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I think I'm falling in love with him. I can't stop looking at him. We're in an interview now, and I know I shouldn't be writing this, especially with him sitting right next to me, but he's so close, I can feel him beside me. I know I shouldn't be staring at him so often. He'll catch me doing it and know I'm looking. My internal clock says it's been five minutes since the last glance. I look again. Oh gosh, the sea green eyes, the curve of his jaw, the familiar face, the lips… his lips. They look good to kiss. Ugh, where did that thought come from? Where are all these thoughts coming from? You need to get a grip Marine. You can't be falling in love with him. That would be wrong on so many levels (but right on so many others).
I smiled. The eternal internal clock of hers put to such uses was very amusing. I still didn't know who she was talking about. It wasn't hard to tell if you read between the lines, but I didn't want to say that it was obviously me because it sounded didn't want to say it was obviously me, because it sounded arrogant and sure of myself, which I definitely wasn't when it came to her. I was so unsure of myself in fact that after four long years, several near-death experiences, her far-too-close-to-marriage with another man, and months of almost-more-than best friendship, I was still absolutely terrified of telling her how I felt. There were only two things that inspired that kind of fear in my: losing Sarah Mackenzie and learning the Sarah Mackenzie didn't love me.
"I think I'm falling in love with him."
I could almost hear her voice saying those words. But that was so long ago now I made myself realise. And even then she was only "thinking" and she hadn't "fallen".
"You shouldn't be reading this," I said to myself, feeling like I was taking the back door into understanding Mac's thoughts and emotions.
I read on.
I hate to say I'm heart-broken, I am, but I'd hate to admit it. I'd hate to actually have to look him in the eye and say that he'd hurt me. He shouldn't be able to hurt me. We're not involved, just friends, and we're not in love or anything. So why do I feel so rejected? (And for an F-14 no less). He left everything here: his job, his friends, his me. Yes, his me. He left me here. That hurts. That hurts more than it should. He gave me up to fly. Flying was more important than me. He loves flying… does the fact that he left mean he doesn't love me? Does he love me? Why in God's name to I want to know?
But I know why I want to know.
I want to know for a very good reason.
Because I love him. Not just a 'crush', not just a one-or-two month kind of love. A forever kind of love, an eternity kind of love.
Oh God, did I do that to her? Did I really hurt her that much by going to fly? I tried to answer her questions- Why did she feel rejected? I never meant the decision to hurt her, much les reject her, and the fact that I left JAG to fly meaning I didn't love her? Never in forever did I intend for her to get that impression. In fact, when I'd changed my designator I'd even hoped in part that free of the legal issues surrounding fraternisation, Mac and I would be able to work something out. It'd always been one of my long-standing grievances that we hadn't. Now I realised why we didn't. She thought I was leaving because I didn't care about her. How could we have misunderstood each other so drastically?
I miss him. I miss him all the time. When I'm awake, I miss him. When I'm asleep, I miss him. When I'm at work, I miss him. When I'm at home, I miss him. I just miss him, physically, emotionally, in every possible way, with every fibre of my being, I miss him. I swear, if he ever comes back, even if it's just leave for the weekend, I'm going to spend the entire time he is in my presence exploring the geography of his arms. That man is going to hold me when he gets back on dry land. So what if I promised myself I'd never have children with a fighter pilot? So what if I said flying was out if him and I were going to be 'us'? He's going to hold me, and I am going to love him in a way he will never forget.
I stared at the page for a long moment. Her tears blurred the text in several places. I wanted to cry. Had I been any more of a man I probably would've, but I couldn't. I was missing her so much, and knowing that she'd felt the same when I was flying hurt. I'd never wish the hollow ache I felt on her. If it were my choice she'd never feel that way ever again. I'd take her up on the exploration expedition offer though. I sighed. This little scribble from years ago was the most accurate summary of everything I felt now, when she was the one at sea. It seemed the problem with Mac and I was we never felt the same thing at the same time. I thought about that for a moment. That wasn't entirely true when properly considered. I'd missed her while I was flying too. Sure, I was busy and when I was busy I was loving every minute of being a pilot again, but when the busyness died a little, when I was alone and it was as dark and quiet as an aircraft carrier can get, then I'd missed her, really missed. I'd missed her so much at night that I'd even drafted several transfer applications in the early hours of the morning. She'd never seen all the unfinished requests and unsent letters.
I got promoted today. Harm'd have to salute me if he was here. If he was here… damnit, why can't he be here? I want him here. He'd be proud of me; I know he would. He'd be smiling that flyboy smile and offering the most heartfelt congratulations of all. And he'd probably offer to take me to dinner (my shout, as with the promotion comes the pay rise… or that'd be his logic) and he wouldn't fuss about it, or make a big deal of it, but I'd know he was proud of me by the way he'd show me off to everyone, behaving like he was courting me, even if he wasn't (on his choice, not mine) and being the irresistible cross between fighter pilot and gentleman that he is. But he's not here and I'm staring at the slides in front of me alone, turning them over and running my hand along the new design. I miss my best friend.
I hated it how I'd missed her promotion. Sure I'd seen it coming a mile away, forget Colonel, that woman'd make a damn fine General, but I wished I'd been there to congratulate her instead of just-barely distracting myself from her gorgeous eyes long enough to notice her new rank slides only just quickly enough to salute her when she'd come aboard the carrier.
I can't believe I did that. I requested that assignment to see him again. I am never, ever, for the rest of my life, doing something that pathetic and lovesick for Harmon Rabb.
I didn't find it pathetic or lovesick at all. Seeing her again, wanting so badly to touch her, to taste her and feel her again on that carrier had been enlightening for me. And requesting an assignment to see a friend? I'd done that before. Admittedly the results had been disastrous for our relationship, but I'd needed to see her. I'd needed to make sure she knew how much she meant to me. That wasn't pathetic or lovesick in my opinion.
HE'S BACK, HE'S BACK, HE'S BACK, HE'S BACK!!!!
*screams in her current ecstasy*
He's back. (As I believe I have mentioned.)
I am SOOOOO happy.
There is a God. He gave me another chance with Harm.
I love him, I love him, I love him and HE'S BACK!!!
(There goes my promise to never do something pathetic and lovesick for Harm… meh, I love the guy: so shoot me.)
So she did love me. I tried to think of why I'd only once in my life honest to God tried to hit on Sarah Mackenzie, and why that one time had been at her engagement party.
I found no good reason.
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