A/N: Thanks to: Chris, for beta-reading this today (twice!); Elizabeth,
for helping keep me sane over lunch; and Janet, who suggested a scenario
involving Harm, Mac, a banana peel and a mattress.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Friday; 2144 Zulu; JAG Headquarters; Falls Church, Virginia
Throughout the course of the week, Harm and Mac hadn't talked about much aside from their case. Despite the preparation they had done, their strategy had been blown out of the water within twenty minutes of the defendant's taking the witness stand: Lieutenant Commander Miller had cracked under Commander Sturgis Turner's cross-examination and subsequently all but admitted his guilt to the judge and members. Scrambling to salvage what they could, Harm and Mac had worked overtime to minimize the damage from Miller's self-incriminating testimony. They successfully negotiated a plea bargain with Sturgis and Bud, and although the sentence imposed was severe it was still less than the maximum their client had faced.
The office had grown quiet by late afternoon, many people having left early to take advantage of the fine weather that had continued to bless the Washington area. It had been a long five days, but the weekend had finally arrived. Harm's feet were propped casually in front of him as he talked with Mattie over the phone.
"We'll probably be taking off in a few minutes," he said. "Is there anything you want me to pick up for you while we're out at the house?"
"I don't think so. Just make sure to give me a call when you get there, okay?"
"Will do. I'll see you Sunday, kiddo."
"Drive safely, Harm."
Dropping the receiver back in the cradle, he stood and straightened some of the paperwork on his desk before sauntering over towards Mac's office. It was empty, and Mac was nowhere to be seen around the bullpen. He turned and headed towards Admiral Chegwidden's anteroom, where Petty Officer Jennifer Coates sat deeply engrossed in something on her computer screen. At his knock, she glanced up and greeted him cheerfully.
"Can I do something for you, sir?"
"Have you seen Colonel MacKenzie?"
"She's in with the Admiral, sir."
"Oh," Harm frowned. Jennifer looked at him knowingly.
"He called her in about ten minutes ago. I don't know how long they'll be."
"Thanks, Petty Officer."
"No problem, sir. You must be anxious to get on the road; it's a long drive out to Blacksburg."
Harm chuckled, and leaned against the doorframe. "Good guess. I hear Harriet talked you and Mattie into baby-sitting for AJ and Jimmy tonight."
"Yes, sir. She and Lieutenant Roberts are going out for dinner and to the theater."
At that moment, the door to the Admiral's office opened and Mac stepped out. She spotted Harm immediately and flashed him a tired smile.
"Ready to go, squid?" she asked as she shut the door quietly behind her.
"Whenever you are." Nodding to Jennifer, he followed silently after Mac as she walked back to her office. "What did the Admiral want?" Mac sat down behind her desk and began to power down her computer.
"Webb has asked for me to help out the CIA on another assignment," she said shortly. Harm's eyebrow shot up.
"What did you say?"
"I told him I'd think about it."
Floored, Harm gaped at her. "What do you mean, you'd 'think about it'? Mac, you can't possibly be considering going on another undercover operation with the guy -- he nearly got you killed last time."
"True, but I knew the risks going down to Paraguay, and I certainly know them now." She turned to him, her gaze softening. "I haven't said 'yes' yet, Harm."
"That's a relief," he muttered, watching her as she tidied up a bit before flipping the switch to her desk lamp. Turning off the monitor, she slid some documents into her briefcase and stood.
"Anyway, Clay doesn't need a definite answer until Monday, so we're still on to go flying this weekend. That is," she added, "assuming you're up to it." A small twinkle lit her eyes.
"Do you even have to ask?" The feeling of dread that had settled in his chest lessened, but he wasn't entirely reassured. There was no way she would be going on another mission with Webb, if he had anything to say about it.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was well after 2300 when they pulled into the drive leading up to the house Mattie had inherited from her mother. After dropping her Corvette off at her apartment in Georgetown, Mac and Harm had stopped for a quick dinner before getting on the expressway. In spite of Mac's placating words, the fact that she hadn't actually turned the CIA's offer down had Harm stewing all the way across the state. He made a valiant effort to keep his opinions to himself, as both he and Mac were already on edge. Other than an occasional disagreement over the radio, the ride was uneventful until it started to rain, just northeast of Roanoke. What began as a light drizzle had turned into a downpour by the time they'd reached Blacksburg. Lightning ripped across the sky, and even with the Lexus' traction control Harm had found himself fighting heavy winds to keep the SUV on the road. Gravel crunched loudly under the tires as the wraparound porch came into view, but the heavy rainfall and pumping windshield wipers drowned out the sound. Shifting the transmission to 'Park', Harm killed the ignition.
