Well hey guys! Happy Monday- erm, Tuesday to you all! Busy week over here, school, work, one of our clients' business is in Texas – Hurricane – etc, no need to fill in more. So we've been trying to do all we can from our end. Needless to say, it's exhausting.

This is not super smutty, but it's like an R rated version of smut, I guess. If you're on Ffnet or FOJ, e-mail me off list (radiorox)at(bellsouth)dot(net) for the paragraph or two that you didn't get to read. It's a bit graphic, nothing out of this world though, I've written worse. ;)

Enjoy!

Have a good week and thank you for all of the feedback! Some suggestions (Killing Vic? ;)) Have been noted. Hehehe.)

PART 14 - Completeness
1120 Local
O'Mally's Inn
San Diego, California

Bud, Harriet, Harm and Mac stepped into the Irish pub, something about the place reminded them of, "McMurphy's. . .This place reminds me of McMurphy's." Bud said with a grin, taking his wife's hand as they weaved through the tables to one at the back. The place was actually of the nicer variety with several pool tables, and an ample space for dancing. It was decorated with the traditional green color and lucky clovers along with several road signs that appear to have come from Ireland.

From they moment they had stepped inside, both Harriet and Mac had admirers by way of a few bikers that were seated on stools by the bar. From his vantage point, Harm could clearly see the men turning ever so often and leering at the women. He glared back at them, attempting to give him his best 'turn away or I'll kill you' look which the men merely scoffed at. "You girls have a set of admirers."

Mac turned slowly, trying not to be obvious. "Ah, they are harmless. . .Don't pay them any attention else they'll keep bugging us." She was trying to be diplomatic about it, but in truth, she liked him playing the protector. The ride to the bar had been rather interesting. Harm had driven, Bud had sat in the front with him while Harriet and Mac had talked 'girl things.' There was one comment she made, something about uniforms being overrated which caught Harm's attention. 'That look you gave me when I arrived didn't have 'overrated' written over it.' He said. Through the rearview mirror, he glanced at her, his flyboy smile grinning wider than ever when she winked back at him.

Somehow, it was almost as if that little tiff at the ball hadn't happened. And then, occasionally he would stare at her the way he was now, with a sad look laced with confusion. "So? How about that dance?" He said in a gentle voice, pointing towards the small dancing area where a few other couples had gathered. Harm extended his hand to hers hoping she would take it and why wouldn't she? Didn't she want the last dance to be with him? Mac didn't say anything, just slipped her hand into his and allowed him to take her towards the dance floor.

"You know, they look good together." Harriet said, leaning into her husband. She rested her head on his shoulder, her arms coming around his torso. "Think they'll figure things out?"

"I doubt it." For his negativity, Bud received a poke to his side. "HEY! Uh, I mean, of course they will."

Odd for an Irish pub, a smooth, slow, rockish/jazzy number washed over the couples dancing. Harm pulled Mac close to him, leaving very little space between the two of them. He was still preoccupied with their conversation at the ball and why it was that she didn't just let him leave like he thought she wanted. Maybe that was the problem? He was over-thinking everything. "Uh, Mac, what I said back at the ball. . .I didn't mean to imply that you couldn't handle the situation with Vukovic. . .I just. . ."

"Wanted to play hero?" She finished for him.

"Somewhat. . .I guess."

Despite the conversation, she smiled up at him. "Harmon Rabb, you never change do you?" He stared down at her with a confused expression which Mac chuckled off. "That was a compliment." She kept her eyes on his as they swayed to the music. "What am I going to do with you?"

There was something in her voice that sounded nothing even close to being platonic. If he wasn't mistaken, that was the voice of seduction. His heart slammed into his chest, his breathing shallower and he was, suddenly, sweating profusely. She'd tried to seduce him before and he just never got it, until years later when it call came back at him like a slap in the face. If she was playing that game, he would play it too. "What do you want to do with me."

