I just finish my scathing email to Mac, promising much retribution for this…this…swell idea of hers to send me flowers, when there's a quick knock at my door and Sturgis pokes his head in.
"Got a minute, Harm?" I nod yes as I click send. I'll get you my little marine. And to think I had a nice evening planned for the two of us. That, of course, is shot to hell—I can't let an opportunity to show my fun-loving, scheming marine who exactly she's dealing with go by.
And maybe, in the process, we can start the application procedure for the 'Mile High and Mach 2 Club'. No reason why our Valentine's Day has to be a total waste.
"Harm!"
"Huh? Oh, sorry, Sturgis. You were saying?"
He gestures to my bouquet of roses, sitting on the edge of my desk. "Do you really have no idea who sent those?"
Honestly? I know exactly who sent those. She's no doubt basking in her glory in her office. I swear if you just cock an ear, you can hear the faintest whisper of "Semper Fi!" pass through the walls.
Instead, I reply, "No, I haven't the faintest, Sturgis."
"You know…" he begins, and takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk.
"Yes…?" I have a feeling I don't want to hear whatever it is he's trying to figure out how to say.
"Do you ever think—" he begins again, and abruptly changes gears. "Look—I know this is really not any of my business, but…" he seems to lose his confidence again.
I'm losing my patience, as well. "What is it you're trying to get at? Just say it, Sturgis."
"You and Mac," he blurts. Dammit, why did I encourage him? "You say there's nothing going on between you, and yet…"
"And yet?" I prompt impatiently, furiously trying to think of a way out of this conversation without having to resort to outright lying.
"And yet, I always sense something…some undercurrent."
"Tension," I reply automatically.
"There's more to it than that."
"What does this have to do with the flowers?" I ask.
"I just…maybe, maybe you don't think of your relationship with Mac as anything that can go beyond friendship, but…I wonder…I mean…are you sure that Mac feels the same way?"
"Why, did she say something?"
"No, no," he answers a little too quickly, springing my cross-examination skills to life. "Anyway," he continues on just as hastily, "did you ever think of how those flowers might be perceived by Mac?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean…it's obvious…that Mac cares for you…very much…and…"
And suddenly I get the eerie sensation that Sturgis knows something I don't in regards to the convoluted mess that is Mac's and my relationship. Something big.
"Did she say something?" I ask again. I suppose this is really all moot. Mac and are, well, dating, so obviously there is more than just friendship there—so if what Sturgis is trying so desperately to tell me (and not to tell me) is that Mac has romantic feelings for me, I don't suppose I should really be all that surprised.
"No, no." This is said in the same tone and haste as he previous denial. "I just—look, it's Valentine's Day. And Mac is, well, single, and just watching the two of you, maybe she's feeling a little jealous. She looked kind of upset when you mentioned that girl from Vermont."
"When you mentioned that girl from Vermont. She was the furthest thing from my mind." Thank you, also, Sturgis, for reminding me to kill you in our next game of basketball.
"Anyway, my point is there's no need to rub it in. Be sensitive."
"Sensitive!" I don't believe this. "And I wasn't rubbing it in! It's not like I sent those damned things to myself just so I could become the center of attention for a few minutes." No, dear, fragile, "jealous" Mac did that. I'm going to kill her, too.
Sturgis holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "Just—think about it."
My email notice dings, signaling the arrival of new mail, and Sturgis takes that as his cue to leave. "I'll let you get back to work."
I nod absently as I open the reply from Mac to my message. Down at the bottom, under my last threat, are two sentences, followed by two icons:
"Your face was as red as the roses! Ha, Ha!" A smiley rolling over and over, and another, sticking out his tongue, concludes her reply.
Sensitive indeed.
*********
I pulled the blinds closed as soon as I entered my office, so at least no one can see me grinning stupidly as I read Harm's email. They might, however, be able to hear my stifled guffaws, but that just can't be helped.
It's relatively short in length—unusual for my usually chatty Harm—but it's about what I expected. And just as I thought, he did have something planned for tonight—now allegedly scrapped in favor of whatever payback he is cooking up, to "punish" me, I suppose. I'll have to wear something nice—and make sure I break out the good underwear—something lacy and racy. Just in case.
Below Harm's last feeble threat, I type my response and hit send. I feel the corners of my mouth quirk up again in another smile before someone raps on my door and Sturgis enters.
"Sturgis," I greet, trying to regain some of my professionalism.
"Hey, Mac." He takes a seat in one of my chairs.
"What's up?"
"I just wanted…to see…how you were doing."
"Fine." Why is he asking?
"You're okay, about Harm and the flowers, and…mystery girl?"
Ohhhhhhh…I nearly choke on my coffee when I realize his implication.
At least it drowns out my laughter.
"Oh, that," I reply, wondering how I can respond to this without outright lying.
"Yes, 'that,'" Sturgis confirms. "You okay?"
"Yeah, you know, Harm getting flowers didn't really bother me."
Sturgis raises his eyebrow in doubtful concern.
"Really. And besides, I've decided, not to let stuff like that bother me anymore. The, uh, flowers, the girl in Vermont—I'm not going to give into petty feelings of jealousy. That kind of stuff--flirting, the attention from females--is just Harm—it's always surrounded Harm. If you want to be friends with Harm, you just have to get used to it." Ah, there, pretty close to the truth.
"And if you want to be more than friends with Harm?" he asks pointedly.
Great.
"Well, flying into a jealous fit won't do anything to bring you closer to that mark. Harm's not really fond of the jealous, clingy types." Also not a lie. "Anything else?"
"I'm just concerned for you, counselor. I know how you feel about Harm. I just wanted to make sure you're okay with this. From that card, it sounded…well, not serious, but a serious threat to your relationship with Harm—the relationship you want to have with Harm."
I smile softly at Sturgis, touched by his concern for my feelings in the matter. I almost feel guilty for the flower prank.
Almost.
"Well, I'm okay, Sturgis. And from Harm's reaction, I don't think we're going to have any serious hindrances in our friendship," I emphasize. I don't want to give Sturgis any more reason to focus his attention on Harm and I then what already exists.
"Yeah, I don't think he has a clue who sent him roses." Sturgis chuckles.
Guess again, Sturgis.
"Well, as I said, I don't think this will hurt Harm and I. So, have I satisfied all your concerns?"
He smiles. "Yes, I suppose you have. I'm glad to see you taking a positive approach to this, Mac. Well," he says standing up, "I've got work to do, and I know you do, too. Later, colonel."
"Later."
Bobbi has to be a moron if she lets Sturgis get away.