Hehe, you guys are fun, really. I've had all sorts of funky reviews. LOL! Thanks so much for your words, good and bad. .. though I appreciate the good ones more. ;)
Jackie
Thanks to: XBlueShadowX, Aimee5, Charmboy4, starryeyes10, Nikki, dansingwolf, jag4ever, lei, Jackia, EternalSleep, Cristina, Tina Frank, achaon, Abigaile, Hieros Gamos, froggy0319, joanoa, JadeAlmasy, SpaceMan546, dansingwolf, carbygirl , JAGJenni, Manda, starryeyes, BiteBeccy, ng59678, LtColDevilDog, martini, mizukimarr, jtbwriter, Macaroon, Lissie, n.k, Lt.jgMegAustin, cbw, dansingwolf, Apion, alix33, jnp, MacHarm4Ever, Tania, Macaroon, harmfan, Jagnut, Claire Vincent, Navy Babe, Nix, Martini, jaggurl, Laura, CoolCat, sunnysky, smithknk, mjag, FoxyWombat, carbygirl, moonlight, socgrl, NinjaTurtle, Sunny and anyone else I missed for the Feedback
PS: My name was GuitarVixen on ffnet, I changed it to Radiorox seeing as it's a name I had for a while. Not sure what the point of GuitarVixen was. Just wanted you doods to know that you have't gone crazy. ;)
PART 6 - What Are the Odds?
0120 Zulu
North East Of Corner Brook
Newfoundland, Canada
"That's it, we're lost!" Mac stated, yanking the map away from Harm and attempting to study it. They'd spent the better part of the day literally going in circles. Maybe their whole "truth or dare" thing wasn't a good idea. She was sure, that due to their chit chat, he'd missed something. "If I see that rock one more time, I am going to scream." They'd passed it at least four times.
Harm settled himself up against a tree, took out his pills and the canteen. "Well, Little Miss Know It All, see if you can make heads or tails of that thing."
"I would be able to if someone didn't drop the damned map in a stream." It was always amusing how nice moments between the two of them could be shattered in a matter of minutes. This time though, she wasn't blaming him just because. When crossing a stream, she'd suggested that he put the tattered map in a plastic bag inside the pack. He didn't. While crossing, Harm slipped on a slick rock and in went the map. Now, they could barely tell where they were going as some of the ink had run, causing one big mess. "Why couldn't you, just once listen to me? I told you to stow it, but noooooo, you hang on to this damned thing as if it were a lifeline." She waved the map in front of his face.
"It is alright!" He yelled at her, then yanked the paper out of her hands. Mac wouldn't understand that, to him, that map was something more than just a piece of paper. It was given to him by the woman that saved him. A woman that he was sure was probably dead as a result. It needed to be with him until the end, because he wanted to bury the last reminder of his ordeal in the very place it had occurred. "I don't expect you to understand. . .I just. .needed to have it in my hands, okay."
Mac took a breath and propped herself up on the rock that she was starting to hate. She took our her own canteen and took a long gulp. "What now, then?"
"I don't know." His voice was hard, irritated. On top of the whole map thing, there was another problem. The compass had been giving them a wrong reading due to the iron-rich rock they were standing on. True, they could use the sun to at least figure out which way was east, but the way Creswell and Chegwidden had mapped out a trail required a precise coordinate, or the closest thing to it.
Deep breaths weren't cutting it anymore. At the moment, Mac wanted nothing more than to run around screaming until she collapsed from exhaustion. Couldn't things, for once, go easy for them? Murphy and his stupid law did seem to have it in for them. Harm's fatigue didn't help either. Though he'd been taking the anti-opiate and vitamins, his body was starved for rest. True, they usually made it out, but she didn't want their snipping to turn into another Paraguay. "Look, I'm sorry for snapping."
Harm looked up at her and nodded. "Yea, me too. . .Look, we'll . . ." His words of reassurance were cut short when a gunshot echoed in the area.
Almost immediately, both of them sprung up and reached into their packs for their weapons. Mac followed Harm through the trees, stopping behind a fallen timber. "Did you catch where it came from?" She whispered, her eyes surveying the land as best she could. Within the last few minutes that they stood there arguing, the wind began to pick up. The air had a strong smell of atmosphere, it was going to pour.
