Title: Flying High
Author: Pixie
Email: Pixie4@charter.net
Rating: R
Classification: Jag Story (Romance/Angst/Humor)
Spoilers: Anything's possible.
Feedback: Bring it on...The good, the bad, and the ugly. I can take it. I only ask that if it's bad or ugly you send it to me privately.
**** From Part 3 (In the highly unlikely event that you've actually forgotten where we left our heroes...) ****
Harm brought his hand around to cradle her cheek, then tilted her face so that he could see her eyes.
"Mac..."
"Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?" she asked, though her voice sounded uneven to her own ears. "Wouldn't you rather kiss me?"
**** Part 4 ****
"Is that an invitation?" The corners of his mouth twitched up.
"No. It's an order."
"Pulling rank, Colonel?" Humor and passion warred for dominance in his voice, and she dragged her eyes up from his lips, only to lose herself in the intensity of his gaze. There was something there that she'd never seen directed at her before, and it had the interesting and altogether delightful effect of turning her insides to jello. Then his head dipped toward her in an agonizingly slow movement that made her forget to breathe, and she froze in his arms, all of her attention focused on his face as it moved closer to her own. Unable to help herself, she stretched toward him, but he only smiled and feathered light kisses across her forehead and down her cheek.
Two could play at that game. Mac smoothed her hand up his side and across his chest, delighting in the solid feel of him, awed and amazed that she was finally free to give in to an urge that had often plagued her imagination. She lingered there for a moment, tracing patterns with her fingernails until she coaxed a low groan from him. Then she slid her hand back down, snaked it under his shirt, and walked her fingers up his rib cage.
"Mac..." The word rumbled through his chest beneath her hand, then exited his throat on a whisper of air that stirred the hair above her ear and sent a shiver down her spine. Reflexively, she wrapped her arms around him again, pulling herself closer as she dropped her head back. His arm came around her shoulders then, pillowing her head as his mouth crashed down on hers, all pretense of patience and subtlety abandoned in the sudden rush of fire that swept over them both, consuming them in a blaze that narrowed their world to one of sensation; of touch, and taste, and smell, and whispered words of love that only served to fan the flame to greater heights.
Later, Mac would have been hard pressed to tell the details of that first time together. Eight years of wanting had coalesced into an experience so intense as to be almost unbearable, her existence so closely bonded to his that for the first time she knew what poets and song writers meant by the phrase 'perfect love'. To be fair, there were moments of awkwardness, moments when passion overcame finesse, and one or the other of them had to make a subtle course correction, but rather than distracting from the experience, those occasions only made it more perfect, more real. When at last the final explosion roared through them, it swept with it all the pain and misunderstandings that plagued their past, leaving in its wake a peace and happiness that surpassed anything either had ever felt before.
As Mac slowly returned to reality, she found herself held close in Harm's arms, one leg curled between his, her head pillowed on his shoulder. She played idly with the damp, silky strands of hair on his chest while she waited for inspiration to strike. She knew she should say something, felt the silence between them stretch until it was almost palpable, but words failed her. What they had just shared had been beyond anything she had ever experienced, beyond any adjective she could pull out of her still muddled brain.
Harm was the first to speak, though she noticed in a self-satisfied way that his mouth worked silently a few times before he was finally able to activate his voice box.
"That was... incredible."
She propped herself on an elbow and traced the outline of his lips with her finger, surprised when his gentle nip sent a jolt through the body she'd thought couldn't possibly desire any more attention.
"I kind of enjoyed it myself. Want to try again?"
Her grin was impish, but she swallowed it in a hurry when Harm flipped her on her back and loomed over her, his own expression one of pure lust.
"Ready when you are, Marine."
"You have got to be joking."
He grinned and dropped a kiss on the end of her nose before collapsing onto the bed beside her and pulling her securely back into his arms.
"You'd better believe it," he said, after he'd arranged her to his satisfaction. "I think I need to start working out more. You set a deadly pace, woman."
"Speak for yourself, Flyboy."
He chuckled, and the sound tickled her cheek where it lay against his chest, drawing an answering smile in reply.
They were quiet for a while then, both savoring the utter relaxation that comes of being well and truly loved.
"Damn!"
The abrupt expletive caused Mac to prop herself on her elbow again, a curious look on her face.
"What's wrong?"
"Mac, I'm sorry. I screwed up."
"What do you mean?"
Instead of answering, he reached for his wallet, still tucked into the pocket of the jeans that had been discarded somewhat haphazardly beside the bed. When he pulled out a familiar foil packet with a sheepish expression on his face, Mac couldn't help herself, and burst into delighted laughter.
"What's so funny?"
"I didn't even think about protection. If you'll recall, we were a little...eager."
His grin turned smug.
"We were, weren't we." Then the smile disappeared and his expression became serious again. "Mac, I'm truly sorry."
"Don't worry about it, Harm. I'm on the pill. Have been for years." Then a thought occurred to her and she raised an eyebrow at him, biting back a grin. "You don't have any strange diseases, do you?"
His answer came in the form of a thrown pillow, and the fight was on. Harm was bigger, but Mac was fast and sly, ducking under and around his defenses at every opportunity. Twice the bedside lamp almost hit the floor, both times rescued by quick thinking and a willingness to take a sucker shot. The third time, they weren't so lucky. The lamp crashed to the floor and shattered, bringing an instant end to the impromptu battle as they knelt, shoulder to shoulder, on the edge of the mattress to survey the damage. Mac turned her head to look at Harm, a mischievous expression on her face.
"Now see what you did?"
"Me! You were the one that knocked it off the table..."
"You started it." At her smug reply and teasing grin he wrapped an arm around her and tumbled both of them back to the bed, pinning her body beneath his own in a move that brought them nose to nose, both still breathing hard from their pillow fight. And all at once, Mac's heart began to race for reasons that had nothing at all to do with pillow fights and everything in the world to do with the man who held her in his arms.
She gave in to temptation and pulled him in for a kiss, her lips moving softly against his while her hands buried themselves in his hair. Their loving was gentle this time; slow, and languid, and full of new discoveries and sighs of delight. When at last it was over, and she lay once more in his arms, Mac knew that nothing would ever induce her to let this man get away from her again. She had never in her entire life felt this treasured, this accepted, or this adored. She drifted into pleasant dreams, secure in the knowledge that she was truly and absolutely loved.