"Oh, I can think up a few fun things." Her bold answer took him by surprise. True, Harm had been seduced before. Willingly seduced. And it wasn't that he was unwilling, but with Mac, things were always different. She was that one jewel that was to be hidden away from prying eyes and even away from the collector himself. She was. . .everything.

Despite his want to give into her, he couldn't do it. Not like this and definitely not in some tavern. "I'm tired, Mac. Let's sit down."

Mac tried not to look disappointed, but she couldn't help it. Thankfully she bit back a snarky comment about his preferences in women. As they sat down, the waitress was coming by with their drinks, beers for both Harm and Bud, a Cosmo for Harriet and soda with a twist for Mac. "Are you two going to dance?" She asked her friends, whom she was secretly envying. Bud and Harriet had their moments of insecurity, but, through it all they'd made it, together. More than anything, she wanted that, to have a man that was there with her through thick and thin. If one would look at the bigger picture of her life, she did have that. Everything that she wanted in a man was all part of Harm. Then why wasn't she with him? Why did all of her attempts to try and sway him only end up in heartache.

"We were waiting for you and the Captain to return so that you could watch the table." Harriet said and then pulled her husband up. She led him through to the dance floor and slid into his embrace. With a frown, she cast a sly glance towards Harm and Mac. "Something happened."

Bud looked around the bar, trying to spot what his wife was talking about. "Where?" For his ignorance, Harriet whacked him over the shoulder. "What? Oh!" He turned so that they were both facing their friends. Harm was staring out the window, seemingly deep in thought. Mac was playing with her glass of soda, also deep in thought.

Mac lifted her gaze towards him, unable to read Harm's expression. Damnit, didn't he want her? At least, slightly? Okay, so she wasn't the most beautiful woman in the world, but men found her attractive. Didn't they? "Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you."

"Then what are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"About what?"

Whatever he was thinking about, Harm had a feeling she didn't need to hear. Yes, things were less complicated, but they were complicated nevertheless. Sighing, he turned to her. "Things you don't need to know about." His tone was just a bit harsher than he cared for.

"Fine, I won't ask you anything else then." Mac downed the rest of her soda, slamming the glass down to the center of the table. She was tired of this 'dance,' as she liked to call it. She was tired of opening her heart to the possibility of being with him when it was clear he didn't want anything but a friend. That was fine because no matter what happened, she would always be there for him, always. But, maybe it was time for her to make a complete and clean break? Five years ago, everything had ended with an uncertainty that had left her pinning for him though she'd tried to deny it. Now, she couldn't be more certain if it smacked her in the face. Without a word, she stood, made her way slowly across the tavern and sat on a stool. "Soda with a twist please."

"Do you want some alcohol in that?" A perky blonde bartended, who looked as if she'd had one too many, asked.

Mac shook her head. "Nope, just the soda. I'm driving tonight." She lied, but it was definitely the wrong thing to be telling a bartender that she didn't drink. When the soda was passed in front of her, Mac sipped it, hoping its coolness would calm something inside of her. She felt a pair of eyes on her and they weren't Harm's. Turning to her right she caught those same bikers that were leering at her and Harriet upon their entrance. One of them was kind of cute, if you went for that total degenerate type of thing. The other, Mac noted, must have just come out of jail if the fresh jailhouse tattoo was an indication. There was a third, but that man was so wasted she wasn't too sure he'd even know what to do with a woman. Politely, she smiled at the men, then turned her back away, drinking the rest of her soda.

Keeping one eye on Harm and the other on Mac was becoming an all night affair. Damnit, her children were better behaved, Harriet thought. "They were dancing together and then one moment, boom!"

Shrugging, Bud turned them around so that Harriet's back was to their friends, only to spot Mac and the bikers. "Honey, it's not your problem. . .I would like them to get together as much as you do, but, let's face it. . .If in almost a decade they couldn't make it work, why would it work now?"

He was right, she knew that his logic was right on the money. But, Harriet had her own beliefs. "If they aren't meant to be together, why do they always wind up together? Answer me that." And he didn't have an answer, something that pleased her. "I think they just have to stop fighting it and let it happen."

