1436 ZULU
JAG HQ
Falls Church, VA
So, she thinks I can't charm her, huh? We'll see. I could charm those marine greens right off of her. But, one thing at a time. Well, two, I suppose, really, considering I intend to charm her (thereby proving the point that I can…easily) into a date with me.
Hmm…must form a careful plan of attack, utilizing my considerable persuasive skills and my uncanny knack for subtlety. She won't realize what hit her until it's too late—and it's highly unlikely she'll say no then, anyway.
Although, she could. But—no, she won't. I think. And really, can one take much pleasure and pride in a date earned by subterfuge? Hmmm.
Anyway, back to the business at hand: Operation CharmMac. Operation Swoon. Operation…operation…
"Sir?"
"Huh?" I blink and find Tiner standing before me, a couple of folders clutched carefully in his hand.
"The admiral wanted me to give these to you. They're information from Agent Webb regarding the Sorenson trial."
"Oh, thank you, Tiner."
"Yes, sir." He takes his leave as I thumb through the folders. Great. Looks like our man Sorenson has quite a dirty trail behind him. The only problem is it forks so many times, it'll probably take Mac and I forever to determine the extent of his unlawfulness. She's not going to be thrilled to see this.
Hmm…on the other hand, it would give me a chance to charm her a little. Well, when opportunity knocks…
I waltz into her office without announcing myself—at this point in our professional acquaintance she should know who waltzes into her office all the time without announcing himself—and she does.
"Don't you knock?" She asks without looking up from her file.
"Nope," I reply. I take a seat in one of the chairs before her desk and admire the sight before me. An insistent lock of hair refuses to obey, as she keeps tucking and re-tucking it behind her ear. As soon as she moves, it falls forward against her face again. She scribbles a few notes on what looks to be a brief on a recent DDO case she won—against Sturgis—one of the few where we haven't been partnered together. Given our rank and experience, the fact that we have been as much as late has been sort of a pleasant surprise—it's allowed us to reestablish and strengthen old connections…and build new ones, which reminds me why I'm here (well, one of the reasons why).
Mac also reminds me of the other reason when she asks, "Was there something you need, Harm?"
A hundred different responses play on my lips as I try to determine which one to use.
"As a matter of fact…" I drawl. She looks up and I smile (charmingly, I don't have to add). I wink at her. I know it flusters her.
Her brow slowly sinks into the corner of her eye, before arching in a perfect crescent moon.
"Yes..." she draws out, still trying to figure out where I'm going with this. I'm not really sure where I'm going with it either, but I'm good at thinking on my feet.
"There is something I need."
She makes a gesture with her head indicating I should get to it. Soon.
I raise an eyebrow suggestively, but say nothing further. Her cheeks flush once she realizes my implication.
"Er, eh, hmm, is there something you need in regards to a case, commander?" she amends.
"Oh, well, yes. Tiner just brought these files by from Webb. It doesn't look promising."
She scans through the documents quickly and emits a muttered, "Dammit."
"As you can see, we've got our work cut out for us."
"You have a gift for the understatement, Harm. We'll be lucky to find even half of the infractions he's committed. I really want to nail his ass to the wall."
"You and me both. However, I'm beginning to think it may take a miracle to accomplish that."
She puts down the file, and stares at me.
"What?"
"Do I hear uncertainty? Misgivings? Little confidence in the legal abilities of the Great Harmon Rabb, Jr. U.S. Navy attorney?" Oh, brother. Here we go. "Not to mention the obvious insult to my considerable legal prowess." I roll my eyes.
"You insult me, commander. And I have to say I'm disappointed in you."
"What?" She's got to be kidding me. Insult? Disappointed? I'm just trying to be realistic. And she should know—
"Mac, you know I think you're a great attorney," I state adamantly.
"Actually, I suppose that's true. I did know that. But I've never heard you really say it." Beat. "Until now." She grins devilishly. "Anything else you care get to off your chest that I may already know…or at least suspect?"
This chair is uncomfortable. This conversation is uncomfortable. Mac's x-ray vision stare is damn uncomfortable.
"Uh, er, um, no, not at the moment." I hedge. It hits me a moment too late that those words all almost identical to the ones I said on that damned ferry ride in Sydney Harbor. Oh for christ's sake, Rabb—please, let's not do that again.
"Okay. If you're sure. But if and when you're ready…" she drawls coyly, but I can see her expression isn't so lighthearted.
"You'll be the first to know," I reply softly.
She nods imperceptibly, and picks up the file again. She stares at it for a moment.
"Shit."
My thoughts exactly. I come in here, intending to take the opportunity to flaunt my irresistibility, and I damn near step in one of those relationship landmines that dog every step of our relationship. 'Good at thinking on my feet'?! If words are bullets, I think I may have shot my foot off.
If I expect anything to come of this new turn in our relationship I'm going to have to try twisting my lips around those three little words. Or at least come up with a way to convey that emotion that leaves no doubt as to my feelings towards her.
Shit, indeed.