Several hours later, a cramp in Harm's arm roused him from a deep sleep. He smiled as he realized the reason for the cramp. Mac had turned in her sleep, spooning herself into him and wrapping his arm around her, snuggling it between her breasts the way a small child cuddles a favorite stuffed toy. They had neglected to close the curtains earlier, and now the light of a nearly full moon flooded into the room, suffusing her features with a pale glow that seemed almost fairy-like to him.
He eased his arm from beneath her, stifling a groan at the inevitable tingling that signaled a return of circulation. He knew it would be a while before the needle prickles would allow him to rest again, so he contented himself with watching her sleep, convinced that the fall of her lashes against her cheek was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Her skin, so unbelievably soft, called to him, her siren's song completely irresistible, even in slumber. Ever so gently, he reached to tuck a strand of hair behind one delicate ear, then rested his hand on her shoulder, amazed all over again at the paradox that was Mac. She was stronger than almost anybody he'd ever met, and also as delicate as fine lace.
She stretched in his arms and rolled toward him, her eyes blinking open in a manner that reminded him of a cat waking up from an afternoon nap in the sunshine.
"Hi."
"Hi yourself." He smiled at her, then traced his finger down the center of her face from forehead to chin, pleased when she caught his hand and brought it to her lips for a kiss.
"Are you hungry?" he asked. "I could call room service."
"That sounds heavenly." She stretched again, and Harm fought his body's instant response. "I think I'll take a bath while we wait." With a total lack of self-consciousness, she slipped from the bed, picked up her duffle bag, and padded to the bathroom, her every action seemingly calculated to drive him wild. The tactic, deliberate as it was, was also highly effective, and Harm stifled a groan as he flopped back to his pillow, only to sit bolt upright again at her sudden burst of delighted laughter.
"What's so funny?"
"Come see!" she called, merriment adding sparkle to her voice. When he arrived at the bathroom door, she was bent over the tub, adjusting the water temperature and adding something to the running water that was sending fragrant steam wafting into the air. He caught his breath at the sight, and it hit him that working with her was about to get a lot more complicated. He'd have to master levels of control that he never could have conceived of before. She turned then, caught the longing expression on his face, lobbed it back to him with a wink, and held up her discovery. His budding passion disappeared, replaced by laughter.
"Where'd that come from?"
"It was here, on the edge of the tub!"
"You're joking."
"Nope."
She squeezed the small yellow duck. It squeaked obligingly, and they laughed at it.
"Do you suppose the admiral's figured out who put them in the water cooler?" he asked, still chuckling.
"No idea. Do you know who it was?"
"Nope. We were together all morning that day, remember?"
"Yeah. I remember." A shadow flickered across her face so quickly he almost thought he'd imagined it. Then she turned and stepped into the steaming bathwater, sliding into it with a contented sigh that was almost a purr.
"Enjoy your bath. I'll go see what I can scrounge up for us to eat."
He turned and left, humming softly under his breath. From behind him, Mac's voice chimed in.
"Rubber ducky, you're the one. You make bath time, lots of fun."
She continued to sing softly and he grinned while he hunted down the room service menu and placed their order. She segued to a lilting melody he didn't recognize and was still humming happily when room service arrived.
They ate by the window, their only light the moon and a single snow white candle. They'd worked up healthy appetites, and their conversation consisted mainly of appreciative comments about the food and offers to share this bite or that of some particularly delightful dish. When they'd finished, Harm took a shower and they brushed their teeth standing side by side at the sink, exactly like an old married couple, and the idea made them smile at each other in the mirror. Then he took her hand and led her back to bed, tucking her in beside him and pulling the covers up to her chin before he settled into his own pillow, contented in ways he'd never imagined it was possible to be.
The morning dawned gray and misty, as many Seattle mornings do, and Harm awoke slowly, pleasure winging through him when the first thing that greeted him was a pair of chocolate colored eyes and a warm feminine body snuggled close to his side. He had no idea how long she'd been watching him, but he knew she was a light sleeper and, that strangest of creatures, a morning person, so he suspected that she'd been awake for quite a while. He pulled her in for a soft kiss, unsurprised when even that light contact caused his heart to skip a beat and his body to spring to readiness. It occurred to him that if Mac ever became aware of her power over him she'd take shameless advantage of the fact, but somehow he didn't care.
"Good morning." His voice, rough with sleep, made her smile.
"Morning."
"What time is it?"
"It's early yet. 0617."
"Good." He couldn't resist. He had to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers again. He reached for her, running his hand down her arm, delighted at the slight shiver that rippled just beneath the surface of her skin.
She had to swallow before she could speak again. "Why?"
"Because it means we still have some time before we have to catch our flight."
Her eyes sparkled with mischief when she answered. "You're right. We could visit a museum, take a walk...Hey! I know! We can visit the Experience Music Project! I've heard it's pretty impressive."
"We could...but I have a better idea." He was not to be deterred. His hand skimmed across the smoothness of her stomach, and he smiled when he heard her soft intake of breath and saw her chest rise convulsively.
"You do?" Her voice was a mere whisper now as her hands began an expedition of their own.
"Yeah." He inhaled sharply as her clever fingers discovered a particularly sensitive part of his anatomy.
Her smile was smug, knowing. "Tell me."
"I'd rather show you."
She lay back on the pillows, stretched luxuriously, and smiled at him.
"So show me..."
They ended up nearly missing their flight again, but this time when they collapsed into their seats, they shared a smile full of warmth and humor.
Once they were airborne, Mac released her seatbelt and angled her body toward Harm's.
"You know, there's something we have to talk about."
"What's that?"
"Mattie? The Admiral? Our friends at JAG?"
"Oh."
"What do you want to do?"
He leered at her and she smacked his shoulder.
"You're insatiable, you know that?"
"Only with you, Mac."
She smiled and squeezed his hand, but she wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily.
"We need to figure this out, Harm."
"I'm not sure I want to tell people about us just yet."
"That could make it harder for us to spend time together."
"I can be incredibly creative when motivated."
"So I've seen." It was her turn to leer, and Harm had a hard time not kissing the look right off her face.
