AN: Heya, I want some feedback from you guys. ::gasp:: I know, I know, it's so out of character, right? Relax. I was just wondering if I should add a few bits of the rest of the JAG crew. Just a bit, like updates at home and such. I need your votes yes or no. Ok, on with the show.
The covered truck trundled along, rusty engine rumbling loudly, a few large black clouds of smoke billowing from the exhaust pipe every now and then. The driver was rough, uncaring about the 'cargo' sliding around in the back. He jerked the wheel sharply, executing a quick turn so as not to miss the road he was supposed to take.
Meanwhile, Harm and Mac got tossed around like kernels in a popcorn popper. The both grimaced when their sore bodies slammed against cold and hard metal seats. The military soldier slammed on the brakes abruptly upon their arrival, a loud THUD following soon after, as well as a couple of weary moans. No one looked back at their passengers, but Harm and Mac were tangle together again. Harm's fingers curled tight around the strap of their duffel and Mac checked for the map, but after that, they lay still, breathing softly and recuperating. Mac's head lay nestled at Harm's shoulder, her cold nose pressed against his slightly stubbly cheek. Harm chuckled, and Mac slowly opened her eyes.
"We gotta stop meeting like this," Harm said, a smile lingering on his lips briefly.
"Yeah," was about all Mac could manage at first. She caught herself getting lost in those charming blue eyes of his. She shook her head and nuzzled her nose against his cheek and neck. "Well, you need a shave Sailor." He laughed at that one.
"I bet I do, Marine. I bet I do." He sighed and sat up, grudgingly untangling himself from Mac and helping her stand when the captain –still wearing the mock smile plastered on his face— opened the door.
"We are here, mon amis." They clambered out of the truck and it rolled away not a minute later, leaving them in a cloud of dust. He returned their handguns, but not the semi-automatic to them. Mac looked around, still seeing wooded country.
"This is Lyon?"
"Turn around." They did as told and Mac's eyes widened to see the huge city spread before her.
"You two were lucky…but don't think you will be in the future should our paths cross again." They offered nods and waves to the captain and his men before slowly turning their backs to them, knowing they were still being watched.
"What do you think would happen if we took off into the woods right there?"
"I think the most they would find of us would be a finger, collectively."
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Look, we can just go into Lyon, catch a flight to Paris and be home even sooner. Hell, we could go HOME Harm!"
"Weren't we supposed to avoid Lyon?"
"Yes, we were. But YOU," she emphasized this, "had to go and say Lyon. And there is no point in going into civilization just to walk right back out again and hike through mountains to get somewhere. That's why man made the wheel, and cars, and planes…" Harm sighed as Mac ranted and raved beside him, entering Lyon and soon in the middle of a bustling metropolis. Harm waved over a taxi, paid for the fare to the nearest airport and shoved Mac inside, wordless. She wouldn't stop talking in her normal American voice no matter how much her argued or agreed with her. He closed his eyes, sighing as if he was resigning himself to some horrible fate. Harm finally silenced her with a kiss, in the same fashion as previously done so on the train. It was quick, with barely a glimpse of the real emotion he had deeply hidden.
"Shut up," he hissed, as gently as possible before giving her a stern-ish look but taking her hand in his, more as an apology than as affection, though they did need to keep up the newlywed pretense. They left the cab like that, managing to find a ticket booth without incident. Mac took over, speaking English but now with the phony German accent that the attendant didn't question. Only when they handed over the forged passports did they hit a snag.
"Un moment, s'il vous plait." (One moment, please.) the drably dressed woman said, finding a man who had that 'manager' air about him. They conversed quietly, and Mac sent anfuriousglare at Harm. He suddenly found that his shoes, the airport, the bag and his fingernails were all together safer and more interesting to look at than the fuming Marine next to him. The 'manager' returned, donning the same fake smile as the captain had before he 'let them willingly accept a ride to Lyon'. Harm groaned inwardly as he spoke.
"It seems that there is a slight problem monsieur (sir)," Mac turned her angry gaze on him and he addressed her as well, "et vous, madame." (and you, ma'am.)
"Is there something else, sir?" He had been keeping an altogether calm demeanor, the smile never faltering, but his nervously wringing hands were easy for the two JAG's to spot.
"Yes, there is unfortunately." The man seemed very jump all of the sudden, and his bulgy eyes began to dart around. Mac looked to Harm and he took over; the better of the two at calming people down.
"Well, I'm sure this can be handled quickly, we'd like to be on the five o'clock flight."
"I'm afraid you will probably miss that plane." Harm's brows furrowed, but the ever optimistic sailor was not so easily discouraged.
"Hm, that's too bad. Well, shall we get this matter settled, then?"
"I suppose we should, yes, quickly now." He muttered to himself and to a quick messenger who appeared and barely stayed more than two minutes in relaying one message and waiting for the next.
"Uh…monsieur (sir)?" Mac inquired. He looked up, seeming a bit startled frankly.
"Oui, madame (yes, ma'am), what is it?"
"Can we get on with this?" Their german accents were slowly fading, as was the manager's composed façade. It was quickly deteriorating.
"Oh, yes. Ahem, please, follow me." He then began traversing the entire airport it seemed, a time consuming and mildly tiring task. The man was downright stressed out now; fearing any sound louder than a regular voice or sudden movements toward him. Harm muttered to make as they strolled behind the man.
"This guy is really worried about something, Mac. I'm afraid of what that something is."
"Yeah. This is freaking even me out." The man led them through a maze of bustling crowds with luggage trailing behind with all the sound of airplanes taking off and landing regularly. Finally, they reached a door that read "EMPLOYEES ONLY" in French and English. They shared the sideways look before sighing and reluctantly pursuing the nervous Frenchman. He escorted them through silent halls and at last came upon a seemingly simple and unmarked door.
"Go inside and have a seat, please."
"Alright." Harm opened the door to find a blank gray room, with two solitary chairs sitting beneath the center light, all the other lights ringing the room's ceiling.
"Could you tell us what we're doing here?" Mac asked, taking a seat on the cold metal with a slight frown.
"Unfortunately, there's a bit of a … er, how do you say, problem with your passports, I'm afraid." The look between Harm and Mac was shared again. "These names came up in the computer during the processing and now he would like a word with you." With that, the man closed the door with a sharp click. Harm flopped into the chair beside Mac, groaning.
"This is why Webb didn't want us to come to Lyon. Harm, he said this would happen!" He sat up and looked at her pointedly.
"And you're the one that said what's the harm in coming?" He was somewhat annoyed with her.
"Me?" She asked, indignant. "If you hadn't told that captain we were going to Lyon—" she snapped back. This was turning into yet another magnificent yelling match.
"This is not my fault!" he bellowed, and she was about to verbally attack him once more when all the lights in the room except of the singular one dangling above them. That light intensified until they could see nothing outside the pool of light they were bathed in. The door opened and shut, footsteps tapping across the cold tile floor. Both their eyes widened as they heard a gun cock, and the barrel emerged from the shadows to stare them in the face, only half an arm coming into view as well, the rest of their captor invisible.
"Whoever you are, you caught me on a bad day."
AN: Wee! Having fun yet? Are you dying because of the cliffie? Ha! ::points and laughs:: And I haven't written the next chapter yet! Review a lot and maybe I will.