"Why don't you make a run for it? I can grab our bags." Mac nodded mutely. A moment later she was dashing out of the car towards the house, bounding up the front steps to the safety of the porch. She watched as Harm's darkened figure hoisted their belongings from the rear of the vehicle and carried them up to the front door.
"I hope this lets up before tomorrow," he said ruefully, unlocking the door and pushing it inward. When he flipped the light switch, nothing happened. "The storm must have knocked the power out. Wait here, I'll go see if I can find a flashlight." He disappeared down the hallway.
A burst of lightning lit up the foyer and adjoining living room. Closing the door behind her, Mac slipped off her wet cover. She shook her hair, which was soaked despite having only been exposed to the rain for a few moments. Four minutes and forty-three seconds passed before she heard Harm's muffled cry of triumph, followed by a grunt and loud crash.
"Everything okay?" she called into the darkness.
"I found a flashlight, but the batteries are dead." Harm emerged from the shadows at the end of the hall carrying a large utility lantern. He was limping slightly.
"Handy."
Glancing over at Mac, Harm set the flashlight down. "C'mon, why don't we go get out of these wet uniforms."
"Gee, sailor, you really know how to proposition a girl," she teased as she followed him up the stairs.
* * * * * * * * * *
The temperature outside had plummeted with the storm's arrival, so at Harm's insistence Mac had taken a quick shower to warm herself before changing into dry clothes. The electricity was still out when she emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later running a towel through her hair. Following the sound of Harm's voice down to the pitch-black living room, she found that he had changed clothes as well.
"Her answer is *no*," he was saying into the cell phone. "Look, I'll have her call you." He listened for another moment before ending the call.
"Anyone I know?" Mac asked. Harm didn't answer, instead handing her the phone. He instinctively took a step backwards as she read the familiar number displayed on the caller ID. It took her a minute to realize he had been talking on *her* phone -- and the caller had been Clayton Webb.
"You were in the shower--" Harm began to explain, but Mac cut him off.
"And you took it upon yourself to answer, instead of letting it go to voicemail."
"Well, I didn't know how long you were going to be and figured it was probably important."
She snorted in disbelief. "Right. Do I need to remind you, yet again, which one of us showers faster? And in a thunderstorm, no less." As if to illustrate her point, the room was momentarily lit by a flicker of lightning. Harm's expression appeared to be that of studied indifference. "What did Clay want?" Mac prompted.
"He wanted to see if you'd made a decision yet," Harm answered. Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, his emotions were tumbling fiercely. When Webb's number had appeared on the phone's display, Harm had correctly assumed that the CIA operative was calling to talk Mac into joining him on the mission. Harm had answered, because he knew that Webb's missions, no matter how carefully planned, were usually near-fatal disasters.
"And you told him my answer was *no*?" Her voice was cool and controlled, belying the sudden flood of anger. She stepped towards him in the darkness, but Harm held his ground.
"Yes, I did."
"How dare you," she accused furiously. "How dare you stick your nose into MY business? You had absolutely no right--"
"No right? No right to what?" Harm's control snapped. "No right to tell him that the mother of my future children won't be signing up for his latest escapade? No way, Mac. I will NOT let you walk out on me. I CANNOT let you walk out on me AGAIN." His voice hitched as the words rushed out.
The torment in his voice penetrated the haze of Mac's fury, and when a flash of lightning illuminated the room an instant later, the sight of his face took her breath away. Eyes shining brightly, his expression was one of misery and anguish, and love. The last time he had looked at her that way had been, she remembered, on the Admiral's porch during her engagement party. Right after they'd kissed. . .
Plunged once again into darkness, Mac reached up to cup Harm's cheek. She held her hand there as they stood facing one another, the silence broken only by the sounds of the storm outside. Then, suddenly, his arms pulling her near, their lips met gently as each fell into the warmth of the other's embrace.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
To be continued. . .
