1A/N: Well, again, I don't mean to over-advertize, but I think you guys will like this chapter. Um . . . it's definitely eventful.
Special thanks to: 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, 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, tizy, June, vrbinkaCZ, Cherise, DD2, Bekka, Lani-LoveNPain, Dessler, mommie, daisymh, Laura, confused, basketball babe8, Strawberry Kittens, rainydays502, S, Broesel, ady, Kristie, writingismything, TV Angel 711, TaTe.ArI.Obsessed.Writers, MiDushiNoSushi, Basketball Babe8, Alex, Angie, and Toplesslemon!
Note: This chapter starts off in Harm's POV.
The Meeting
0922
28 Belleville Drive
Harm's POV
I stare at the phone. The phone stares back. I breathe in calmly, and then exhale just as collected. I can do this. This should be no problem. In fact, I should WANT to do this. Actually, I DO want to do this. I can't wait to do this. I'm excited, I'm nervous, I'm . . . ah, what the hell - I'm scared shitless. My hand reaches out for the phone and almost immediately withdraws. I can't do this. I'm not ready to do this. This shouldn't be this hard . . .
My hand reaches out for the phone again and this time, my hand actually meets it. I release a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. I can do this. I can do this. I pick up the receiver and pause slightly as my fingers run gently over the little black buttoned numbers. I can do this. I can do this. My fingers punched the numbers quickly, as though if I go to slowly I'll chicken out. My breath catches in my throat but I ignore it, slamming the 'Call' button down. I draw the receiver to my ear, listening anxiously as the familiar 'ring . . .' repeats itself. He's not there . . . please let him not be there . . .
The ring cuts off midway. "Hello?"
My heart races. I can feel sweat collect on the palms of my hands. I'm in danger of letting the phone slip through my grasp. 'You can do this,' the optimistic side of my brain says. 'Just say something . . . anything . . . you can do this.'
"Hello?" There's a trace of annoyance in his voice, but mostly weariness. It's been a long time.
I grip the phone, opening my mouth but my lips move wordless. Hurry up and say something or he'll hang up! Words shove up my throat but get stuck at the entrance way to my mouth. My heart pounds and I have never been so aware of my own breath.
"Is anyone there?"
NOW! "Hi . . ." my throat feels swollen as I rasp out the word, "Admiral."
I fiddle with a button on my jacket while long silence fills my ears, and then – "Harm?"
I close my eyes in anxious relief. "Y-yeah."
"But . . ." there's a sound on the other end of the line that sounds like a blend of laughter and crying. I feel my shaking hand steady itself against the grip of the phone. Unidentified emotion fills my body, shaking me violently. "Harm, you're . . ."
"Yes," I breathed, grinning from ear to ear. I choke out my next words. "I'm so sorry, Admiral. I would have told you sooner. I would never have . . . I wouldn't have . . . I couldn't . . ." My words begin to fail me. "I'm so sorry."
The Admiral releases a shaky breath. "This is one for the books."
"Yes, it is, sir," I replied, the grin that had been lighting my face slowly disappearing. "Sir, I need your help . . ."
1133
McMurphy's Tavern
Clay's POV
Wiping my face with my hands I slowly tipped the beer bottle into my mouth, internally drowning myself. People who had come into the restaurant/bar for an early lunch were looking on at me in disgust. And perhaps had I been anyone else, I might have stared at myself with the same look of utter vulgarity on my face. Here I was, early in the morning, drinking myself away. It was sickening and damn well depressing.
"Dammit, Webb, do you hear me? Pull out. No more – enough. This has already gone too far."
In the back of my mind I could hear his voice repeating the words over and over again. I took another long swig of beer, putting all my effort into keeping my eyelids from drooping. I was sleepy as hell. My mind whirled back to the other night when Harm and I were playing cards, picking out people for the team. We'd shaken hands and for the first time since Paraguay, we almost seemed like . . . friends. How could I just throw him back to the sharks? Abbas would tear him to pieces.
"You throw him back into the real world and Abbas will KILL him, Kovac! He's on Rabb like a hunter to it's pray. He's WAITING for this. Waiting for the moment you'll take us off his guard. And then he'll strike, dammit."
