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JAG Headquarters
Monday Afternoon
Commander Harmon Rabb stepped out of his office and nodded to Bud as he headed for the elevator. Mac had been tied up on the Seahawk right through the weekend, and he found that the closer it came to her being home, the more he missed her. He had quietly mentioned something to that effect to the Admiral when they were in the coffee room the day before, and AJ had looked genuinely amused. "You are new at this, aren't you?"
Harm had spoken to Mac on the phone only three times in five days, knowing how closely military communications were being watched and not wanting to draw attention to themselves. Because of that, those conversations had been largely business, as they discussed the missile case they had started before she was called away – a situation that revolved around the mishandling of classified paperwork. Tracing the paper trail was tedious and time consuming, and the only thing that kept him feeling connected to her was a legal pad currently on the coffee table at his apartment. He remembered clearly how the Admiral had suggested it.
"What I would recommend, Harm, is that you try to keep track of all the things that you two need to talk about. You're lawyers; use that to your advantage. Look at your relationship as a case that needs investigating, and jot down anything you can think of that you need to know or look into. Then, when you're together, you won't waste any time on avoiding issues… or being distracted."
Harm had proceeded to have the following convoluted shore to ship phone conversation with Mac.
"Mackenzie."
"Hello, Colonel, this is Commander Rabb."
"Ah.. hello."
"Listen, Colonel, I was talking to the Admiral yesterday."
"…You were?"
"Yes. About that potential partnership deal between the two Navy and Marine officers? The ones that want to make sure that they have all the difficulties covered?"
There was just a touch of squeak in her voice. "You talked to the Admiral about it?"
"Yes, he was quite helpful. It was almost as if he knew my questions before I did."
There was a pause. "Ah… good."
"Indeed. I know you're busy there, but could you grab a legal pad and write down any concerns you think they may face? When you get back we can compare notes."
"The Admiral suggested this?"
"Well, he knows that it's not a priority in the office compared to some of the other things we're working on - since they only asked for advice - but he'd like it cleared up with the minimum of interruption."
"I see. Well, I'd certainly love to know what he had to say. Thank you, Commander, I think I can wrap my brain around a list. I'll get on it."
"Great." Another pause. "Any idea when you'll be getting back?"
"Not soon enough." She chuckled. "Do they miss me in the office as much as I miss being there?"
"More than you know, Ma'am. Looking forward to your return."
Harm laughed to himself as he remembered that call. It was murder to hear her voice and not tell her how much he had been thinking of her, how he wanted to hold her… but the fun of playing the dutiful officers almost made up for it. The fact that he could start the charade and she could immediately catch on and run with it delighted him. He took a deep breath and exhaled contentedly as he walked to his car.
The Admiral had said she'd be home tomorrow, and he couldn't wait. Some laundry tonight, a little football, and try not to think about those eyes.
Harm's Apartment
Monday Evening
Twelve Minutes into the Third Quarter
Harm sat on the floor leaning against the couch and folding undershirts, stacking them neatly in a basket to his left. A beer sat on the coffee table just to his right, along with an open bag of Terra chips. The play onscreen had his total attention at the moment, and when he yelled at the call and pointed, he managed to completely crumple the shirt in his hand. "Two feet down! Are you blind?" The phone rang almost immediately.
"Rabb." He paused, gestured widely at the TV. "Yes, I saw it, no, he was not out of bounds." He shook his head vehemently. "Look, Sturgis, there's no way it's going to be upheld –" a loud cheering from the television made his eyes widen. "Fine. Fine. Rub it in. The game's not over yet. Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow." He hung up the phone, shaking his head and muttering.
Picking up the laundry basket, he was walking back to his room when abruptly the noise on the TV became even louder. He still had the basket in his hands when he dashed back to see what had happened.
"Hi."
To his absolute surprise, standing in front of the still-open door was Colonel Sarah Mackenzie in full uniform, her luggage in one hand, keys in the other. He stared at her, his jaw hanging.
