Title: Just to talk
Author: Nan
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Mac/Harm
Spoilers: Take It Like a Man
Summary: The killing of Sadik is a watershed of sorts for Mac. Her life takes on a different meaning and she looks at the people around her through new eyes. This picks up the story of TILAM after she leaves Clays apartment at the end.
(For all those who don't know me, I'm a shipper...)
******************************************************************
0630 Zulu
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown
She ought to be asleep in bed. Morning would come soon enough. These days she needed every spare ounce of strength and concentration to face her CO and co-workers. One foot in front of the other. Take each day, one by one. Don't think about the past or future.
How amusing it all was. Her mindset was so different a few short days ago. That psychological rush of killing Sadik had tricked her. Office life had seemed so slow, so inconsequential when juxtaposed against killing an international terrorist who had come within ten minutes of bombing a nightclub only a short walk from her apartment. She and only she had stopped Sadik's rampage of killing and torture. The patrons of the club never knowing how close they came to tragedy. She was on the top.
But now the inevitable pendulum had swung again. Life had come crashing down around her. Yesterday, in court, she barely hung on to the meager defense of Corporal Strange, winning in the end only her sanity and the reluctant endorsement of her CO. Close to the precipice that was her sanity. Almost plunging over the edge.
She uncurled her legs and stretched out on her couch in the darken living room, reaching for a small wool throw. She would sleep here tonight. Not her bedroom. Somehow, the gleaming image of the small diamond on her bedspread was still too vivid. Sadik was still alive in her mind, mocking her. He had been so close, using her own apartment to remind her how vulnerable she was. Basic psy-ops 1000 indeed.
She could have slept at Clay's. He wanted her to stay. But somehow, that pendulum had swung there too. Earlier in the week, she couldn't keep her hands off him. Now sex with Clay held no attraction and some disgust. Disgust at herself when she realized the desire had nothing to do with the man.
Clay. She sighed. They had gone through so much in the past week. So many ups and downs. What had happened to those feelings she had after Paraguay? She had been so sure. There had been a passion and intensity that she had never known before. She had felt so alive.
It was that feeling of hyper-awareness which she had failed to explain to Harm at the taxi stand in front of the hotel in Paraguay, so many months ago.
At the time, his "Scarlett" comment had made her angry. All of Harm's efforts in Paraguay had made her angry. Angry that it had been Harm that stopped Sadik, not Clay or herself. Harm, predictably, was jealous of Clay. He was only in Paraguay to play hero again.
But was that how it really was? Did Harm come to Paraguay only out of jealousy for Clay?
Even in death, Sadik continued to unravel her life. Her own reaction to his death had been astonishing. The intensity of emotion had almost overwhelmed her. She had been so close to breaking her six years of sobriety. She had pursued sex with Clay without regard for his feelings or her own self-respect. She had been relentless to the point of cruelty with a witness in a trial. She had yelled at the Admiral.
And then there were her violent disagreements with Clay. Mac had accused Webb of being jealousy of her for killing Sadik. When the words came out of her mouth, she recognized them. She had said a similar thing to Harm in Paraguay.
Harm. All of the things she had done, post-Sadik, it was the comments to Harm she was most ashamed of. She had belittled Harm's efforts toward Mattie and Sergi with a few skillful sentences. More importantly, she said he really didn't care.
She insulted him, as per standard operating procedure and predictably, he insulted in turn. And really, with all that had gone on in her recent life, her words were comparatively mild. Her conversations with Clay had been much more volatile and insulting. But she saw something in Harm's eyes that she hadn't recognized before. There was a depth of hurt that was overwhelming.
It was like she had been stabbing him with a knife, repeatedly, and he couldn't take it any longer.
Harm. God, killing Sadik had taught her so much. There was something about Sadik, his mind games, torture and her anger that set this apart. This was about murder and vengeance.
Harm. Something about this made him seem so different.
The admiral and Harm. All of sudden the relationship between Admiral Chegwidden and Harm made sense. Mac, along with almost every other person at JAG, always wondered why the Admiral seemed to be so hard on Harm. As Harm's list of accomplishments grew, so did the admiral's anger. Or so it seemed.
Now it fell into place. The admiral's anger grounded Harm. Before the rush of the kill, the overwhelming sense of self-importance, along with the dark thoughts of doubt became over-powering and ruined his life, Chegwidden's words helped Harm to maintain perspective and balance.
Mac grinned at herself in the dark. Maybe that's what she needed too. A good dressing-down from Admiral Chegwidden to get her mind back to the minutiae of everyday JAG life. To help her forget Sadik.
