A/N: Hey, all, lo and behold the next chapter! Yes, all hail the beautiful existence of summer vacation. Wow, um, I have not much to add in my author's not so . . .
Thanks to all my reviewers: Bite Beccy, Bail's Other Daughter, Steelo, Starryeyes10, Kitty X, martini1988, QueenOfAces, froggy0319, alix33, mjag, moonlight, nursejay80, AnMaDeRoNi, snugglebug, jaggurl, Anne, ficchic, dansingwolf, Radiorox, cbw, wishwaters, Rocket Rain, sgcgirl52, tlk29, JJScottishGirl, Blueangel, aj, French-navy girl, Marge, Jane, Tina Frank, highplainswoman, mac AND harm fan, Ali Baba, super ducky, tumblebuttons, AB, Abigiale, macandharmlover, jazzy, vhosek malacath, your fan (or is it my fan?), Britainy, MartiniMac, HighHeel Shoe Lover, Sirus 745, Fan, Pissed off Poet 1, southernqt, BrittanyLS, sugar230, K, Ilovemyselftoday, eggy weg, xobabygurlxo, Reni-Maniac, Cille, ForensicsFreak1988, HMtogether4ever, MaritzaCarmichael, Lara783, janessab, and tizy! If I left anyone out – please let me know!
Note: this chapter starts of in Harm's POV
The Irony of the Heart
Tap. Tap.
I look down at the sound of my own pen, smacking softly against my notepad of paper. The rhythm does nothing for me. My eyebrows furrow in intense thought. What's she doing right now? What's she thinking right now? I sigh as I lean back in my chair. Clay's right. I'm hopelessly lost. Too far gone to be revived. But in speaking of Clay . . .
I chuckled to myself. I'd gone into Clay's room to see if I could borrow a clean t-shirt, realized he was not there, went into Vera's room to ask where he was and then I'd seen them, their bodies entangled with each other, buried in the blankets, and sleeping long and peacefully. Jake and I got a real kick out of it.
Tap. Tap.
Vera and Clay had left for the office close to two hours ago, leaving Jake behind to watch me. Vera was taking no chances since the little Padua incident. They had woke up quickly, eaten on the go, and not stopped bickering the entire time. And now me and my keeper Jake sat in the living room, the game of Scategories laid out on the table in front of us, and me looking for a musician beginning with the letter 'M'.
Tap. Tap.
"Harm, you're driving me nuts!" Jake hissed, his pen momentarily pausing on his paper.
Buzzzzzzzzzz
Both Jake and I drop our pens at the same time and pick up our notepads. The way the came of Scategories works is they give you a little quiz sheet with things like 'name of food' or 'name of something in this room' and you have a large lettered dice that you role. Whatever letter lands face up is the letter your words have to begin with. And as soon as the buzzer goes off, you're out of time. The catch – you can't use the same word as your opponent did otherwise you don't get points. Each word you come up with you're given a point – and if you have two words beginning with the chosen letter you get two points. This is what we do to pass our time. Sad, I know.
"Name of a band beginning with 'M'," I said, checking my list. "I've got the monkeys." He shakes his head signaling he doesn't have it. I give myself a point. "Okay, what do you have?"
"The Muskrats."
"I've never heard of the Muskrats," I told him, staring at him through disbelieving eyes.
"They're a band," Jake argued immediately. "I can prove it."
"Oh yeah, let's see," I challenge.
Jake walks into my room where his bags are being temporarily kept and digs through his luggage before he finds what he's looking for. Picking up a rather thick leather bound book he walks back to me and flips through the first thirty pages or so before settling on one. "Here, you go. The Muskrats."
I look at the rather small black and white photograph with one eyebrow cocked up to the air. "The members couldn't be more than teenagers. Fourteen or something."
"Fifteen, actually," Jake corrected, smiling at the picture. "They were my band."
"Your band?"
"Yeah, see there I am in the center," Jake pointed, frowning at me slightly.
"The one with the long hair?" I grinned.
"Hey, it was cool back then."
"So what were you?" I asked, taking in the long wiry teenager with wild hair and a reckless smile. "Their manager or something?"
