AUTHOR: shipperchick (shipperchick_42@yahoo.com)
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of 'JAG' including Harmon Rabb Jr., Sarah Mackenzie, Sturgis Turner, A.J. Chegwidden, and all others named here belong to David Bellisario, NBC, and CBS. No profit is being made from this endeavor.
RATING: PG for language
KEYWORDS: vignette, Harm/Mac (mild) angst
ARCHIVE: My site () and The PPoS (). All others please ask.
SPOILERS:
Specifically - Capital Crime, A Tangled Webb I & II, Shifting Sands. Obliquely - JAG-A-Thon, Lifeline, Boomerang I & II, Adrift I & II.
SUMMARY: Sturgis, acting as our very own surrogate Mary Sue, gives a certain Marine a talking to. Set immediately after the events of 'Shifting Sands'.
THANKS: To TVTome () for the episode names, and to Mel and Jenn for their fostering of my righteous indignation.
NOTES: All ye who expect 'shipper resolution here, . well, prepare to be disappointed. A rough and preliminary bandaid for the mess DPB has landed us 'shippers in now.
***********
Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie stared down at her feet, wiggling her toes in vain. Passion Purple - a feisty color guaranteed to perk up even the glummest of moods - a pint of Double Fudge Brownie sitting empty on the coffee table. and she felt no better. This was bad.
Mac wiggled her toes again, sighing and propping her head on her bent knees. Glum, glum, glum. And on top of that, she noted with a grimace, she was starving. Ice cream was a PMS victim's best friend, but not a very filling dinner. *What to eat? What to eat?*
A few silent minutes later, the Marine was knocked out of her deep and insightful contemplations by a series of sharp raps sounding through her apartment. She made her way to the door with a puzzled tilt to her head, peering out the peephole curiously. Upon seeing who was on the other side, Mac quickly set about undoing the locks and opening the door, her mouth stretching in a wide smile of greeting.
"Sturgis! To what do I owe this honor?"
Revealing the pizza box and grocery bag he'd hidden behind his back, Sturgis Turner returned her smile with a grin of his own.
"I'm guessing you haven't had the energy or time to go shopping, and anything in your fridge has long passed the point of edible, so I thought I'd bring over some chow and some company. Up for it?"
Mac chuckled, her teeth gleaming in the dim light of the hallway. Opening the door wider, she waved the handsome Commander, still dressed in his uniform, into the confines of her apartment.
"You should know by now that a Marine refusing food is no Marine at all. C'mon in, Commander, make yourself at home."
A bit of a bounce returned to Mac's step as she wandered into her kitchen, unearthing plates and napkins while her new-found savior arranged his gifts on the coffee table. Hurrying over, Mac wasted no time in falling upon the proffered slices; pepperoni and mushroom for her, buffalo chicken for him. For a good few minutes, a comfortable silence reigned, broken only by the sounds of chewing and the occasional gulp of iced tea.
A little while later, with Mac still working her way methodically through her fourth slice, Turner groaned and sat back, stomach full to bursting. He found himself staring intensely at the mercurial woman sitting next to him, happily engrossed in simple things. for the moment.
Another few minutes passed before, with an inward sigh to shore up courage, Sturgis broached the topic that had brought him to Mac's door. "So, Mac. want to tell me the harrowing tale of your time down in the Chaco Boreal with our favorite adrenaline junkie?"
Mac shot an amused sideways glance at Sturgis, her mouth too full of cheese- smeared dough to attempt a vocal answer. A few hard swallows later, the contented Marine surfaced for air. After taking a long grateful gulp of her iced tea, Mac finally turned her attention to the man waiting patiently by her side.
"Missing your old glory days of adventure that much, Commander Turner? You didn't get enough of an earful with the rest of JAG today?"
