Title - Trust (9/10)
Author - Moneypenny
Feedback - yes please, to Miss_mp45@yahoo.co.uk
Rating - PG13
Archive - If anyone would like this then yes, feel free. Just tell me where.
Disclaimers - see part one
******************
"Earth to Mac..."
Barely aware of Sturgis' good-natured jibe, it was his hand waving in front of her face that brought Mac to a halt. Her thoughts miles away from the entrance to the bullpen where she was now standing, she reluctantly acknowledged her friend's presence.
"Morning."
Concern flickered across Sturgis' features. "Anything I can help you with?" he asked, joining her as she weaved her way around the edge of the bullpen.
Casual, she told herself. Keep it casual. "What makes you think there's anything wrong?"
"You look like your best friend just died," he replied, his sympathetic smile removing any sting from his words.
He hasn't died, she thought to herself. He's just...injured. And I don't know how to help him. With a start she realised they'd made it to her office and Sturgis was still standing beside her, his head cocked to one side as he studied her closely.
"It's complicated," she explained, the unintentional irony of her words making her smile.
Sturgis studied her for a moment more then smiled back, the warmth in his brown eyes injecting warmth into her soul. "I've got time if you have."
For a second she was tempted. If she were to tell anyone what was on her mind, she decided, then it would be Sturgis. But that would mean betraying Harm. "Thanks..."
"...But no thanks," Sturgis finished for her, no trace of rancour in his tone. "Okay, but you know where to find me," he told her, before heading for his own office.
Thanks, she whispered under breath, immensely grateful for his quiet presence. Lack of sleep the night before, even by her standards, was making it difficult for her to think straight. Her thoughts had been stuck in a continuous loop ever since she'd left the hospital the night before. Biting back a tired sigh, she straightened her shoulders and headed for her own office.
"Excuse me, Ma'am," Harriet cut in, intercepting her before she had even gone a few steps. "I was wondering if you knew anything about these?"
'These' was a box of files that Harriet had balanced in her arms, her chin resting on the top file. Harriet's trademark enthusiasm could be overwhelming on just a few hours sleep, Mac discovered at that moment. Not fair, she added, mentally berating herself for taking out her frustration on the younger woman.
"What are they?"
"I found them downstairs in Records, on the floor." Moving a step closer, Harriet's voice dropped to a more conspiratorial level. "I know you were looking for the Commander last night and I just wondered..."
The files that Harm had dropped the night before. Damn. Between rushing to get Harm out of the building and dealing with the fallout from the bombshell he'd unknowingly dropped on her at the hospital, she'd completely forgotten about the files. It hadn't even occurred to her to ask him why he'd been down in Records in the first place. A quick scan of the files didn't leave her any the wiser.
"Aren't these ready to go into Central Records?" she asked, reading the labels stuck on the outside.
"Yes, Ma'am. Once we no longer need them, or the case is assigned to another section, we move the files over there. These ones were boxed up last week."
"Well, Harm was the one looking for them," Mac mused out loud, ignoring Harriet's sudden look of interest. "Put them in his office, Harriet. He can read them when he..." When he what? Harm had promised her that he would call the Admiral first thing that morning. He'd pretty much been out of it though when she'd finally left him in his apartment in the early hours of that morning. What if he hadn't made the call yet? "...When he gets back," she finished briskly hoping Harriet would take the hint and leave it at that.
Taking hints wasn't one of Harriet's strong points. "When he gets back, Ma'am?" she asked, her features creasing up in a frown. "I don't understand -"
"I'll explain later," Mac promised, one hand reaching out for her office door.
"But he's in his office, Ma'am."
"What?"
Hampered by the box of files she was holding Harriet attempted to nod in the direction of Harm's office. "The Commander's in already, Ma'am. Do you want me to take these through?"
Hearing Harriet's words but not wanting to understand them, Mac leaned back to get a look at Harm's office and check the evidence for herself. "Dammit." Turning back to the now wide-eyed Lieutenant, she snatched the box of files from her. "I'll take them," she ground out, turning and stalking towards Harm's office before Harriet could draw breath.
