A/N: These are a series of little(r) vignettes inspired by Taylor Swift's album Red. There is a part for every song on the album (I just used the original, non-deluxe version as I know those songs better than the extra tracks or the additional ones on the "Taylor's Version." Most of these will be Harm and Mac stories, but I'm throwing in some other characters, namely Trish and Grandma Sarah, and even René Peterson. I'm reaching a bit in some of these songs, but oh well. I'm dedicating these stories to someone who says she hates Taylor Swift but deep down I know she's kidding herself. No, just kidding. She hates Taylor :) Hee hee. Honestly, I'm surprised I like her so much. So do my girls—you'll often find us cruising down the road singing our hearts out along with her.
And now I give you Red, the four-sided JAG version.
RED
Side A
Track 1: State of Grace
January 1997
I've only known him a month, even less, and already I'm…I don't know what I am. To say I have a crush on him or that I'm smitten with him—those terms are too simple and juvenile. To say I love him—well that's just too soon to say, isn't it? No, I don't love him. Or do I?
Fuck, I don't know. All I know is that I never saw him coming. One minute I'm waiting outside the White House Rose Garden for the JAG himself and the next I'm telling my sordid life story to a tall, lanky navy commander in the desert. This same navy commander had already risked his career for me and then he risked his life by jumping onto the landing skid of a helicopter, all to save me and my criminal uncle. He burst into my life like a cannonball and then he rapidly stripped me of all the armor I'd built around myself and my heart.
Now, here we sit, alone in his bedroom. No, we're not about to make love. We're just sitting in the only available space in his apartment enjoying the meal I brought as a peace offering. Yes, we've already fought. He hurt me, and I honestly don't know if I was hurt because what he did was rather shitty, or if I'm hurt because I never thought he would do that to me, as if our acquaintanceship was something special, or if I just feel dumb for falling for his little ricochet line. There is, of course, a part of me (a large part) that wonders why I am offering him a peace offering when I conducted myself with utmost professionalism. Maybe I just wanted to see how far he's come with his loft renovation (not far), or maybe it's because I already hate being on the outs with him.
I see in Harm someone who could become my closest confidant, my best friend. I've never had someone like that. Yes, there was Eddie, but he and I bonded over the collective misery of our lives and the fact that he had an older cousin who could get us booze. We did talk; he knew the sordid tale of my mother leaving me with her abusive husband, but neither of us was capable of building the other up. We couldn't even do that for ourselves. Harm, on the other hand…
He's different. He didn't grow up like I did. I know his naval aviator father has been MIA since ejecting over Vietnam in 1969. I know his mother remarried several years later, and her current husband is a vice president with Chrysler. Harm grew up rather privileged. His stepfather is wealthy, he got into the Naval Academy, and then he became a Top Gun fighter pilot. On the surface, Harm's led a charmed life-if you forget that he lost his father at such a young age.
I, however, have not led a charmed life. Like I said, my mother abandoned me when I was fifteen, on my birthday, no less. I'd been verbally abused by my father since day one and then I became an alcoholic just like him, almost died in the crash that killed Eddie, and then dragged myself out of the hole of self-destruction with the help of my Uncle Matt. I became a marine and then a lawyer, and then I met Harm.
Harm, who put his life and career on the line for me and my uncle within days of meeting me. Harm, who comforted me when I raged about the betrayal, yes, betrayal of my uncle. The man is the only family I have and yet he did something that would most assuredly land him in Leavenworth. Harm, whose smile makes me quiver inside despite what I told him on the bumpy ride to Red Rock Mesa.
Oh, dear. I think I am in love with Harmon Rabb, Jr.
Harm says something to me and he has to repeat it because I've been thinking so deeply about him. That makes him laugh; for once, I'm the one who is distracted and he has to bring me back to the present. It's then that he leans over and swipes the corner of my mouth with his thumb. "Ketchup," he says, then grins. God, I just want to kiss him. I want him to take me right here, and though I sense if I offered myself to him at this moment, he'd oblige, I won't pursue it. There's something too special about us. That doesn't mean I can't brush the little bit of salad dressing he allows himself off his lip. I raise my hand…and oh baby Jesus, he just kissed my finger.
Harm looks just as shocked as I am. We stare at each other for several racing heartbeats. He leans forward…
I lean forward.
The phone rings…
Thank God.
We really aren't ready for this. Harm smiles sheepishly at me and I give him a shy grin. He lets the machine answer and of course, it's Bud. Something tells me Bud is going to interrupt a lot of things with Harm and me.