Harm squinted. "Nope, but let's try going down this hill, maybe we can get a better look."
Slowly, the pair headed downwards, stopping ever so often to take cover behind trees or rocks just in case the gunshots came from unfriendlies. They weren't going to take any chances. "What are the odds of us running into deranged hillbillies again?"
Harm chuckled softly. "I'd say slim to. . ." He paused when he noted a man wearing flannel and carrying a shot gun and some sort of dead animal, stepping into some sort of shack. "Okay. . . but that doesn't mean that he's deranged. . ." He took out a pair of binoculars, noting that the man appeared to be alone. "Look, I say we go down there and tell him we're lost."
"Uh huh, because that worked so well last time?" It was a miracle that they'd made it out with minimal injuries. Well not so minimal, Mac did have a bullet stuck in her thigh and both of them had been suffering from exhaustion. She had to admit, the three days they'd remained in the hospital had been fun. Feeling guilty over putting her in a dangerous situation, Harm had faked feeling sick in order to stay by her side.
"Do you always have to be so negative?"
"No, I just happen to know that you and I get in trouble A LOT, so I am shooting for the realistic approach."
"C'mon, Mac. . .if anything we have our weapons." He tapped his pistol, confident that nothing was going to happen so long as they kept their covers. "We can be lost topographical analysts." He added with a grin.
Mac sighed deeply. She took the binoculars from Harm and looked down to find the man building a fire. He seemed to be completely obvious to the two pairs of eyes glancing down at him. "Fiiiiine! But, if you get shot, I am not carrying your six off of this mountain. . . And don't forget we don't have 'Sarah' this time."
Harm stared down at the man, thoughts of him and Mac hiding from the poachers came to mind. They'd barely made it out; he didn't want that happening again. The fear he felt at not keeping his promise, of not getting her out, started to overwhelm him. "You know? I'm not liking this. . Let's get out of here. . .quietly."
The sound of a rifle being cocked halted their movements. "How about you stay?"
The two of them turned around slowly to find a woman, possibly in her late thirties standing there aiming a rather large shot gun at Harm. "Your pistols. . .toss 'em over." She requested, in an accent that sounded slightly mid eastern, but was difficult to place. When the pair did as told, she bent down and picked up one pistol, tucking it into her belt, then did the same with the other. "Hands behind your heads. ." She motioned with the barrel of the gun to the area they should headed to.
Harm let Mac move in ahead of him, his eyes remaining on her as he wished they could communicate telepathically. Not that he had too much to say at the moment. The woman walked them off of the hill and down towards the shack. The smell of rot was overwhelming, causing both Harm and Mac to gag slightly.
"Pete. . .Where the hell did you go?" The woman motioned for Harm and Mac to get on their knees, a task that wasn't too easy when each of them was still wearing a pack. She glanced around the area, and took one quick look into the shack. "Get out here, we got company."
Pete stepped out, his shirt covered with blood as was a knife that he was using to skin the animal he had killed. Neither of the two looked too bad for being mountain people. Their clothing, save for the blood on Pete's shirt, were clean so were their hair and fingernails. Even the weapons seemed to be well kept. He gave a smile to Harm and settled his gaze on Mac. Languidly, he stared at her up and down, undressing her with is eyes, an action that repulsed Mac. "Well. . .Well. . .Who do we have here?"
"We mean you no harm. My name is David and this is my wife Cathy. . .We're scientists." Harm said, not really buying that statement himself. Maybe if it didn't sound so rehearsed?
Mac nodded. "Yes, we are surveying the land. . .It's what we do, topographical analyzing." She did a bit better, but neither of them had a clue exactly what their guises' jobs entailed.
Pete's accent was clearly European. "Marcy, I do believe we have us a set of Yanks." Taking a rag from his back pocket, he proceeded to clean the blood off of his hands and knife. "Question is, what are we going to do with them?"
Harm gulped, attempting to look more out of ease with the situation than he really was. Oh sure, he was worried, but it wasn't time to panic yet. "Look, we were just hiking, if you can let us be on our way. . ."