My voice resounded in my own years, strong yet desperate. I massaged my temples with my hands, sucking on my beer at the same time. I looked like hell. My clothes were uneven and untidy from the hurried way I'd rushed into them this morning. I'd run my hands so many times through my hair in thought after my meeting with Kovac this morning it looked uncombed and flyaway. And now I was drinking heavily and it wasn't even NOON yet. I thought about Mac and the future Rabb she had growing inside of her. How many weeks 'til the kid was due? Three or something like that. Rabb's only chance at a family . . .
"Dammit, Webb, do you hear me? Pull out. No more – enough. This has already gone too far."
I slammed down my beer bottle against the counter forcefully. Harm's life was at stake here . . . maybe even Mac's. God dammit, who KNEW whose lives were at stake? This was possibly the greatest chance we'd ever have at catching Abbas and Kovac was going to let it slip through our fingers. A matter of national security . . . Abbas had ruined too many peoples lives, killed too many people. He couldn't get away. He wouldn't get away. Not this time.
"Things ALWAYS get complicated, Webb! They always WILL be complicated, and there's not a damned thing we can do about it. But we can't keep clutching to everyone and everything. It won't serve you in life. Just . . . let go, Webb. Let go."
No, dammit, I wouldn't! I felt almost depressingly exhilarated. I wouldn't – I couldn't. Too much was at stake here. We couldn't risk losing perhaps our only opportune moment to catch Abbas – and perhaps save many lives. But then again, there was that nagging question, that little snag of doubt that had firmly attached itself to the back of my mind. What about my job?
"Just do me a favor, Webb. Think about it before you make a decision."
I wiped my face with my hand, finishing the last of my beer with a long gulp and getting up and out of the bar stool. I had made a decision, an executive one. And Kovac was not going to like the answer.
1937
Mac and Jake's Apartment
Mac's POV
"Where are you going?" I asked, following Jake out of the kitchen and into the living room. Jake strode down the hallway, pulling on his jacket at the same time.
"Somewhere," he replied shortly and bluntly, turning back only for a second to catch my eye. "Look, you think you'll be okay for a couple of hours?"
"I'll be fine," I replied hotly. "But I want to know where YOU'RE going."
"Nowhere," Jake replied, annoyance clearly toned in his voice. "Look, it's work-related, okay? Now go to bed. You need some rest before you pop the little one out."
"It's not even eight!" I exclaimed in angry retaliation. "And what if I DO go into labor while you're gone?"
"Then that, my dear," Jake replied snidely, opening up the front door and walking onto the walkway, "is what cell phone are for. I promise you, I won't be far away."
"But WHERE?" I asked, stopping at the doorway as he got into his car. Jake didn't even open his mouth to answer – he just simply ignored me. I stood at the entrance, gazing at him heatedly as he drove away and it was then that I was struck by a very sudden idea – one that took very well with me.
Moving as quickly as an almost-eight-and-a-half-month pregnant woman can, I grabbed my car keys and jumped (figure of speech) into my Corvette. It took a little speed and a lot of dumb luck about basic turning direction until I finally spotted Jake. He was not taking the least bit of caution when it came to conspicuousness. He turned easily, did not speed, and didn't seem as though he was taking any false routes to trick anyone who might be pursuing. No, I do not believe that Special Agent Jake Holter knew I was following him. And then came the trouble.
The light turned red just as Jake pulled up to the traffic light. He paused to stop and I pulled right behind him, stopping my car as well. If Jake took one look around, he would see me stuck behind him in line plain as day. I did my best to look downcast, turning around and fiddling with things in my purse so that if by chance Jake DID happen to look around, he might not see my face. Besides, it was also dark – what would be the chances of him recognizing me?
The light turned green and Jake sped on ahead, I fumbling with pitching my purse onto the seat next to me and gripping my hands to the steering wheel. I slowed down a little, putting a great deal of space between Jake and I, but not enough to be able to lose him. I kept as his shadow for about three minute more before Jake turned down into a rather homey lane. Houses surrounded either side of the street, cars piled up in each driveway in a quaint sort of way. I caught the name of the street out of the corner of my eye as I eased after Jake's car. Belleville Drive.
And then Jake made one more turn, pulling up into the driveway of one of the houses. Number 28. I passed by the driveway slowly, making sure that Jake caught the fact that my car had passed and then I promptly reversed and pulled up to the house. Jake had already gone inside. Cautiously, I opened up the door to my car and stepped out.