The regular gang - Harriet, Bud, Tiner, Mattoni, Imes -- along with a few new faces -- had all gathered round to hear Harm's amusing - and drastically edited - version of events prior to their meeting with the Admiral. Remembering the events that had followed that almost-carefree reunion in the bullpen, the warm taste of pizza suddenly soured on Mac's tongue. Forcing a smile, she arched an eyebrow at her dinner companion.
"So, what's the deal, Sturgis? Looking for proof that Harm was telling tall tales, and digging for blackmail material? Sorry to disappoint. for once, Flyboy's ego stayed under wraps. everything he said was strictly legit."
Sturgis chuckled perfunctorily in response, but his gaze quickly became serious again. Searching her eyes, he seemed to find what he was looking for in their poorly masked depths. Gently, he reached out a hand, strong fingers covering her own smaller digits.
"Mac. Sarah. I know that something went down while you were there. Something that had nothing to do with the op - something with you and Harm. You guys. you're off. Want to talk about it?"
Searching the warm chocolate eyes that met her gaze straight on, Mac sighed, her eyes shifting down and to the side as she contemplated his offer. Then, remembering how their odd and sometimes uneven friendship had began - her inadvertent admission of love, his oftentimes bewildered attempts to understand the strange relationship between her and a certain pilot -- she nodded slowly.
Haltingly, pausing often to gaze off into the middle distance and recall the vivid textures and colors that would always be with her, she told him of their days and nights in the Chaco Boreal - all of it, beginning to end. From the first glimpse she'd got of Harm that had sent a sweet rush of euphoria through her being, to his hostility and jealousy, to that final bitter conversation under the stars, when Mac had made the decision, cut the emotional cord. and tried since then to ignore the equally emotional wounds she'd caused. She left nothing out, including the awkward stiff politeness of their trip back home and their interaction since then, and the conversation she'd overheard on her second trip to visit Clay - a conversation that had sent her running home to the ineffectual comfort of Passion Purple and Double Fudge Brownie.
Finally, Mac was talked out. Her heartbeat thudded heavily in her head, marking time like a grandfather clock's sonorous tones as she waited for a response. any response.
"Mac." Sturgis fought internally for several seconds, searching for a delicate way to put his thoughts into words. Sighing, he conceded defeat and decided that, for now, blunt was better. ". are you sure about this? Because from where I'm sitting. it sounds like you've made one big-ass mistake, and you've dug yourself quite a hole this time."
Shocked, Mac could only gaze at Sturgis in disbelief. Whatever she'd expected, from rueful acceptance to wholehearted support, it had never in her wildest dreams included condemnation. Her words, when they came, were uninflected, giving nothing away.
"Care to explain yourself there, Commander?"
Sturgis' response was immediate, as if he'd been waiting for the opening.
"Mac, you explained it yourself, just then. When you talked about Harm flying for the CIA - leaving D.C., leaving us, leaving you behind. don't tell me that didn't hit you like a cannonball to the chest, Marine."
Mac opened her mouth to reply, but no words came. Sturgis left her little time to respond, though, continuing with his train of thought.
"And that leads me to believe. that leads me to *know* that you are not in any way ready to let go of this. thing you have with Harm, Sarah Mackenzie. The look in your eyes right then. you're not a woman that's made peace with this decision, Mac. You've just made it, and decided that hell or high water, you're sticking with it."
Shaking his head ruefully, Sturgis dropped his gaze to his fingers, currently worrying the paper label of his iced tea bottle.
"You're going to use Webb like a club to beat your feelings into submission, maybe even give *him* a little comeuppance at the same time (no need to ask who 'him' referred to) - don't get me wrong, Mac, I see why you'd want to. All I'm saying is, it hasn't worked so well for you so far."
His words brought instant memories of a piercing blue gaze, a warm rolling accent, and a square jaw, gentled whenever that gaze had turned to her. A quick upswelling of the everpresent guilt filled her gut, swiftly replaced by a hot surge of anger.
"You don't. you don't have the right to talk to me like this. We're not good enough friends for *this*, Commander." Her words were sharp, bitten off in displeasure and accompanied by a hostile stare.
