Title: Afraid
Author: Nan
Rating: PG-13
Classification: vignette, Harm/Mac
Spoilers: A Tangled Web II
Summary: In the taxi cab to the airport, what is Mac thinking? For a companion piece, see Aerogirl's "Simple."
Shit, shit, shit, I did it again. For what seems like the millionth time in the last couple of days, somehow, I said the wrong thing. To Harm. Mr. 'Nothing Fazes Me'.
Not anymore. There was a time when I could say anything to him. Nothing threw him from that cool, collected, Rabb style. He always knew how to take it. How to respond. What comment was meant to stop and take seriously. And what was just a joke. His antennae was perfect, fined tuned to the least little disturbance. He always knew the right thing to say.
All I was trying to do was to pause for a moment. After saying goodbye to Gunny and Webb and before stepping into this damn taxi and rushing back to DC. To talk with Harm, my best friend, about this intense experience. He is the one guy I figure who might understand. It was kinda like Afghanistan last year. The whole Butch and Sundance thing. He saw it then. Why not now? Driving in the jeep, worrying about minefields and snipers. We were together. It was so real.
In that damn jeep we talked. We teased each other. Harm was great. He laughed and we shot barbs back in forth. It didn't matter what I said, he matched both the intention and spirit perfectly of whatever outrageous thing came out of my mouth. It was like we were in sync. I could say just about anything.
Just once in the desert did I go a little too far. I could tell. He didn't like talking about death. Our deaths. I dropped the topic quickly when he started on about the stages of cremation. Yuck.
I guess I should have realized that Harm wasn't in the right mood this time. But I just wanted to tell him how I felt about Paraguay. How the whole experience felt. Looking back, I guess the wording was a little funny. But the Scarlet O'Hara crack was unwarranted. And then there was one more criticism of Webb and this mission.
Okay, okay. I heard you, Harm. We screwed up. Clay and I blew it. How many times do I have to hear it? Yeah, yeah, Harm came and rescued us. I'd like to thank him for that, one of these days. But he keep thrusting down my throat what a fuck-up I am, now I feel like punching him instead.
Actually, Harm, there's more to this than you know. It wasn't just Clay who screwed up. I'm a screw-up too. If it weren't for me, Clay would never have been captured by Sadik. Never tortured. I was the one who insisted on going back for Gunny. Did I have a plan? No, I was thinking with emotion. Like you do sometimes. If we had gone from Clay's playbook, Gunny would be dead. And Clay would be fine. Which is why I did it. I'm not perfect, you know.
So sue me if I feel like I owe him something.
So I guess that's the reason why I lost it. Harm, I had to get you back. That's where the "both of us on top" speech came from. I think, anyway. That's the second time this trip I've said something out loud that I'd only thought before. Maybe I do need therapy.
That was so wrong. The minute the words came out of my mouth. There was something about that look on his face. I have never seen that look before. And over our eight-year history, I've seen a lot of Harm's looks.
What is wrong with the guy? Harm is the guy with the thickest skin on the face of this world. The guy who flies fighters off of pitching decks in the middle of the night, cruise missiles chasing his six, fights terrorists without a thought. Manages to solve our Paraguayan quagmire in less than half a day. So after having done all that, he is now Mr. Sensitive? Why all of a sudden?
What's with that attitude towards Clay? Harm and Clay have always been friends. Best friends. But now Harm is treating him like public enemy number 1. And after all Clay has done for me.
When I saw Clay's hands shaking this morning, I could only think of one thing. That could be me. I could have gone through that. But Clay wouldn't let them. He stopped them.
And for that, he gets Harm's contempt? What's that all about?
It's almost like he thinks I'm interested in Clay. Harm knows better than that. Clay is a good friend to me. That's all. Always has been, always will. A very good friend. And I owe him a lot.
There is one more thing. Harm resigned his commission to find us. Why don't I want to think about this? Like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff. If I get to close, maybe I will fall. Thinking about that is scary. Very scary. And I know what fear is all about. I mean, I was tied to that table at Sadik's compound. I saw the missionaries shot before my eyes. But Harm without the Navy? It would mean...
I'm sure it doesn't mean anything. Resigning his commission. We all know he can just walk right back into the admiral's office on Monday and get his job back, right? He walks on water at JAG. He is the admiral's favorite. Golden boy. Right? He will never let him go. This was just a legal technicality to make sure the Navy wasn't implicated in any fallout. This means nothing.
So what is wrong?
Harm, I see you sitting in that seat behind me. Looking out the window of the taxicab. Quit looking like that. I want the old Harm back. The one who always knew the right thing to say? Where is that guy? I want him back. I need him back.