"Hiking with pistols, eh?" Marcy noted
"Yes, Dave and I do this a lot." Mac said. "One time a wild animal attacked and nearly took Dave's life. Since then, we decided to bring protection." It seemed like a viable excuse. She'd believe it herself.
Cautiously Harm stood up, keeping his hands behind his head. "We'll be out of your hair in no time, really. . .We don't want any trouble."
"Well I say you two should stick around. . . Dave." Pete stepped up closer to Harm. He ran the knife playfully down Harm's midsection then grinned. "Especially Cathy over here. . .I don't get a chance to see such pretty ladies."
Mac resisted the urge to groan, the way he was looking at her was repulsive. "What about Marcy here? Wouldn't she be jealous?"
Marcy laughed, which ended up sounding more like a cackle. "Not at all. . . Don't want Pete here to get bored."
Suddenly Mac had an overwhelming urge to find Murphy and let him know where he could stick his law. Not only did they have to worry about Temir and his men, now they had deranged hillbillies on their hands. One of which seemed like he hadn't seen a woman in years. She almost wished he'd try something on her, if the gun hadn't been trained towards her, he'd get a taste of a Marine's wrath. "Please, we have money. . .We'll hand it all over if you let us go."
"Hmmm. . . as tempting as that all sounds, we can't do that." Pete grinned at Harm then ran his eyes over Mac again. "And you can cut the whole Dave and Cathy bullshit, I know who you really are."
"Yea who's that?" Harm asked, angrily tightening his jaw. This just wasn't getting any better.
"You're that Naval Commander that Mr. Temir is looking for. . . we were told to look out for you." Marcy said and they could swear they saw dollar signs in her eyes.
Mac stood slowly and stepped to Harm's side as Pete came close to her. "What's your real name?" He tried to intimidate her and when he noticed it wasn't working, he pulled his knife up. "Huh? C'mon beautiful. . .Who are you?" He traced the knife over her throat, then downward, popping a few of the buttons on her shirt scratching her slightly in between the valley her breasts. Mac's breathing hitched ever so slightly, the stoic Marine would not scream.
"Son of a bitch!" But even the slight hitch alerted Harm that Pete had injured his Marine. He launched himself at Pete, aiming for the knife which fell somewhere between them. His reflexes still needed some work, as a second later, said knife was pointed at his throat, biting into his skin.
"Give me a reason, just a reason to slit your throat, Commander."
"You can't kill me, he needs me." Harm knew that to be the truth, or at least he hoped he was still valuable to Temir. The terrorist needed someone with his knowledge of the planes to get them moving. Hopefully, unlike the CIA, Temir would like him alive. "Temir needs me."
Pete nodded. "Yes, he does. . .but he doesn't need her." He motioned towards Mac who wisely didn't move as Marcy still had her shot gun trained on the Marine. "Marcy, take her down to the lake. . .I'll be there in a few minutes."
Harm shook his head. "No, don't hurt her. Please."
"Don't worry about it, Commander. . .I just want to have a little fun." It was the saccharine sweetness of his voice that had Harm nearly throwing up. He knew what Pete was going to do to Mac and he had to stop it. "She is lovely, isn't she?" He said, pointing towards Mac, who was being led through the forest by Marcy.
"You aren't accomplishing anything by hurting her." Harm said. "Besides, leaving her alone with Marcy is a bad idea. . . Mac's a Marine. . .and she is just waiting for a moment to strike."
Pete chuckled. "Oooh a feisty Marine, huh? Well, then being with this Mac, will be even more enjoyable for me. There's nothing better than a woman that squirms." He grabbed the pack from Harm and heaved it to the ground. Pulling a rope from the back of his pocket he worked on some special knot, then tied Harm up. It was strung from his neck, down his torso and to his hands which were now behind his back. The rope was tied in such a way that the more Harm moved, the tighter the knot would get. "I'll tell you what, Commander. . .If you can get out of your bindings, then you can save your friend." He jammed the knife into the ground, just inches away from Harm. "Go ahead, give it a try."