Sighing, Sturgis returned his bottle to the coffee table and turned to face her, meeting the hostility in her eyes head on.
"You're right, Mac, I'm not. But unfortunately, you've only got one friend good enough to talk to. and he's certainly not going to take you to task for this. And I'm sorry, but I'm not going to sit by and watch the two bravest people I know indulge in the biggest act of cowardice of their lives. Again."
Instead of diffusing the anger that was palpable in the air, his words acted like kindling, setting alight an indignant blaze in Mac's eyes.
"Look, *Turner*, I don't know what you think you know about me and Harm, but I know from that statement that what you do know is exactly nothing. I have *never* been afraid to lay it on the line with Harm. I just got tired of waiting for the same courtesy. It's pretty damn obvious by now that he just doesn't feel the same way about me as I do. I *did* about him. What the hell's wrong with me accepting that, and trying to move past this mess, and stop loving a man that obviously doesn't love me?!"
Now it was Sturgis' turn to stare in disbelief. He'd discount the words as a rationalization, if it weren't for the utter conviction with which they were uttered.
"Doesn't love you? Hell, Mac, the man gave up his career for you, without a second thought. He ran roughshod over a dozen agencies and about a hundred laws to get to you. If that doesn't tell you how he feels, what in God's name will?"
Mac's reaction was as instantaneous as it was fiery. She'd formulated the arguments in this particular debate right before That Night, all the pros and cons and permutations of a certain Navy Commander's actions, and had come to several undeniable conclusions.
"You're wrong, Sturgis. Dead wrong. He thought he was doing what he always does - swooping in to save the day and then swooping back out to take up his place like nothing's happened, nothing's changed. He didn't expect the Admiral to put his paperwork through - you know that. This was supposed to be no-risk for him, a fun little adventure in South America, and then back into the courtroom."
"Mac. he resigned his commission."
Sturgis' words were quiet, but held double the impact for their volume. She flinched at each syllable, at each unwanted truth that she'd buried deep, deep, down below the anger and the hurt. But he was relentless.
"He bucked the Admiral's authority. Chegwidden said 'no', and Harm. Harm said 'To hell with that!' I want you to think about this question seriously Mac. On all of this Earth, whose authority does Harmon Rabb Jr. respect more than any other man alive?"
Unable to breathe, unable to meet his gaze and the terrible weight she found there, Mac could barely whisper the words.
"The Admiral."
"Yes Mac, that's right. Now what exactly does it tell you that you are the one thing that could cause Harm to metaphorically spit on this man. this father figure's. authority?"
His words were gentle, but precise as a surgeon's scalpel, cutting away at the warm cloth of indignation she'd cloaked herself in. Standing abruptly, Mac became a restless whirlwind, her hands shaking slightly as she fidgeted her way across the living room. She came to rest at the mantel, staring sightlessly at the framed photos of Chloe, her uncle, and. Harm. Her tone when she responded was bewildered and aching, showing nothing of the cool reserve and calm humor that had stood her in good stead since That Night.
"Then why can't he just *tell* me? I'm always putting myself out there, Sturgis, and he's always backing away from what I offer. What does that tell you about his feelings?"
"Did you really put yourself out there, Mac? Was it you offering to take the next logical step, to talk about things and assess the options? Or was it you offering an ultimatum? All or nothing? I know you Mac, you're an 'all or nothing' girl. but I know. and I think you know. that Harm isn't built like that, at least when it comes to women."
His tone became progressively softer, his entire demeanor reflecting Sturgis' discomfort at discussing his friend. his best friend. in such intimate detail. Even if it was with the woman Harm loved. Mac's sharp eyes, even dulled with tears, picked up on the small changes in his body language and interpreted them correctly. Softly, she pointed out the obvious truth.
"What kind of shot do we have, Sturgis, if we can't even start. whatever. without someone intervening? If Harm needs you to interpret for him, and run interference. how long do you think this would last?"
