Murphy's Law
By LauraBF
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine! They can have all of my Oreos™ and my sticker collection for them!
Author's Note: My thanks go to my super-secret beta reader and to Ann, both of whom got me hooked on JAG and pulled me with them from Lois and Clark. This is for you two--and I still say that it's your fault. After all, one must assign blame where it is due! ;)
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0800 Zulu
February 21, 2004
Mac's Apartment
Mac sat straight up in bed, covered her face with her hands, and desperately tried to quell her tears. Another night, another nightmare. Another night waiting for him to come home. She drew in a deep breath and stared at the ring on her finger, his last words to her echoing in her ears. 'I love you, Sarah Mackenzie, and I'll come back, I swear it.' Mac bit her lip and swallowed against the lump in her throat. He had promised, and despite what the Navy thought, he wasn't dead. She'd know if he were.
She closed her eyes and smiled faintly as she remembered the laughter lurking in his eyes as he'd proposed to her. It just didn't seem possible that her sailor was MIA and presumed dead. Mac pulled her blanket up, shivered and buried her nose in the pillow that she'd claimed from his place the day he had shipped out. They hadn't been dating long when he'd proposed, so they'd decided to take the physical side of their relationship slowly. They hadn't gone beyond a little making out when his orders had come through. It was only since she'd received word of the crash that she'd regretted their decision.
If he didn't come back, at least she could've had the possibility of carrying his child. Sometimes she envied Trish--when her husband had gone MIA, she'd at least had Harm. Mac knew that he was still alive, but with where his plane had gone down, that status could change rather quickly. A sob caught in her throat, and silent tears began to trickle down her face. For a month, she had lived with the hope that he would find a way to contact her to let her know that he was all right. He could be hurt, or sick, or... It was the not knowing was the worst.
Mac shut her eyes tightly and forced herself to remember a time before everything had gone merrily to hell.
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1830 Zulu
December 15, 2003
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
"Rabb, Mackenzie, in my office, *now*!" The Admiral's voice rang out over the bullpen. Mac and Harm exchanged a glance before hurrying towards their CO's office. AJ grimaced as the pair snapped to attention in front of him. He didn't want to give them this particular bit of news--not when they'd finally begun to work things out between them.
"At ease," he said. "Commander, I've been on the phone with the SECNAV, trying to get the orders I received for you rescinded, because as much as you're a pain in the ass, we're too short handed around here to lose you."
"Orders, sir?" Harm asked.
AJ picked up a packet and handed it to him. "You both know that hostilities have escalated lately, and they're now calling all the pilots out for carrier duty. Colonel, I'm gong to need you to take over the bulk of the Commander's case load, since yours is light right now."
"Aye, sir," she said quietly.
Harm opened the packet slowly and grimaced as he saw his new orders. "Back to the Patrick Henry," he said, sounding resigned.
"Commander, I'm making this an order--get your six back here as soon as they'll let you, because I can't afford to be short a lawyer for that long."
"Aye, aye, Sir," he answered, snapping back to attention.
"Colonel," AJ began, looking at her.
"Yes, sir?" she asked.
"I need you to get Lieutenant Roberts in here for me."
"Aye, sir."
"Dismissed." He watched as they snapped to attention before they headed back out into the bullpen. He knew he'd screwed up royally when he hadn't held on to the Commander's resignation, but he'd just gotten so mad that he hadn't been thinking straight. The same had gone for chewing him out in front of Mac. He knew he shouldn't have done it, but at the time, he couldn't help himself. He sighed and ran his hand over his face.
Rabb had that effect on him. The Commander had a gift for making him mad faster than any other officer who he'd had under his command--and make him prouder than any other officer at the same time. AJ slumped back in his chair and absently began to shuffle through the papers on his desk. It simply wouldn't be the same with Rabb back on a carrier; the office would be a hell of a lot quieter without him.
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2330 Zulu
December 15, 2003
Harm's Apartment
North of Union Station
Mac leaned against Harm's shoulder and slipped her fingers through his. "When do you have to report," she asked softly.
"Thursday," he answered, absently playing with her fingers. "Sarah," he whispered. "I'm not sure I can do this."
Mac smiled mischievously. "What? Fly a plane?" She patted him on the chest. "Never thought I'd see the day where you weren't happy about the idea of flying a tomcat, flyboy." She kissed him on the cheek. "Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?" She laughed quietly and settled her head back on his shoulder.
"It's not flying, ninja-girl." He freed his hand and cupped her cheek in his palm. "Sarah, it's leaving you." Harm leaned down and kissed her upturned lips gently. "I know I've only said it once or twice, but I love you," he whispered.