"We'll have to tell the admiral, though," he said, not looking forward to it.
"You're right. I wouldn't want to give Mercer grounds for an appeal."
His look was challenging.
"You seem pretty sure you'll get a conviction," he said.
"I am." Her smile was equally challenging.
"So what should we tell the admiral?"
"The truth, I guess."
"You want to tell the admiral we spent the last twelve hours making passionate love in a waterfront hotel?"
She smacked him on the shoulder again, but he just grinned unrepentantly.
"Of course not. I just think we should tell him we're..." She trailed off, unsure what label to put on their new relationship.
"Now there's a good point. What are we exactly?" he asked, raising a curious eyebrow.
"Dating?"
He mulled that over, nodded, and squeezed her hand.
"That'll do...for now."
"For now?"
"My plans are rather...longer range then dating might imply, but it'll work for the time being."
His eyes were serious as he twined his fingers with hers, but he didn't take the conversation any further. Instead he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, suddenly aware that he and Mac had done very little actual sleeping the night before. Within minutes, he was asleep.
1330 Zulu (0830 Local)
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
A.J. leaned back in his chair, observing the two attorneys who stood stiffly at attention before him, and wondering why they looked like a pair of nervous school children who'd been caught running with scissors. He decided to wait them out; see which one of them 'fessed up first.
The silence stretched. Apparently, neither of them wanted to be the bearer of bad news.
"Well?" he finally asked. "What is it? Is there a problem with the Mercer case?"
"No, Sir," said Harm.
"Yes, Sir," said Mac at the same time.
They exchanged guilty grins, and A.J. was immediately suspicious. It wasn't unusual for these two to disagree. It was unusual for them to smile about it. Usually when they disagreed, neither one of them was willing to give an inch to the other. Something was definitely up.
"Well? Which is it? Yes or no?" he barked, hoping to startle the truth out of them.
"Maybe, Sir?" It was Harm who finally decided to take the plunge.
"Maybe? What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"It means there's a potential problem, Sir."
"Well, don't keep me in suspense. What is it?"
Harm glanced at Mac again, but she merely shrugged helplessly. He rolled his eyes. It didn't look like she was going to be any help at all.
"Sir, while we were in Washington there were some...developments."
A.J.'s eyebrows flew up and he leaned forward.
"What kind of developments?"
"It's personal, Sir."
"If it's personal, what the hell's it got to do with the Mercer case?"
Mac stepped forward then, earning a grateful look from Harm.
"It affects the case because it's between us, Admiral."
A.J.'s chin jerked up then, dawning understanding clearing the puzzlement from his face. He stared at the two of them, focusing first on Harm, who stood straight and tall, evidently ready to take whatever punishment was about to land on his head, and then at Mac, who appeared just the tiniest bit nervous, but whose back was also ramrod straight, her chin high. Finally, he leaned back in his chair and laced his hands across his chest, fighting back a triumphant grin, determined to be properly military about it all. He couldn't resist one under the breath comment though, a comment that both officers had to strain to hear.
"Well, it's about damn time," he said. Then louder, "You're wondering if you should recuse yourselves from the case?"
"The thought did occur to us. Yes, Sir."
"Can you keep this thing out of the office?"
"Absolutely, Sir." Their voices, in chorus, had him fighting another grin.
"When's the trial?"
"It's scheduled to start on Thursday morning, Sir."
"And most of the ground work is already done?"
"Mine is, Sir," said Mac. "I just need to go over the forensic evidence."
"Same here, Sir. I'm only waiting on some discovery documents and then I should be good to go."
A.J. considered for a moment. These two were his best attorneys, and the trial, which didn't seem complicated, was just days away.
"You two are professionals. I'll trust you to keep your relationship from infringing on your duties, but if I hear so much as a hint of impropriety I'll have you both off the case and out of JAG faster then you can say surface warfare. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. Now get to work."
He turned back to the file that lay open on his desk.
"Sir?" Mac said, interrupting his train of thought.
He brought his head up, feigning irritation.
"Yes?"
"We're...not ready to publicize this yet. Would you mind terribly...?"
"Consider it done, Colonel. Nobody will hear about it from me."
Her sigh of relief almost made him smile again, and he ducked his head abruptly, waving them out of the room. Only after he heard the door close, the latch clicking softly into place, did he allow himself the freedom of a wide grin. He'd all but decided those two would never get their act together. Now that they had, he suspected that life at JAG was about to get very interesting indeed.
Mac followed Harm to his office.
"I need to make a trip in to D.C.," she said. "There's something I need to drop off with Agent Gibbs."
"New evidence?"
"Maybe. Something I found on that P-3 at Whidbey. I'll let you know if anything comes of it."
"I know you will. Dinner tonight?"
"Depends on what I hear from Gibbs."
"O.K., then. I'll see you when you get back."
"See you."
She sighed. Now that she'd become acquainted with the feel of his lips on hers, working with him had become a new kind of agony, one that she wouldn't trade for the world, but which nevertheless might just force her into a straightjacket before all was said and done.
He grinned, evidently very aware of her frustration.
"You ok?"
"I will be."
"I intend to make sure of that, Ninja Girl." The nickname, one she hadn't heard in years, combined with the suggestive way he used it, brought a flush to her cheeks, and she backed hastily out of his office, afraid that if she didn't escape - and quickly - they'd both end up facing conduct unbecoming charges. The warm sound of his laughter followed her all the way to her car and she was still smiling as she buckled her seatbelt and pulled down the sun visor.
It was ...snowing? Impossible, on a gorgeous spring day, but nonetheless, there it was. Tiny white flakes floated through the air, coming to rest in her lap, in her hair, and on the steering wheel and dashboard. When her initial surprise passed, the absurdity of her first assumption struck her, and she captured one of the tiny white slivers in her hand. It only took a second to recognize it as a discarded circle of paper from a hole punch. She shook her head like a dog coming out of water, and more of the little circles landed in her lap and on the floorboards of the car. Somebody had had some fun at her expense. She chuckled. First Harm and the elevator, then the little yellow ducks, and now this. She didn't know who had planned this particular stunt, but as she pulled out of her parking space and swung into traffic, she was already plotting her revenge.
