Title: Declaration

Chapter 6

*****

"Okay, do you have the phone records for November 7th?"  I ask.

Harm stretches across the floor and yanks a piece of paper out from under our empty pizza box.  "Here," he says.  Leaning back on the balls of his hands, he grins.  "It's been a while since we worked a case together."

"Well," I say.  "I think the Admiral may have gotten the impression we don't work well together."

"Come on, Mac," he grimaces.

Harm and I got stuck working a high-profile murder case together.  I wanted it.  He wanted it.  Finally, the Admiral got tired of listening to us fight, and gave it to both of us.  Maybe he's secretly hoping we'll kill each other.

"So," Harm says, stretching out until he's laying flat on the floor.  "How's your other half?"

I let out a breath.  "Harm, get over it."

Harm acts like a jealous boyfriend when it comes to Clay and me.  Truthfully, Harm and I were never really together.  There was a time when I wanted that.  In fact, I wanted that earlier this year.  Even when Clay and I first got together, part of me still wanted Harm.

Then I fell in love with Clay.  Completely.  Totally.  Irrevocably.

The funny part of it is—I didn't see it coming.  I don't think Clay did either.  Mostly, I think we were just seeking solace in each other after Paraguay.  I think we needed to share each other's strength, to take comfort in the fact that we both went through what we did and came out alive. But as we got to know each other, our friendship turned to close friendship, and that turned to love.  And now it's like breathing . . . I need him. 

"Mac?"

"Mmm?"

"What?  Are you daydreaming about him now?"

"Harm, come on," I say.  "You and Clay used to be friends.  What happened?"

He stares at me for a few moments.  Then he sputters something that almost sounds like a laugh.  "Is that what we are?  We're friends?"

"Yeah, you used to be.  Come on, you stood in the Admiral's office and defended his integrity.  You went after him that time he faked his death."

Harm sits up and wraps his arms around his knees.  "How long has he been carrying a torch for you?"

"What?" I ask.

"This thing you two have.  I remember he had your dress size that time we went into the embassy."

I sigh.  "Harm, Clay and I found each other."  I scoot closer to him.  "When we came back from Paraguay, we were both a mess."  And we still are, but I'm not telling Harm that.  "We needed each other.  I don't think either of us meant to fall in love.  It happened a little at a time."

He stares.

"What?" I say.

"You're in love with him?"

I lick my lips.  How could I be so stupid?  Clay and I have told each other how we feel, but we've pretty much kept to ourselves since we started dating.   I mean, people know we're dating, but I haven't really discussed my feelings for Clay with anyone.   

 "Yeah," I say. "I'm love with him."

Harm stares out the window the evening sky.  He doesn't say anything for a long time.  Finally, he clears his throat and says, "So, uh . . . this isn't another Mic Brumby."

"No."

"Oh."

"Harm," I say.  "I'm sorry."

"For what?  For falling in love?" He picks up a piece of paper. "You're doing the phone records for the 7th.  I got the 6th.  You up for burning the midnight oil?"

"Harm, come on."  I cover his hand with mine.

"What?"

"Let's sort this out."

He pries his hand away. "Sort what out?"

"Have you even talked to Clay since he was released from the hospital?"

"Nope."

"Maybe you should call him."

He stands up and walks into the kitchen.  "Why?  So we can have a beer and discuss women?"

"All right," I say curtly.  "Let's get to work then."

"Does he know you're here?"  Harm asks accusingly.

"No," I say.  "He wouldn't mind." 

Actually, I have no idea how he would feel.  Harm is something of a gray area for us right now.  Clay is different from Mic in a lot of ways, but the biggest difference is that Clay and Harm were already friends when Clay and I started dating.  To be with me, Clay risks losing one of the few friends he has.

"So, where is he?" Harm asks.

"New Mexico—at Gunny's sister's house.  He's coming back tomorrow."

Harm narrows his eyes.  "Hanging around with Gunny at lot, isn't he?"

I nod.  "They're partners, I guess."

"Hmm."

"What?"

He sits back down on the floor.  "Webb's forging a lot of new relationships.  You.  Gunny."

"Wait a minute," I laugh.  "Are you upset that Clay is getting close to someone other than you?"

"We were never close."

Harm starts digging through the papers we have strewn across the floor, but I don't think he's really looking for anything.  It never occurred to me before, but Harm probably feels like he's losing Clay just as much as me.  Clay always went to Harm when he needed something, and Harm reciprocated whenever he needed some Agency help on a case.  Maybe it's not just junior high school jealously he feels.  Maybe he feels like he's being ushered out of my life, and Clay's. 

"Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"Call him."

He rolls his eyes.  "Why?"

I let out a breath.  "Because he needs you."