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A/N: Just a note to my most *critical* reader *pointed glares*, kay-14619, mush? *shrugs* Whatever you want to call it dearest.

Yeah, this is a "mush" story. *Quotes a/n from chapter one*

"YAY!!! Total fluff fic…"

Why readers were surprised when it was revealed that there was no plot whatsoever I do not know. Seriously, if you wanted plot read something under a different genre (Romance/Humour sought of says it all---). I do have some fics with plot, several actually.

*glares at Head once more*

*laughs*

*shrugs* Moving right along---

There a more innuendoes in this fic than ice in Antarctica---

Warning One: You have been warned---

Warning Two: I cannot be blamed--- I claim lack of mental responsibility. *grins* Testing out a few snippets of reality--- yes, my teenage friends and I are unashamedly flirtatious when we're lucid, when we're on sugar highs we're downright deadly. *shrugs* Too bad experience between me and fill-in the blank didn't turn out as well as with H&M.

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Over the next few days Mac and I reached an understanding: we were in love with each other.

It was quite surprising really that after all these angst ridden years waiting for this revelation, all those ah, not-so-innocent fantasies of how it was "meant" to happen and near-constant speculation, neither of us had any idea what to do about it.

There were several long glances exchanged over staff calls, a few *accidental* (I swear---) touches, one ridiculously heated scene in the elevator on Wednesday morning (that one got around the office pretty quickly and was naturally denied in front of Chegwidden who naturally knew we were lying: something about "not caring about what he didn't know about and not knowing about what he didn't see") and days of half-hearted avoidance (on my part) and downright skilful evasion (on hers).

We hadn't really spoken of late and Chegwidden had done his best to ensure we were opposite ends of the building professionally. Naturally I drew the short straw, practically hand-cuffed to a desk with a pen in hand. Whoever said I was the Admiral's favourite was clearly schizotypal and delusional.

Then there was the gossip to contend with. After that little incident on Wednesday everyone (and I literally mean everyone- hell, the vermin living in the woodwork probably knew) had taken to speculation of the worst kind. The most evil and annoying of those involved was Sturgis who ceaselessly pestered me about what had happened. (In all honestly I had no idea how it had all started- some seemingly chaste comment became the victim of our imaginations and well, once our imaginations were involved along the same lines in such a small space alone, we were goners. I do believe she started it though.)

She was following through on her desire to "ignore it" when it suited her however, which was most of the time. Eventually all of this was going to get way out of control, but for now, we were still able to outrun the issue.


I had convinced myself that was a good thing.

She walked into the room and instantly changed my mind.

After realising she *was* actually present and I was not imagining her, I almost fell off my chair.

"Hey," she said slowly.

"Hey," I echoed faintly, "What are you doing here?"

She laughed, "I work here too you know."

"But what---you've been avoiding me since--- well since Wednesday actually."

"I haven't been avoiding you," she lied, "I just---"

"Yes?"

"I just---"

"Haven't spoken to me? Walked the other way when you saw me coming?" I suggested.

"That's," she began to protest, "Ok, that's true. But not the walk the other way part, I may have tactfully avoiding running into you, but I never migrated in the opposite direction, to be fair."

"Ok, to be fair."

There was an incredibly awkward pause.

"Harm?"

"Yes?"

"I can't really remember why I'm here. I just wanted--- I'm not ignoring you."

"You are."

"Well you certainly return the favour incredibly well."

"Learnt from the best," I grinned.

"I don't want to be ignoring you."

"Then why are you?"

"Because. I don't really *know* why."

"That makes sense counsellor."

"Ok, I do know why- because you're getting to me and that can only be a bad thing. I mean, I can't concentrate, seriously, did you hear what happened yesterday?"

"No."