"What's a pretty woman like you, doing in a place like this, dressed like that?" Mr. Jailhouse Tattoo asked Mac from over the bar, his breath stinking of stale beer and cheap cigarettes.

"None of your business." She ignored the men, wishing to just ignore the whole male population if possible.

"Larry, you ever seen a girl looking that hot in here?" He asked his friend, who only chuckled.

Sighing, Mac leaned against the bar and ordered another soda. True, she wasn't drinking, but they didn't need to know that. "Damn, Lady. . .Aren't you buzzed yet?"

She chuckled slightly, turning to face them with a goofy grin. "Nah, I can hold my own thanks."

Harm had barely noticed she had left. He was too busy trying to figure out things for himself, too busy weighing options. He asked himself the same questions he'd asked before, when they were still in Washington. Whenever they'd gotten closer, he'd, literally freaked. He wasn't lying when he'd admitted he was only this way with her. The sad fact of it was that he didn't know how to remedy it short of taking what he wanted. Harm wasn't too sure she appreciated the Neanderthal thing, so he let it slide. Of course, in the middle of his self exploration, he decided to turn to his former partner and she wasn't sitting in front of him. "Maaa-c?"

Looking every which way, he was settling on the idea that she was in the head, when he spied the bikers a little too close for his liking. One of the men reached over the bar, ruffling the bottom of Mac's hair with his big, filthy fingers. Amusing how quickly a man's blood could boil. In about three seconds, he strode across the bar and to Mac's side. "Hey."

Mac turned to look at him and then turned away. "Done thinking?"

Now, he may have had a chance to respond, but when a group of bikers show up around you, things tend to get a bit tense. "You bothering the lady, sailor boy?" The one with the jailhouse tattoo asked, as he bumped Harm from behind. "I don't think she wants you around."

Harm turned slowly, leaning his back against the bar. "Fellas. . .hey. . We're friends." He waved his fingers between him and Mac.

"And she doesn't look like she wants to be friends with you." Jailhouse Tattoo swung hard, connecting with the side of Harm's face. He wasn't prepared for the blow at all which would be why a second later he was sprawled on the floor with a confused expression. "That's what I think of the Navy, Sailor boy!" He felt a tap of his shoulder which cam from a well manicured hand. Turning around he discovered the sight of one pissed off female Marine officer.

"I'd like to pick who I am friends with, thank you." Mac wound up and the man, which towered greatly over her, only chuckled. He wasn't laughing, however, when Mac's fist hit the bridge of his nose, breaking it. The pain made him double over and that's when the brawl ensued.

Members of the biker gang, ran up on Mac who had pulled Harm up to stand. They were surrounded, standing back to back as the group moved in. From behind, they could see Bud and Harriet nearing the crowd. "On two." Mac ordered about to begin a traditional countdown only to yell. "Two!" Reaching out, she grabbed one of the men, using a Marine fighting technique to bend his arm, nearly to the point of breaking.

Harm grabbed one of the stools, shoving it into the biker's bellies, then smacking it over one of their heads. "Mac, two o'clock." He warned.

"Got it! . . .Watch your six!" She ducked an attack, then kicked another who was setting his sights on Harm.

Harriet, for her part, could fight pretty well. This was evident as she used her purse to whack one of the biker's over his head who had Bud in a choke hold. "Let. Go. Of. My. Hus. Band!" She accentuated between blows, choosing then to just use her fist, hitting Bud instead. "Oh, honey!" As he hit the floor, she had a clean vantage of the biker. Winding up, she kicked him in one of those places a man should never be hit. Grinning, she curtsied, then pulled Bud up to his feet.

It didn't take too long for the two bouncers from out front to get into the action. One took Mac, the other took Harriet, nearly dumping them both on their sixes on the curb. "Oww! I broke my heal!" Harriet yelled, glancing over at Mac who's hair was matted onto her face. "How are you doing?"

