Dammit.
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
I take a deep breath, square my shoulders and rap on room 317, knowing this is a bad idea from its inception. I ignore the "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging on the doorknob and rap again.
I lean forward just a bit and catch the sound of a door closing and a lot of rustling before a pause in activity—most likely Harm looking through the peephole—and the sharp clacks of locks unlocking.
"Hi," I say brightly, confirming this is a mistake the moment I lay eyes on him. He's half-dressed and partly mussed from what appears to be a freshly taken shower.
I take one long look at him and have to fight the urge to jump him immediately.
He just stares at me, hand still on the edge of the door, as though he might close it at any second.
"Hi," he replies after a moment.
"I was in the neighborhood…" I begin jokingly, but it falls flat between us.
He continues to stare at me.
Ohhh-kay. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"I thought you might like some help on the Addison case."
"You drove all this way to help?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, the admiral thought maybe you could use a second investigator."
"The admiral did, did he?" He says with a note of skepticism.
"Yes." We continue to stand in the doorway and I'm starting to get more than a little annoyed, which is undoubtedly a good thing, since nothing is a bigger turn off than when I'm annoyed with Harm.
I glance up at him, ready to tell him what I really think, when I catch his eyes doing a languorous travel down my body.
So much for being turned off.
"Are you going to ask me in?" I ask impatiently. His eyes meet mine, dark and hungry, but he raises an impassive eyebrow and says, "I think us working together is a potentially bad idea."
**********
"God, have I missed you," he murmurs against my mouth, his hands already finishing up the last button on my blouse before discarding the article on the floor.
"You knew this would happen," I accuse, running my fingers through his damp silky hair.
"Me?" he murmurs, fixing that wonderful mouth on the swell of my breast. "You instigated it."
"Instigated it? How?"
He pulls away to look at me. "Mac, you can't tell me that you had no idea this would happen."
"None whatsoever," I reply innocently, taking the moment in which he flashes me a disbelieving look to catch my breath.
"Right. You've got to be kidding me. That look you were giving me was a "Take me now" look if ever I saw one."
"What!"
He divests me of my pants and resumes his lip work.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Flyboy. Just a minute here." I squirm away and attempt to look as dignified and properly offended as one can clad only in skivvies. "Are you saying I came here with the sole intention of getting you to fall into bed with me?"
"Well, no, maybe not the sole intention, but let's face it: I'm just too hard to resist."
Well, resist this, commander. I give him a searing kiss, and just as he is about to renew his assault on my senses, I roll out from under him and take a seat on a nearby chair and flip through a few pages of depositions and notes—which, not incidentally is the case we're supposed to be working on.
"So, how are we coming along here with the case?"
I grab a nearby legal pad and attempt to decipher Harm's messy handwriting. Most of it is a mixed up huddle of information quickly jotted down as they undoubtedly came to Harm's mind, but in the middle of the page, separated by both a blank line above and below it, is a question underlined twice: What's going on with Mac and us?
Good question. But I remind myself of the resolution I came to on the way here. I'm not going to let the voice win. I don't want Harm to get any more confused or discouraged.
Still, it doesn't mean I can't tease Harm a little. Superego over there could stand a bit of a challenge.
He stands and re-buckles his pants with a controlled sigh and smoothes the back of his hair where my fingers wreaked havoc on it.
"The case is fine," he replies a bit breathily. "Things are a little tense with my client, but nothing I can't handle. I don't know why the admiral sent you down here."
"Obviously, he doesn't agree with your assessment. What do you mean by tense?"
He takes a seat across from me and pulls a file out of my hands. "Lieutenant Michael Addison is, well, let's just say he's a bit willful and difficult, and not at all inclined to listen to reason."
"Hmm, sounds like someone I know."
He gives me a dirty look. I return it with a wide smile. "I tried convincing him to accept Commander Rimes' offer, but he's not about to spend two years at Leavenworth, when he can go to trial and spend ten." He sighs tiredly, giving me an indication just how fed up he is with the whole situation and now I can see why the admiral saw it best to have me assist.
I am, after all, a frighteningly adept mediator.
"Hmm, well, perhaps I can reason with him."
Harm snorts. This time I'm the one giving out dirty looks. "What?"
"No offense, Mac, but unless you're planning to 'help' lieutenant Addison the way you planned to 'help' me, I don't think you'll have much success."
"Excuse me?"
He gestures to my attire. "Don't get me wrong. You're an excellent attorney, and I'm sure you'll put up a very convincing argument, but trust me, you'd have a better chance of getting through to him showing up in that." Again he gestures to my lingerie, this time almost reverently. "And even then, I wouldn't hold my breath." He pauses. "Victoria's Secrets?"
"Yes. And I'll have you know I did not come here just to have a few jollies with you in bed."
"That's a shame, marine, because it's a big bed and I'm more than willing to share a few jollies with you in it." He gives me a lopsided grin. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.
"That would be unprofessional, Commander Rabb."
"Yes, it would, but it would also be infinitely satisfying don't you think?"
Undoubtedly.
"I am merely here to assist you with the case, as per the admiral's orders."
"Well, you know, we always perform well as a team," he says, just the slightest emphasis on 'perform'.
I raise my eyes from the brief I've been staring at off and on for the past ten minutes and stare into the glittering seductive gaze of a man on a mission. Which only reminds me that I've got a goal here, too, and spending the night with Harm isn't it.
Although, it would be a nice way to spend an evening.