She sighed. Maybe she should take the Navy Psychologist up on her offer. Maybe there was some value to seeing her - just to talk.
NO. She clenched her fist in the dark. It just felt wrong to speak to someone who had never lived this before. Sure, the commander had studied textbooks about the clinical reactions to this type of situation. She knew all about posttraumatic stress syndrome. But it was still just theoretical to her. And Mac knew, as much as the doctor tried to hide it, she was being judged. And Mac's checkered past would shock most people. And right, now that was the last thing Mac needed.
That really left few people for Mac to talk to. In the past, she might have gone to Admiral Chegwidden. But lately, he seemed distant and unapproachable. And right now, she really needed to prove herself to him. Any shocking confessions might just convince him that she was really a candidate for the looney bin.
Tonight's conversation with Clay tonight had gone a long way. It had taken awhile to get Clay to listen. Reluctantly he did and it was positive. He knew what it was like and how she felt. He didn't judge her. That felt good.
But Clay could never understand it all. As a member of the CIA, he had long ago made many moral compromises. This is where they differed. As a JAG lawyer, her whole life was based on defining moral issues. As a marine, sorting out the right from the wrong meant something. Not in Clay's world. For his own mental sanity, ethical concessions were essential.
Mac stared into the darkness of her apartment, seeing nothing. In so many ways, it all came back to Harm.
In some way, she knew he already understood. She replayed yesterday's courtroom debate in her mind. Never straying from discussing the case of Corporal Strange, he had asked her for an apology. And she had responded, talking about Strange and his reason for the medal fraud. But she had known that Harm recognized the implied apology and forgiven her for her recent harsh words, if nothing else.
Funny how 'in-tuned' they were for that brief moment. How right now, she understood Harm with a clarity she had never known.
What had she told Clay? "You don't understand anything about Harm..." In reality, she didn't really understand anything about Harm.
Maybe that was it. The silver lining in the dark cloud of Sadik. She was beginning to understand Harm. Why it was so hard for him to let his real feelings show. Why it was so important to protect his friends. What the real meaning of heroism was. How Harm compromised his soul. Why he did the things he did.
There was one person she could talk to. One person who would understand. And it was time to mend fences. Time to fight her way back into his friendship and respect.
Ignoring the early morning hour, she sat up on the couch and reached for her phone. She dialed a familiar number. She needed him. Just to talk.
Author: Nan
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Mac/Harm
Spoilers: Take It Like a Man
Summary: The killing of Sadik is a watershed of sorts for Mac. Her life takes on a different meaning and she looks at the people around her through new eyes. This picks up the story of TILAM after she leaves Clays apartment at the end.
(For all those who don't know me, I'm a shipper...)
******************************************************************
0630 Zulu
Mac's Apartment
Georgetown
She ought to be asleep in bed. Morning would come soon enough. These days she needed every spare ounce of strength and concentration to face her CO and co-workers. One foot in front of the other. Take each day, one by one. Don't think about the past or future.
How amusing it all was. Her mindset was so different a few short days ago. That psychological rush of killing Sadik had tricked her. Office life had seemed so slow, so inconsequential when juxtaposed against killing an international terrorist who had come within ten minutes of bombing a nightclub only a short walk from her apartment. She and only she had stopped Sadik's rampage of killing and torture. The patrons of the club never knowing how close they came to tragedy. She was on the top.
But now the inevitable pendulum had swung again. Life had come crashing down around her. Yesterday, in court, she barely hung on to the meager defense of Corporal Strange, winning in the end only her sanity and the reluctant endorsement of her CO. Close to the precipice that was her sanity. Almost plunging over the edge.
She uncurled her legs and stretched out on her couch in the darken living room, reaching for a small wool throw. She would sleep here tonight. Not her bedroom. Somehow, the gleaming image of the small diamond on her bedspread was still too vivid. Sadik was still alive in her mind, mocking her. He had been so close, using her own apartment to remind her how vulnerable she was. Basic psy-ops 1000 indeed.
She could have slept at Clay's. He wanted her to stay. But somehow, that pendulum had swung there too. Earlier in the week, she couldn't keep her hands off him. Now sex with Clay held no attraction and some disgust. Disgust at herself when she realized the desire had nothing to do with the man.
Clay. She sighed. They had gone through so much in the past week. So many ups and downs. What had happened to those feelings she had after Paraguay? She had been so sure. There had been a passion and intensity that she had never known before. She had felt so alive.
It was that feeling of hyper-awareness which she had failed to explain to Harm at the taxi stand in front of the hotel in Paraguay, so many months ago.