Not bothering to knock, she entered Harm's office, kicking the door shut with her heel and dumping the box on his desk with a deliberate lack of ceremony. "Want to tell me what's going on?" she asked, her tone dangerously low.
The welcoming smile that Harm had been wearing wavered as he looked up at her from his seat on the other side of the desk. "I'm working."
Her vision already an angry shade of red, Mac found herself struggling not to explode. He'd_promised_ her he'd call the Admiral, that he'd take a few days off as the doctor had ordered. And now he was calmly sitting in his office, as though the whole episode at the hospital had just been a bad dream.
"Don't Harm, just don't," she warned him as his expression changed to one of wounded innocence. "You know what I'm talking about. You said you were going to talk to the Admiral."
"And I was," he replied, pushing himself up from his chair and walking round the desk, "but whatever the doc did, it worked. Almost feels good as new."
Mac watched in silence as Harm flexed his injured arm. She felt like a gun-powder keg that had just had its fuse lit; on a slow burn and ready to explode at any moment.
"So, how about the physiotherapy? Changed your mind about that too?"
"No, of course not." He seemed to consider a smile then catching the look on her face, changed his mind. "They called this morning. They've got a slot at 14:30."
"And you're going?"
"Don't see why not." With a shrug, he perched himself on the edge of his desk and met her gaze. "I figure we'll have the rest of the witness interviews finished by then."
"Interviews?"
"You remember, Mac. I left a message on your answer machine yesterday morning."
She could vaguely remember listening to the message. But if she remembered correctly, the place where the interviews were being held was more than a two-hour drive away. "I doubt we'll make it back in time -"
"Then I'll get them to reschedule for another day," he shrugged again.
Of course he would, mocked the angry little voice in her mind. "I could go on my own," she suggested, crossing her arms over her chest. "Then you'd have ti-"
"No!" Harm shot back, half rising from his seat. "I'm coming with you."
"I can manage a few interviews without-"
"I'm coming with you," Harm insisted, the stubborn set of his jaw telling her the argument, as far as he was concerned, was over. The silence that followed told her that he was expecting her to say something, probably to back down. As the seconds passed and she didn't move, he tried a different tack. Penitence.
"You know, I haven't thanked you for last night," he told her, his soft, self-depreciating grin making a cameo appearance. "How about we do these interviews then I cook you dinner. Your choice of food. How about it?"
That soft, self-depreciating grin was a killer, Mac observed, her mind processing the information with cool detachment. Normally she'd be smiling back, jumping at the chance to spend the evening with him.
Not tonight.
"I'll think about it," she replied coolly, gathering herself up to leave. Of course, she could point out to him that the appointment with the physiotherapist had just miraculously disappeared from his afternoon schedule. But what was the point, the angry voice yelled at her. He'd just say it was a slip of the tongue.
"Oh. Okay..."
There was a hurt note in his voice but she blanked it out. The short fuse she'd been on when she'd entered his office was rapidly burning down to a stub and she needed to get out. Turning on her heel, she marched to the door. Yanking it open, she found Harriet standing on the other side.
"Sorry, Ma'am, Sir," Harriet greeted them. Shooting Mac a wary glance, she turned her attention to Harm. "Um, I brought your keys for the pool car, Sir," she explained, edging her way into the office.
"Thanks, Harriet." Sliding off the desk, Harm took the keys and returned to the other side of the desk. "Meet you downstairs in ten minutes?"
With a start, Mac realised the last comment had been directed at her. "Yeah," she murmured. As Harriet disappeared again she saw an opportunity to escape. One hand on the door, she was half way out when her heart whispered to her, its betrayal stopping her in her tracks.
Just give him one last chance.
With a deep sigh she turned around again, resigned to telling him everything. "Harm, at the hospital last night, when you asked me to leave -"
"You still worrying, Marine?" he cut in, one eyebrow cocked, his expression one of mock-sterness.
"Yes...no..." Anger was making her words trip over each other.
"I'm fine, Mac. Really."
Catching his gaze, she held it, pouring everything she felt into the moment. "Are you sure? I mean_really_ sure?"