"And we both work better when we get our minds off a difficult case for awhile," continues, slipping a hand underneath the table to caress my knee and thigh.
"You might, commander, but I'm new to this case and I need to bone up on it."
"I'd be happy to debrief you, Mac," he replies easily, looking at my lacy underwear.
I don't doubt it. I shift in my seat and try to slow the pulse racing through my body.
"Tell you what, colonel, we'll compromise—you can bone up on the case while I debrief you." He says, emphasis on a few well-chosen words as he leers at me. Then he leans across the table to capture my mouth. His finger slides higher along my leg, until it's tracing the lacy edge of my underwear.
I will my eyes not to close as I think of all the pleasures one can derive from his fingers, but it's no use, and I find my eyelids slipping shut and my body responding to his soft touch.
I knew this was a mistake. I knew coming here would mean that we probably wouldn't act in accordance with some important military rules and regulations. But hell, when have we ever since we started this relationship?
Yes. Big mistake, MacKenzie.
His mouth keeps doing what its doing and this will be the best damned mistake I've ever made.
"Harm…"
"Hmm…?"
He pushes out of his chair and pulls me out of mine and brings me flush with his body.
"We really should work."
"We are. I'm helping you bone up, remember?"
No, I think it's the other way around, commander, I think as he pulls me even tighter to him.
Oh, hell with it. I'm here, he's here. A bed's here. What more do we really need?
**********
I roll over onto my side and wince as something sharp jabs into it. I sleepily reach around for the offending object and pull what feels to be a file folder out from under me. I squint at it for a moment in the early morning darkness before sighing tiredly. I toss it in the direction of the table and hear it miss entirely, splashing papers all across the floor. I heave another sigh.
It's too damn early to even think about anything now. I close my eyes and bury my head in my flat pillow, attempting to find the comfort I'm seeking. I sigh again and almost fall out of bed when it echoes from behind me. A moment later a slender arm reaches around and wraps around my middle. A second after that I feel the weight of something bulky and heavy press against my shoulder blades.
My eyes are wider and brighter than I ever known them to be at 3:49 in the morning. As carefully—and as quickly—as possible I turn around and feel something silky and, well, hairy come into contact with my mouth.
Oh, it's just Mac. Thank God.
I close my eyes and smile. Well, this morning is shaping up nicely. Get Lieutenant Addison to see the light of day and my day will be complete.
Oh, Christ.
My eyes pop open again as I realize the implications of Mac sleeping here beside me. In my bed. In my hotel room. That JAG is paying for. Because I'm on an investigation. She's assisting me on the investigation.
We're supposed to be working together not sleeping together. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. How are we going to explain only one hotel room on our expense reports? Well, admiral, we know how hard up the military is for funding and we thought we'd economize by sharing a bed and a shower, and some other things that are probably better left unsaid.
The hits just keep on coming as I recall not too long ago Mac said she wanted to take things slow, and here we are in bed together on JAG's dime. This time I sigh disgustedly, ashamed to know I let my hormones once again cast the deciding vote in my relationship with Mac.
But does taking it slow mean not having sex at all or just not as much or what? Seems to me that it's pretty vague, but I can't help but feel I might be trying to rationalize it to my favor.
"Mac?" I whisper, not wanting to alarm her to the mess we've potentially gotten ourselves into, but it can't hurt to start brainstorming a way out of it.
"Mac?" This time I nudge her with my elbow.
She murmurs something sleepily in my ear and slides her leg across my thigh and I consider putting off the unpleasant duty of informing my partner that we may be court-martialed in favor of a far more enjoyable morning task.
No, no, no, Rabb. That kind of thinking is what got you into this mess.
"Mac."
"Hmm?"
"Mac?"
"Hmm."
"Mac, wake up."
"Unh-uh," is what I think she says.
"Uh, Mac, we've got a problem."
"Hmm?" This time there's a note of confusion, and I know I've got at least part of her intention now.
"You're in my bed."
"Is that a problem?" she drawls, sliding her arm across my chest and down my abdomen.
"Uh, no, not generally, but the admiral might not see it that way."
I wait for the inevitable explosion.
"Agghh!" She shrieks, sitting bolt upright in bed, covers slipping off her and me.
"Shhh!" I hiss, trying to reclaim some of the blankets and warmth.
"Harm!" She whirls around to stare at me in disbelief. "What are we going to do?"
"Tell me you checked in, that you have your own room."
The worried look smoothes away and she breathes a hefty sigh of relief.
"I did check in, I do have my own room. Whew, thank goodness. You had me worried, Harm." She flops back down on her side and pulls the blankets over her shoulder.
"That's it?"
I can see the white of her eyes gleaming in the darkness of the room when she opens them. She looks at me questioningly.
"You're just going to waltz out of here this morning in the now wrinkled uniform you wore last night?"
"Of course not. Well, I suppose so, temporarily at least, until I reach my room where I will pull out a freshly pressed uniform from my bag and get dressed and go about my work as usual. And I'll also make sure to make the bed look properly slept in and the room properly used." She gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Go back to sleep."
"And you think that will work?" I ask skeptically, wondering how someone, who not two weeks before was freaking out about us, is now suddenly okay with something this big looming before us.
"Mm-hmm."
"What are you going to say if somebody asks where you were?"
There's a pause, and then the soft touch of her lips at the juncture of my jaw and throat, and when she speaks I can hear the smile in her voice.
"I'll say you were up all night debriefing me."