It looked like an ordinary house by all means. It was small and built of red bricks, with rectangular glass windows at the front, and lazy grey smoke drifting from the chimney. The garden was unkempt, but so were most along the street. Newspapers cluttered the doorstep and I worked my way around them, standing on my tippy-toes to get a glimpse through the front window. My fingers grabbed hold of the window sill to keep myself from overbalancing. I craned my neck to peer through the glass. The room I was looking into was evidently the kitchen.
I pulled harder on the window sill, craning my neck just a little more. My eye meet the ridge of the sill, just being able to see a little farther beyond. I pulled myself up higher, careful not to unbalance myself. A little more of the picture was beginning to form. And then –
"Mac?"
I fell backwards from pure astonishment, my hands losing grip on the window sill. My vision spun. I shot my hands forward, trying to grasp at something to keep me from falling but nothing would give. And just when I thought I was about to hit the ground – a pair of strong hands caught me. And instantly I felt my heart hammer within my chest, my cheeks flushing. I felt . . . electrocuted.
I looked at my savior with disbelieving eyes. "Harm?" I whispered.
Harm sets me back on my feet, steadying me with his arm around my waist. He looked at me with an air of utter incredulity. Somewhere in the back of my mind I can hear other noise. Whispers, mutters, people calling my name, but I'm completely lost in Harm's eyes. We stand there for god knows how long, his arm around my waist steadying me, and my hands on his chest for no apparent reason. And then the clearing of someone's throat breaks us apart.
My head snaps to the left. "Admiral!" I exclaim.
Admiral AJ Chegwidden stands in the doorway, his arms crossed over another almost sternly, but behind the rock solid exterior of the aged Navy SEAL, I can detect a rather foreign emotion hidden in his eyes. Perhaps . . . amusement? A long silence follows my surprised outburst. I look around as people pour in from the house and out onto the lawn. Jake, Clay, Vera, and – "Sturgis?"
I'm now more surprised than ever. Even a little indignant. "What the hell?" I can't keep the tinge of anger from seeping into my voice. It was evident that they were having some sort of . . . meeting. And even more obvious from the shocked looks etched in everyone's faces that I was clearly NOT meant to be here. I mean, the Admiral – sure. But STURGIS? What use is he? I feel my cheeks go a little pink.
"Mac," Harm's voice is strong but soothing but I won't have it. Dammit, I wanted to know and I wanted to know now.
"What's going on?" I asked again, my voice tense. I looked at Clay who was staring rather uncomfortably at his shoes. Vera keeps shifting from foot to foot. And then finally – Jake comes out of the house. "Jake!"
Jake looks up at me and flashes me an almost guilty grin. "Hey, Mac, what are you doing here?"
Vera snaps her head around. "Dammit, Jake, you brought her along."
Indignation flashes upon Jake's face. "I'll have you know, Ms. Azhad, that I did no such thing. She probably followed me." He winks at me. "I won't deny that I hoped she would follow, but I definitely did not bring her along."
Vera rolls her eyes and Clay snorts. It suddenly hits me how close Vera and Clay are standing . . . or is it just my imagination? Sturgis clears his throat, breaking the cone of silence that had enveloped us all. "I seemed to have been under the mistaken impression that we were all called here for a meeting of actual importance."
"Oh right," Clay replied, fumbling with his words slightly. "Well, um, I suppose we should get back in then." He nods at me. "And I suppose we'll have to let her in."
"Thanks," I replied sarcastically, as Harm took my hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. I look up at him but his eyes are trained on my swollen stomach and it suddenly occurs to me that he hasn't seen me since I started showing. And considering I was eight and a half months pregnant, the look of mild shock upon his face was long due.
We all filter into the kitchen where three other men sat, only one of which I knew. "Keeter!" I exclaimed with pleasant surprise.
Jack grinned back at me. "Hey, Colonel."
We all took our seats in an almost formal way. Harm still held my hand. There was a moment of silence before Clay stood up from his and walked to the front of the room, but just as he was about to open his mouth the admiral interjected.
"Okay, wait – I know this meeting was called to enlighten the few of us who know nothing about what is going on here," he said quickly and authoritatively, "but could I just ask a few questions first?"
Clay almost seemed to be relieved at the interruption. "Of course, Admiral."
