Alrighty. I am hoping to have 1 other part posted tomorrow night and then nothing until anytime between Sunday-Tuesday. Boss is away so that leaves me to deal with 12 hrs of work and all of that jazz. I tend to sneak in some paragraphs if the days are slow, but they haven't been slow so. . . gotta deal. Roughly, I believe the story will have 5 more parts, if I can find a way to extended it I will. Thus far 14 parts have been written.
I've been writing another one. While I was sick the last couple of weeks I didn't go out at all, I barely slept cos I was too stuffed up to breathe, so I was up at 4am writing. Fun, huh? Anyway, the next story will be called "Getting Away With Murder." (Yep, stole the title from the Papa Roach song of the same name Hehehe! The new CD rocks!) and It'll be different. Mac's an NCIS agent, Harm is. . . well, Harm. ;) I don't watch NCIS at all, so, we'll see how it goes. It is a shipper story, but due to the animosity between Harm and NCIS the first few chapters, the Harm and Mac interaction is amusing. I caught myself laughing a few times at the partner I invented for Mac. Harm and Mac will be working together, though, joint NCIS/JAG murder investigation, a serial killer. Enough about that.. . . on ward with this nutty story. Yes, I am out of my mind, but that is only cos it's dark and scary in there. :)
Enjoy!
Jackie
PS: Sorry for sucha short chappie! Sometimes it happens. :P
PART 11 - Episode 3: The Day She Left To Fly
The sign on the TV had signified that a year had passed by since the second episode. Most of the episode, as it had been done in the other two, showed a jumble of scenes of things that had happened during that past year. It was something that was upsetting viewers and critics, but, never-the-less, people tuned in to watch. According to information on the show, it wasn't meant to go on for more than a handful of episodes, something of an extended mini-series.
This week recapped what occurred when Hawk and Sam had headed to Siberia, risking life and limb in order to find out the truth of Sam's father. He had died there, killed by an assassin's bullet as he tried to rescue a woman he was in love with. Her father's grave was never found and though she received some closure, she was still left with no place to grieve at.
Hawk had faced some of his own demons, his father was dying. In one last attempt to connect father and son, he was summoned to his father's death bed. Angry at his father, he nearly let rage consume him for his lost childhood and the wild life that nearly took his life. He had also dealt with the return of a wife, the woman he'd forgotten to divorce and ended up shooting by mistake. Sam had defended him and won, still, he was being punished for his actions.
There were scenes of a case and Hawk frowning as Sam's eyes grew wide with happiness over the sight of F-14s. He didn't want her to return to flying, but there was nothing he could do. A good friend would be happy for her so he had to try and swallow his hurt feelings and let her go. . .
Hawk was seated in her chair, arms across his chest, waiting. He needed to be the last person to say goodbye, hoping that maybe something he would say could stop Sam from leaving. His eyes lifted up as she headed into her office for what would most likely be the last time. And he knew, the moment her eyes met his that she had made up her mind. "You can't leave without saying goodbye."
Sam smiled at him, tugging him out of her chair and onto his feet. "You are the one that ran in here. . hiding from me, Major?"
The smiled at each other, but the mood quickly grew somber. She was leaving JAG, leaving him. . .how was he to go on without her? "Want me to water your plants?"
"I don't have any." Sam placed a hand on his forearm and frowned. "You don't have to be so sad. . ."
Moving slowly, he came to a stop just in front of her. "Damnit, I have so much to tell you, Sam. . . I just. . .just can't find the words."
"I know." Sighing, she brought her arms around him, bringing him close for a fierce hug that was more intimate than it was friendly. Parting, they stared at each other again, both wavering slightly, fighting a kiss that they longed to share. Instead, Hawk stepped backward and saluted his colleague, wishing only the best for her.
Sam took the box on her desk and walked off, almost in slow motion as she meandered through the bullpen towards the elevator. Stepping in, she turned, glancing out one last time at everyone who had made her life so much better. Her eyes settled on Hawk one last time. The look in his eyes one of secret love and respect, something that her own look shone.
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0159 Zulu
AJ Chegwidden's House
McLean, Virginia
AJ cringed as his girlfriend, Professor Meredith Cavanaugh, a lovely woman Mac had, somehow managed to set him up with, cried at the scene on the TV. They had been together a little over a month and a half now and things were going very well for the new couple. "AJ, that is just heartbreaking. . . you can tell they love each other."
It had been the first time he'd managed to catch 'ZULU' on the air, and if this was all it was promising, it would be the last. "I thought there would be some cases?"
Meredith took a Kleenex, blowing hard before looking up at AJ with tearstained eyes. "There are some, but it's basically about Hawk and Sam. . . oh, AJ, my heart goes out to them."
