Disclaimer: I don't own JAG. If I did, I'd drop out of school faster than you can say 'exculpatory evidence'.
A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. Between midterms and the siren call of another genre, I haven't gotten much done for poor Mac and Harm lately. The fourth chapter of Break Room doesn't want to be written, so here's the third installment of Board Games. If anyone's interested in helping me figure out a beginning for The Longest JAG Story Ever, so that I can finally post it, let me know. I'm getting ready to just post it without a beginning. :)
The guilty look on Harm's face would be priceless if I weren't so embarrassed. I've never met her, but from the way Harm's looking up at her – like a teenager caught in a romantic clinch on his parents' couch – this has to be Harm's mother.
"Mom," he gasps, confirming my suspicion. "What are you…why are you…" He stops, closing his eyes as he becomes speechless for the first time in my memory. His mother gives him a patient smile.
"You didn't expect me to miss your birthday, did you?"
He groans, and I push up on his shoulders. We're still sprawled out on the floor, and as much as I'd like to get up and leave quickly with whatever dignity I've got left, I can't do it with a six-foot-four flyboy on top of me.
He gets the message after a minute, practically jumping to his feet and offering me a hand up. I take it, blushing crimson as I come face-to-face with his mother.
"And you would be…Jordan?" she guesses, and my heart sinks. For the last few minutes, I've managed to forget that Harm already has a girlfriend. What kind of a tramp does that make me?
Blushing a deeper shade of red and vowing to join a convent as soon as I get out of this room, I take a deep breath. "Actually, I'm Sarah Mackenzie. I'm Harm's partner at JAG –"
"You're Mac!" Her eyes are sparkling suddenly, and I find myself pulled into a tight hug. "Oh, it's so wonderful to meet you. Harm speaks of nothing and no one else." She steps back a little, keeping her hands on my shoulders and studying me for a moment.
"You were right, Harm," she tells him without looking away from me. "She's absolutely stunning."
I look over at Harm to find he's about the same shade of red I'm sure I am. His eyes telegraph his frustration at the interruption. Mine tell him it's not a problem; we can pick this back up later. His mother, not noticing our silent exchange, continues to speak to him.
"You really should have called me when the two of you got together, Harm." She gives me a conspiratorial wink. "I've been rooting for you the whole way," she confides. "There's just something wrong when my son says he has a girlfriend but can't talk about anything but his brilliant, beautiful Marine. That's what he calls you, you know. After the two of you came home from your first mission, that was all he told me about you. You can just imagine how much I've wanted to meet you."
"And this is why you haven't, Mom," Harm replies, still crimson. I'm too busy trying to process this new revelation to pay any attention to him. The idea of him telling his mother that about me, a week after we met, has me practically melted into a puddle on the floor. The idea that he might possibly have been interested in me over the past three years is almost too much to contemplate.
His mother waves a hand absently at him, still looking at me. "Well," she says finally, "I suppose I'll head over to my hotel, having surprised you rather better than I intended to, Harmon."
He covers his face with his hands again and suddenly the hilarity of the situation hits me. I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing, but his mother sees and smiles.
"Never a dull moment with my son around," she tells me, patting my shoulder as she gives him an amused look, and something bittersweet bubbles up inside me. I've only spent five minutes with her and I can already tell that Harm's mom really, truly loves her son.
"Please don't go," I blurt out, surprising myself. "I mean, I don't want to interrupt –"
"Of course not, dear," Harm's mom replies, looking genuinely puzzled at the idea that I might be intruding on their family time.
"We should have dinner," Harm offers, finally joining the conversation. "All of us, together."
"That would be lovely," she tells him, looking over to give him a smile. "Where would you like to go?"
"Wherever you want, Mom," he replies, and she turns to me.
"Mac? Any preference?"
"Somewhere with coffee," I reply unconsciously, and then I realize who I'm talking to. To my surprise, she agrees wholeheartedly and in short order we're bundling up to go outside to Harm's SUV, having mutually selected Denny's as our destination.