"Well, I, um, gave the wrong closing argument in court, not to mention the fact that I've walked into several doors this week, began talking to myself at the most awkward of times, accidentally admitted to Sturgis that, uh, well I told him what I wanted for Christmas, misplaced half my paperwork- and that may be a good thing- but, God damnit you make me so-- so-- so *normal* Harm, and I don't like it."

I laughed at her.

"This is not funny. You do understand what I am telling you? You make me typical, normal, cliché," she paused in frustration, "That is a bad, bad thing because that means that you are getting to me and that is invariably bad because it leads to me being, well, ditzy, scatterbrained and increasingly vague in important situations."

Mac is cute when she's mad.

"I mean, do you know what I accidentally said to Harriet the other day? I think I vaguely admitted having a strong desire to sleep with you. I can't stop thinking about anything else and that is getting really annoying and increasingly inappropriate---"


Really cute.

"It's really starting to piss me off as a matter of fact---"

"Mac?"

"What?"

"Shut up."

"Excuse me?"

"I told you to shut up."

"My point."

"Seriously, you're rambling."

"I know."

"And you don't need to."

"I know."

"In fact you don't have to say anything."

"Yes I do," she sighed, "While talking to you is always a disaster, not talking to you is worse."

"In what way?"

"Well, to add to the list of stupid things I have done this week I have also fallen off a chair- thank God I was alone that time- scanned something I meant to photocopy, put orange juice in my coffee--- and the list of things that suggest I see my hairdresser for a new colouring continues."

"No, I like you as a brunette."

She stared at me, "That is your only comment on the issue?"

"Well no," I began, looking at her eyes very closely trying to predict whether she was seriously murderous or just mad, "But I'm sure this newfound brainlessness is caused by sexual tension- something relatively easy to fix."

She rolled her eyes something grand, "Is that the male solution to *everything*?"

Just mad.

"No, I believe Einstein invented some mathematical equations to solve a few problems."

She glared, "You are not taking me seriously."

"What do you want me to say Mac?"

"Do we have to go through this again? Is it not apparent what I want you to say?"

"I don't think here is the time or the place for that."

"When will it be the time or the place? If I told you that this is your last chance- and I mean last chance- that if you didn't say it I would walk straight of here and into the Admiral's office and ask for a transfer to the opposite side of the planet, call the six other men that persist in calling me to ask me to dinner and accept an invitation from all of them and get on with my life, what would you do?"

"I tell you I loved you, but you'd have trapped me into it wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I suppose I would've, but no matter- this is your last chance Harm. Stop playing games with me right here, right now or I will walk away and this ship will sail."

"Then I love you Sarah. Quite frankly you've known that for at least four days, and a hell of a lot longer really. I don't know why you came in here searching for a bottom line, but that is mine. I love you. It's that simple."

"Nothing is ever *simple* when you're involved," she muttered.

"You are still mad at me."

"Yes."

"What was I *meant* to say? What was I *meant* to do? Please tell me, because I did exactly what you asked and you are still pissed off."

She sighed, "I don't know what to expect with you but I'm always disappointed. Don't try to figure that out, it makes no sense, but hey, when do I make sense?"

I stared her, wondering if she'd kill me if she knew when I thought she made perfect sense. A few kisses in the break room and Wednesday morning came to mind.

I shrugged, "I don't know what more you want from me, but I don't think it's me you're mad at. Why do you think you're always disappointed? You set standards that are damn near impossible to reach for me, and for yourself and that is who I think you're mad at."

"Are you actually telling *me* how *I* feel?"

"Well you seem to have no idea, so one of us has to do it."

"I *do* know how I feel and I don't like it much."

"Ok, now it's your turn: how do you feel Sarah?"

It's surprisingly easy to call her by her first name. One would've expected that calling her something different would've seemed strange, but it was actually quite comfortable. I guess I'd been mentally calling her that for a while.

"I," she began dramatically, "Am in love with you. And I don't like it because I always feel like you're using that against me, that you're toying with me, that you're not serious. I hate it. Not only that, you make me feel clingy and pathetic and I hate that too."