Harm made to move forward, but once he did, he felt the rope tighten, threatening to rip his arm out of its socket. Groaning, he tried again, but the knots became even tighter. "You sick bastard."
The madman in front of him couldn't agree more. "Ah, so I am. . . so I am. . . Now, excuse me, I need to clean up a bit for your friend." He headed into the shack and disappeared.
"Take your pack off." Marcy stripped the pack off of Mac and tossed it to the ground.
It had taken a little less than two minutes for Mac and the Marcy to arrive at the lake. By then, the darkness began to set and she could feel the coolness coming off of the water. "Look, Peter. . . he needs help Marcy. . . we can get him help." She'd remained silent, but now it was time to try again. "Let us help him."
Marcy lifted the rifle up and clocked Mac on the face, the force sending the Marine to the ground. "You can't buy us, princess. . .So just lay there and shut up."
Mac rubbed her cheek where the but of the rifle had hit. Thankfully, the force wasn't that strong, thankfully she was still conscious. "Marcy, please. . .Just listen to me. . .No money is worth taking a life . . .No matter what Temir has told you. . .Nothing is worth that." Thunder echoed in the distance as the drops of rain began to fall around them. She noticed that Marcy seemed to be thinking over her words. Or, at least she hoped that she'd gotten to the woman, though that wasn't her most impassioned plea. "Please, set me free, get Pete to let Harm go."
"You know? That's enough out of you." The words were falling on deaf ears. Further more, those deaf ears saw nothing but money and their mission was clear: bring the Commander to Temir and kill anyone else that was with him. "You need to shut up." She clocked Mac over the head, this time managing to slightly incapacitate the Colonel. It was enough for Marcy to drag the woman into the lake without a struggle. She grabbed Mac by her hair and shoved her head into the cold water.
Mac was semi-conscious as Marcy dragged her into the lake. But the moment the cold liquid penetrated her clothing, she snapped back to life. Unfortunately for her, the first breath she took was when her head was partially under water. Though she was trying not to fight the need to gasp for air, her brain was relaying a different type of information. Thankfully, as she was about to take in a gulp of water, her head was pulled up. She took in several deep breaths, coughing up the water she'd previously inhaled. "Please. . . don't . . . do this." She coughed out, which was probably the worst thing she could do.
Harm kept struggling against his restraints, each time only managing to cause more pain on himself. His fingers were now just mere centimeters away from the knife, but he still couldn't seem to reach it. Pete stepped out of the shack, his bloody clothes changed for cleaner ones. He smiled at Harm. "I'll see you in fifteen minutes. . . shouldn't take more than that."
Helplessly he watched as Pete headed into the trees. "No! Please!" But he knew that any protests would fall on uncaring ears. His mind played in vivid detail what he knew the mountain mad was going to do to Mac. His Mac. His Marine. He had to stop it, even if it meant destroying his arm to do it. He took and held a breath, then reached downwards again, this time managing to grab the knife as his arm nearly ripped from its socket. "Yes!" Quickly, he worked on the ropes, slicing the one that ran from his neck down, and effectively loosening the knots. With the force of a caged animal, he sprinted after Pete. "You're not going to touch her!" He yelled, then slammed his body into the man. The knife fell to the ground, sliding a few feet from the two as they wrestled for control.
"You like this don't you?" The woman dunked Mac's head into the lake, holding the Marine's head underwater, the struggling was now becoming less fitful. Then, she raised Mac back up by the hair and grinned malevolently. "You have to stop resisting, princess."
With what little strength she had left, Mac coughed up the water. It was already burning her throat and lungs. "I'm a Marine. . . you can torture me all . . you want, but I am not going . . to concede . . to anything you plan . . . to do to me."
"You talk to much. . . Now breathe in." Marcy didn't even afford Mac the time to take a breath. Her hand firmly held the Marine under the water. "Stop struggling, you are only making it worse." And it had gotten worse. This time the Marine seemed to have summoned some strength. Mac tried tackling the woman, but missed and ended up falling at the bank of the lake. "You'll pay for that." Marcy belted Mac over the head with the butt of the shot gun, rendering the Marine completely unconscious. As she was about to leave and see what had taken Pete so long, she'd heard what appeared to be men fighting in the woods. If neither of them played by the rules, she wasn't going to either. "Have a good swim." Marcy cooed, after placing the Marine's unconscious body, face first into the cold lake.