"I knocked, but I could tell the TV was kind of loud so I just used my key –" she looked at his gaping expression and frowned slightly. "Was that okay? I mean –"
She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. Harm unceremoniously dropped the laundry basket, vaulted over the couch and the coffee table, hit the door shut with his left hand and proceed to pin her bodily against said door, making her drop the suitcase as he kissed her passionately.
He stopped to look into her eyes, and when she caught her breath she laughed. "Surprise. Miss me?"
"They said you wouldn't be home until tomorrow," he said hoarsely, his eyes bright with happiness. "I would have picked you up." His hands cupped her face and she felt the joy welling up in her chest.
"Well, that would have been quite the scene at the airfield, wouldn't it?" She giggled and he kissed her again, more gently. "Actually, I told the Admiral that I'd be at work tomorrow."
Harm's eyes widened. "He knew?"
"Evidently." She dropped the keys, wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled his lips to hers in a kiss that could definitely lead to something other than a conversation about their commanding officer.
"Mac." Harm whispered against her ear as he held her, making her shiver with a delicious desire. He seemed to pause a moment and then said, just as quietly, but with a faint humor in his voice, "So days you're away count as two each, right?" She paused long enough for him to pull back and look at her, wondering if she was thinking –
"Nice try, Flyboy." Her hand stroked his cheek affectionately. "I brought my legal pad, I thought we could do a little work on that partnership case. That's what all the waiting is about, right?" He smiled and gestured at the coffee table where his pad was sitting next to the chips and beer, and his expression grew serious for a moment.
"Which makes me think of item six on my list – how do you feel about me drinking around you?" He looked more concerned than nervous. "I mean, I don't drink that much anyway, but I imagine that kissing while I was drinking would be like blowing smoke in the face of someone who quit." She nodded, appreciating his candor. "And of course, if the choice is a beer or kissing you, there is no choice to make."
"Frankly, Harm, I don't mind you having a drink around me. I would be distressed to see you drunk –" he nodded, 'me too', - "and yes, while we're kissing I'm sure you will find that you don't need any auxiliary intoxicants." He laughed and hugged her again, delighting in her confident tone. "Now. As much as I want to work on this, I also want to get out of this uniform and get something to eat."
He blinked at her with false innocence. "Need any help with that?" She rolled her eyes, then tilted her head and dropped her voice seductively.
"As a matter of fact, Harm, I do." He froze just long enough for her to get her revenge. "I need dinner. Desperately. So either go do some kitchen magic, or let me run out for a burger. I'm starving."
Harm nodded in resignation. "I knew you only wanted me for my extraordinary skills. I just didn't think they were the ones I use in the kitchen." She opened her mouth and he held up a finger, stopping her. "Don't go there, young lady." She laughed and he hugged her again, not wanting to let go. "I'll whip something up. You go change."
"Thanks, Navy." She picked up her suitcase and headed for the bathroom. "I'm going to grab a shower, okay? Long flight."
"No prob." He found himself dashing around the kitchen, more excited than he had been in a week, happy to be making her dinner. Passing by the window, he caught his reflection in the glass. The man he saw there was far more than happy, and Harm stopped, stared at himself curiously for a long moment. It's true. Better tell her. He shook his head as with some embarrassment he heard himself giggle, and went back to work.
Mac sipped her cranberry juice and gave a contented sigh. She leaned over the table to where Harm was sitting watching her with his chin resting on his crossed arms, and kissed him on the nose. "Thanks, Handsome. You're beginning to make me feel like a kept woman. Next time it's my house, and I cook." He smiled, picked up his ginger ale and motioned toward the couch.
"Shall we?"
"Most certainly." They sat on the couch, and he put his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her toward him. He though he saw a slight wince.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine." She stretched her head from side to side and winced again. "A little achy, I guess. You know how well I sleep on a ship."