"Mac. I'm not telling you that Harm is the only option you've got. Hell, you know better than that. What I am telling you is that locking your feelings for him in a box isn't going to work this time any better than it has the last two. You've tried starting over, you've tried letting go. And using another man as an anesthetic. you've been down this road before Marine. It's a dead end."
The silence was deafening, resounding through the space between them until they both inwardly begged for a release.
"I don't have a magic bullet for you here, Mac. I'm just saying that in the end, it's not about what's sensible and what you can pull off. It's about playing the hand you've been dealt. I can't tell you how to do that, but I can tell you that neither of you is going to be able to move on until you've dealt with what you've got right now."
Unable to tear her gaze from Sturgis' warm, understanding, damning eyes, Mac's shoulders slumped. Suddenly, the façade of good cheer and determined maturity melted away, leaving behind the same Mac that had struggled with feelings for his best buddy for years now. This Mac was hurting, and confused, and no better off than she had been before. but at least this was Sarah Mackenzie, bright and beautiful in her gutsy determination to face life's realities head-on. This was the woman Sturgis remembered, and the woman he'd support through whatever it took to get his two best friends through this.
Returning to the couch, Mac settled bonelessly into its overstuffed depths, reaching absentmindedly for her beverage. Swallowing a bit of the tea, and missing, as always, the hard alcoholic burn that had made decisions so much easier several lifetimes ago, Mac shrugged in acceptance.
"God, Sturgis, what do we do now?"
Her friend grimaced in sympathy. What he wouldn't give for a nice and easy game plan, a quick-fix solution that would finally give his friends the peace and love they so richly deserved. Instead, he was left floundering, without any advice except to say:
"Just play out the hand you've got, Sarah. The rest will take care of itself. one way or another."
She acknowledged the dark undertones behind his words with a rueful twist of her lips. Raising her drink to her mouth again, she offered him the only response she could think of.
"Yeah. One way or another, this thing'll have to play out."
The End ************
Sequel? Probably. as soon as I think one up.
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of 'JAG' including Harmon Rabb Jr., Sarah Mackenzie, Sturgis Turner, A.J. Chegwidden, and all others named here belong to David Bellisario, NBC, and CBS. No profit is being made from this endeavor.
RATING: PG for language
KEYWORDS: vignette, Harm/Mac (mild) angst
ARCHIVE: My site () and The PPoS (). All others please ask.
SPOILERS:
Specifically - Capital Crime, A Tangled Webb I & II, Shifting Sands. Obliquely - JAG-A-Thon, Lifeline, Boomerang I & II, Adrift I & II.
SUMMARY: Sturgis, acting as our very own surrogate Mary Sue, gives a certain Marine a talking to. Set immediately after the events of 'Shifting Sands'.
THANKS: To TVTome () for the episode names, and to Mel and Jenn for their fostering of my righteous indignation.
NOTES: All ye who expect 'shipper resolution here, . well, prepare to be disappointed. A rough and preliminary bandaid for the mess DPB has landed us 'shippers in now.
***********
Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie stared down at her feet, wiggling her toes in vain. Passion Purple - a feisty color guaranteed to perk up even the glummest of moods - a pint of Double Fudge Brownie sitting empty on the coffee table. and she felt no better. This was bad.
Mac wiggled her toes again, sighing and propping her head on her bent knees. Glum, glum, glum. And on top of that, she noted with a grimace, she was starving. Ice cream was a PMS victim's best friend, but not a very filling dinner. *What to eat? What to eat?*
A few silent minutes later, the Marine was knocked out of her deep and insightful contemplations by a series of sharp raps sounding through her apartment. She made her way to the door with a puzzled tilt to her head, peering out the peephole curiously. Upon seeing who was on the other side, Mac quickly set about undoing the locks and opening the door, her mouth stretching in a wide smile of greeting.
"Sturgis! To what do I owe this honor?"