Please?
Author: Nan
Rating: PG-13
Classification: vignette, Harm/Mac
Spoilers: A Tangled Web II
Summary: In the taxi cab to the airport, what is Mac thinking? For a companion piece, see Aerogirl's "Simple."
Shit, shit, shit, I did it again. For what seems like the millionth time in the last couple of days, somehow, I said the wrong thing. To Harm. Mr. 'Nothing Fazes Me'.
Not anymore. There was a time when I could say anything to him. Nothing threw him from that cool, collected, Rabb style. He always knew how to take it. How to respond. What comment was meant to stop and take seriously. And what was just a joke. His antennae was perfect, fined tuned to the least little disturbance. He always knew the right thing to say.
All I was trying to do was to pause for a moment. After saying goodbye to Gunny and Webb and before stepping into this damn taxi and rushing back to DC. To talk with Harm, my best friend, about this intense experience. He is the one guy I figure who might understand. It was kinda like Afghanistan last year. The whole Butch and Sundance thing. He saw it then. Why not now? Driving in the jeep, worrying about minefields and snipers. We were together. It was so real.
In that damn jeep we talked. We teased each other. Harm was great. He laughed and we shot barbs back in forth. It didn't matter what I said, he matched both the intention and spirit perfectly of whatever outrageous thing came out of my mouth. It was like we were in sync. I could say just about anything.
Just once in the desert did I go a little too far. I could tell. He didn't like talking about death. Our deaths. I dropped the topic quickly when he started on about the stages of cremation. Yuck.
I guess I should have realized that Harm wasn't in the right mood this time. But I just wanted to tell him how I felt about Paraguay. How the whole experience felt. Looking back, I guess the wording was a little funny. But the Scarlet O'Hara crack was unwarranted. And then there was one more criticism of Webb and this mission.
Okay, okay. I heard you, Harm. We screwed up. Clay and I blew it. How many times do I have to hear it? Yeah, yeah, Harm came and rescued us. I'd like to thank him for that, one of these days. But he keep thrusting down my throat what a fuck-up I am, now I feel like punching him instead.
Actually, Harm, there's more to this than you know. It wasn't just Clay who screwed up. I'm a screw-up too. If it weren't for me, Clay would never have been captured by Sadik. Never tortured. I was the one who insisted on going back for Gunny. Did I have a plan? No, I was thinking with emotion. Like you do sometimes. If we had gone from Clay's playbook, Gunny would be dead. And Clay would be fine. Which is why I did it. I'm not perfect, you know.
So sue me if I feel like I owe him something.
So I guess that's the reason why I lost it. Harm, I had to get you back. That's where the "both of us on top" speech came from. I think, anyway. That's the second time this trip I've said something out loud that I'd only thought before. Maybe I do need therapy.
That was so wrong. The minute the words came out of my mouth. There was something about that look on his face. I have never seen that look before. And over our eight-year history, I've seen a lot of Harm's looks.
What is wrong with the guy? Harm is the guy with the thickest skin on the face of this world. The guy who flies fighters off of pitching decks in the middle of the night, cruise missiles chasing his six, fights terrorists without a thought. Manages to solve our Paraguayan quagmire in less than half a day. So after having done all that, he is now Mr. Sensitive? Why all of a sudden?
What's with that attitude towards Clay? Harm and Clay have always been friends. Best friends. But now Harm is treating him like public enemy number 1. And after all Clay has done for me.
When I saw Clay's hands shaking this morning, I could only think of one thing. That could be me. I could have gone through that. But Clay wouldn't let them. He stopped them.
And for that, he gets Harm's contempt? What's that all about?
It's almost like he thinks I'm interested in Clay. Harm knows better than that. Clay is a good friend to me. That's all. Always has been, always will. A very good friend. And I owe him a lot.
There is one more thing. Harm resigned his commission to find us. Why don't I want to think about this? Like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff. If I get to close, maybe I will fall. Thinking about that is scary. Very scary. And I know what fear is all about. I mean, I was tied to that table at Sadik's compound. I saw the missionaries shot before my eyes. But Harm without the Navy? It would mean...
I'm sure it doesn't mean anything. Resigning his commission. We all know he can just walk right back into the admiral's office on Monday and get his job back, right? He walks on water at JAG. He is the admiral's favorite. Golden boy. Right? He will never let him go. This was just a legal technicality to make sure the Navy wasn't implicated in any fallout. This means nothing.
So what is wrong?
Harm, I see you sitting in that seat behind me. Looking out the window of the taxicab. Quit looking like that. I want the old Harm back. The one who always knew the right thing to say? Where is that guy? I want him back. I need him back.
Please?