The Admiral exhaled deeply before continuing. "Okay, first of all," he turned to me. "Mac, though you did seem appropriately shocked to see Harm when he . . . caught you . . ." he raised an eyebrow at me but that was not one of his "few questions", "you didn't seem to be surprised at his . . . well, existence – more at why he was here."
I internally cringed. This was one of the questions I HAD been dreading. "Uh . . . yes, Sir. Um . . . well, see – I knew Harm was . . ." I trailed, looking sort of nervously at the Admiral who was staring at me intently. "Well, I knew he was alive. I have for . . . a little while, I guess."
The admiral's eyebrow cocks up. "A little while?"
I hesitate as I elaborate slowly. "Um, around nine months, I guess . . ." Give or take a few weeks.
The Admiral stares at me, his eyes reflecting the wisdom that only a CO could possess. "Italy."
It was not a question but rather a statement, and it hung in the air as I nodded. "But –" I begin.
"Which leads me to my second question," the Admiral rattles on as if there had been no interruption. "I hope you put rudeness aside for a moment, Mac, but is Harm –" he pauses for a moment but his eyes linger at my stomach. I get the drift.
"Yes," I whispered hollowly.
The idea seems to entertain the Admiral. He half grins, "I knew it couldn't be Webb."
"Hey," Webb scoffs rather indignantly from his standing position at the head of the room.
Jake grins, "told you, Clay, we should have made me the father."
The Admiral turns, "and who are you?"
Jake extends a hand, "Special Agent Jake Holter. I live with Mac."
The Admiral looks wind blown. "Okay, so let me get this straight . . ." He turns to Harm, "You're the father." Harm nods and he points at Clay. "You're the . . . fake father." Clay nods in assent as the Admiral turns back to Jake, "and you're the guy Mac lives with." Jake grins in response. The Admiral sighs, "is this confusing to anyone else but me?"
"Oh it's confusing as hell," Keeter agrees, "but would make a popular reality show."
"And back on topic," Vera says over the noise of everyone else. "As Turner pointed out just a few minutes ago, there IS a reason why you were called here." She looks almost weary as she tucks a strand of wavy auburn hair behind her ear. "And that is –"
And then a pained cry cut sharply through the air stopping Vera in mid-sentence.
A/N: I am SOOOO sorry! I know I said I would post Friday but then I got caught up in things and I couldn't and again, I am so very sorry. I'll try and get out the next chapter extra quick if that'll make you people feel any better. Ugh, and this chapter was short too. Can you ever forgive me?
Tizy: lol, yeah, I know – loads of people have updated really quickly this week. I know I'm not amongst them but like Radiorox and everyone have been posting a lot. So, did you have fun on your week away?
Sgcgirl52: yeah, you have been gone for long, haven't you? Wow, I can't imagine how many chapters you had to read . . . two months, I'm in awe. Glad you've been enjoying the store. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and I'll answer to the best of my ability (that however does not include the gender of the baby and name)
MiDushiNoSushi: FFL, eh? That's so cool – I've never had one of those before! (not including my mother, of course). Ah well, this story is nearing its end, I'm afraid. A few more chapters and . . . actually, I shouldn't be saying this. I often have a way of saying a story's going to end and then actually finish it ten chapters later. Don't take my word for anything.
ForensicsFreak1988: okay, honest opinion on HBP. How good did you REALLY think it is? Don't hold back just because it's JK Rowling we're talking about here. I mean, I am like any good HP fan in the way that I'm eagerly anticipating the next book but seriously – I mean, I've talked to my friends about the book, and well, our opinions clash, let's just say. What did YOU think of it?
(anonymous): thanks so much for the compliments. Wow, I can't imagine how long it took you to read my story. I mean I told my cousin about my story the other day so she went on the computer to check it out and was just aghast about how long it was. LOL, I hope you liked reading it. I'll keep in the mind name. Thanks!
Froggy0319: ah, froggy, you need not bribe – it'll happen soon enough. I take it you're not one those 'surprise' kind of people, eh?
