A/N: I'm so sorry for having a few really crappy chapters. My apologies go out to you all. I promise it'll get better; I'm just suffering from acute writer's block. No big.
Special thanks to: joanoa, GuitarVixen, Bite Beccy, alix33, starryeyes10, SpaceMan546, Wendy Kaye, froggy0139, Jackia, Tina Frank, Lyssa Grace, snosamie6, cbw, Nesabj, Arian04, and anyone else who reviewed!!!
Table it
I can feel it. I know something's wrong. I don't know how, I don't know why. I just do.
Mac entered the room. I'm still looking at my feet. I know what I said was wrong. It was way over the line. But I was just so goddam mad. How could she fall for another Webb? Especially with me right here.
I mean, she fell for Webb when she was in Paraguay, and I wasn't there. And she only really got won over by Brumby when I went back to fly. Of course, there was that whole Sydney Harbor incident . . . best not review the thousand regrets there.
"Harm . . ."
I cock my head up. What did I hear in Mac's voice? Fear? Maybe . . . but my Marine isn't scared easily. And . . . she's speaking to me? I wasn't expecting that one.
"What?" I ask and I come by her side, into the room, and I can feel my jaw just drop open. Honestly, you could have flown an F-14 in the space my mouth was currently harboring.
"What the hell?" I whisper. It's the only thing to say. The only thing that seems appropriate, anyway.
Go to hell. That's what's written on the wall of our hotel room. Go to hell. And it's written in blood.
It's like my brain's frozen in mid-motion. Luckily, Mac's isn't. She instantly goes into her purse and retrieves her cell phone, which she quickly whips out and begins dialing a number.
She places it to her ear and I can hear the distinct sound of ringing.
"Who're you calling?" I ask, turning my head towards her.
"Riley," she replied calmly. That brought me out of my little fantasy realm and right back down to earth.
I turn away, almost disgusted. So that's who she goes to for help now. I would have almost preferred Webb. At least now I know that he's not a threat anymore. Get rid of one agent and he's replace by another. They just keep on coming.
"Yes, it's me. You were right . . . in our room . . . five minutes? We'll be waiting." She hangs up and then places her cell phone back in her purse. I still can't even look at her. The thought that she and Riley . . . it's killing me.
"Come on," she whispers, closing the door. "Let's go wait in the lobby."
"Whoopee," I reply sarcastically.
She whips around. "What is your problem, anyway?" she snaps. "Besides the obvious ones."
"Nothing, Mac," I replied, pushing the elevator button rather forcefully, so hard it hurt. "I'm just dandy."
There's no conversation on the elevator. We've seemed to come up with the mutual agreement that we're not speaking to each other. Which suits me just fine. But then . . .
"Seriously, Harm," Mac suddenly snaps. We're sitting on a couch in the lobby. If they had two couches, we'd be on separate ones. But they don't, so we content ourselves with sitting on the two opposite ends, about as far as way as we can possibly get. "Why are you so mad at me? We didn't exactly leave JAG as enemies."
So think, Mac. Who's entered our lives since JAG this morning? Hmm . . .
"Forget it," I say as way of reply. Mac's turned to look at me but I'm still not ready to meet her eyes. Let her suffer.
She opens her mouth to say something else, but both our heads turn simultaneously as the hotel door swings open to reveal none other than Agent Bite-Me.
"We'll table this conversation," she whispered as Riley saw us and turned to walk in our direction.
"Why not?" I shoot back. "We table everything else."
Riley did a check of our hotel room. He had brought a few of his little friends with him. More agents, forensic experts, etc. And in less than three minutes, our little room was filled with various forms of spooks. Of course, they weren't nearly as spooky as Webb, for that I have to thank God, but they all moved around robotically and didn't say a word. It was unnerving, to say the least.
And Harm didn't help any. Not that I expected him to or anything. He didn't say a thing as he watched the blood being removed from the wall after pictures had been taken of it from several different positions. Not that he was saying anything to me before this all happened. And of course they took samples of the blood, etc. All in all, it took two and a half hours. Thankfully, Harm and I didn't have to stick around that long.
"Well, Colonel, Commander, I suspect we will be done here shortly. Give us an hour or so," said Dr. Matlock, the only other agent other than Riley who seemed to actually have a mouth and knew how to work it. "Agent Riley says that if you wish, you may ask for another room."
"Yeah, I think we'll do that," I said, nodding reassuringly, but it's probably only to myself. Harm has set his mind to not looking at me since the moment we entered the room, and Dr. Matlock, well, he's a spook, you can't expect that much.
I turn around and then realize that I'm leaving someone behind. "Harm, are you coming?"
He turns and for the first time in about an hour and a half, our eyes connect. And I can feel, as always, myself just totally being sucked into his mind. What's that in his eyes? Possibly hurt? And then a horrible thought comes to my head. Could I have caused that?
"Yeah," he mumbles and follows me over to the elevator. This is not my partner, however much it looks like him. My partner's an arrogant, proud, reckless, kind, sensitive, loveable . . . I did not just think that.
I think back the conversation we had just before Riley and his gang infiltrated our room. Why not? We table everything else.
Of course, I knew what he was talking about. We tabled it in Paraguay, and we're tabling it now. But we also squared the conversation in Paraguay. I mean, I told him that we would never work out because we both want to be on top. God, what completely stupid words . . .
And then a thought struck me like a bolt of lightning sent down from All-Mighty himself. Is that what he thinks I'm going to say this time?
"Hi," Harm starts off when we're at the counter, jolting me out of my senses. "Could we please have a new room?"
"Yes," replied the service lady, no questions asked. I'm pretty sure the hotel already knows what happened. "Two rooms or one?"
There's one hesitant moment between the two of us, even if no one but Harm and me notice it. Our eyes meet and don't break contact. I raise an eyebrow as if to ask him if he still wants to share . . . and his eyes send back volumes of information . . . if only it wasn't in Harm Code.
"One," he answers for the both of us. And then he turns to me, "if that's all right with you."
"Yeah," I replied quickly, and then kind of slow my speech so it doesn't look like I'm too eager. "That's fine."
But we are going to have this conversation, Harm. We are.