Jake looked highly affronted. "Manager? You kidding? I was the lead vocal."
I laugh my head off. "You sing?"
Jake shrugs, "back in the day, yeah." I'm still laughing. "Oh come on," Jake persists. "Everyone had a band back then." He inspects me closely. "Didn't you?"
My laughter stops and I shrug kind of nonchalantly. "Never had the time."
Jake opens his mouth to ask something but I quickly move on. "Something pretty." I kind of grin at my answer. "My answer is . . ."
"Mac," Jake responds immediately.
"Yeah," I replied, staring at him. "How'd you know?"
"No," Jake argued. "I mean, Mac's my answer."
All I can do is blink. "No, she's mine."
"Hey, anyone can use the name," Jake argued. "We just happened to get the same one, okay?"
"But how could you pick Mac?" I argued.
Jake's eyebrow rose. "Take it as a compliment. I think your girl's hot."
"She's not my girl," I whispered vehemently.
"Then what are you getting so uptight for?" Jake smoothes his hand over his length bangs. "Fine, you know what, I change my answer."
"What do you change it to?"
He winks at me. "For two points – I change it to Ms. Mackenzie. Double Ms."
"You can't do that!" I explode.
"Why not?" Jake grins. "I'm letting you have Mac . . . that's what you want, isn't it?"
"No!"
Jake looked at me incredulously. "No?"
"I mean," I'm suddenly very confused. "I mean, yes, I do . . ."
"Then I get Ms. Mackenzie," Jake retaliates.
"Jake, I swear if –"
The front door swings open and Vera and Clay rush in, screaming louder than Jake and I are.
"This is a stupid idea, Vera!" Clay hollers. "It's going to blow up right in front of our faces!"
"No, Clay," Vera counters just as loudly. "This is a goddamn brilliant idea. The only thing that's stupid around her is you!"
"You don't know Rabb!" Clay screams back – and right in front of my face too. "He has no bloody self-restraint. He'll get us all killed!"
I'm morally offended.
"Harm might have self-restraint the size of a teaspoon," Vera continued, not bothering to keep her voice low. "But he has something you don't have – a bit of common sense. He understands the consequences of his actions and he'll damn well keep to himself until we've got Abbas behind bars."
"Vera, reality check!" Clay actually seizes Vera's shoulders and pulls her in front of him. "We have no leads on Abbas. None. Zilch. Nessuno. Rien. Nothing!"
Vera was quiet for once, her angry auburn hair standing out strongly against her tanned skin. "Clay, what can I do to get you trust me?" she whispered, heat heavy in her voice. "To trust us?"
0731
Mac's Apartment
Mac's POV
My eyes open. I'm staring at my ceiling. I let out a long deep sigh and place my hand to my forehead. I don't have a fever. I place another hand to my stomach, it's stopped turning. I smile in relief. Slowly, I get up from my bed and put on the robe hanging on the bathroom door and then stop in confusion. My mind whirls back to last night. The last thing I remember seeing was Samantha turn a cat into a supermodel for Darin's advertising campaign. In other words: I was sprawled out on the couch as sick as a dog my eyes glued to the DejaView channel. How did I get here?"
I put my slippers on and exit my bedroom, entering my living room. I pause as I reach the couch. The TV's turned off. My brow furrows in confusion. I can't remember ever turning it off. I touch my hand to my head again. I can't remember having a headache last night either. I tap into my built in clock and something inside me freezes. I suck in a deep breath. What's the time? My brain searches frantically, and the answer comes back slowly – sadly. I don't know.
Coffee, I need coffee! I run as fast as a marine clad in a bathrobe and fuzzy slippers can into the kitchen. I press the coffee button and wait for it to brew, slapping my hand anxiously against the countertop. How come it's taking so long?
Something's seriously wrong with me. I'm jumping, I feel jittery. I don't know what time it is. I close my eyes shut. There's a small time clock on my stove. I can't look. I should know. I bite my lower lip as I futilely search my mind for the time. I should know this! I cry in desperation. And slowly, painstakingly, I crack one eye open and read the time off the stove. 0734. My whole body just seems to give in. I should have known.