"I'm going to kill Harm. That's how I am doing. . ."

Not more than a minute later, the same bouncers came out, one dragging Harm, the other carrying Bud who was, literally, thrown on top of Harm. "Oww! Bud, your elbow is in my face!" He moved the junior officer's body parts before they caused any damaged and then worked on standing "Sorry Bud." Reaching down, Harm helped pull Bud out, carefully eyeing his legs, making sure nothing had happened to the prosthetic.

Bud, for his part, was beaming like a kid with a big bowl of ice cream. "That was awesome!"

Both Mac and Harriet got themselves up from the ground, each giving their date an equal share of the death glare. "Oh, yes, awesome. . .I had to save your six, Bud!"

"That's not true."

"Oh? If I hadn't. . ."

For their part, Harm and Mac were too engaged in an argument. "You had to antagonize that guy didn't you?"

"Antagonize my six! I didn't do a thing, he just had a thing for you."

"A thing? Harm, please!"

"Oh, c'mon, Mac, I saw the way he looked at you!"

"And how was that?"

"As if. . if. . .like. . .like you had 'USDA Certified Choice Beef' stamped on your six, okay?" He huffed out, obviously annoyed that she hadn't chosen to put him in his place. "And you were just chatting away with him."

"I wasn't CHATTING AWAY, I was trying to get him to shut up." Sighing, she glanced over at Bud and Harriet who were now kissing and making up. At least they knew when to quit, she and Harm, arguments were a staple of their non-relationship. "Listen, let's get home? I am tired, you're all mangled up and. . ."

Harm's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "I am NOT mangled up."

"Oh no? Then where's that cut above your eyebrow from?"

0030 Local
Mac's House
San Diego, California

"You attract trouble." Mac decided, though it wasn't something she didn't know before. If Harm attracted it, the combination of him and her, nearly begged for it.

Still, even during the drive over, he wouldn't let it go. "Me? Hey, you were the one getting cozy with the biker dudes, not me."

"I wasn't getting cozy. . .I was. . .I was."

"What?"

"I don't know, trying to have fun."

Suddenly, that was a bit more than he bargained for. "I don't want to know."

As usual, he missed the point completely. "Not that type of fun. . .Sheesh, one track mind, Rabb." She pointed at the sofa, signaling that she wanted to him to sit down. "I'll be back with a first aid kit." He knew better than to argue. Instead, he dimmed some of the lights, put the stereo on and took off everything save for his slacks and shirt. She came back downstairs, still wearing that incredible dress and now barefoot. It was a combination that, if possible, made her even sexier than she already was. As she sat by him, Mac didn't question the light jazz music nor the dimming of the lights. She'd given up on this being a romantic evening the moment Vukovic screwed it all up. "You okay?"

She fumbled through the box, pulling out peroxide, bandages and antibacterial cream. "No. . .my career's been threatened tonight, we got in a bar fight, the General's probably going to chew my six out for that one . .There's nothing to feel okay about." She used a cotton swab to apply the peroxide, blowing on it slightly as he winced. Mesmerized, Harm watched as she tended to his cut, placing the cream and then a band aid. "Does it hurt anywhere else?" She asked, smoothing cream over a few other scratches on his face.

"Other than my pride?" He shook his head in amusement, leave it to Mac to be his rescuer. "Jesus, they teach you guys well at Parris Island. I've never seen a guy be so scared at a woman."

She couldn't help laughing, the whole evening, while not ideal, had been amusing to say the least. "Yea, well. . . This is a reason I stay away from fights. We're trained to kill."

"I'm sorry. . ."

"Nah, it was fun though." Lifting his hand, she took a look at his knuckles which were slightly bruised, the left which also had a small cut. She swabbed peroxide over it and then smeared more cream all the while not knowing he was watching her every move.

"You're good at this, you know?" Harm's voice was soft and gentle. He pretended that he didn't feel her shiver when he spoke. "For all of that toughness, your hands are gentle."