Shaking his head, AJ flipped off the TV and wrapped his arms tightly around Meredith, soothing his hands up and down her back. If there was one thing he found very amusing about 'ZULU' was how it remind him about Harm and Mac. Didn't something like that happen years ago when Rabb was returning to a squadron? For all of his intelligence, AJ just shrugged it off, Rabb and MacKenzie weren't the only officers who probably shared some odd relationship. It was all a moot point.
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0200 Zulu
Harm's Apartment
North Of Union Station
The night wound up being quite the cold one, both emotionally and physically. He hadn't spoken with Mac in nearly one week since that spat in her office. Now, she was somewhere out on the Seahawk with Sturgis and Harm was miserable. The days without her were boring, meaningless. He hated himself at the moment, hated that he had to do the typical pig headed male thing and get jealous at a man she swore she had nothing with rather than trust she was telling him the truth. Grabbing the phone, he decided to give into his longing and swallow his pride. Dialing her number, he waited patiently for the machine to pick up, she would be home sometime that night or in the early morning. "Mac. . . it's me. . .uh, Harm. . . I. . ." Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and swallowed a few times. "I am sorry for arguing with you, for being. . . for not trusting you. . .come home, to me. . . please, forgive me. . . I love you."
In her side of town Mac sat in her sofa curled up with her afghan, a book and a cup of herbal tea. She had Sturgis had arrived from the investigation just a few short hours ago. Though she was exhausted, she was too tired to sleep. She was lucky to have Sturgis in their lives. He was a good man, caring and wanting nothing but the best for his friends. It was him that suggested she let Harm stew for a while. Stubborn people like Harm only seemed to learn when forced to deal directly with something. She heard his message and was tempted to pick up the phone, but she was just too tired to speak to him. Instead, she went back to reading. Eventually, they would work it out, they always did. "I love you too."
One Week Later
1902 Zulu
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, Virginia
Mac couldn't help but chuckle when another courier walked into her office with yet another vase full of roses. For the past week, she had been receiving gifts from Harm, all with the words "I'm sorry & I love you." Monday it had been chocolates, Tuesday it was stuffed animals, Wednesday it was a Mariachi band singing Chicago's "Hard To Say I'm Sorry." (Even the Admiral was amused with that one.) Thursday, it was wild flowers and today, Friday, it was roses, lots of roses. In fact, her office looked more like a flower shop. She had forgiven him a week ago, but there was something about the whole 'letting him stew' that she decided to draw out. At least until Saturday night, as Mac was planning on having a rather nice romantic 'make up' dinner with Harm. She'd even bought a dress, a black, sexy number that hugged her curves like a second skin and left little to the imagination.
Mac's plan was to leave a note on his desk for him to go over to her place tomorrow. They would talk first, explore the ramifications of trusting and not trusting. After that, a little seduction was in order. Not that she needed to seduce Harm, but having him squirm was going to be fun.
"Ahem, uh. . Ma. . . Colonel?" Harm shyly appeared at his door holding files for the case that they were working on together. The Admiral had sensed some strain between the two, but, at least, they were keeping the arguments out of the office, so he took a chance and stuck them to work on same case, on the same side. "Prosecution added to their list of witnesses."
Mac waved him in and took the file, glancing through the list of names. "Is Singer INSANE?" The list had at least thirty names, apparently the Lieutenant was playing the petty game of trying to bury important witnesses somewhere among the massive list of names. "I say we start first thing Monday. . ."
Harm nodded. "I agree, I put Harriet on the case to help us weed through some of them."
"Bud is on the prosecution, you sure that is a bright idea?"
Sheepishly he shrugged. "We have a job to do here, it's nothing personal." Taking a breath, he watched Mac for a moment not really able to figure her out. If she was angry with him, she sure wasn't showing it. Maybe she was doing that whole, keeping personal life out of the office. Whatever it was, Harm was going crazy. "Sooo."
Turning back to him, Mac raised her eyebrow. "Soooo?" She almost laughed at how cute he looked, standing there utterly confused among the roses. His eyes washing over the whole room.
"Ummm. . . did you like the umm . . roses?" He was chewing on his inner cheek, hoping she wouldn't freak out on him. The roses had been coming steadily hour upon hour since they both arrived. Fights were going to be the death of him and his bank account.
Mac smiled up at him and sniffed at the vase of roses closest to her. "They are lovely."
Harm couldn't help but smile, "I just. . . uh wanted to say. . ."
"I'm sorry, and I love you?" She smirked as he nodded shyly and Mac could no longer contain her amusement. Chuckling, she stood, went around her desk and kissed Harm on the cheek. "My place, tomorrow night?" Harm stared at Mac in disbelief. His mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to formulate some sort of words, but noting came. Mac brought her fingers to his chin, helping him close his mouth shut. "You'll catch flies."