Revealing the pizza box and grocery bag he'd hidden behind his back, Sturgis Turner returned her smile with a grin of his own.
"I'm guessing you haven't had the energy or time to go shopping, and anything in your fridge has long passed the point of edible, so I thought I'd bring over some chow and some company. Up for it?"
Mac chuckled, her teeth gleaming in the dim light of the hallway. Opening the door wider, she waved the handsome Commander, still dressed in his uniform, into the confines of her apartment.
"You should know by now that a Marine refusing food is no Marine at all. C'mon in, Commander, make yourself at home."
A bit of a bounce returned to Mac's step as she wandered into her kitchen, unearthing plates and napkins while her new-found savior arranged his gifts on the coffee table. Hurrying over, Mac wasted no time in falling upon the proffered slices; pepperoni and mushroom for her, buffalo chicken for him. For a good few minutes, a comfortable silence reigned, broken only by the sounds of chewing and the occasional gulp of iced tea.
A little while later, with Mac still working her way methodically through her fourth slice, Turner groaned and sat back, stomach full to bursting. He found himself staring intensely at the mercurial woman sitting next to him, happily engrossed in simple things. for the moment.
Another few minutes passed before, with an inward sigh to shore up courage, Sturgis broached the topic that had brought him to Mac's door. "So, Mac. want to tell me the harrowing tale of your time down in the Chaco Boreal with our favorite adrenaline junkie?"
Mac shot an amused sideways glance at Sturgis, her mouth too full of cheese- smeared dough to attempt a vocal answer. A few hard swallows later, the contented Marine surfaced for air. After taking a long grateful gulp of her iced tea, Mac finally turned her attention to the man waiting patiently by her side.
"Missing your old glory days of adventure that much, Commander Turner? You didn't get enough of an earful with the rest of JAG today?"
The regular gang - Harriet, Bud, Tiner, Mattoni, Imes -- along with a few new faces -- had all gathered round to hear Harm's amusing - and drastically edited - version of events prior to their meeting with the Admiral. Remembering the events that had followed that almost-carefree reunion in the bullpen, the warm taste of pizza suddenly soured on Mac's tongue. Forcing a smile, she arched an eyebrow at her dinner companion.
"So, what's the deal, Sturgis? Looking for proof that Harm was telling tall tales, and digging for blackmail material? Sorry to disappoint. for once, Flyboy's ego stayed under wraps. everything he said was strictly legit."
Sturgis chuckled perfunctorily in response, but his gaze quickly became serious again. Searching her eyes, he seemed to find what he was looking for in their poorly masked depths. Gently, he reached out a hand, strong fingers covering her own smaller digits.
"Mac. Sarah. I know that something went down while you were there. Something that had nothing to do with the op - something with you and Harm. You guys. you're off. Want to talk about it?"
Searching the warm chocolate eyes that met her gaze straight on, Mac sighed, her eyes shifting down and to the side as she contemplated his offer. Then, remembering how their odd and sometimes uneven friendship had began - her inadvertent admission of love, his oftentimes bewildered attempts to understand the strange relationship between her and a certain pilot -- she nodded slowly.
Haltingly, pausing often to gaze off into the middle distance and recall the vivid textures and colors that would always be with her, she told him of their days and nights in the Chaco Boreal - all of it, beginning to end. From the first glimpse she'd got of Harm that had sent a sweet rush of euphoria through her being, to his hostility and jealousy, to that final bitter conversation under the stars, when Mac had made the decision, cut the emotional cord. and tried since then to ignore the equally emotional wounds she'd caused. She left nothing out, including the awkward stiff politeness of their trip back home and their interaction since then, and the conversation she'd overheard on her second trip to visit Clay - a conversation that had sent her running home to the ineffectual comfort of Passion Purple and Double Fudge Brownie.
Finally, Mac was talked out. Her heartbeat thudded heavily in her head, marking time like a grandfather clock's sonorous tones as she waited for a response. any response.