Harm was on top of Pete, holding the knife just an inch away from his heart. The fight had taken all of his strength, but he was using whatever he had in reserve. "Die. . ." He grunted, trying to find the force needed to stab the man. But, Pete was stronger than him and managed to move the knife away from him, turning it towards Harm. It was then that Marcy ran up to them and that moment of surprise was what he needed. The knife came down on Pete, slamming into his gut.
"You son of a bitch! Marcy took aim at Harm and pulled the trigger.
Nothing. For some reason, the shotgun was empty. Harm stood up quickly, swaying slightly. The equilibrium came to him slowly, maybe a bit too slowly, because a moment later, he was laying flat on his back with his pistol pointed at him. With his legs he swept at Marcy's feet, sending her to the ground. He was stronger, though not by much as the exhaustion from all of this ordeal was starting to become too much to bare. "Don't make. . .me . . kill you." He said through gritted teeth as they wrestled for the gun. One shot went off, sailing through the air and hitting a tree.
Marcy chuckled. "You should give up. . .Commander. . .Maybe. . . then you . . .could save her."
Harm was tempted to take the bait, but he knew better. First he had to get the weapon. Another shot went off between them and he felt just as he did when he'd fought with Alex Hendricks in the woods of Virginia. He closed his eyes, hoping to God the bullet didn't pierce him and was surprised to see that it hadn't. Moving himself off of Marcy, he took the gun and aimed it at the woman. The bullet and gone through her chest, but she was still alive. It was then that he realized Mac was no where to be found. "Where's Mac?"
Blood dripped out of Marcy's mouth as she made to speak. Her words came out in gurgles. "Drowned. . .Dead."
That's when he felt it. The pang in his heart so overwhelmingly frightening. Mac was hurt. . .no, worse, she was dying. Something, he couldn't tell you what it was, led him towards her; his legs threatened to give way as he ran to the lake. From the bank, he saw Mac's body floating middle and without hesitation he dove right in. The water was cold due to mountain run off. It felt like pins and needles all over his body, still he kicked hard, moving stroke after stroke until he reached her. "Mac? . . .Oh God." She was floating with her head in the water. Quickly, he turned her over and made for the bank. The repeated flashes of lightening allowed him to see her features clearly. It was raining now harder than it had been. Her face was ashen, lips appeared to be blue. He searched for a pulse, but found non and immediately panic set in. "No! This can't be happening!" Harm's hands found the section just under her breastbone and began starting compressions. After pressing down on her chest five times, he pinched her nose and breathed into her mouth.
As he administered CPR, he couldn't help the tears that were burning in his eyes. This couldn't be happening. He breathed into her again, to no avail. As the rain poured down, a million thoughts were going through his head. He recalled a similar situation on the Watertown when a deranged corpsman had choked Mac. He'd gotten her to breathe then, why wasn't it working now? "Please, Sarah. . . PLEASE breathe!" He knew the answer: time. Back on the Watertown he'd gotten to her seconds after it happened. At this time, he didn't know how long she'd been floating in the water.
Minutes passed by, but they felt like hours. Long, agonizing, painful hours where his efforts seemed to be all for naught. The rain pounded down hard on them, each drop feeling like a pinprick. Still, Harm continued breathing life into Mac, refusing to give up. "Damnit, you're stronger than this. . .LIVE Damnit! Live!" As he started compressions again, an overwhelming feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. She wasn't going to make it.
"Mac please. . .I need you." He breathed into her again, then began the compressions all over. "Damnit, I love you too much to lose you. . . Please breathe!" Hot tears washed down his cheeks and over her still beautiful face.