Snugglebug: yay, someone who has my take on cliffhangers! LOL, I think you, me, and Radiorox are the only ones actually ON the cliffhanger boat. Everyone else complains about them! Heh heh, maybe that's why I like writing them so much . . . lol
Alix33: I loved your comparison of Clayton Webb to Severus Snape – lol, but you just HAVE to say that we can trust Clay more than Snape. I mean, come on. No matter how much we dislike them, we have to be on Webb's boat. I mean, considering HBP and all . . . and I cannot believe you've never heard of Caramilk or Crispy Crunch! Ah, next to Smarties those are my favorite chocolate ever! Okay, I demand you get on a plane, come to Canada, and hit a variety store! Immediately! I must introduce you to the world of Cadbury! (P.S: I went to a movie theater today and had one of those gigantic boxes of Smarties – it was really very good).
Jaggurl: alright, there was a little HM in this chapter . . . more in the next, I promise.
TV Angel 711: oh my, if I had a quarter for every time someone asked me the gender of the kid I would be one rich girl, let me tell you. But as I have told everyone – you'll find out SOON. And this time I actually mean it. So . . . was verbal interaction better than the telephone call?
xLovexNxPainx: LOL, have you tried making Pillsbury cookies? I swear that cookie dough is the greatest. I mean, hands down, the best.
Radiorox: I know what you mean. Ever since I learned to type (I used to be unbearably slow until last year) any and all writing I used to do by hand went out the window. LOL, question: how did you manage to scare them away? Sometimes I'm mean, sometimes I'm nice, sometimes I'm downright bitchy – nothing works!
Basketball Babe 8: omg, you read this chapter? How could you understand anything! LOL, whenever you have the time feel free to read. It is a long story.
Bite Beccy: thank you for updating! (Now another chapter . . .) LOL, terminating the Rabb assignment, let's just see what Webb and Co. will do . . .
Sugar230: I wouldn't call it teasing, per say . . . just a little friendly taunt to keep one anticipating for the next chapter! LOL, so sorry I couldn't post on Friday!
Dansingwolf: okay, well I've never been good with words OFF of paper, if you know what I mean. Like, see – on paper I can use the delete key as many times as I want. Rephrase things how I like them. In real life . . . well, let's just say a few months ago I was trying to talk myself out of suspension, did not exactly work . . . however, I did manage to talk my principle out of putting it on my permanent record, which is something. See, I'm a debater. I debate for fun. Isn't that sad? Oh yeah, and a belated Happy Birthday!
Maritza Carmichael: yeah, Harm and Webb getting along is definitely not an everyday thing, eh?
Toplesslemon: okay, I've just got to tell you, I totally dig your name. When I first read it I erupted into like a fit of giggles and my little sister who was in the room with me just stared at me as if I was the weirdest person on earth (which I probably was at the moment). Anywho . . . thanks very much for the compliments. Writing's kind of an obsession with me (I've wanted to be an author since I was six years old, if you can believe it). So glad people actually LIKE it. I mean, the only fans I've ever had up till now are . . . well, my closest friends and my mother, which is kind of sad actually. My creative writing teacher has never found the appeal in my writing. LOL.
Pissed Off Poet 1: okay, I feel like I must confide in something. When I began this story, I had picked out a name. I had picked out a gender, a name – and it was Taylor. And I was going to, you know, let people review and donate names for the middle name, you see (by the way, I was so shocked when someone actually DID donate the name Taylor, I started laughing at the irony of it all) and then my mind sort of . . . broadened. You see, I came up with this alternate . . . thing. Okay, I can't explain it, and I won't begin to try. You'll see in a couple of chapters – I promise you, you'll see it. I just can't tell you because then I'll give it away. I know I will – I always do.
Daisymh: thanks, hope you like this chapter.
Alex: okay, first of all – I want to clarify things. At no point in time will Mac "do" Jake. And I'm not going to even BEGIN on arguing the whole Mac-promotion thing because as wonderful as a promotion for Harm would be, the fact is THE WHOLE WORLD THINKS HE'S DEAD. As for what the future holds in way of Mac's pregnancy, you do not know what's going to happen, no one but I do, so I'd like it if you didn't doom my story before you know what happens. Thanks very much.
Kitty X: Well, here was a small HM scene. More to come, I promise.
Angie: thanks for the names, I'll definitely put them on my list. Hope you liked this chapter!
Jamie: that's true . . . and believe me, Mac's name won't . . . ugh, I can't tell you! This is so infuriating because I DO want to tell you what's going to happen. Look, you'll see in a few chapters, and then you'll understand it all, okay? I know I must be annoying saying all of this, but seriously, give me a little time and you'll fully comprehend. I promise.