"Mac." Sturgis fought internally for several seconds, searching for a delicate way to put his thoughts into words. Sighing, he conceded defeat and decided that, for now, blunt was better. ". are you sure about this? Because from where I'm sitting. it sounds like you've made one big-ass mistake, and you've dug yourself quite a hole this time."
Shocked, Mac could only gaze at Sturgis in disbelief. Whatever she'd expected, from rueful acceptance to wholehearted support, it had never in her wildest dreams included condemnation. Her words, when they came, were uninflected, giving nothing away.
"Care to explain yourself there, Commander?"
Sturgis' response was immediate, as if he'd been waiting for the opening.
"Mac, you explained it yourself, just then. When you talked about Harm flying for the CIA - leaving D.C., leaving us, leaving you behind. don't tell me that didn't hit you like a cannonball to the chest, Marine."
Mac opened her mouth to reply, but no words came. Sturgis left her little time to respond, though, continuing with his train of thought.
"And that leads me to believe. that leads me to *know* that you are not in any way ready to let go of this. thing you have with Harm, Sarah Mackenzie. The look in your eyes right then. you're not a woman that's made peace with this decision, Mac. You've just made it, and decided that hell or high water, you're sticking with it."
Shaking his head ruefully, Sturgis dropped his gaze to his fingers, currently worrying the paper label of his iced tea bottle.
"You're going to use Webb like a club to beat your feelings into submission, maybe even give *him* a little comeuppance at the same time (no need to ask who 'him' referred to) - don't get me wrong, Mac, I see why you'd want to. All I'm saying is, it hasn't worked so well for you so far."
His words brought instant memories of a piercing blue gaze, a warm rolling accent, and a square jaw, gentled whenever that gaze had turned to her. A quick upswelling of the everpresent guilt filled her gut, swiftly replaced by a hot surge of anger.
"You don't. you don't have the right to talk to me like this. We're not good enough friends for *this*, Commander." Her words were sharp, bitten off in displeasure and accompanied by a hostile stare.
Sighing, Sturgis returned his bottle to the coffee table and turned to face her, meeting the hostility in her eyes head on.
"You're right, Mac, I'm not. But unfortunately, you've only got one friend good enough to talk to. and he's certainly not going to take you to task for this. And I'm sorry, but I'm not going to sit by and watch the two bravest people I know indulge in the biggest act of cowardice of their lives. Again."
Instead of diffusing the anger that was palpable in the air, his words acted like kindling, setting alight an indignant blaze in Mac's eyes.
"Look, *Turner*, I don't know what you think you know about me and Harm, but I know from that statement that what you do know is exactly nothing. I have *never* been afraid to lay it on the line with Harm. I just got tired of waiting for the same courtesy. It's pretty damn obvious by now that he just doesn't feel the same way about me as I do. I *did* about him. What the hell's wrong with me accepting that, and trying to move past this mess, and stop loving a man that obviously doesn't love me?!"
Now it was Sturgis' turn to stare in disbelief. He'd discount the words as a rationalization, if it weren't for the utter conviction with which they were uttered.
"Doesn't love you? Hell, Mac, the man gave up his career for you, without a second thought. He ran roughshod over a dozen agencies and about a hundred laws to get to you. If that doesn't tell you how he feels, what in God's name will?"
Mac's reaction was as instantaneous as it was fiery. She'd formulated the arguments in this particular debate right before That Night, all the pros and cons and permutations of a certain Navy Commander's actions, and had come to several undeniable conclusions.
"You're wrong, Sturgis. Dead wrong. He thought he was doing what he always does - swooping in to save the day and then swooping back out to take up his place like nothing's happened, nothing's changed. He didn't expect the Admiral to put his paperwork through - you know that. This was supposed to be no-risk for him, a fun little adventure in South America, and then back into the courtroom."
"Mac. he resigned his commission."
Sturgis' words were quiet, but held double the impact for their volume. She flinched at each syllable, at each unwanted truth that she'd buried deep, deep, down below the anger and the hurt. But he was relentless.