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Friday; 2144 Zulu; JAG Headquarters; Falls Church, Virginia
Throughout the course of the week, Harm and Mac hadn't talked about much aside from their case. Despite the preparation they had done, their strategy had been blown out of the water within twenty minutes of the defendant's taking the witness stand: Lieutenant Commander Miller had cracked under Commander Sturgis Turner's cross-examination and subsequently all but admitted his guilt to the judge and members. Scrambling to salvage what they could, Harm and Mac had worked overtime to minimize the damage from Miller's self-incriminating testimony. They successfully negotiated a plea bargain with Sturgis and Bud, and although the sentence imposed was severe it was still less than the maximum their client had faced.
The office had grown quiet by late afternoon, many people having left early to take advantage of the fine weather that had continued to bless the Washington area. It had been a long five days, but the weekend had finally arrived. Harm's feet were propped casually in front of him as he talked with Mattie over the phone.
"We'll probably be taking off in a few minutes," he said. "Is there anything you want me to pick up for you while we're out at the house?"
"I don't think so. Just make sure to give me a call when you get there, okay?"
"Will do. I'll see you Sunday, kiddo."
"Drive safely, Harm."
Dropping the receiver back in the cradle, he stood and straightened some of the paperwork on his desk before sauntering over towards Mac's office. It was empty, and Mac was nowhere to be seen around the bullpen. He turned and headed towards Admiral Chegwidden's anteroom, where Petty Officer Jennifer Coates sat deeply engrossed in something on her computer screen. At his knock, she glanced up and greeted him cheerfully.
"Can I do something for you, sir?"
"Have you seen Colonel MacKenzie?"
"She's in with the Admiral, sir."
"Oh," Harm frowned. Jennifer looked at him knowingly.
"He called her in about ten minutes ago. I don't know how long they'll be."
"Thanks, Petty Officer."
"No problem, sir. You must be anxious to get on the road; it's a long drive out to Blacksburg."
Harm chuckled, and leaned against the doorframe. "Good guess. I hear Harriet talked you and Mattie into baby-sitting for AJ and Jimmy tonight."
"Yes, sir. She and Lieutenant Roberts are going out for dinner and to the theater."
At that moment, the door to the Admiral's office opened and Mac stepped out. She spotted Harm immediately and flashed him a tired smile.
"Ready to go, squid?" she asked as she shut the door quietly behind her.
"Whenever you are." Nodding to Jennifer, he followed silently after Mac as she walked back to her office. "What did the Admiral want?" Mac sat down behind her desk and began to power down her computer.
"Webb has asked for me to help out the CIA on another assignment," she said shortly. Harm's eyebrow shot up.
"What did you say?"
"I told him I'd think about it."
Floored, Harm gaped at her. "What do you mean, you'd 'think about it'? Mac, you can't possibly be considering going on another undercover operation with the guy -- he nearly got you killed last time."
"True, but I knew the risks going down to Paraguay, and I certainly know them now." She turned to him, her gaze softening. "I haven't said 'yes' yet, Harm."
"That's a relief," he muttered, watching her as she tidied up a bit before flipping the switch to her desk lamp. Turning off the monitor, she slid some documents into her briefcase and stood.
"Anyway, Clay doesn't need a definite answer until Monday, so we're still on to go flying this weekend. That is," she added, "assuming you're up to it." A small twinkle lit her eyes.
"Do you even have to ask?" The feeling of dread that had settled in his chest lessened, but he wasn't entirely reassured. There was no way she would be going on another mission with Webb, if he had anything to say about it.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was well after 2300 when they pulled into the drive leading up to the house Mattie had inherited from her mother. After dropping her Corvette off at her apartment in Georgetown, Mac and Harm had stopped for a quick dinner before getting on the expressway. In spite of Mac's placating words, the fact that she hadn't actually turned the CIA's offer down had Harm stewing all the way across the state. He made a valiant effort to keep his opinions to himself, as both he and Mac were already on edge. Other than an occasional disagreement over the radio, the ride was uneventful until it started to rain, just northeast of Roanoke. What began as a light drizzle had turned into a downpour by the time they'd reached Blacksburg. Lightning ripped across the sky, and even with the Lexus' traction control Harm had found himself fighting heavy winds to keep the SUV on the road. Gravel crunched loudly under the tires as the wraparound porch came into view, but the heavy rainfall and pumping windshield wipers drowned out the sound. Shifting the transmission to 'Park', Harm killed the ignition.
