Chapter Three
By: LizD
Written November 2003
With Love and thanks to the cast, crew and creators of JAG.
0913 EST – JAG Headquarters – Falls Church, VA
Harm was in his office working through the stack of Imes cases. It wasn't much fun, but he was still paying his dues. Mac limped in.
"Harm, do you have the Andrews file?"
"Well, if it is isn't Quick Draw McKenzie."
"Harm, I need that file. I have court in an hour and I need to get it to Bud."
He pulled the file from his credenza and handed it to her. "Not even enough time to say 'Good Morning' to the man that covered your butt and nearly sacrificed his ability to procreate for you?"
"Good morning." She said gruffly and opened the file. "This is the Andrews file." She snapped and waved it at him.
"That's what you asked for, Colonel."
"Lori Andrews not Lana Andrews."
"As not to be confused with the Andrews sisters." He smiled. She tried to wipe that smile off his face with her look. His GOOD mood was really annoying to her BAD mood. He reached over to another stack on the corner of his desk. He let out a little groan at the stretch he had to make. "What's the matter Mac, Webb's snoring keep you up all night?"
"You know what Harm, I have had enough of you and your adolescent comments. From now on, my personal life is off limits to you."
"Was it ever ON LIMITS?"
"When I was stupid enough to – forget it." The quick turn on her ankle sent a shooting pain up her leg.
"HEY!" He stood up.
She paused to let the pain ease.
"If you woke up on the wrong side of the spook – don't take it out on me!"
She slumped down in the chair and leaned down to rub her ankle. He looked down and noticed that the bandage that was put on was falling off. He came over and eased himself down. She tried to brush him away but he stopped her with his hand.
"Harm, I don't need a nursemaid."
"You need a corpsman. Did you do this yourself?" He was not being very gentle.
"Yes." She said and restrained a groan as he wrapped it up tightly.
"Did you put ice on it last night?"
"I don't want to talk about last night."
"What part: before, during or after I kicked your ass in paintball?" He taunted.
She knew he was goading her to get her mind off of the real issue and the pain. She tried to get up but he kept her in the chair. "I need to get this file to Bud."
"Sit, colonel." He barked. He reached over and picked up the phone. "Bud? The Andrews file is in my office; bring some ice and a towel down here when you come to get it. - - - Yes, NOW, Lieutenant."
"I have court." She protested.
"And you are prepared. Put your foot up." He picked her leg up roughly and put in on the second chair. Bud entered with the ice and a towel. Harm exchanged them for the file and dismissed him before Bud had a chance to ask about Mac's ankle or the huge bandage on Harm's neck.
"You think if you are nice to me I will confide in you?"
"No." He made and ice pack for her ankle. "I really don't give a rats behind what happened between you and Double 'O' Fool last night."
"Right."
"I just thought you were done making the same mistakes with the same man."
"Present company included?"
"Present company never stood a chance."
"Present company never took a chance."
"But the secret agent man? Yeah, I'll bet he's a real closer." He took his position behind his desk.
She shook her head. "You have no clue what you are talking about."
"I don't?"
"It is not what you think." She tried to tell him.
"If you need to lie to yourself to make it easier to look me in the eye ----."
"The sheer arrogance - - - the conceit - - - the superiority that just drips off you is astounding."
"Astounding?"
"Has it ever occurred to you that people – a lot of people, myself included – have lives that do not revolve around you?"
He mock thought for a second. "No."
"Why does that not surprise me?"
"Look, Mac. I thought our little paintball party got us through this kind of garbage. If you don't want to let go of your issues with me – there is nothing I can do about that."
"Oh, but you are over all your issues with me."
"I am trying to talk to you about your boyfriend, aren't I?"
"Anything I say will be used it against me."
"Do you believe that I would throw THE SPY WHO LOVED YOU in your face?"
"Every chance you got."
"How can you say --?"
"Should we count how many times in the last five minutes?"
He leaned back in his chair, shook his head and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry." He paused. "You are right. I am not being a very good friend." He paused again and waited for her to look up at him. "I guess - - - I don't know. I just think you can do better." He smiled. "Consider me the older brother you never had." Of course his feelings were not motivated by 'brotherly love.'
A serious look came over her. "No." She said softly. "No, I don't think I want to do that."
He was confused. "Mac?"