A little while later, she pulled into the NCIS lot, checked herself over one final time, alert to the presence of any renegade "snowflakes," and stepped out of the car. Within minutes, she was escorted into the presence of Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. Mac didn't like Gibbs, hadn't liked him since he'd gone so single-mindedly after Harm when Singer was killed. She'd decided that he was the type of person who would do anything, step on anybody, in order to solve a case, so she didn't trust him and was wary of having any dealings with him that weren't absolutely necessary.
Gibbs was friendly enough when he greeted her, and Agent Dinozzo, her escort down to the forensics lab, positively oozed charm. She decided she didn't trust him, either.
Abby was a different story. She was quirky and funny and irreverent in a way Mac found amusing. She was also brilliant. When Mac pulled out the scrap of paper in its sealed plastic bag, the younger woman went straight to work, mumbling to herself about this test and that, fiber composition, dyes, and a host of other terms Mac didn't pretend to understand.
She looked over at Agent Dinozzo, and her puzzled expression made him laugh. "Don't mind her. I know she seems a little strange, but she's the best there is at what she does."
Abby looked up with a bright grin. "Why thank you, Tony. I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Then, "Colonel, it'll take me a few hours to analyze this. Should I have Agent Gibbs give you a call when I'm through?"
"If you would, yes. And the sooner the better. Opening arguments are scheduled for first thing Thursday morning."
"No problem. I'll get right on it."
"Thanks."
Mac turned back to Agent Dinozzo, who held the door for her to go out ahead of him. Together, they rode the elevator back up to the bullpen where Gibbs was ready with a packet of documents.
"Here's your forensic documentation. Let us know which items you need for court and we'll make sure you have them on Thursday."
"I'd rather have them today."
"We'll bring them on Thursday." He wouldn't be budged, and Mac decided not to push. After all, if he had the evidence, it'd be his fault if anything went wrong.
"Have your team there at 1230." She didn't bother explaining that the morning would be taken up with impaneling the members and opening remarks. Gibbs hadn't gotten to where he was today without knowing a thing or two about trials. "Is there someplace I can work for a few minutes? I'd like to go through this documentation before I drive all the way back to Falls Church."
"You can use Dinozzo's desk. Just shove the clutter aside."
Mac raised an eyebrow at Gibbs' high handed manner, but the younger agent had already sprung into action, clearing his desk and offering his chair with a flourish. She shrugged her shoulders and accepted the proffered seat, and minutes later she was checking the documents, oblivious to the controlled chaos around her. She quickly identified the search warrants, chemical analysis, and surveillance authorizations. She skimmed through the paperwork, noted that everything appeared to be in order, and slipped them back into their folder, then stood and pushed the chair in. Gibbs was nowhere in sight, but she wasn't particularly disappointed about that. Agent Dinozzo wasn't far off, though, and when he saw her stand he hurried over.
"Everything in order, Colonel?"
"It appears to be, Agent Dinozzo. Looks like your team did a good job."
"Thank you, Ma'am."
"I'll be expecting a call from Agent Gibbs this afternoon, but other then that, I think I've got everything."
"Give us a call if you need anything else."
"Will do."
She left him then, her mind already fitting the final pieces of her case into place. This afternoon and tomorrow she'd finish reviewing the forensic evidence. Then she'd have Wednesday to perfect her opening remarks. She'd be glad when this was over. She wasn't looking forward to facing Harm from opposite sides of the courtroom this time. Oh, she knew she could handle it. They were both professionals, after all. Still, it would be strange, and she'd be glad to put it behind her.
When she got back to her office, she had an email message waiting for her from Harm.
"Hey, Mac. If I'm going to be ready for trial Thursday morning, I'll need the rest of your discovery documents this afternoon. If that's going to be a problem, let me know, and I'll request a short continuance. Also, the girls and I are wondering if you would join us for dinner tonight. 1730? My place? ......Harm."
She smiled. Dinner with "the girls" wouldn't be her first choice of a way to spend an evening with Harm, but it was better then not seeing him at all. She decided to copy the documents now and deliver her acceptance personally. A few minutes later, she knocked on his doorjamb, unable to hold back a smile at the sight of his dark head bent over a file, hair slightly mussed from running his fingers through it. He did not appear to be having a good time. He raised his head distractedly at her knock, then leaned back and smiled when he saw who it was.
"Did you have a good trip?" he asked.
"A productive one anyway. Here are the rest of the discovery documents."
"Did you get my e-mail?" He looked hopeful, and she considered teasing him, but decided that would be cruel. It looked like he was already having a bad day.
"Yes. I'd be happy to join you for dinner tonight. What can I bring?"
"Just yourself."
"You sure?"
"Absolutely."
"O.K., I'll see you then." She turned to go, but he called her back, a puzzled tone to his voice that made her raise an eyebrow curiously.
"Mac?"
"What?"
"Come over here for a second."
That earned him a suspicious look.
"I promise," he was quick to reassure her. "I'll behave. It's just that you have something in your hair..."
He'd stood up and come over to her while he talked. Now, he plucked something from the back of her head and held it out to her.
"Have you been playing in the recycling bin again?" There was a twinkle in his eye, and although Mac was vaguely embarrassed at having traipsed all over NCIS with confetti in her hair, she couldn't manage to be angry.
"Somebody booby trapped my car."
"Oh?" That eyebrow again. He could say more with that little strip of dark hair than most people could with an encyclopedia.
"Yeah. I pulled down my sun visor and hundreds of those things dumped out all over me."
Harm laughed at the mental image, and Mac couldn't stop a grin of her own.
"Who did that?" he asked.
"Well, I was pretty sure you did, but your innocent act is either authentic or very well played, so now I'm not sure. You can bet I'll have my revenge, though."
"Oh, I'm sure you will, Mac."
She tossed him a look as she left that made him laugh outright, and though she was tempted to stay and soak up the sound, she knew she couldn't. There was work to be done, and she'd never finish it by camping out in Harm's office, pleasant though the prospect might be.
**** End Part 4 ****
AN: The Edgewater really does provide rubber ducks in their guest rooms. When Melissa and I found that out during our research for this story we knew that Harm and Mac couldn't possibly stay anyplace else. grin
Author: Pixie
Email: Pixie4@charter.net
Rating: R
Classification: Jag Story (Romance/Angst/Humor)
Spoilers: Anything's possible.