"Why don't you make a run for it? I can grab our bags." Mac nodded mutely. A moment later she was dashing out of the car towards the house, bounding up the front steps to the safety of the porch. She watched as Harm's darkened figure hoisted their belongings from the rear of the vehicle and carried them up to the front door.
"I hope this lets up before tomorrow," he said ruefully, unlocking the door and pushing it inward. When he flipped the light switch, nothing happened. "The storm must have knocked the power out. Wait here, I'll go see if I can find a flashlight." He disappeared down the hallway.
A burst of lightning lit up the foyer and adjoining living room. Closing the door behind her, Mac slipped off her wet cover. She shook her hair, which was soaked despite having only been exposed to the rain for a few moments. Four minutes and forty-three seconds passed before she heard Harm's muffled cry of triumph, followed by a grunt and loud crash.
"Everything okay?" she called into the darkness.
"I found a flashlight, but the batteries are dead." Harm emerged from the shadows at the end of the hall carrying a large utility lantern. He was limping slightly.
"Handy."
Glancing over at Mac, Harm set the flashlight down. "C'mon, why don't we go get out of these wet uniforms."
"Gee, sailor, you really know how to proposition a girl," she teased as she followed him up the stairs.
* * * * * * * * * *
The temperature outside had plummeted with the storm's arrival, so at Harm's insistence Mac had taken a quick shower to warm herself before changing into dry clothes. The electricity was still out when she emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later running a towel through her hair. Following the sound of Harm's voice down to the pitch-black living room, she found that he had changed clothes as well.
"Her answer is *no*," he was saying into the cell phone. "Look, I'll have her call you." He listened for another moment before ending the call.
"Anyone I know?" Mac asked. Harm didn't answer, instead handing her the phone. He instinctively took a step backwards as she read the familiar number displayed on the caller ID. It took her a minute to realize he had been talking on *her* phone -- and the caller had been Clayton Webb.
"You were in the shower--" Harm began to explain, but Mac cut him off.
"And you took it upon yourself to answer, instead of letting it go to voicemail."
"Well, I didn't know how long you were going to be and figured it was probably important."
She snorted in disbelief. "Right. Do I need to remind you, yet again, which one of us showers faster? And in a thunderstorm, no less." As if to illustrate her point, the room was momentarily lit by a flicker of lightning. Harm's expression appeared to be that of studied indifference. "What did Clay want?" Mac prompted.
"He wanted to see if you'd made a decision yet," Harm answered. Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, his emotions were tumbling fiercely. When Webb's number had appeared on the phone's display, Harm had correctly assumed that the CIA operative was calling to talk Mac into joining him on the mission. Harm had answered, because he knew that Webb's missions, no matter how carefully planned, were usually near-fatal disasters.
"And you told him my answer was *no*?" Her voice was cool and controlled, belying the sudden flood of anger. She stepped towards him in the darkness, but Harm held his ground.
"Yes, I did."
"How dare you," she accused furiously. "How dare you stick your nose into MY business? You had absolutely no right--"
"No right? No right to what?" Harm's control snapped. "No right to tell him that the mother of my future children won't be signing up for his latest escapade? No way, Mac. I will NOT let you walk out on me. I CANNOT let you walk out on me AGAIN." His voice hitched as the words rushed out.
The torment in his voice penetrated the haze of Mac's fury, and when a flash of lightning illuminated the room an instant later, the sight of his face took her breath away. Eyes shining brightly, his expression was one of misery and anguish, and love. The last time he had looked at her that way had been, she remembered, on the Admiral's porch during her engagement party. Right after they'd kissed. . .
Plunged once again into darkness, Mac reached up to cup Harm's cheek. She held her hand there as they stood facing one another, the silence broken only by the sounds of the storm outside. Then, suddenly, his arms pulling her near, their lips met gently as each fell into the warmth of the other's embrace.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
To be continued. . .
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---