"Look, it really doesn't matter."
"Actually it does matter." He said. "You are clearly upset about something, and I want to help."
"Super Rabb."
"Just trying to be a friend, Mac." He paused. "We had fun last night."
"We did."
"So whatever put you in this mood, happened after I left."
"It has nothing to do with you."
"Yet, here you are taking it out on me." He tossed his pen down on his desk. "I'll admit that I have made mistakes, but does that mean I get to be the punching bag for every bad experience you have with men from here on out?"
"You admit that you made mistakes?"
"We are not talking about me."
"Actually I thought we were."
"Now who has the problem with the world revolving around me?"
"AHHHHHHHHHH." She screamed reservedly. "YOU DRIVE ME CRAZY."
He laughed. "Feel better?"
"I'd feel better if I had you in my sights and my hopper was full."
He nodded and rubbed at one of his many bruises. "What happened last night?" He said softly. "Come on, you know you want to talk about it."
"Actually I don't."
"Webb wanted to kiss and make up?"
"Harm – let me give you a piece of advice – if you are trying to be nice - don't be such a jerk."
"Point taken." He waited. "So?"
She half relented. "It is not what you think."
"So set me straight."
"Webb and I – we are not – you know – it is not like what you think - between us – we are not -."
"Can't you even say it?"
"We are not sleeping together." She blurted out.
He nodded. "Is that the problem?" If he was delighted to hear that Mac and Webb weren't 'doing the nasty,' he didn't let on. (He was delighted to hear.)
"Part of it I suppose – for him."
"So what 'objective' were you referring to last night?"
"Do you remember everything I say?"
"Damn near."
"How sad for you."
"You got that right." He said under his breath. "So?"
She struggled looking for the right words. "He – well I – well -." She took a deep breath and blurted it out. "I told him how I felt."
"How you felt?"
She gave him a snide look. "Yeah, Clay and I talk about things like that."
"And look how well it has turned out for you two."
"Forget it, Rabb!" She started to get up.
"Sit down, colonel." He was slightly annoyed. "So, you told him how you felt. And?"
"And he misinterpreted."
"Well, I'm confused. You told him that you didn't want to be with him and he misinterpreted that as you did?"
"Not exactly."
Harm looked up. "Your honor, I would like to have this witness declared hostile."
"Stop it, Harm."
"WHAT?"
"I told him I had feelings for him and he thought they were more than they were." The part Mac is leaving out is that that declaration was coupled with a declaration that she did NOT have feelings for someone else – namely Harm. The part that Mac hadn't yet accepted was that those declarations were not exactly the truth. They were more like the truth as she wanted it to be, but wasn't.
"You are a lawyer Mac – you know how important words are especially to a spy who will twist them for his own agenda."
"Harm – please, if I needed a Monday morning quarter back I would call Howard Cosell."
"He's dead, Mac."
She dropped her face in her hands. "You are relentless."
"So that's it?"
"Look – it is that simple. I told him how I felt. He – took it the wrong way. I had to set him straight and that is the end of it."
"It didn't look like the end of it for him last night."
"Well some men just don't know when they've struck out."
"Some men never see the pitch until it's behind them."
"Some men wait for the perfect pitch and strike out anyway."
"Some men don't know they only have one inning at bat."
"Some men never bother to dress for the game."
"Some men just want one more chance to get off the bench."
"Some games are over before they start."
"There is always another game, another season ---."
"And other players." She stopped the banter.
He looked at her and swallowed hard before he spoke. "I'm sorry, Mac."
"For what: Clay, my ankle or something else?"
He looked down and away. "I am sorry for a lot of things."
"Regrets? Coming from the great Harmon Rabb?"
He stood up and picked up the files on his desk. "I'm going to be late for court." He started to walk out.
She stood too, put a little weight on her ankle and then a little more and nearly fell. He caught her arm. They were inches apart. She looked into his eyes and he into hers.
"I'm sorry, Mac." He said again his voice full of a seriousness that she was unfamiliar with. "You deserve better." He made sure that she was stable on her feet and left.
"From who – Clay or you?" She said softly to herself.
Bud came in with his cane. "Ma'am we are due in court. I thought you might need this to lean on."
Mac laughed at the irony – all these men around her and no one to lean on. Bah – she was better by herself anyway.