Each compression, each breath was leeching energy out of his body; energy that was already in such short supply. He was wet, cold and battered by the wind and rain making the temptation to stop difficult to ignore. But he wouldn't quit, unless he passed out from exertion. By now, the tears had become full out sobs that wracked his body, shaking him with a vengeance. Harm had never cried so hard in his life. His mind was spinning, a zillion images played like some B rate movie in his mind with a grainy quality that distorted the pictures. Love, loss, love, loss; it was the endless cycle and now, it appeared that time had finally stopped. It was over. They were over.
He ran his hand gently down her face, gasping as how cold her body was. Is this what their relationship had come to? Was this his punishment for all the times he'd hurt her? As he cried over her still body he couldn't help but think back to Christmas and the realization that they would stop their push and pull. He wanted to tell her then the feelings he'd had deep inside, but he decided to wait until the New Year. A brand new year and they would start off with a brand new relationship, one where, they were hopefully honest about their feelings. No more games, no more running away.
His fingers touched her lips, those which he'd long to kiss passionately only to have them return that kiss. Her eyes were closed and for a brief moment a flash to Diane laying dead on a gurney at Norfolk flashed through his mind. He'd long since stopped thinking of her. He'd definitely stopped comparing Diane to Mac because there were no comparisons. Harm had locked his heart away from the Marine, keeping it away from where it would get broken because he couldn't fear losing someone he cared for again. Still, for all of efforts, he'd lost her several times: Brumby, Webb, Dalton, the Guadalcanal, Paraguay, Corpsman Hodge. But, there was one thing, one key thing that came into his mind at that very moment, every time she was lost, she ended up coming to him. "I am not going to quit. . .neither are you MacKenzie." With grim determination, he started compressions again. ". . . SNAP TO MARINE!" He repeated the cycle once, twice, three times and on to the fourth, ignoring the numbness of his fingers. "Live!"
A lightening bolt illuminated the skies and it was then that Mac took a breath on her own. Water bubbled through her airwaves and out of her mouth. Quickly, Harm turned her to the side, patting her back to help her vomit the water. "That's it, Mac. . . At a girl!" He lay her flat on her back and made sure she was okay. Mac was breathing, and that was great news, but then came a surreal series of shivers. They would get no reprieve tonight. "Hypothermia. . . This is not good." His own body was shivering from the cold, but not like Mac's. He tried, unsuccessfully to get her talking; a new plan was needed. The shack was a viable idea, it would at least get them out of the rain, but there was nothing in there he could use to warm her up. Plus that putrid smell of rot was likely to cause both of them to be sick. But, that seemed to be the only option; it would have to do. "Body heat." He said out loud. Harm mustered whatever strength he had left into picking Mac off the ground. He held her tightly in his arms as he tried to get his bearings as to where the shack was located. A second later, it was almost as if God had answered his prayers. Another bolt of lightening illuminated the area and through the sheets of rain he could make out what appeared to be a cabin not too far away. "Thank God!"
Harm held Mac tightly to him, as he attempted to sprint across to the cabin. As he was getting closer, he felt his knee about to give out. Still, he pushed on, determined to not let Mac slip close to death again. It was becoming difficult holding her shivering body; his numbed fingers making the task that more tedious. Finally, in a mad dash, he raced up the steps to the cabin and kicked the door open. Stepping in, he was lucky to find the place empty with the fireplace lit, the flames casting a warm glow in the small cabin. He kicked the door closed and headed straight for the sofa which was situated near the fireplace.
After laying Mac's body on the sofa, he set off trying to find some blanket he could use to warm her body. Rummaging through a small closet, he found three, large wool blankets. One of the blankets he set on the floor, over a bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. He threw in two fresh logs, then headed over to Mac. He removed her jacket, tossing it on the floor. Without hesitation, his fingers rapidly undid the buttons of her flannel shirt, which soon joined her jacket on the floor. Harm studied the cut on her chest, noting that it wasn't deep nor cause to really worry. Removing her boots and socks were not a problem, but he literally had to coax the wet denim off her body. After several unsuccessful attempts, Mac lay before him in Marine issued bra and underwear.
