Disclaimer in the prologue
A/N: Despite getting a slight mention in this chapter, this is not a baby
deal fic. (
Chapter 1: Just Friends
March 30, 2004 2215 ZULU JAG HQ
Harm leaned against the doorframe to Mac's office, one lip quirked up in amusement. "Are you trying absorb the words by osmosis?" he asked.
"Something like that," she agreed wearily, lifting her head from where it had been resting on an open file.
"I heard you had a rough time, getting the private to Miramar."
She rocked back in her chair before answering. "It was a long trip."
He looked at her for a moment before speaking again, taking in the and the exhaustion in her eyes. Formulating an idea, he asked, "Do you have plans for dinner tonight, Mac?"
"Clay's out of town," she said, shaking her head negatively. "What did you have in mind?"
"Why don't you come over to my place?" he suggested. "I'll cook... something."
"I don't think I can handle a family dinner right now Harm," she said, assuming Mattie and Jen would be joining them.
"Hmm? Oh, the girls are going shopping this evening," he told her when he realized what she meant. "Mattie said something about needing a prom dress, but until I see it, I'm denying prom even exists," he added, taking pleasure in the humor he saw sparkle in her eyes.
"Shouldn't you wait to play over-protective father until you see what the dress looks like?" she teased.
"Mac, unless it's floor length with long sleeves and a veil, it won't be enough," Harm insisted. "Oh, you laugh now Marine, but just wait until you have a beautiful 15 year old daughter getting ready for her first dance. You'll be singing a different tune then."
"We'll see," she replied distantly. "So what time did you want me to come over?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Do you have a change of clothes in the 'Vette?" When she nodded, he said, "Then why don't you just follow me home? You can make the salad and set the table."
"Sure, just let me grab my files," she said, starting to gather them into a pile.
"Mac, this isn't a working dinner," he told her. When she looked at him, surprised, he went on. "This is a 'my best friend looks like she desperately needs a break' dinner. If you want to discuss the case over coffee afterwards, go ahead and bring the files. Otherwise, just leave them for morning."
"I can't remember the last meal I ate without a file open on my lap," she mumbled, taking one last look at her desk before standing up. "But I'm certainly not going to argue with you," she decided, grabbing her cover and leaving the briefcase behind. "Let's go."
Thirty minutes later they were walking up the stairs to his loft, side by side. "Go ahead and get changed while I start things in the kitchen," Harm told her as they entered the apartment.
"Just make sure you leave the salad for me—I've got to earn my keep."
"I won't even get the lettuce out of the fridge."
"You'd better not," she said as she went into the bedroom, smiling when she heard the laughter her mock threat had generated.
Wandering over to the corner for privacy, she stripped her uniform blouse off and folded it neatly, setting it down on the bed. The lines of fatigue around her eyes softened as she anticipated a relaxing evening. The last several months had been anything but, and while she had begun to work through the fall out of Paraguay and Sadik Fahd, there was still a lot of tension left over. Hopefully tonight would be another step toward erasing that and regaining a normal life.
Memories of similar evenings crossed her mind—take out eaten over case files, watching the late night movies together, time spent just enjoying their friendship. "Life was simpler then, but there's no reason it can't be like that again," she told herself.
When her head popped out through the neck of her t-shirt, she caught sight of a familiar picture on his night table. Sitting down softly on the bed, she picked it up, smiling wistfully at the image of them together at AJ's christening. Harm's words from earlier came to mind again; "Just wait until you have a beautiful 15 year old daughter..."
Forcing the sudden deluge of "if onlys" from her mind, she reminded herself that her relationship with Clay made their deal null and void. "Not that he'd be interested anyway... too much water has gone under the bridge," she muttered, stuffing her uniform in her bag and leaving the bedroom.
"Your turn," she said lightly when she stepped into the kitchen.
"It's about time," he said teasingly, closing the oven and setting the timer for five minutes. "I was starting to think you'd gotten lost in there."
"Hardly," she snorted while rummaging through the refrigerator for veggies. "Your bedroom isn't quite that big Harm," she pointed out.
"I've never received any complaints," he said with a shrug, delighting in the blush that crept up her face.
"Just go get changed, would you?" she growled, grabbing a knife from the butcher's block. "I'm getting hungry."
"Okay, hungry Marine holding a sharp knife... I'll be back ASAP," he promised, back away from her with his hands held out protectively.
"Go!" she ordered, brandishing the French knife as he disappeared into the bedroom.
"And so begins phase one," Harm thought, unbuttoning his uniform shirt and carefully hanging it in the closet. "In my dream, one of my biggest mistakes was not respecting Mac's choices... not trusting her to know her own heart.
"I've made that mistake once," he realized. "If you need me at your wedding, maybe you ought to reconsider who you're marrying."
Shaking his head at his own follies, he started to understand the part he had played in the comedy of errors that was their relationship. "That's not exactly the best way to tell a woman you want to marry her," he told himself derisively, a new thought occurring to him. "Actually, I bet she didn't hear that... all she heard was that I thought she needed help picking a husband. And I wondered why things never worked for us."
"Harm, dinner's on the table," Mac called just as he was buttoning his jeans. "Are you ready?"
"Absolutely," he said, coming out to join her at the table.
"The question is, are you? I'm going to be supportive of Clay even if kills me, and I'm going to show you our relationship isn't a dead end. Ready or not Mac, here I come!"