"He bucked the Admiral's authority. Chegwidden said 'no', and Harm. Harm said 'To hell with that!' I want you to think about this question seriously Mac. On all of this Earth, whose authority does Harmon Rabb Jr. respect more than any other man alive?"
Unable to breathe, unable to meet his gaze and the terrible weight she found there, Mac could barely whisper the words.
"The Admiral."
"Yes Mac, that's right. Now what exactly does it tell you that you are the one thing that could cause Harm to metaphorically spit on this man. this father figure's. authority?"
His words were gentle, but precise as a surgeon's scalpel, cutting away at the warm cloth of indignation she'd cloaked herself in. Standing abruptly, Mac became a restless whirlwind, her hands shaking slightly as she fidgeted her way across the living room. She came to rest at the mantel, staring sightlessly at the framed photos of Chloe, her uncle, and. Harm. Her tone when she responded was bewildered and aching, showing nothing of the cool reserve and calm humor that had stood her in good stead since That Night.
"Then why can't he just *tell* me? I'm always putting myself out there, Sturgis, and he's always backing away from what I offer. What does that tell you about his feelings?"
"Did you really put yourself out there, Mac? Was it you offering to take the next logical step, to talk about things and assess the options? Or was it you offering an ultimatum? All or nothing? I know you Mac, you're an 'all or nothing' girl. but I know. and I think you know. that Harm isn't built like that, at least when it comes to women."
His tone became progressively softer, his entire demeanor reflecting Sturgis' discomfort at discussing his friend. his best friend. in such intimate detail. Even if it was with the woman Harm loved. Mac's sharp eyes, even dulled with tears, picked up on the small changes in his body language and interpreted them correctly. Softly, she pointed out the obvious truth.
"What kind of shot do we have, Sturgis, if we can't even start. whatever. without someone intervening? If Harm needs you to interpret for him, and run interference. how long do you think this would last?"
"Mac. I'm not telling you that Harm is the only option you've got. Hell, you know better than that. What I am telling you is that locking your feelings for him in a box isn't going to work this time any better than it has the last two. You've tried starting over, you've tried letting go. And using another man as an anesthetic. you've been down this road before Marine. It's a dead end."
The silence was deafening, resounding through the space between them until they both inwardly begged for a release.
"I don't have a magic bullet for you here, Mac. I'm just saying that in the end, it's not about what's sensible and what you can pull off. It's about playing the hand you've been dealt. I can't tell you how to do that, but I can tell you that neither of you is going to be able to move on until you've dealt with what you've got right now."
Unable to tear her gaze from Sturgis' warm, understanding, damning eyes, Mac's shoulders slumped. Suddenly, the façade of good cheer and determined maturity melted away, leaving behind the same Mac that had struggled with feelings for his best buddy for years now. This Mac was hurting, and confused, and no better off than she had been before. but at least this was Sarah Mackenzie, bright and beautiful in her gutsy determination to face life's realities head-on. This was the woman Sturgis remembered, and the woman he'd support through whatever it took to get his two best friends through this.
Returning to the couch, Mac settled bonelessly into its overstuffed depths, reaching absentmindedly for her beverage. Swallowing a bit of the tea, and missing, as always, the hard alcoholic burn that had made decisions so much easier several lifetimes ago, Mac shrugged in acceptance.
"God, Sturgis, what do we do now?"
Her friend grimaced in sympathy. What he wouldn't give for a nice and easy game plan, a quick-fix solution that would finally give his friends the peace and love they so richly deserved. Instead, he was left floundering, without any advice except to say:
"Just play out the hand you've got, Sarah. The rest will take care of itself. one way or another."
She acknowledged the dark undertones behind his words with a rueful twist of her lips. Raising her drink to her mouth again, she offered him the only response she could think of.
"Yeah. One way or another, this thing'll have to play out."
The End ************
Sequel? Probably. as soon as I think one up.