I literally run into my room. I need a shower. I get the water running and wait until it is freezing cold. There's nothing like bathing in liquid ice to get the body functioning in the morning. I soak myself in it, breathing hard and making sure every square inch of my body is subjected to the numbing temperature. Ten minutes later I stumble out, drying myself quickly and hopping into my Marine greens. My hair is wet but I'm letting it air dry – hopefully that'll keep me alert.
I reenter the kitchen to see the coffee's ready. This coaxes a sigh of relief from me. I pull the biggest mug I have out of the cupboard and pour myself coffee up to the rim, savoring the bitter black taste of it. This is more like it. I caught a little Venetian flue, but I'm fine now. It'll just take another day or two to get me fully back on schedule, but I'm fine.
I take another long swig of coffee, my tongue running over the taste of it. There's something different about this coffee. It tastes more . . . my head spins. I've just been sick, perhaps my stomach's not read to take my strong Marine java. A wild sickly sort of grin spreads across my face. All I can do is down the coffee, mug by mug.
A little voice at the back of my mind informs me that I shouldn't be drinking this much coffee. What cup am I on? My third . . . or forth? It all seems kind of fuzzy at the moment. I take another long sip. God, I haven't felt this good since I was on alcohol. I down another mug. And then my swiveling eyes narrow in on the stove. Oh my god, it's already 0815. I'm going to be late. I giggle at the thought.
Grabbing my briefcase I just about run out the door before realizing I still have my fuzzy slippers on. I run back into my apartment, put on my shoes, I'm just about out the door when my briefcase spills open and all my files come falling out. I dive to the floor, scoop up all the papers, stuff them back inside my briefcase, lock my door, jump into my corvette and drive at a reckless speed towards JAG.
By the time I pull into the parking lot I don't need my built in clock to know that I'm very late. I walk into the bullpen and Tiner's immediately there to greet me. "Ma'am, they're all in the conference room. Here, I'll take your briefcase to your office."
I cling to my briefcase as Tiner's hand moves to take it from me.
"Do you think that I am not capable of carrying my own damn briefcase?" I practically holler at the stunned yeoman. I'm swaying on the spot. My head's spinning.
"No, ma'am," Tiner stutters. We've got the attention of the entire bullpen. "I was just offering –"
"Do you think I'm not strong enough to carry my briefcase?" I am shouting now. I look at Tiner through blurry vision. He's suddenly seemed to split in two.
"That's not it at all, ma'am," Tiner backtracks. Everyone's staring at us, but they all seem to be blurry swirling colors in my vision.
"You listen to me, Petty Officer," I order, my voice hard, "never undermine the initiative of a female marine."
"No, ma'am," Tiner immediately spurts out. "I wasn't undermining . . ."
"Never talk back to a superior!" I shout and I swear Tiner jumps. He must be sweating in his socks right now and for some strange reason that gives me an almost drunken pleasure.
"No, ma'am." Tiner's given up on explaining the situation to me.
I leave him like that, standing stiff and to attention right in the middle of the bullpen. I storm into my office, throw down my briefcase onto my desk sending paperwork flying everywhere and march haughtily to the conference room leaving the bullpen deathly quiet. I throw open the door and almost robotically three heads swivel to meet my gaze. The admiral looks at me rather annoyed. "You're late, Colonel."
"I'm not late," I spit out, slumping down into one of the conference chairs. "You're just all early."
Even I have no idea what I meant by that. The colors around me are spinning. My head feels like it's just about to fall off.
"Watch your tongue, Colonel," the Admiral's voice is simply flat and deadening. For a reason unbeknownst to me I begin to giggle. I'm squirming in my chair and absolutely cackling.
Bud looks at me rather uncertainly. "Ma'am, are you sure you're all right?"
I shoot Bud a wild grin. "What?" I replied, letting my hands roll down my body, "this doesn't look right to you?"
All three men are absolutely speechless. They sit for a moment, like the big dumb males they are – I'm still giggling by the way – before Sturgis pipes up, "Sir, I don't think Colonel Mackenzie's well. I'll go . . . take her home."