Feedback: Bring it on...The good, the bad, and the ugly. I can take it. I only ask that if it's bad or ugly you send it to me privately.
**** From Part 3 (In the highly unlikely event that you've actually forgotten where we left our heroes...) ****
Harm brought his hand around to cradle her cheek, then tilted her face so that he could see her eyes.
"Mac..."
"Has anybody ever told you that you talk too much?" she asked, though her voice sounded uneven to her own ears. "Wouldn't you rather kiss me?"
**** Part 4 ****
"Is that an invitation?" The corners of his mouth twitched up.
"No. It's an order."
"Pulling rank, Colonel?" Humor and passion warred for dominance in his voice, and she dragged her eyes up from his lips, only to lose herself in the intensity of his gaze. There was something there that she'd never seen directed at her before, and it had the interesting and altogether delightful effect of turning her insides to jello. Then his head dipped toward her in an agonizingly slow movement that made her forget to breathe, and she froze in his arms, all of her attention focused on his face as it moved closer to her own. Unable to help herself, she stretched toward him, but he only smiled and feathered light kisses across her forehead and down her cheek.
Two could play at that game. Mac smoothed her hand up his side and across his chest, delighting in the solid feel of him, awed and amazed that she was finally free to give in to an urge that had often plagued her imagination. She lingered there for a moment, tracing patterns with her fingernails until she coaxed a low groan from him. Then she slid her hand back down, snaked it under his shirt, and walked her fingers up his rib cage.
"Mac..." The word rumbled through his chest beneath her hand, then exited his throat on a whisper of air that stirred the hair above her ear and sent a shiver down her spine. Reflexively, she wrapped her arms around him again, pulling herself closer as she dropped her head back. His arm came around her shoulders then, pillowing her head as his mouth crashed down on hers, all pretense of patience and subtlety abandoned in the sudden rush of fire that swept over them both, consuming them in a blaze that narrowed their world to one of sensation; of touch, and taste, and smell, and whispered words of love that only served to fan the flame to greater heights.
Later, Mac would have been hard pressed to tell the details of that first time together. Eight years of wanting had coalesced into an experience so intense as to be almost unbearable, her existence so closely bonded to his that for the first time she knew what poets and song writers meant by the phrase 'perfect love'. To be fair, there were moments of awkwardness, moments when passion overcame finesse, and one or the other of them had to make a subtle course correction, but rather than distracting from the experience, those occasions only made it more perfect, more real. When at last the final explosion roared through them, it swept with it all the pain and misunderstandings that plagued their past, leaving in its wake a peace and happiness that surpassed anything either had ever felt before.
As Mac slowly returned to reality, she found herself held close in Harm's arms, one leg curled between his, her head pillowed on his shoulder. She played idly with the damp, silky strands of hair on his chest while she waited for inspiration to strike. She knew she should say something, felt the silence between them stretch until it was almost palpable, but words failed her. What they had just shared had been beyond anything she had ever experienced, beyond any adjective she could pull out of her still muddled brain.
Harm was the first to speak, though she noticed in a self-satisfied way that his mouth worked silently a few times before he was finally able to activate his voice box.
"That was... incredible."
She propped herself on an elbow and traced the outline of his lips with her finger, surprised when his gentle nip sent a jolt through the body she'd thought couldn't possibly desire any more attention.
"I kind of enjoyed it myself. Want to try again?"
Her grin was impish, but she swallowed it in a hurry when Harm flipped her on her back and loomed over her, his own expression one of pure lust.
"Ready when you are, Marine."
"You have got to be joking."
He grinned and dropped a kiss on the end of her nose before collapsing onto the bed beside her and pulling her securely back into his arms.
"You'd better believe it," he said, after he'd arranged her to his satisfaction. "I think I need to start working out more. You set a deadly pace, woman."
"Speak for yourself, Flyboy."
He chuckled, and the sound tickled her cheek where it lay against his chest, drawing an answering smile in reply.
They were quiet for a while then, both savoring the utter relaxation that comes of being well and truly loved.
"Damn!"
The abrupt expletive caused Mac to prop herself on her elbow again, a curious look on her face.
"What's wrong?"
"Mac, I'm sorry. I screwed up."
"What do you mean?"
Instead of answering, he reached for his wallet, still tucked into the pocket of the jeans that had been discarded somewhat haphazardly beside the bed. When he pulled out a familiar foil packet with a sheepish expression on his face, Mac couldn't help herself, and burst into delighted laughter.
"What's so funny?"
"I didn't even think about protection. If you'll recall, we were a little...eager."
His grin turned smug.
"We were, weren't we." Then the smile disappeared and his expression became serious again. "Mac, I'm truly sorry."
"Don't worry about it, Harm. I'm on the pill. Have been for years." Then a thought occurred to her and she raised an eyebrow at him, biting back a grin. "You don't have any strange diseases, do you?"
His answer came in the form of a thrown pillow, and the fight was on. Harm was bigger, but Mac was fast and sly, ducking under and around his defenses at every opportunity. Twice the bedside lamp almost hit the floor, both times rescued by quick thinking and a willingness to take a sucker shot. The third time, they weren't so lucky. The lamp crashed to the floor and shattered, bringing an instant end to the impromptu battle as they knelt, shoulder to shoulder, on the edge of the mattress to survey the damage. Mac turned her head to look at Harm, a mischievous expression on her face.
"Now see what you did?"
"Me! You were the one that knocked it off the table..."
"You started it." At her smug reply and teasing grin he wrapped an arm around her and tumbled both of them back to the bed, pinning her body beneath his own in a move that brought them nose to nose, both still breathing hard from their pillow fight. And all at once, Mac's heart began to race for reasons that had nothing at all to do with pillow fights and everything in the world to do with the man who held her in his arms.
She gave in to temptation and pulled him in for a kiss, her lips moving softly against his while her hands buried themselves in his hair. Their loving was gentle this time; slow, and languid, and full of new discoveries and sighs of delight. When at last it was over, and she lay once more in his arms, Mac knew that nothing would ever induce her to let this man get away from her again. She had never in her entire life felt this treasured, this accepted, or this adored. She drifted into pleasant dreams, secure in the knowledge that she was truly and absolutely loved.