The two of us return to our meal and when we're finished and it's time for me to go, he walks me to the door. Impulsively, I reach out and hug him. He's quick to return my embrace, and it feels so good, so right, so real. Eventually, I draw away and gaze up at him.
This is Harm. He's kind; he's beautiful. I know he's not a saint, and neither am I. I know I've done plenty that is wrong, but this new connection we've found…I must have done something to deserve it. It's brave and it's wild, and it's like the hands of fate have brought us together.
We smile once again at each other, and then I pull open the door. Something passes between us, something amazing. I feel like we are in a state of grace, and whatever we have to go through in the future, I know it will be a worthwhile fight to keep us there. The End
Track 2: Red
August 1999
It's been three months since he left. Three long months since he hugged me goodbye and walked out of JAG, and it still hurts.
It shouldn't hurt. I mean, we were never a couple; he was involved with Jordan when he left and for all I know he's involved with her still. From what he told me, though, it sounds like she took his leaving to fly even worse than I did.
Of course, it doesn't matter if he is or isn't involved with Jordan Parker. The only thing that matters is that he's not involved with me. We do email occasionally, but the messages are brief and lacking anything that speaks of the affection I have for him.
With a sigh, I return to my packing. I really don't have to be doing this; I always keep a fully stocked go bag in my car, but I have a little time before I need to get to Andrews. There is just no way I could wait there or here at home and not do something.
You see, within twenty-four hours I'm going to see Harm. I'm going to his carrier on an investigation, and I'm nervous, giddy, happy, and actually a little scared. What if we've lost the friendship we forged in the last two and a half years? I once thought our friendship would be one for the ages, but now, with the lack of communication and my reaction to him going to fly, I just don't know. I haven't even told him I was promoted.
Why did things happen this way? I scream to myself.
My packing now finished, I sit next to my bag on my bed. I have a few minutes before my cab gets here, so, lucky me, I have time to think. I find myself writing a list, the list of Harm, in my head.
Item #1: I'm in love with Harm. I have been since the first month we met. Loving him feels like I'm flying, like I'm racing, and yet I'm always running out of sky or road. Loving him now seems like such a dead end, but I can't just change my mind about it. I've already jumped off that bridge and there's no going back.
Item #2: Losing Harm to the air and sea has been one of the most painful experiences of my life. The navy blue I've always associated with him has turned into the dull grey of sadness and hurt and forgetting him is and always will be impossible.
Item #3: Touching Harm made me realize that anything and everything I've ever wanted is within his six-foot four frame. It was standing right in front of me from the beginning, but I could never bring myself to cross that line. There have been precious few times that I've been in his arms. The first was when he was comforting me after the whole Uncle Matt affair. The second time was an embrace at his door after we had dinner together on his bed. We almost kissed that night, just like we almost kissed in Colombia. Frankly, I should have just thrown caution to the wind and ripped those overrated dress whites from his beautiful body and taken him against the door.
The next time he held me in his arms was the night we spent on the run from those crazy poachers. I was hurting so bad, so bad I was in tears though I tried to hide them. It wasn't just the physical pain of that errant gun shot; it was the trauma of of being attacked with an attempt at rape followed by me stabbing him. His blood was still on me, and I kept seeing flashes of his dying eyes. Harm noticed, however, and then he gently took me in his arms, whispering words of comfort until I fell into a restless slumber.
#4: Sometimes I regret ever meeting Harm because I feel more for him than anyone I've ever known, and yet he's not mine. It hurts. Some nights I just stare out the window and cry and I hate that I've been reduced to this.
#5: I've memorized Harm. By that I mean I remember every smile of his, the flyboy, the sheepish, the little half-smile, the smirk that used to make me so mad sometimes. It wasn't always smooth sailing with him. We fought and argued, sometimes over cases, sometimes because he just pissed me off, and I don't think either of us actually won a fight.
My list now complete, my internal clock tells me it's time to meet my cab. I grab my things and head downstairs, and then I'm whisked away. On the one hand, it seems like forever until I'm stepping down from the helicopter onto the deck of Harm's carrier, but on the other it seems like no time at all. As soon as I'm steady on my feet, I scan the area for Harm's tall frame. Could he possibly be here to meet me?
"Mac?" I turn as a voice rises above the din of the deck.
"Harm!"
I'm suddenly swept up in his arms and he holds me tightly. When he finally loosens hold, we grin at each other, and he moves to sling his arm about my shoulders. He escorts me inside and then helps me remove my gear.
"I missed you!" I blurt out but instead of his cocky flyboy grin, he gives me a soft smile of affection.
"I missed you too, Colonel," he says softly, tapping the silver oak leaf on my collar. He actually sounds proud of me.