"Oh, you'd just love to do that, wouldn't you Commander?" I lay an arm around his shoulder and bat my eyelashes at him. Sturgis looks mortified.
"Colonel, that will be quite enough!" The Admiral seems to have found his voice again, and now he doesn't look stunned but just plain angry.
My head's hammering. I flash him a twisted sort of grin. "You don't like the idea of me being with another man?"
The Admiral's eyes bulge. My head feels like it's about to explode. I close my eyes for a moment – everything swirling.
"Colonel?" Bud's soft voice cuts through to me. "Are you all right, Ma'am?" his voice is suddenly hollow, Darth Vader like. "Ma'am?" One hand comes up to my head. I feel my eyes rolling. "Ma'am?"
And I fall, just like that, I collapse. My head hits the floor hard just as my body follows its lead. And I lay there, my head pounding and my vision so utterly distorted I can barely make out Bud leaning over me.
"Call for an ambulance!" he screams. "Someone call for an ambulance!"
A/N: Yes, I know what you're all thinking – how evil am I to cut the chapter off there? lol, keep in mind author's privilege includes cliffhangers at the ends of chapters. And yes, something is going on with Mac. You'll all find out in the next chapter. So – um, if you liked this chapter – review! And if you didn't – tell me why.
Abigaile: Ahh, you guessed my plot line! I didn't think anyone would get it! Oh, you're too good, much too good . . . oh, except for the guy in Mac's apartment. That was most definitely not Harm. Thanx for reviewing (and shh, don't tell anyone what's happening . . .) lol, though if they're smart they'll check out your review.
Reni-Maniac: See, on the inside of the Admiral's outer hard-core shell I'm sure there's some sort of child-loving side in him . . . deep down . . . very deep down. Hope I updated fast enough for you!
Tumblebuttons: thanks – but could we lay off the profanity? (one of my friends, people)
Starryeyes10: thank you
Froggy0319: Hope I updated quick enough for you! I know you'll have questions about this chapter. Hopefully I'll be able to answer them in the next one.
Xobabygurlxo: Thanks – I know, I can't wait until they're together either.
MaritzaCarmichael: thank you, I'll keep going just for you
Jaggurl: yeah, all hail wishful thinking! lol, yeah this chapter wasn't longer – actually, it was probably shorter. But I'll get the next chapter done really quick for you, how's that?
Dansingwolf: Hey, I think you should start writing your own fic – you obviously know a lot about JAG. Well, I love giving surprising endings to chapters. I'm constantly surprised by how many people are able to guess my plots from like way into the beginning! Like, you've always been one of them (this is a compliment, by the way). I can never guess anyone else's plot (how do you do it?). lol, if you have any suggestions about anything – let me know, okay?
Sugar230: Are you still dying of curiosity? lol, what will the next chapter bring, I wonder . . .
Sothernqt: wow, your coach sounds interesting. Actually, he kinda sounds like mine! My coach would be very liable to say that. And believe me, the more complicated the pranks are, the better . . . lol, thanks for reviewing!
Janessab: thank you, hope you liked this chapter!
Vhosek malacath: No, begging isn't needed for a quick chapter – (it helps though). Just joking . . . but I hope this was quick enough updating for you!
Radiorox: ah, yes, men on bikes . . . exist only for females to swoon. lol. Thanks for all the prank ideas – believe me, I will make a wonderful use out of them. There wasn't too much Vera/Clay in this chapter, making up for all the Harm/Mac I missed last chap. Though I bet my reviewers are already getting out their verbal pitchforks for my lack or romance . . .
Bite Beccy: ha ha, you're not jumping to any conclusions. You're right – I kind of made it obvious (you're not the only one that's guessed it). Bear with me, I'll get more HM in the chapters to come.
Tizy: Hey, believe me, I'd just LOVE to finish this entire story right now but . . . you know . . . I recall my father telling me when I was little that patience was a virtue (but does anyone actually believe that?) lol, I'll update faster just for you
Lara783: hmm . . . that could mean that. That is, if we're thinking the same thing . . . all I know is it's making me very happy right now. lol