Harm blew away her concerns out of the water with a shrug. "Yeah." His face creasing into a frown he seemed on the verge of saying something else. Hope flared in her heart, only for it fade again as he pointed at the files she'd dumped on his desk.
"Your files," she cut in coldly before he could say anything else. "From last night."
A look of relief flittered across his face. "Right."
With a small shake of her head she admitted defeat. He'd expressed more emotion over the damn files than he had when she'd asked him how he was. Marching out of Harm's office, she was vaguely aware of Bud saying something to her but she brushed him away with another shake of her head, all thoughts focused on reaching the sanctuary of her office.
Shutting the door behind her, she came to a halt in the middle of her office. Unaware of anything but the deafening beat of her heart, she forced herself to take several steadying breaths. Her hands were shaking she realised, bringing them up in front of her face. Her palms were dotted with dark half-crescents; perfect imprints of her fingernails.
How_dare_he use her like this. He'd used her before to cover for him but she'd been willing then, always ready to trust his gut instinct. He was good at what he did; it was just his methods that could be considered unconventional. This was...this was something different.
Sucking in another deep breath, she wandered over to the window, not seeing the scene outside as her mind whirled. She needed to apply some Marine logic to the problem but she couldn't. Harm was risking his career,_his health_ and he was expecting her to go along with it. In all the years she'd known him she'd rarely refused him anything. This time she didn't know what to do.
She had no right to decide how he ran his life, she acknowledged with a pang of sadness. But she couldn't let him destroy it either, whatever convoluted reason he had for justifying for it. And he would have one, he always did.
Walking back over to her desk she sat down. The anger she'd felt in Harm's office was abating. Suddenly she felt too weary to argue anymore. She needed to talk to someone and Sturgis sprung to mind but reluctantly she dismissed him. As much as she hated to admit it she needed someone who could talk to Harm, to make him do what she hadn't been able to.
"Tiner?" she asked several minutes later as she approached the Petty Officer's desk, "is the Admiral in?"
************
TBC
Author - Moneypenny
Feedback - yes please, to Miss_mp45@yahoo.co.uk
Rating - PG13
Archive - If anyone would like this then yes, feel free. Just tell me where.
Disclaimers - see part one
******************
"Earth to Mac..."
Barely aware of Sturgis' good-natured jibe, it was his hand waving in front of her face that brought Mac to a halt. Her thoughts miles away from the entrance to the bullpen where she was now standing, she reluctantly acknowledged her friend's presence.
"Morning."
Concern flickered across Sturgis' features. "Anything I can help you with?" he asked, joining her as she weaved her way around the edge of the bullpen.
Casual, she told herself. Keep it casual. "What makes you think there's anything wrong?"
"You look like your best friend just died," he replied, his sympathetic smile removing any sting from his words.
He hasn't died, she thought to herself. He's just...injured. And I don't know how to help him. With a start she realised they'd made it to her office and Sturgis was still standing beside her, his head cocked to one side as he studied her closely.
"It's complicated," she explained, the unintentional irony of her words making her smile.
Sturgis studied her for a moment more then smiled back, the warmth in his brown eyes injecting warmth into her soul. "I've got time if you have."
For a second she was tempted. If she were to tell anyone what was on her mind, she decided, then it would be Sturgis. But that would mean betraying Harm. "Thanks..."
"...But no thanks," Sturgis finished for her, no trace of rancour in his tone. "Okay, but you know where to find me," he told her, before heading for his own office.
Thanks, she whispered under breath, immensely grateful for his quiet presence. Lack of sleep the night before, even by her standards, was making it difficult for her to think straight. Her thoughts had been stuck in a continuous loop ever since she'd left the hospital the night before. Biting back a tired sigh, she straightened her shoulders and headed for her own office.
"Excuse me, Ma'am," Harriet cut in, intercepting her before she had even gone a few steps. "I was wondering if you knew anything about these?"