Harm took a deep breath and reached his hands behind her back, unclasping the bra. He pulled her body close to his as he draped one of the blankets over Mac. By then, his body was shivering harder, either from the cold or shock; he wasn't quite sure which. "Mac. . . you have to wake up. . .stay awake, sweetheart." His fingers pressed up against her throat, finding a pulse that was starting to weaken. "No. . .You can't do this to me." He guided her body to the ground, laying her on the blanket he'd placed on the floor near the fireplace. Reaching under the blankets, he ran his hands up her legs to her hips. His fingers tucked into the elastic of her underwear, which he pulled off and tossed with the rest of her wet clothing.
Though his body was cold, he knew his temperature hadn't dropped as low as hers. If they'd lay together under the blankets, maybe he'd be able to generate enough body heat to warm Mac and himself back up. Without a moment's hesitation, he unceremoniously peeled off all of his own clothing, tossing them along with Mac's wet clothes.
Completely naked, he settled himself under the blanket with Mac, making sure that her body was closer to the fireplace than his own; he needed all of the help that he could get. His arms came around her, pulling her body closer to his. Harm tried friction, running his hands up and down her figure as fast as he could to generate heat. "C'mon Mac, stay with me." Her eyes kept opening, but they couldn't hold any type of focus. A moment later, they would close again until he coaxed her to wake up.
In all her life, never had Mac's body felt so strange. She had this deep need for sleep, but something kept waking her. Her bones felt frozen, so much that she was nearly certain they would break from any small show of force. There was someone talking, but Mac couldn't quite make out the words. Where was she anyway? Why was she so uncomfortable? As another hard shiver coursed through her body, she found herself seeking a warmth that she couldn't quite find.
Harm was fighting his own body's demand for rest. He was so tired; feeling as if he'd run a marathon with no end in sight. The muscles in his arms were hurting from trying to create some sort of warmth. He gave up when the muscles started locking up and instead reached down and captured her hands in his. He breathed into their joined palms, warming their hands. "Mac. . .hang in there, I am not going to lose you. . . Just hang in there." Even as he was using words of encouragement, his own body betrayed him. He felt himself falling into a sleep that he couldn't stop. His body was taking control and there was nothing he could to do stop it.
-
Foxy – Tests are baaaad. Tests no good! Yep yep! Body heat is a good thing! And if Mac doesn't want it, I'm there like a bear:D
LtJGMeg – Them aliens must have gotten to my laptop too. :P Is it time to bring out the lazer guns? You are too wound up with Webb. You need to get off of the hating Webb kick. Wait! What am I saying. . .HATE WEBB! Bastard screwed our S9 shipper dreams! ;P
Joanoa – Yea, I had a lot of people hoping. LOL! Me too, I was like "woah that is mean" when I was done. ;) Not to worry, you'll get what you want in chappie 7
NK – Would make a KICK ASS story to stick Harm and Mac in Wisteria lane in some mission. I am just not sure I can write it. But if anyone reading this wants to hook up and put it down, lemme know:D Mike getting shot sucks! I would crack up if DJE or CB wound up on Wisteria Lane. There are a lot of former JAG people in DH. Heheh
Xblue – I shall never "what up" Calix again. :bows: Calix, sir, how art thou? ;) As for Blue, any new stories! Hmmm! I cant write alone! My wrists hurt!
Cristina – Yea, Porter is a smart Chic, I take it that Clayton took from his dad's side of the family or something. :P He's sucha dork! No more truth or dare for now, but one never knows what I have up my sleeve. ;)
JTB – The weasel is a doooooooork. Maybe he was adopted? Hey Webbies, there's a story for you to write about – Webb is adopted and Mac helps him find the truth… God, help me, I just suggested to write about Webb and Mac. Okay, people. . .by:walks to the corner and bangs her head: Baaaaad Jackie. . .Baaaaaaaad Jackie!
DansingWolf – They'll have more interaction. Really good one too. ;) Some of the biblical kind even. ;)
Froggy – Streaking Harm! WHERE! WHERE? Oh, the story! Don't do that :P You got me going. But, yeaaaaaaaa. Ooooh Streaking Harm. :drools:
Harmfan – I think Porter has taste, but I don't think she'd ever have accepted Mac for Webb. I think one mention of her past and Porter would have done something to sabotage the relationship. Why oh why didn't THAT scenario happen in early season 9!