"Sit on the floor." She slipped off the couch to sit between his legs, and he began to massage her shoulders and neck, gently at first, then more strongly. Mac purred under his touch, finally flopping her head back into his lap.
"Wonderful. I feel so much better."
"Then get back up here." He leaned over to kiss her, upside down, and she giggled when he explored the possibilities of the position before moving back to sit next to him.
Mac stared into his eyes, happier than she had been in ages. Who am I kidding? When have I ever felt quite this good? What could possibly make this any better than it is? Her heart gave a little drop as he suddenly looked at the lists on the table, then back to her. His expression was abruptly serious.
"Mac, I want to work on those tonight, but there's something I want to tell you first. I didn't write it down, but I think it's important."
Her first impulse was to back up, to sit up straight and put the walls in place. Without warning she saw Harm's face in her mind's eye, the last time she did that. The hurt, the pain that was there because it was so hard for her to trust him. Alright, Mackenzie. Let's look at this as a field test. What's the worst thing that can happen? She tried to ignore the series of answers that her ever-fertile imagination came up with. Instead, she did her best to look at him calmly, brushed her hand over his. "What's that, Flyboy?"
He appeared to see the effort she made. With an easy motion he pulled her toward him and turned her body so that she was lying back across his chest, cradled in his arms. Brushing the back of his hand along her neck, he lifted her chin. He paused with his mouth so close to hers she felt the warmth of his breath on her face, waited long enough that she gave an anxious shiver, and lowered his lips to hers.
Mac felt herself opening to him. Felt her abdomen tighten with desire as he deepened the kiss, exploring her with powerful intimacy. A low moan escaped from her throat as she laced her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him to her hungrily, and she heard a rumble in his chest as he growled in response. In the euphoria of the moment, she had what felt like a strange realization.
She had been with men who wanted to dominate her emotionally, and with men who she could easily wrap around her little finger if she wanted to… but never with someone who she felt she could call a 'soul mate'. Was that what this feeling was? He pulled back, ever so slightly, and whispered her name.
"Sarah."
She shuddered a little in her delight. He had a way of making her given name sound like the most intimate, sensual endearment in the world. Opening her eyes she looked into his, the color of the sky after a storm, and spoke softly to him.
"Yes, Harm. What did you want to tell me?" After that kiss, he could have told her anything. He looked intensely into her for a long moment, then nodded.
"I love you." For a few seconds she stared at him, wondering if she had heard correctly. He looked away for a bare second and returned to her with the famous grin. "I feel like I've said it a thousand times, but never out loud, never to your face. I love you, Mac." She smiled, her hand tracing his features as if to make sure he was real.
"I love you, Harm. I do." They kissed again, and she snuggled down into his shoulder, and her eyes watered just a little as he held her close.
"I feel… like you've opened my heart, Mac. Like I took a chance, and now I'm so much more alive. I feel like I'm flying, with both feet still on the ground." She gave a joyous little laugh as she leaned back to look at him, and then shifted around so that she was on her knees straddling his lap, her hands on his shoulders. Her expression grew more solemn.
"You know, Harm, all my life I've felt like I have to prove I can do it alone."
"And you have. You've done great."
"Yes, yes I have. But there's always been this other side, the one that said I needed someone to love me to make me feel worthwhile."
He kissed her forehead, and said very gently, "I know. I've never understood why everyone can see – beyond the devout Marine, beyond the phenomenal lawyer - what an amazing woman you are… except you." Harm looked hesitant before he added, "I wish I could take that misconception away."
Her smile was affectionate. "I'm the only one who can do that. I put myself in a lose/lose situation. I had to be alone to be a successful officer, and I wasn't worth anything as a woman if I was alone." Her eyes were watering with the force of a lifetime of struggle. "But during this year I finally came to peace with being alone. I've been happy. I don't have to prove anything anymore." She took his hand and pressed it to her cheek. "I'm someone I like spending time with now. Now I can give myself to someone and not worry about losing a thing." Harm's eyes were shining as much as hers when she grinned at him happily. "I love you, Flyboy." She leaned forward and kissed him tenderly.