Mac sat up a little straighter, reluctantly relinquishing her place on his shoulder. "I love you, too," she said before she kissed him. She threaded her fingers through his short, dark hair, pulling him closer as she devoured his mouth. She swept her tongue across his lips, requesting entrance. His mouth opened under hers, and they began to explore, losing themselves in each other. Slowly, their lips separated, and she gasped for air as Harm began to pepper kisses all over her face, breathing heavily.
Harm wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer, before he worked his way back to her mouth and kissed her slowly, lingeringly. He brought his hands up to tangle in her silky dark hair, pulling her as close to him as the restraints of clothing would allow. Their mouths clasped and unclasped wetly, tongues tangling, and passions flared. He broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, panting. "I still don't think I can leave you, Sarah."
Harm grinned and pulled back to look at her. "Want to stowaway?" he offered. "You can sleep in my bunk with me."
Mac chuckled and kissed him again. "That'd go over *real* well," she said dryly. "JAG Marine Colonel goes UA to hotbunk with her JAG Navy pilot boyfriend--are you looking to get *both* of us court-martialed, mister?" She slapped him lightly on the chest and leaned back against his chest.
"Boyfriend? Is that it?" he asked, teasingly.
Mac reached for his hand and threaded her fingers through his again. "Last I checked," she said quietly. "You're my best friend, squid--and my boyfriend."
"I'd like to change that status, marine," he said, reaching into his pocket for something.
Mac bit the inside of her lip, hoping that he meant something more, but at the same time, a cold trickle of fear ran through her at the thought that, despite what he'd said a few moments earlier, that he wanted to go back to just being friends.
Harm pulled an old, black velvet box out of his pocket and opened it. "I don't want to leave you, Sarah," he whispered. "Now, or ever. I got Gram to send this to me when we started dating; and this whole mess just made me speed up my timeline."
Mac looked at the box, and then at Harm's face. "Is this what I think it is?" she asked hoarsely.
Harm nodded, and pulled a diamond and sapphire ring out of the box. "Sarah Catherine Mackenzie, will you marry me?" he asked, offering her the ring.
Mac took the ring and slid it on her finger. "Yes," she whispered, then kissed him again.
One kiss turned into many and they began to escalate before Harm pulled back. "Not yet," he said, his voice husky with desire. "I don't want our first time to be tainted with goodbyes."
Mac sighed and cuddled closer. "I'm not sure I like it, but I understand," she said. She fiddled with the ring on her finger. "I wish that guys got one of these, too," she muttered.
Harm looked at her, surprised by the sudden change of subject." "Why?" he asked.
"Because," she said as she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "Then I could declare you off limits to all of the blonde bimbos out there."
"Ma-a-c," he groaned.
She looked at him and grinned. "Hey, we could always get 'Property of a US Marine' tattooed on your forehead."
Harm simply groaned again and shook his head. "I'll make you a deal--no tattoos on visible parts of my body, and I'll wear a Marine t-shirt if you get me one."
"You got it, flyboy," she said, snuggling into him. They sat together on the couch, exchanging an occasional kiss, happy to be together for as long as they could before the fast-approaching separation.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
1040 Zulu
January 20, 2004
Somewhere over Afghanistan
Harm flew low over the target and locked on. "Target sighted, deploying missiles," he said, pushing the correct button.
Just as the missiles left for their intended target, one came seemingly out of nowhere, headed straight for the portside engine. "Hammer, we've got a bogey coming right for us."
"I see it, Skates," he said, trying to avoid it. "Engaging in evasive maneuvers." Harm veered away from the projectile, but was unable to avoid it as it lodged in his wing and blew up the engine and wing.
"Mayday, mayday we can't make it back to feet wet," he said, "Skates, punch out!"
"Punching out, sir. And--I'll see you dirtside."
The canopy blew and he could see Skates's parachute deploy. He hit the switch for his own ejection seat, but it was jammed. "I can't punch out--it's stuck." As the tomcat went down, he yanked frantically at the switch until it came off in his hand. He hit the emergency override and was finally rewarded with the damn device working just before he became a recently smashed bug.
Harm landed a few feet from the destroyed plane and struggled out of harness. He stood, dragging his equipment with him. Before he could do much of anything, the plane exploded, sending shrapnel flying in every direction. He gasped as fiery pain tore into him from his right leg and his abdomen.
The force of the blast threw him to the sandy ground. After a few minutes, he drew in a deep breath and stood, gritting his teeth against the pain. Slowly, he dragged himself away from the plane and began to walk through the desert. Someone would be there soon to investigate the crash, and he didn't want to end up as a POW. He was sure that the longer he evaded capture, the better off he would be.
Harm walked, his thoughts consumed with what would happen when Mac heard what had happened to him. He had to manage to get home. No matter what, he couldn't let her think that he was dead. He pressed his hand against the wound in his abdomen, trying to stop the bleeding. Soon, however, blood loss overtook him and he collapsed, falling face down on to the ground.
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