'These' was a box of files that Harriet had balanced in her arms, her chin resting on the top file. Harriet's trademark enthusiasm could be overwhelming on just a few hours sleep, Mac discovered at that moment. Not fair, she added, mentally berating herself for taking out her frustration on the younger woman.
"What are they?"
"I found them downstairs in Records, on the floor." Moving a step closer, Harriet's voice dropped to a more conspiratorial level. "I know you were looking for the Commander last night and I just wondered..."
The files that Harm had dropped the night before. Damn. Between rushing to get Harm out of the building and dealing with the fallout from the bombshell he'd unknowingly dropped on her at the hospital, she'd completely forgotten about the files. It hadn't even occurred to her to ask him why he'd been down in Records in the first place. A quick scan of the files didn't leave her any the wiser.
"Aren't these ready to go into Central Records?" she asked, reading the labels stuck on the outside.
"Yes, Ma'am. Once we no longer need them, or the case is assigned to another section, we move the files over there. These ones were boxed up last week."
"Well, Harm was the one looking for them," Mac mused out loud, ignoring Harriet's sudden look of interest. "Put them in his office, Harriet. He can read them when he..." When he what? Harm had promised her that he would call the Admiral first thing that morning. He'd pretty much been out of it though when she'd finally left him in his apartment in the early hours of that morning. What if he hadn't made the call yet? "...When he gets back," she finished briskly hoping Harriet would take the hint and leave it at that.
Taking hints wasn't one of Harriet's strong points. "When he gets back, Ma'am?" she asked, her features creasing up in a frown. "I don't understand -"
"I'll explain later," Mac promised, one hand reaching out for her office door.
"But he's in his office, Ma'am."
"What?"
Hampered by the box of files she was holding Harriet attempted to nod in the direction of Harm's office. "The Commander's in already, Ma'am. Do you want me to take these through?"
Hearing Harriet's words but not wanting to understand them, Mac leaned back to get a look at Harm's office and check the evidence for herself. "Dammit." Turning back to the now wide-eyed Lieutenant, she snatched the box of files from her. "I'll take them," she ground out, turning and stalking towards Harm's office before Harriet could draw breath.
Not bothering to knock, she entered Harm's office, kicking the door shut with her heel and dumping the box on his desk with a deliberate lack of ceremony. "Want to tell me what's going on?" she asked, her tone dangerously low.
The welcoming smile that Harm had been wearing wavered as he looked up at her from his seat on the other side of the desk. "I'm working."
Her vision already an angry shade of red, Mac found herself struggling not to explode. He'd_promised_ her he'd call the Admiral, that he'd take a few days off as the doctor had ordered. And now he was calmly sitting in his office, as though the whole episode at the hospital had just been a bad dream.
"Don't Harm, just don't," she warned him as his expression changed to one of wounded innocence. "You know what I'm talking about. You said you were going to talk to the Admiral."
"And I was," he replied, pushing himself up from his chair and walking round the desk, "but whatever the doc did, it worked. Almost feels good as new."
Mac watched in silence as Harm flexed his injured arm. She felt like a gun-powder keg that had just had its fuse lit; on a slow burn and ready to explode at any moment.
"So, how about the physiotherapy? Changed your mind about that too?"
"No, of course not." He seemed to consider a smile then catching the look on her face, changed his mind. "They called this morning. They've got a slot at 14:30."
"And you're going?"
"Don't see why not." With a shrug, he perched himself on the edge of his desk and met her gaze. "I figure we'll have the rest of the witness interviews finished by then."
"Interviews?"
"You remember, Mac. I left a message on your answer machine yesterday morning."
She could vaguely remember listening to the message. But if she remembered correctly, the place where the interviews were being held was more than a two-hour drive away. "I doubt we'll make it back in time -"
"Then I'll get them to reschedule for another day," he shrugged again.
Of course he would, mocked the angry little voice in her mind. "I could go on my own," she suggested, crossing her arms over her chest. "Then you'd have ti-"
"No!" Harm shot back, half rising from his seat. "I'm coming with you."