"Mac?"
"Yes?"
"Why did it take us so long?"
She giggled. "Shakespeare has a great line that I've used about my life more than once. He said, 'If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.'" He looked at her, raised an eyebrow.
"You mean we just need better writers?"
This time she laughed out loud. "Maybe we can do our own writing now." They fell into the kiss like old lovers, old friends, and relished the sheer comfort they felt. When they stopped, Mac's dark eyes were sparkling. "Well, I've covered about four items from my list. Should we look at yours?"
He brushed her hair back from her face, and his thumb cleared away a stray tear. "Soon."
Harm's Apartment
Two in the Morning
"What was your favorite story when you were a kid?" Mac looked across the coffee table which was littered with tea mugs, spoons, ice cream bowls, an empty bag of chips, a pop bottle and the empty stems from a bunch of grapes.
"You're kidding." She laughed and yawned when she covered her mouth.
"Nope. The story that you'd run off to when you were playing by yourself. I want to know." His expression was serious but his eyes were laughing. "Let's just do one more each. I know I've kept you up too late."
"You're not the only one with a list, handsome." She reached across and took his hand. "But you're right. One more each, if we're just doing fun stuff now."
"You don't think discussing how we'll behave in court if we're against each other is fun?"
"I was just amused that it was three on both our lists."
"Yeah. Go figure." He kissed her fingers and smiled. "Favorite story. Go."
She looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling, and slowly smiled. "Peter Pan was always a big one for me."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Ironic, isn't it?"
He looked at her and laughed. "You mean because you're sitting here with the guy that everyone thinks has a Peter Pan complex?"
She giggled. "You know, eh?"
"Oh, yeah. Been called that one to my face." He looked at her a bit more seriously. "So were you Peter, or were you Wendy?" Her eyes widened.
"Perceptive, flyboy." He nodded.
"Just answer the question, ma'am."
She gave him a smug little smile. "Usually I was a lost boy. But I was a girl that no one knew was a girl…yes, and get that psychological look off your face. Sometimes I was Wendy, the caretaker… but sometimes, when I was feeling really cocky," she grinned, blushing a little, "I was Tinkerbelle."
He tried for a long moment not to laugh, but it was too late and they were too tired, and they both collapsed in a flood of giggles. "Only you would make me see Tinkerbelle as a Marine."
"She did wear green." She wiped her eyes and shook off the laughter. "Your turn. Favorite story."
He grinned down at his list. "Robin Hood."
She looked at him, wide-eyed. "I loved Robin Hood." He nodded, lifted his eyes to her face. "Rescuing the damsel in distress, working around the rules to do what's right… Yeah, I can see that."
Harm nodded. "Don't forget hiding behind a disguise when you have an uncomfortable challenge – one that could hurt." She gave him a sympathetic look. "And yeah, I was the man himself, not one of the sidekicks." Mac blinked at him a couple times and smiled.
"I like that. I'd be your Marian."
"That you would." He looked at his watch and his eyes popped. "Two-thirty? Oh, Mac, I'm sorry. You must be exhausted."
"I'm fine." She yawned in spite of herself.
"Sure you are." He stood up and grabbed the trash from the table as she gathered up the dishes. "You're staying, right?" Mac nodded again as she yawned, her hands full. "You want the bed? I could sleep here…" He dumped the trash in the garbage and wrapped his arms around her where she stood at the sink. "I feel so bad that I kept you up this late."
She turned in his arms and nestled against him. "Knock it off, Harm. I want to talk as much as you do. And I think this was wonderful." Looking up, she kissed him sweetly, then looked a little shy. "I liked sleeping on the couch with you. It felt like we were kids." Harm laughed.
Turning off the lights in the kitchen, he kissed her once more in the dark. Then he stepped away, held out his hand for hers. "C'mon, Tink. Let's go to sleep."