I feel myself blushing. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it before."
"That's okay, Mac. How've you been? How's JAG?
"I'm fine enough, and JAG isn't the same without you," I tell him honestly. He looks sad for a moment, but then he embraces me again. I wonder at that; we're both in uniform but then again, no one seems to be paying attention to us. When he moves back again, my eyes are drawn to his like a magnet. His pupils are widened, making his eyes a dark midnight blue. He wants to kiss me, I think to myself, and I know I'm right as much as I know my own name.
Now isn't the time, of course, so we smile shyly, knowingly, at each other. There's an aura of desire about us, and in a sea of green and brown flight suits and uniforms, the color of it is red. Burning red. The End
Track 3: Treacherous
September 1998
"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" I ask as Mac opens the door to her jeep. The bruises from our adventure at the Sudanese embassy are becoming more prominent and I have to resist reaching out to touch them.
"Yeah, Harm. I'm fine."
"Well, it's just that you almost went down on me before we left the embassy."
Mac raises an eyebrow at me. "I tripped, Harm."
"You were unsteady. I had to support you all the way down the stairs."
Mac's response is to smile slyly. "But did you? Really? Maybe I just wanted you to hold me."
"Mac—" Suddenly I realize what she just said.
She's flirting with me.
Wow. I've been waiting for years for her to flirt with me. Well, she flirts with me, but that's only after I flirt with her first. This is the first time she's initiated it.
I'm so floored by this turn of events that I'm struck dumb, and it takes me several seconds to see that Mac has become uncertain. She looks embarrassed and I feel like a heel. She blushes and turns away from me, but before she can slide into her jeep, I gently grip her arms and turn her around.
"Well, maybe I tripped you, because I wanted to hold you." I give her my 'no one can resist me' grin and her blush deepens. I think for a moment she's just going to roll her eyes and back away, but then she steps closer to me. She raises herself up and suddenly her lips are close to mine, but I resist bringing them closer together; I can keep my control as long as they don't touch.
Mac's hand is now on my chest, her fingers slipping in between the buttons of my shirt. "Haaarm," she breathes.
"Yes, Mac?" My voice is low and rough, and it's taking all the control I have not to pull her against me and have my way with her. We have to be careful; the admiral is still inside, and anyone could see us here in the JAG parking lot.
"I was so worried about you tonight." Her breath is warm against me cheek and it isn't long before I'm nuzzling her with my nose.
"Why, Sarah?" Her given name just slips out of my mouth, and I feel her shiver. "I was fine. It was you that was in trouble." She starts to shake her head but then shrugs.
"Yeah, I guess I was."
"I," I continue. "Was scared for you." Mac then wraps her arms around me.
"I knew you would save me." I return her embrace, holding her tightly as I remember hearing them hit her as I spoke to Ambassador Moshak on the phone. I was ready to kill the son of a bitch.
"You did?" I whisper.
"Yeah." She kisses me behind my ear. "Thank you for saving me tonight."
Honestly, she rather saved herself, but I guess I did keep that vial of lethality from hitting the floor.
I turn my head to kiss her forehead. "You're welcome." I double down by giving her a peck on the lips and she gasps.
We're in dangerous territory here. Treacherous territory. I don't know exactly what's going on here, but I know I'm ready to do whatever she wants me to just to keep her hands on me. I should just walk away; I know this, but I'm getting swept away by everything that's gone down in the last couple of minutes. I want her alone with me so I can kiss her properly.
I want her alone, period. Every daydream I've ever had of her floods my mind, and I find myself asking her to stay with me. Her pupils dilate, and then she's telling breathily to come home with her. She doesn't have to ask twice. I'd go anywhere with her.
A moment later, I'm behind her as she drives out of the lot. Our headlights shine out into the night, and it hits me what a treacherous slope we're on. Are we being reckless? If we stay on this path, I know how the night will end. Are we ready for that?
My heart pounds in my chest. I'm nervous and there's a voice in my head that shouts at me to abort this mission. I should abort this mission. It isn't safe. It isn't planned.
But I don't give a damn. Not being safe is worth the drive as I follow her home, and before long I'm in her arms. She leads me to her bedroom and then we are skin to skin, falling down the treacherous slope of love. The End
Track 4: I Knew You Were Trouble
September 2002
What the hell was I thinking? One look at him as he strode in the room, the reluctant star of my navy recruitment commercial, and I knew he was trouble. That didn't stop me from eventually going to dinner with him, and then later actually dating the man.
Lord, he flew me to places I'd never been, but never on his little plane. I suppose he saved that for her.