Several hours later, a cramp in Harm's arm roused him from a deep sleep. He smiled as he realized the reason for the cramp. Mac had turned in her sleep, spooning herself into him and wrapping his arm around her, snuggling it between her breasts the way a small child cuddles a favorite stuffed toy. They had neglected to close the curtains earlier, and now the light of a nearly full moon flooded into the room, suffusing her features with a pale glow that seemed almost fairy-like to him.
He eased his arm from beneath her, stifling a groan at the inevitable tingling that signaled a return of circulation. He knew it would be a while before the needle prickles would allow him to rest again, so he contented himself with watching her sleep, convinced that the fall of her lashes against her cheek was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Her skin, so unbelievably soft, called to him, her siren's song completely irresistible, even in slumber. Ever so gently, he reached to tuck a strand of hair behind one delicate ear, then rested his hand on her shoulder, amazed all over again at the paradox that was Mac. She was stronger than almost anybody he'd ever met, and also as delicate as fine lace.
She stretched in his arms and rolled toward him, her eyes blinking open in a manner that reminded him of a cat waking up from an afternoon nap in the sunshine.
"Hi."
"Hi yourself." He smiled at her, then traced his finger down the center of her face from forehead to chin, pleased when she caught his hand and brought it to her lips for a kiss.
"Are you hungry?" he asked. "I could call room service."
"That sounds heavenly." She stretched again, and Harm fought his body's instant response. "I think I'll take a bath while we wait." With a total lack of self-consciousness, she slipped from the bed, picked up her duffle bag, and padded to the bathroom, her every action seemingly calculated to drive him wild. The tactic, deliberate as it was, was also highly effective, and Harm stifled a groan as he flopped back to his pillow, only to sit bolt upright again at her sudden burst of delighted laughter.
"What's so funny?"
"Come see!" she called, merriment adding sparkle to her voice. When he arrived at the bathroom door, she was bent over the tub, adjusting the water temperature and adding something to the running water that was sending fragrant steam wafting into the air. He caught his breath at the sight, and it hit him that working with her was about to get a lot more complicated. He'd have to master levels of control that he never could have conceived of before. She turned then, caught the longing expression on his face, lobbed it back to him with a wink, and held up her discovery. His budding passion disappeared, replaced by laughter.
"Where'd that come from?"
"It was here, on the edge of the tub!"
"You're joking."
"Nope."
She squeezed the small yellow duck. It squeaked obligingly, and they laughed at it.
"Do you suppose the admiral's figured out who put them in the water cooler?" he asked, still chuckling.
"No idea. Do you know who it was?"
"Nope. We were together all morning that day, remember?"
"Yeah. I remember." A shadow flickered across her face so quickly he almost thought he'd imagined it. Then she turned and stepped into the steaming bathwater, sliding into it with a contented sigh that was almost a purr.
"Enjoy your bath. I'll go see what I can scrounge up for us to eat."
He turned and left, humming softly under his breath. From behind him, Mac's voice chimed in.
"Rubber ducky, you're the one. You make bath time, lots of fun."
She continued to sing softly and he grinned while he hunted down the room service menu and placed their order. She segued to a lilting melody he didn't recognize and was still humming happily when room service arrived.
They ate by the window, their only light the moon and a single snow white candle. They'd worked up healthy appetites, and their conversation consisted mainly of appreciative comments about the food and offers to share this bite or that of some particularly delightful dish. When they'd finished, Harm took a shower and they brushed their teeth standing side by side at the sink, exactly like an old married couple, and the idea made them smile at each other in the mirror. Then he took her hand and led her back to bed, tucking her in beside him and pulling the covers up to her chin before he settled into his own pillow, contented in ways he'd never imagined it was possible to be.
The morning dawned gray and misty, as many Seattle mornings do, and Harm awoke slowly, pleasure winging through him when the first thing that greeted him was a pair of chocolate colored eyes and a warm feminine body snuggled close to his side. He had no idea how long she'd been watching him, but he knew she was a light sleeper and, that strangest of creatures, a morning person, so he suspected that she'd been awake for quite a while. He pulled her in for a soft kiss, unsurprised when even that light contact caused his heart to skip a beat and his body to spring to readiness. It occurred to him that if Mac ever became aware of her power over him she'd take shameless advantage of the fact, but somehow he didn't care.
"Good morning." His voice, rough with sleep, made her smile.
"Morning."
"What time is it?"
"It's early yet. 0617."
"Good." He couldn't resist. He had to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers again. He reached for her, running his hand down her arm, delighted at the slight shiver that rippled just beneath the surface of her skin.
She had to swallow before she could speak again. "Why?"
"Because it means we still have some time before we have to catch our flight."
Her eyes sparkled with mischief when she answered. "You're right. We could visit a museum, take a walk...Hey! I know! We can visit the Experience Music Project! I've heard it's pretty impressive."
"We could...but I have a better idea." He was not to be deterred. His hand skimmed across the smoothness of her stomach, and he smiled when he heard her soft intake of breath and saw her chest rise convulsively.
"You do?" Her voice was a mere whisper now as her hands began an expedition of their own.
"Yeah." He inhaled sharply as her clever fingers discovered a particularly sensitive part of his anatomy.
Her smile was smug, knowing. "Tell me."
"I'd rather show you."
She lay back on the pillows, stretched luxuriously, and smiled at him.
"So show me..."
They ended up nearly missing their flight again, but this time when they collapsed into their seats, they shared a smile full of warmth and humor.
Once they were airborne, Mac released her seatbelt and angled her body toward Harm's.
"You know, there's something we have to talk about."
"What's that?"
"Mattie? The Admiral? Our friends at JAG?"
"Oh."
"What do you want to do?"
He leered at her and she smacked his shoulder.
"You're insatiable, you know that?"
"Only with you, Mac."
She smiled and squeezed his hand, but she wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily.
"We need to figure this out, Harm."
"I'm not sure I want to tell people about us just yet."
"That could make it harder for us to spend time together."
"I can be incredibly creative when motivated."
"So I've seen." It was her turn to leer, and Harm had a hard time not kissing the look right off her face.
