no idea what I was thinking with Diane. I never should have seen her after that one night. I should have told her off about the letter and booted her away from my office the following morning. I shouldn't have brought her here, where she's caused more trouble than happiness. Right now I want Diane as far from me as possible.
And Mac as close to me as possible. I look her dead on in her eyes. "No, it's not easy." If I screw this up, too, I think I'll be the world's biggest failure. We've been waiting for seven years, pulling and pushing the other. I think that's enough pushing. I take a step closer, closing some of the distance between us.
"Harm...."
"Diane's not who I'm interested in."
Mac rolls her eyes. "Did you lose your ability to say 'no' when she came to you?"
"No," I repeat, and we both smile. Her smile is wonderful and brilliant. "I couldn't shake her off, Mac."
She opens her mouth to protest and scold me some more, but I place my finger on her lips, effectively shutting her up. "Let's not argue about it now. I'm not letting you make me mess this up again." Mac's lips twitch as she smiles slightly.
"I'm not about to let you mess this up, either."
"You-"
"Harm," she interrupts.
"Yeah?"
"Shut up," she says, and bends my head down. We kiss, but unlike the other times we've collided, Mac and I kiss without the fear of telling secrets. Her arms wrap around my neck and I pull her closer, never wanting her to let go. I push her into me, needing her, not being able to hold her all at once. What seems like minutes is over in a few moments, but it's enough.
"You should go tell Diane, before she finds out." Mac's eyes sparkle with what I hope is delight.
Maybe Diane was helpful, after all.
*
Back in the living room, the talk has died and each is left to do whatever he or she pleases. Sturgis catches Harriet by the arm and pulls her to a window. He grins, catlike, and says, "And you had doubts?"
"Doubts?" Harriet asks, puzzled. Sturgis, still grinning, points to the widow and toward the dimly lit back porch. There Harriet catches sight of something she probably shouldn't have, laughs, and draws the blinds. "You think they'll thank you at their wedding?"
Sturgis laughs, too. "They'd better."
Oh, many, many sorrys to pass out. I rushed the end terribly, but I had a sort of writer's block for this particular story, and I didn't have enough time, and I really needed to get it out! So, once again, my apologies, but I hope you enjoyed this small ficlet nonetheless. There were many problems with it (characterization, plot, etc), and yet you stuck it out. Congrats. Also, sorry to all dancers who were offended. I myself am a dancer, and didn't find it offensive, but I meant no harm. Thank you to all who reviewed; I ended up making more cookies than I thought.
Stay around for another fic that invaded my thoughts when I was in the process of finishing this one up. Gah! Plot bunnies!
(Brownies this time, for those who review. ^_^ )