At the time, his "Scarlett" comment had made her angry. All of Harm's efforts in Paraguay had made her angry. Angry that it had been Harm that stopped Sadik, not Clay or herself. Harm, predictably, was jealous of Clay. He was only in Paraguay to play hero again.
But was that how it really was? Did Harm come to Paraguay only out of jealousy for Clay?
Even in death, Sadik continued to unravel her life. Her own reaction to his death had been astonishing. The intensity of emotion had almost overwhelmed her. She had been so close to breaking her six years of sobriety. She had pursued sex with Clay without regard for his feelings or her own self-respect. She had been relentless to the point of cruelty with a witness in a trial. She had yelled at the Admiral.
And then there were her violent disagreements with Clay. Mac had accused Webb of being jealousy of her for killing Sadik. When the words came out of her mouth, she recognized them. She had said a similar thing to Harm in Paraguay.
Harm. All of the things she had done, post-Sadik, it was the comments to Harm she was most ashamed of. She had belittled Harm's efforts toward Mattie and Sergi with a few skillful sentences. More importantly, she said he really didn't care.
She insulted him, as per standard operating procedure and predictably, he insulted in turn. And really, with all that had gone on in her recent life, her words were comparatively mild. Her conversations with Clay had been much more volatile and insulting. But she saw something in Harm's eyes that she hadn't recognized before. There was a depth of hurt that was overwhelming.
It was like she had been stabbing him with a knife, repeatedly, and he couldn't take it any longer.
Harm. God, killing Sadik had taught her so much. There was something about Sadik, his mind games, torture and her anger that set this apart. This was about murder and vengeance.
Harm. Something about this made him seem so different.
The admiral and Harm. All of sudden the relationship between Admiral Chegwidden and Harm made sense. Mac, along with almost every other person at JAG, always wondered why the Admiral seemed to be so hard on Harm. As Harm's list of accomplishments grew, so did the admiral's anger. Or so it seemed.
Now it fell into place. The admiral's anger grounded Harm. Before the rush of the kill, the overwhelming sense of self-importance, along with the dark thoughts of doubt became over-powering and ruined his life, Chegwidden's words helped Harm to maintain perspective and balance.
Mac grinned at herself in the dark. Maybe that's what she needed too. A good dressing-down from Admiral Chegwidden to get her mind back to the minutiae of everyday JAG life. To help her forget Sadik.
She sighed. Maybe she should take the Navy Psychologist up on her offer. Maybe there was some value to seeing her - just to talk.
NO. She clenched her fist in the dark. It just felt wrong to speak to someone who had never lived this before. Sure, the commander had studied textbooks about the clinical reactions to this type of situation. She knew all about posttraumatic stress syndrome. But it was still just theoretical to her. And Mac knew, as much as the doctor tried to hide it, she was being judged. And Mac's checkered past would shock most people. And right, now that was the last thing Mac needed.
That really left few people for Mac to talk to. In the past, she might have gone to Admiral Chegwidden. But lately, he seemed distant and unapproachable. And right now, she really needed to prove herself to him. Any shocking confessions might just convince him that she was really a candidate for the looney bin.
Tonight's conversation with Clay tonight had gone a long way. It had taken awhile to get Clay to listen. Reluctantly he did and it was positive. He knew what it was like and how she felt. He didn't judge her. That felt good.
But Clay could never understand it all. As a member of the CIA, he had long ago made many moral compromises. This is where they differed. As a JAG lawyer, her whole life was based on defining moral issues. As a marine, sorting out the right from the wrong meant something. Not in Clay's world. For his own mental sanity, ethical concessions were essential.
Mac stared into the darkness of her apartment, seeing nothing. In so many ways, it all came back to Harm.
In some way, she knew he already understood. She replayed yesterday's courtroom debate in her mind. Never straying from discussing the case of Corporal Strange, he had asked her for an apology. And she had responded, talking about Strange and his reason for the medal fraud. But she had known that Harm recognized the implied apology and forgiven her for her recent harsh words, if nothing else.
Funny how 'in-tuned' they were for that brief moment. How right now, she understood Harm with a clarity she had never known.
What had she told Clay? "You don't understand anything about Harm..." In reality, she didn't really understand anything about Harm.
Maybe that was it. The silver lining in the dark cloud of Sadik. She was beginning to understand Harm. Why it was so hard for him to let his real feelings show. Why it was so important to protect his friends. What the real meaning of heroism was. How Harm compromised his soul. Why he did the things he did.
There was one person she could talk to. One person who would understand. And it was time to mend fences. Time to fight her way back into his friendship and respect.
Ignoring the early morning hour, she sat up on the couch and reached for her phone. She dialed a familiar number. She needed him. Just to talk.