"Sarah you are not pathetic and you are certainly not clingy. I am not playing around with you, I would never use the fact that you love me against you and I am more serious than I have ever been before. Would you listen to me for a change?"

"I am listening."

"Would you believe me?"

"I do believe you."

"Then believe me when I say I love you."

"I do and—God damnit I love you too."

"Why God damnit?"

"Because you are the most infuriating person I know."

"Like I said, sexual tension. Easily rectified."

"Really?" she retorted flirtatiously.

"Yes."

It was the greatest relief I had felt in days. That conversation had been way too deep and meaningful for my liking, this light-hearted turn was a relief from the constant analysis required to survive such a tête-à-tête with Sarah Mackenzie.

"It won't work," she interrupted my thoughts softly.

"What won't work?"

"Us--- and your solution."

"Why not?

"Well because we just have a history that's all."

"You aren't going to turn around and blame me are you?"

"Well it might be partly your fault."

I must've looked hurt.

"Oh Harm," she laughed at my facial expression, "It's not you- I'm sure *you'd* be great," she grinned, "It's me."

I eyed her studiously, "I see no problem Colonel."

"You address me by rank," she sighed, "And herein the problem begins to emerge."

"I don't remember any section of the UCMJ that said I couldn't prove a point to my gorgeous Marine partner."

"The UCMJ?" she waved her hand in dismissal, "I couldn't care less about the UCMJ. But yes, I am a Marine Corps Colonel---"

"You hinting at the fact that you're superior in rank?"

I didn't remind her that it was only by six months.

"No."

"Good. I was beginning to wonder if you remembered that part of A Few Good Men--- you know, the 'if you haven't had a blow job from a senior officer'---"

She cut me off abruptly, raising one eyebrow, "Put it away Commander."

I couldn't resist laughing at her reaction, "Come on Colonel, how many times have you told me you don't bite?"

Her unamused look was replaced by a wide smile, "Only when asked," she quipped.

"I still fail to see how despite the fact that you want this, you are the reason it won't work. Make a coherent argument counsellor or yield the floor."

She crossed her arms across her chest and exhaled in a steady, seductive stream, "Because," she paused, "I am a difficult woman to please."

"And I like a challenge."

She glared softly, failing to keep a serious expression, "Are you trying to talk me into this?"

"No," I flashed her a little smile, "You're trying to talk yourself out of it."

"Objection, argumentative."

"Withdrawn."

"Are you serious?"

"Are you not?"

"Answer the question," she demanded, her standard frustration setting in when I pulled what I guess is my typical MO.

"Yes."

A one-word answer that left no one guessing. Mac barely contained her surprise.

"You're not going to run?" she asked, in a genuinely inquiring tone, which displayed no hint of sarcasm.

"No," I responded, "Why would I run?"

"Well," she inhaled nervously, "It's just- every other- because you always do."

"Can I question the impartiality of the legal parties involved counsellor? It appears the jury has already made up her mind before the evidence is displayed to the court."

"Merely making a logical prediction of future trends by past behaviour."

"One-love," I acknowledged.

"No, you had me a few times back there," she argued, "One-two, to you."

"Who's keeping score?"

"One-three."

I took a step closer to her, "I'm not running any where Mac."

"Why not?"

"Because, why run away from everything you want?"

"You're the expert, you tell me."

"Sometimes you're afraid you don't deserve it. Maybe you're a little messed up, a little scared of how you feel and think she's worthy of more than that."

"Do you ask her how she feels?"

"She tells you."

"Do you give her a reason or just--- just push her away?"

"You tell her to wait."

"And she waits."

"No, she misunderstands."

"You think?"

"I know."

"How?"

"You almost lose her."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, she finds what she wants with someone else."

"How do you know what she wants?"

"You don't, you've gotta guess."

"Assuming facts not in evidence."

"She says she's happy."