"I can manage a few interviews without-"
"I'm coming with you," Harm insisted, the stubborn set of his jaw telling her the argument, as far as he was concerned, was over. The silence that followed told her that he was expecting her to say something, probably to back down. As the seconds passed and she didn't move, he tried a different tack. Penitence.
"You know, I haven't thanked you for last night," he told her, his soft, self-depreciating grin making a cameo appearance. "How about we do these interviews then I cook you dinner. Your choice of food. How about it?"
That soft, self-depreciating grin was a killer, Mac observed, her mind processing the information with cool detachment. Normally she'd be smiling back, jumping at the chance to spend the evening with him.
Not tonight.
"I'll think about it," she replied coolly, gathering herself up to leave. Of course, she could point out to him that the appointment with the physiotherapist had just miraculously disappeared from his afternoon schedule. But what was the point, the angry voice yelled at her. He'd just say it was a slip of the tongue.
"Oh. Okay..."
There was a hurt note in his voice but she blanked it out. The short fuse she'd been on when she'd entered his office was rapidly burning down to a stub and she needed to get out. Turning on her heel, she marched to the door. Yanking it open, she found Harriet standing on the other side.
"Sorry, Ma'am, Sir," Harriet greeted them. Shooting Mac a wary glance, she turned her attention to Harm. "Um, I brought your keys for the pool car, Sir," she explained, edging her way into the office.
"Thanks, Harriet." Sliding off the desk, Harm took the keys and returned to the other side of the desk. "Meet you downstairs in ten minutes?"
With a start, Mac realised the last comment had been directed at her. "Yeah," she murmured. As Harriet disappeared again she saw an opportunity to escape. One hand on the door, she was half way out when her heart whispered to her, its betrayal stopping her in her tracks.
Just give him one last chance.
With a deep sigh she turned around again, resigned to telling him everything. "Harm, at the hospital last night, when you asked me to leave -"
"You still worrying, Marine?" he cut in, one eyebrow cocked, his expression one of mock-sterness.
"Yes...no..." Anger was making her words trip over each other.
"I'm fine, Mac. Really."
Catching his gaze, she held it, pouring everything she felt into the moment. "Are you sure? I mean_really_ sure?"
Harm blew away her concerns out of the water with a shrug. "Yeah." His face creasing into a frown he seemed on the verge of saying something else. Hope flared in her heart, only for it fade again as he pointed at the files she'd dumped on his desk.
"Your files," she cut in coldly before he could say anything else. "From last night."
A look of relief flittered across his face. "Right."
With a small shake of her head she admitted defeat. He'd expressed more emotion over the damn files than he had when she'd asked him how he was. Marching out of Harm's office, she was vaguely aware of Bud saying something to her but she brushed him away with another shake of her head, all thoughts focused on reaching the sanctuary of her office.
Shutting the door behind her, she came to a halt in the middle of her office. Unaware of anything but the deafening beat of her heart, she forced herself to take several steadying breaths. Her hands were shaking she realised, bringing them up in front of her face. Her palms were dotted with dark half-crescents; perfect imprints of her fingernails.
How_dare_he use her like this. He'd used her before to cover for him but she'd been willing then, always ready to trust his gut instinct. He was good at what he did; it was just his methods that could be considered unconventional. This was...this was something different.
Sucking in another deep breath, she wandered over to the window, not seeing the scene outside as her mind whirled. She needed to apply some Marine logic to the problem but she couldn't. Harm was risking his career,_his health_ and he was expecting her to go along with it. In all the years she'd known him she'd rarely refused him anything. This time she didn't know what to do.
She had no right to decide how he ran his life, she acknowledged with a pang of sadness. But she couldn't let him destroy it either, whatever convoluted reason he had for justifying for it. And he would have one, he always did.
Walking back over to her desk she sat down. The anger she'd felt in Harm's office was abating. Suddenly she felt too weary to argue anymore. She needed to talk to someone and Sturgis sprung to mind but reluctantly she dismissed him. As much as she hated to admit it she needed someone who could talk to Harm, to make him do what she hadn't been able to.
"Tiner?" she asked several minutes later as she approached the Petty Officer's desk, "is the Admiral in?"
************
TBC