"We'll have to tell the admiral, though," he said, not looking forward to it.
"You're right. I wouldn't want to give Mercer grounds for an appeal."
His look was challenging.
"You seem pretty sure you'll get a conviction," he said.
"I am." Her smile was equally challenging.
"So what should we tell the admiral?"
"The truth, I guess."
"You want to tell the admiral we spent the last twelve hours making passionate love in a waterfront hotel?"
She smacked him on the shoulder again, but he just grinned unrepentantly.
"Of course not. I just think we should tell him we're..." She trailed off, unsure what label to put on their new relationship.
"Now there's a good point. What are we exactly?" he asked, raising a curious eyebrow.
"Dating?"
He mulled that over, nodded, and squeezed her hand.
"That'll do...for now."
"For now?"
"My plans are rather...longer range then dating might imply, but it'll work for the time being."
His eyes were serious as he twined his fingers with hers, but he didn't take the conversation any further. Instead he leaned his head back and closed his eyes, suddenly aware that he and Mac had done very little actual sleeping the night before. Within minutes, he was asleep.
1330 Zulu (0830 Local)
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
A.J. leaned back in his chair, observing the two attorneys who stood stiffly at attention before him, and wondering why they looked like a pair of nervous school children who'd been caught running with scissors. He decided to wait them out; see which one of them 'fessed up first.
The silence stretched. Apparently, neither of them wanted to be the bearer of bad news.
"Well?" he finally asked. "What is it? Is there a problem with the Mercer case?"
"No, Sir," said Harm.
"Yes, Sir," said Mac at the same time.
They exchanged guilty grins, and A.J. was immediately suspicious. It wasn't unusual for these two to disagree. It was unusual for them to smile about it. Usually when they disagreed, neither one of them was willing to give an inch to the other. Something was definitely up.
"Well? Which is it? Yes or no?" he barked, hoping to startle the truth out of them.
"Maybe, Sir?" It was Harm who finally decided to take the plunge.
"Maybe? What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"It means there's a potential problem, Sir."
"Well, don't keep me in suspense. What is it?"
Harm glanced at Mac again, but she merely shrugged helplessly. He rolled his eyes. It didn't look like she was going to be any help at all.
"Sir, while we were in Washington there were some...developments."
A.J.'s eyebrows flew up and he leaned forward.
"What kind of developments?"
"It's personal, Sir."
"If it's personal, what the hell's it got to do with the Mercer case?"
Mac stepped forward then, earning a grateful look from Harm.
"It affects the case because it's between us, Admiral."
A.J.'s chin jerked up then, dawning understanding clearing the puzzlement from his face. He stared at the two of them, focusing first on Harm, who stood straight and tall, evidently ready to take whatever punishment was about to land on his head, and then at Mac, who appeared just the tiniest bit nervous, but whose back was also ramrod straight, her chin high. Finally, he leaned back in his chair and laced his hands across his chest, fighting back a triumphant grin, determined to be properly military about it all. He couldn't resist one under the breath comment though, a comment that both officers had to strain to hear.
"Well, it's about damn time," he said. Then louder, "You're wondering if you should recuse yourselves from the case?"
"The thought did occur to us. Yes, Sir."
"Can you keep this thing out of the office?"
"Absolutely, Sir." Their voices, in chorus, had him fighting another grin.
"When's the trial?"
"It's scheduled to start on Thursday morning, Sir."
"And most of the ground work is already done?"
"Mine is, Sir," said Mac. "I just need to go over the forensic evidence."
"Same here, Sir. I'm only waiting on some discovery documents and then I should be good to go."
A.J. considered for a moment. These two were his best attorneys, and the trial, which didn't seem complicated, was just days away.
"You two are professionals. I'll trust you to keep your relationship from infringing on your duties, but if I hear so much as a hint of impropriety I'll have you both off the case and out of JAG faster then you can say surface warfare. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Good. Now get to work."
He turned back to the file that lay open on his desk.
"Sir?" Mac said, interrupting his train of thought.
He brought his head up, feigning irritation.
"Yes?"
"We're...not ready to publicize this yet. Would you mind terribly...?"
"Consider it done, Colonel. Nobody will hear about it from me."
Her sigh of relief almost made him smile again, and he ducked his head abruptly, waving them out of the room. Only after he heard the door close, the latch clicking softly into place, did he allow himself the freedom of a wide grin. He'd all but decided those two would never get their act together. Now that they had, he suspected that life at JAG was about to get very interesting indeed.
Mac followed Harm to his office.
"I need to make a trip in to D.C.," she said. "There's something I need to drop off with Agent Gibbs."
"New evidence?"
"Maybe. Something I found on that P-3 at Whidbey. I'll let you know if anything comes of it."
"I know you will. Dinner tonight?"
"Depends on what I hear from Gibbs."
"O.K., then. I'll see you when you get back."
"See you."
She sighed. Now that she'd become acquainted with the feel of his lips on hers, working with him had become a new kind of agony, one that she wouldn't trade for the world, but which nevertheless might just force her into a straightjacket before all was said and done.
He grinned, evidently very aware of her frustration.
"You ok?"
"I will be."
"I intend to make sure of that, Ninja Girl." The nickname, one she hadn't heard in years, combined with the suggestive way he used it, brought a flush to her cheeks, and she backed hastily out of his office, afraid that if she didn't escape - and quickly - they'd both end up facing conduct unbecoming charges. The warm sound of his laughter followed her all the way to her car and she was still smiling as she buckled her seatbelt and pulled down the sun visor.
It was ...snowing? Impossible, on a gorgeous spring day, but nonetheless, there it was. Tiny white flakes floated through the air, coming to rest in her lap, in her hair, and on the steering wheel and dashboard. When her initial surprise passed, the absurdity of her first assumption struck her, and she captured one of the tiny white slivers in her hand. It only took a second to recognize it as a discarded circle of paper from a hole punch. She shook her head like a dog coming out of water, and more of the little circles landed in her lap and on the floorboards of the car. Somebody had had some fun at her expense. She chuckled. First Harm and the elevator, then the little yellow ducks, and now this. She didn't know who had planned this particular stunt, but as she pulled out of her parking space and swung into traffic, she was already plotting her revenge.