"I don't remember saying I was happy with anyone but you---"

I closed the distance between us and kissed her to silence her.

"Mm, Harm!" she protested, "This won't work-"

"Not what you said in Sydney."

"That was different. I know you think where we are doesn't change who we are, but does it not change how we feel? You can't honestly say that being here, now, today, in this environment has no effect on-"

I kissed her again.

"You talk too much, has any man ever told you that?"

"Only you," she muttered.

"You really know how to kill a mood Colonel."

"Good to know we have something in common."

"Two-three."

"I thought you weren't keeping score,"

"No, I asked who was. Twisting my words again?"

"Two-four."

"So you're a hard woman to please huh?"

"It's been said."

"Then we'll do it your way," I paused, seating myself on the edge of my desk, "On one condition."

"What's that?"

I pulled her toward me, "You banish the 'this won't work' phrase from your extensive vocabulary."

"Done."

"I'd shake your hand to confirm that deal Colonel but-"

"There are better ways and means?"

"Something like that."

I kissed her again.

Within minutes she *somehow* ended up half-lying on my desk, several piles of painstakingly sorted and completed paperwork spilling themselves all over the floor. Due to the fusion of our mouths it was quite impossible for me to be in any position but leaning over her, one of my hands beneath several layers of clothing and quite amused by the skin of her lower back, the other fondling the back of her neck.

She broke the contact with a huge smile, pushing me upright and sitting herself, pulling herself into my lap and playing with my slides absently. Watching me intently, she closed the distance between our lips once more, pulling me to her by my shoulders. I moved the hand on her neck upwards, gently threading my fingers through her hair as one of her hands reached over my shoulder to my back and the other slid down my chest, resting firmly against my breast pocket.

I wasn't sure how long I sat their kissing her before the Admiral walked in. I don't know how long I sat their kissing her after the Admiral walked in, but it was safe to assume that at some point in time, the Admiral did knock at the door, and enter without either Mac or I realising. It is also safe to assume that the door was open behind him because around the same time her hand started sliding downwards again Chegwidden (to me an anonymous inconsiderate idiot with what I concluded to be the worst timing) slammed the door behind him before Mac or I had a chance to move. When I looked up, I was incredibly unfortunately met with the sight of my Commanding Officer glaring at me furiously.

I groaned inwardly. This situation was nasty: I had been caught with Sarah Mackenzie in my lap, her uniform once again partly removed (I was yet to decide whether this was a good thing or a bad thing) and her lips capturing mine for a another time. Again- this made three times in one week! Why was five uninterrupted minutes too hard to find around this office?

Mac very promptly extracted herself from my lap and slid off my desk, I attempted to remove her lipstick from my face and our CO glowered at us. She looked like a cat that had been caught with a feather in its whiskers, I don't know how I looked, but I felt really sheepish.

Again. God must hate us. How the hell did we get caught three times? And twice by a two-star--- life is so unfair.

"I am not even going to attempt to speak to the pair of you right now," Chegwidden stated quietly, in obvious exasperation, "I am going to walk out of this office and close the door. I am going to return to my own office and try not to think about what I just saw. Then my two senior officers are going to come and speak to my Yeoman and request my audience, which they will get, however I will be the one putting on the show. Correct me if I'm mistaken, but did I just observe the said senior officers in a compromising position on someone's desk? Actually, on second thoughts, I don't want to know. Get a room and get it over with please," the Admiral practically begged, "And my dear God, if you see it fit, please ensure I never have to observe such a display again."

With that, he turned at strode out, opening and slamming the door closed with the dramatic movements only an Admiral can execute to effect. I stared at the closed door.

"Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"I think we might be in a little trouble."

"Just a little," I began dryly, "I mean, there's a slim chance."

"A slight possibility," she agreed, crossing the room so she was standing in front of me, "Nice one Rabb."

"You played an extremely active role Mackenzie."

"Hell yes," she responded, drawing out the 's' in a hiss of breath that was very enticing.