Chapter 1: Just Friends
March 30, 2004 2215 ZULU JAG HQ
Harm leaned against the doorframe to Mac's office, one lip quirked up in amusement. "Are you trying absorb the words by osmosis?" he asked.
"Something like that," she agreed wearily, lifting her head from where it had been resting on an open file.
"I heard you had a rough time, getting the private to Miramar."
She rocked back in her chair before answering. "It was a long trip."
He looked at her for a moment before speaking again, taking in the and the exhaustion in her eyes. Formulating an idea, he asked, "Do you have plans for dinner tonight, Mac?"
"Clay's out of town," she said, shaking her head negatively. "What did you have in mind?"
"Why don't you come over to my place?" he suggested. "I'll cook... something."
"I don't think I can handle a family dinner right now Harm," she said, assuming Mattie and Jen would be joining them.
"Hmm? Oh, the girls are going shopping this evening," he told her when he realized what she meant. "Mattie said something about needing a prom dress, but until I see it, I'm denying prom even exists," he added, taking pleasure in the humor he saw sparkle in her eyes.
"Shouldn't you wait to play over-protective father until you see what the dress looks like?" she teased.
"Mac, unless it's floor length with long sleeves and a veil, it won't be enough," Harm insisted. "Oh, you laugh now Marine, but just wait until you have a beautiful 15 year old daughter getting ready for her first dance. You'll be singing a different tune then."
"We'll see," she replied distantly. "So what time did you want me to come over?" she asked, changing the subject.
"Do you have a change of clothes in the 'Vette?" When she nodded, he said, "Then why don't you just follow me home? You can make the salad and set the table."
"Sure, just let me grab my files," she said, starting to gather them into a pile.
"Mac, this isn't a working dinner," he told her. When she looked at him, surprised, he went on. "This is a 'my best friend looks like she desperately needs a break' dinner. If you want to discuss the case over coffee afterwards, go ahead and bring the files. Otherwise, just leave them for morning."
"I can't remember the last meal I ate without a file open on my lap," she mumbled, taking one last look at her desk before standing up. "But I'm certainly not going to argue with you," she decided, grabbing her cover and leaving the briefcase behind. "Let's go."
Thirty minutes later they were walking up the stairs to his loft, side by side. "Go ahead and get changed while I start things in the kitchen," Harm told her as they entered the apartment.
"Just make sure you leave the salad for me—I've got to earn my keep."
"I won't even get the lettuce out of the fridge."
"You'd better not," she said as she went into the bedroom, smiling when she heard the laughter her mock threat had generated.
Wandering over to the corner for privacy, she stripped her uniform blouse off and folded it neatly, setting it down on the bed. The lines of fatigue around her eyes softened as she anticipated a relaxing evening. The last several months had been anything but, and while she had begun to work through the fall out of Paraguay and Sadik Fahd, there was still a lot of tension left over. Hopefully tonight would be another step toward erasing that and regaining a normal life.
Memories of similar evenings crossed her mind—take out eaten over case files, watching the late night movies together, time spent just enjoying their friendship. "Life was simpler then, but there's no reason it can't be like that again," she told herself.
When her head popped out through the neck of her t-shirt, she caught sight of a familiar picture on his night table. Sitting down softly on the bed, she picked it up, smiling wistfully at the image of them together at AJ's christening. Harm's words from earlier came to mind again; "Just wait until you have a beautiful 15 year old daughter..."
Forcing the sudden deluge of "if onlys" from her mind, she reminded herself that her relationship with Clay made their deal null and void. "Not that he'd be interested anyway... too much water has gone under the bridge," she muttered, stuffing her uniform in her bag and leaving the bedroom.
"Your turn," she said lightly when she stepped into the kitchen.
"It's about time," he said teasingly, closing the oven and setting the timer for five minutes. "I was starting to think you'd gotten lost in there."
"Hardly," she snorted while rummaging through the refrigerator for veggies. "Your bedroom isn't quite that big Harm," she pointed out.
"I've never received any complaints," he said with a shrug, delighting in the blush that crept up her face.
"Just go get changed, would you?" she growled, grabbing a knife from the butcher's block. "I'm getting hungry."
"Okay, hungry Marine holding a sharp knife... I'll be back ASAP," he promised, back away from her with his hands held out protectively.
"Go!" she ordered, brandishing the French knife as he disappeared into the bedroom.
"And so begins phase one," Harm thought, unbuttoning his uniform shirt and carefully hanging it in the closet. "In my dream, one of my biggest mistakes was not respecting Mac's choices... not trusting her to know her own heart.
"I've made that mistake once," he realized. "If you need me at your wedding, maybe you ought to reconsider who you're marrying."
Shaking his head at his own follies, he started to understand the part he had played in the comedy of errors that was their relationship. "That's not exactly the best way to tell a woman you want to marry her," he told himself derisively, a new thought occurring to him. "Actually, I bet she didn't hear that... all she heard was that I thought she needed help picking a husband. And I wondered why things never worked for us."
"Harm, dinner's on the table," Mac called just as he was buttoning his jeans. "Are you ready?"
"Absolutely," he said, coming out to join her at the table.
"The question is, are you? I'm going to be supportive of Clay even if kills me, and I'm going to show you our relationship isn't a dead end. Ready or not Mac, here I come!"