I once called him my miracle, and when the alliterative Mic and Mac were about to get married, I thought I'd have my miracle.
Nope. He was already taken when I met him. Taken by her. Taken by the woman currently on his arm. I hear they got married a respectable six months after her fiancé left and he dumped me. No, wait a minute. I dumped him. I can at least take some satisfaction in that, but let's face it, our relationship was already null and void before our first date.
Yup, he was trouble, and shame on me for falling for him anyway. He never loved me. It's sad to admit, but I was rather hoping they'd get together only to have it blow up in their faces. Who would care then if he didn't love me if he didn't lover her? Maybe he was incapable of loving anyone?
Another look at them tells me, though, that not being in love is not a problem for them. The way they look at each other, the way he is constantly touching her, and the way he kisses her every chance he gets tell me they are so in love with each other they don't even notice their flight being called.
Fools.
Okay, they're actually kinda cute together.
I bet he's still trouble though. Harm couldn't be anything else, and Mac will have her work cut out for her.
I'm about to head for my own gate when they both notice me at the same time. I figure, what the hell, I'll go say hi. They both look slightly uncomfortable, and I take fiendish delight in grinning at them as I head straight for the loving couple.
"Hello, René," Mac says tentatively. Harm's too nervous to speak apparently. I laugh inwardly.
"Hi, you two. Where you headed to?" I ask, though I already know since they're once again calling for Flight 3505 to San Diego. They must be visiting Harm's parents. I met his mother once; Trish was great, but I suspect she wasn't thrilled I wasn't a tall brunette marine colonel. Ah, well.
Harm clears his throat. "Um, San Diego. To see my mom and…and…"
"Frank," finishes Mac. She's obviously less nervous than he is.
"How've you been, René?" she asks. I tell her I'm doing great because I actually am. I'm leaving for a little paradise myself.
"I see congratulations are in order," I say, motioning toward Mac's round stomach. "Do you know what you're having?" That seems to be the question everyone asks of a pregnant woman.
Mac smiles and rubs her belly. I used to call her that 'mousy marine' but honestly, she's rather adorable, all glowing and in love. "It's a boy. Harm the third."
Harm shakes his head. "Mac, we talked about that. No. No Harm the third."
"Of course, dear." Mac actually winks at me, and I know she's going to win that argument. "And we'd better get on board before they close the doors on us." She holds out her hand to me, but I pull her in for hug. She's obviously surprised by that, but not as much as Harm is when I embrace him.
"It was good to see you both," I say with a smile.
"Really?" Harm asks incredulously. I have to laugh.
"Yes, Harm. Really. Mac, you look wonderful. Keep Harm out of trouble, okay?"
Mac chuckles. "I'll certainly try."
"Goodbye, Harm."
"'Bye, René. Take care."
"You too, and Harm, they just gave the last call for your flight."
"Oh my god!" He quickly throws his arm around Mac's shoulders and ushers her away, throwing a goodbye over his shoulder. They make it just in time, and then I start walking to my own gate. I'm halfway there when my cell rings and I smile when I see who's calling."
"Hey," I greet him, and my heart speeds up.
"Hey, luv. How's my best girl?"
"Wonderful. I'm on the way to my gate and I should be in the air in an hour. I just wish the flight wasn't so long."
"You and me both, beautiful."
He and I chat as I walk the rest of the way to my gate and as I set my things down, I start to tell him about meeting Harm and Mac. "Guess who I ran into just now?"
"Hmmm, that one actor you like?"
"No. Although he did act for me once."
"That's a pretty broad field there, luv. Put me out of my misery and tell me."
"Harm and Mac."
"Really? How are they?"
"Pretty damn good by the looks of it. Mac's pregnant."
"That's wonderful! Do they know if it's a boy or girl yet?"
"A boy."
My love chuckles. "Oooh, double trouble for Sarah then."
"You got that right. But she looked very happy." I wonder if that will bother him, but I'm very quickly assured that it doesn't.
"That's great. Everyone should be as happy as we are."
He's right. We are happy and if everyone had one tenth of our happiness, wars would end, and the earth would be a utopia of love.
"Hey, I gotta go," he says after we chat for a few more minutes. "Have a safe flight, luv. I'll see you when you get here. I love you, René."
"I love you too, Mic."
We hang up and I slip my phone back into my bag, grinning to myself. Yes, I knew Harm was trouble the moment we met, but if I hadn't ignored the impulse to run, I would have never met Mic. Somehow, we found each other again after the end of our previous relationships, and we found all the love we missed when we were with Mac and Harm.
Sometimes trouble is worth it. The End
End Side A