"I guess we were busted," I shrugged.

She leant in to kiss me.

"Completely," she agreed breathily.

I pressed my lips to hers again.

"Totally," I added against the corner of her mouth as we both inhaled.

She turned her head and the quick brush of our lips rapidly deepened once more.

"Utterly," she nodded breathlessly.

"Three times in one week," I murmured into her neck.

"People will say we're in love," she replied.

"Our CO will have our asses booted out of the services."

She laughed a little, her stomach shaking beneath my hand.

"We'll need good lawyers," she mused.

"My mother will be ecstatic."

"Our friends will go crazy."

I pictured Harriet's reaction now.

"We'll spend ages discussing plans to elope," I murmured, with that reaction in mind.

"Chloe will want to be a flower girl."

"We'll keep that promise we made four years ago when little AJ was born."

She laughed again, "I'll tell you all the fantasies I've had involving you and---" she trailed off into a sigh.

"Me and?"

"Hmm, elevators, photocopiers, desert sands, ah, desks, filing cabinets, bedrooms, bathrooms, your couch, um---"


Kissing her to shut her up got easier every time I did it.

"Is there anywhere you didn't think of?" I asked her suggestively.

"I don't think so."

"Submarines?"

She smiled slyly, "Covered."

"Air carriers?"

"Every time I've been on one."

"Pentagon command centre?" I teased.

"Wish I'd realised those ones," she said with a raised eyebrow, pressing against me.

"Jeez, you have a wandering mind Colonel."

"Oh yes, I won't tell you just how far my mind has wandered around you."

"Chegwidden's office?"


Her sly smile became downright wicked, "I won't say at risk of distracting you while we're getting our asses kicked later."

"Who are you and what have you done with my partner?"

Her hand pushed against my thigh, "Oh Harm, I *am* your partner. And please tell me you know my name by now surely?"

"Sarah," I exhaled into her parted lips, drawing her as close as was physically possible and pressing my jaw against hers nothing short of eagerly.

"Yes," she grinned breathlessly, "That's my name. Very good."

"We'd better stop this."

"Why?"

"Because I am not going to be able to control myself if you persist."

She lowered her eyes to meet mine, "I'd like that."

"I'm not saying that I wouldn't like that too, but for two reasons that would be impossible right now. The first: this is not the place, the second: we don't have time."

"We have a least five minutes before Chegwidden comes back in here and hauls us into his office," she informed me seductively.

"After seven years of waiting you'd be happy with five minutes?" I jibed.

"I'd take whatever I could get with you."

I was a little shocked by that statement. Lt Colonel Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie was rarely so brazen and when she was--- well it was never about sex. Then again, before today Lt Colonel Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie had rarely kissed me. Yet it was the same woman standing in front of me, minus the rank and the nickname. Yeah, I decided I was going to like Sarah more than Mac.

"And you can have whatever you want right after we neutralise the hostile two-star."

"Sounds like a plan," she murmured, still firmly enveloped by my hold around her waist.

I stood and she straightened my collar contemplatively.

"You're gonna have a bitch of a stain on the that white shirt," she informed me, eyeing the lipstick warily and pulling my jacket up to cover it, "Sorry about that."

"Hey, at least it's not blood," I joked, "You are the only woman I know who comes into my office trying to kill me and leaves after making out with me for the better part of 30 minutes."

"25 and a half," she corrected automatically, "And yes, I expect to be the only woman who makes out with you anywhere," she replied nonchalantly, smoothing down the front of her own uniform as best she could while still held so close to me.

"Would you let go of me for just one minute?" she commanded.

I shrugged, "I'd prefer not to, but Ok."

I kissed her forehead lightly and looked down at her for a long moment.

She smiled up at me and stepped backward out of my embrace.

"See," I informed her quietly as she stood at the door, "I don't have to say it."

"I know," she smiled, "But it's nice to hear."

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