A little while later, she pulled into the NCIS lot, checked herself over one final time, alert to the presence of any renegade "snowflakes," and stepped out of the car. Within minutes, she was escorted into the presence of Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. Mac didn't like Gibbs, hadn't liked him since he'd gone so single-mindedly after Harm when Singer was killed. She'd decided that he was the type of person who would do anything, step on anybody, in order to solve a case, so she didn't trust him and was wary of having any dealings with him that weren't absolutely necessary.
Gibbs was friendly enough when he greeted her, and Agent Dinozzo, her escort down to the forensics lab, positively oozed charm. She decided she didn't trust him, either.
Abby was a different story. She was quirky and funny and irreverent in a way Mac found amusing. She was also brilliant. When Mac pulled out the scrap of paper in its sealed plastic bag, the younger woman went straight to work, mumbling to herself about this test and that, fiber composition, dyes, and a host of other terms Mac didn't pretend to understand.
She looked over at Agent Dinozzo, and her puzzled expression made him laugh. "Don't mind her. I know she seems a little strange, but she's the best there is at what she does."
Abby looked up with a bright grin. "Why thank you, Tony. I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Then, "Colonel, it'll take me a few hours to analyze this. Should I have Agent Gibbs give you a call when I'm through?"
"If you would, yes. And the sooner the better. Opening arguments are scheduled for first thing Thursday morning."
"No problem. I'll get right on it."
"Thanks."
Mac turned back to Agent Dinozzo, who held the door for her to go out ahead of him. Together, they rode the elevator back up to the bullpen where Gibbs was ready with a packet of documents.
"Here's your forensic documentation. Let us know which items you need for court and we'll make sure you have them on Thursday."
"I'd rather have them today."
"We'll bring them on Thursday." He wouldn't be budged, and Mac decided not to push. After all, if he had the evidence, it'd be his fault if anything went wrong.
"Have your team there at 1230." She didn't bother explaining that the morning would be taken up with impaneling the members and opening remarks. Gibbs hadn't gotten to where he was today without knowing a thing or two about trials. "Is there someplace I can work for a few minutes? I'd like to go through this documentation before I drive all the way back to Falls Church."
"You can use Dinozzo's desk. Just shove the clutter aside."
Mac raised an eyebrow at Gibbs' high handed manner, but the younger agent had already sprung into action, clearing his desk and offering his chair with a flourish. She shrugged her shoulders and accepted the proffered seat, and minutes later she was checking the documents, oblivious to the controlled chaos around her. She quickly identified the search warrants, chemical analysis, and surveillance authorizations. She skimmed through the paperwork, noted that everything appeared to be in order, and slipped them back into their folder, then stood and pushed the chair in. Gibbs was nowhere in sight, but she wasn't particularly disappointed about that. Agent Dinozzo wasn't far off, though, and when he saw her stand he hurried over.
"Everything in order, Colonel?"
"It appears to be, Agent Dinozzo. Looks like your team did a good job."
"Thank you, Ma'am."
"I'll be expecting a call from Agent Gibbs this afternoon, but other then that, I think I've got everything."
"Give us a call if you need anything else."
"Will do."
She left him then, her mind already fitting the final pieces of her case into place. This afternoon and tomorrow she'd finish reviewing the forensic evidence. Then she'd have Wednesday to perfect her opening remarks. She'd be glad when this was over. She wasn't looking forward to facing Harm from opposite sides of the courtroom this time. Oh, she knew she could handle it. They were both professionals, after all. Still, it would be strange, and she'd be glad to put it behind her.
When she got back to her office, she had an email message waiting for her from Harm.
"Hey, Mac. If I'm going to be ready for trial Thursday morning, I'll need the rest of your discovery documents this afternoon. If that's going to be a problem, let me know, and I'll request a short continuance. Also, the girls and I are wondering if you would join us for dinner tonight. 1730? My place? ......Harm."
She smiled. Dinner with "the girls" wouldn't be her first choice of a way to spend an evening with Harm, but it was better then not seeing him at all. She decided to copy the documents now and deliver her acceptance personally. A few minutes later, she knocked on his doorjamb, unable to hold back a smile at the sight of his dark head bent over a file, hair slightly mussed from running his fingers through it. He did not appear to be having a good time. He raised his head distractedly at her knock, then leaned back and smiled when he saw who it was.
"Did you have a good trip?" he asked.
"A productive one anyway. Here are the rest of the discovery documents."
"Did you get my e-mail?" He looked hopeful, and she considered teasing him, but decided that would be cruel. It looked like he was already having a bad day.
"Yes. I'd be happy to join you for dinner tonight. What can I bring?"
"Just yourself."
"You sure?"
"Absolutely."
"O.K., I'll see you then." She turned to go, but he called her back, a puzzled tone to his voice that made her raise an eyebrow curiously.
"Mac?"
"What?"
"Come over here for a second."
That earned him a suspicious look.
"I promise," he was quick to reassure her. "I'll behave. It's just that you have something in your hair..."
He'd stood up and come over to her while he talked. Now, he plucked something from the back of her head and held it out to her.
"Have you been playing in the recycling bin again?" There was a twinkle in his eye, and although Mac was vaguely embarrassed at having traipsed all over NCIS with confetti in her hair, she couldn't manage to be angry.
"Somebody booby trapped my car."
"Oh?" That eyebrow again. He could say more with that little strip of dark hair than most people could with an encyclopedia.
"Yeah. I pulled down my sun visor and hundreds of those things dumped out all over me."
Harm laughed at the mental image, and Mac couldn't stop a grin of her own.
"Who did that?" he asked.
"Well, I was pretty sure you did, but your innocent act is either authentic or very well played, so now I'm not sure. You can bet I'll have my revenge, though."
"Oh, I'm sure you will, Mac."
She tossed him a look as she left that made him laugh outright, and though she was tempted to stay and soak up the sound, she knew she couldn't. There was work to be done, and she'd never finish it by camping out in Harm's office, pleasant though the prospect might be.
**** End Part 4 ****
AN: The Edgewater really does provide rubber ducks in their guest rooms. When Melissa and I found that out during our research for this story we knew that Harm and Mac couldn't possibly stay anyplace else. grin