"Years of practice patching things up at home I guess." Mac tried not to read too much into his sudden about face and pretend she didn't hear how sweet that sounded.

"No. . . You're just good at taking care of things. . .Of me." He snaked a finger under her chin, lifting her face so that he could read her eyes. Her expression was hidden, but he knew he could unlock the walls and find what he was looking for. "That's why, at first you kept pushing me away that last year we worked together? You thought you were protecting me from you. . .Because you thought you'd hurt me worse." She didn't answer, but he took it as a yes. It was amazing to him how in this split moment he had an epiphany. It was now starting to make sense. Mac wasn't pushing him away because of Webb, she was doing it because she didn't want him to be bound to her with her problems. How had he never seen that before? "You won't hurt me, Mac. . .Just, let it go."

Let go? He wanted her to leg go? She brushed his hand away from her, sighing deeply as the weight of his eyes seemed to do her in. This definitely wasn't the romantic moment she was hoping for. It would probably never come. "Shouldn't that be my argument to you?" Slowly, she moved from the sofa to the coffee table, sitting on it's top. "Let me see that other scratch, it doesn't need bandaging, but maybe some ointment." Gingerly, she applied the cream over a lone scratch on his wrist, figuring that it must have come from that barstool breaking to bits.

When would she ever stop feeling for him? It was odd, stupid, confusing, at least in her mind. From day one, he crawled under her skin and stayed there. But, that wasn't enough, as if she didn't have enough problems, one morning she woke up and realized she was clearly in love with Harmon Rabb. But, the one day she decided to let him know, he shot her down and truthfully, she never recovered, at least never enough to ever make the first move again. Or so she thought. Since they'd met again, she'd left him openings, cookie crumbs to some, yes, but it was more than that to her. She was trying to open up to him again. Looking at him laying on her sofa, there was this maternal instinct to take care of him. There was also a want coursing through her, one that she thought had been squelched until the moment she laid eyes on him again.

Harm sat up, moving towards the edge of the sofa. "Mac?" He stopped her hands from moving, the feeling of her caresses on his skin were driving him insane. There was only so much a man could take. Sighing, he closed his eyes, took one of her hands and placed it right on his chest. "Just feel." His eyes opened and locked onto her own, there were no words, no hesitation. He wanted her to feel and so she was doing that. Mac's other hand ran over his cheek and down over his chest. Her breath hitched when she saw this look in his eyes that had never been there before. So this is what she did to him. This is what he was trying to hide for all of those years? Somehow they'd moved so close together that she could feel his breath on her skin. God, this was going to be her undoing. And was that really a bad thing? He was here, living in the same city. There were no regulations, no commanding officers, nothing stopping them but themselves. But, damnit why hadn't he kissed her yet?

Because he was waiting on her. Slowly, she moved forward, licking her lips and keeping her eyes closed. It seemed like minutes passed when, in reality it was seconds before their lips touched. The kiss was slow and gentle, an exploration of something that was almost completely foreign. For a few seconds neither of them knew what to do. But, when he tried to break the kiss, she leaned into him, pushing him against the sofa as she sat on his lap. "I do want to let go." He whispered, his voice barely audible.

Harm wrapped his arms around her, slowly lowering Mac's body onto the sofa, then covering it with his own. He kissed her more fully then, his tongue wandering around the seam of her mouth which she opened almost immediately. His very heart and soul was poured into a kiss that was threatening to choke him, to drown him and he willingly accepted. She couldn't quite help that involuntary moan, or the way her legs were wrapping around his torso. She wanted to surrender every bit of herself to him.

Mac wasn't sure how long had passed before they parted. Looking up, she found him hovering just slightly away from her, the expression in his eyes full of smoke and desire. "Tell me you want this." He pleaded.

"You still have doubts?" She was slightly offended, off put by his plea. How could he possibly believe she didn't want to be with him?

"I need to know."

Ah, so much like herself, he needed the words. With a grin, she raised herself up, nipping lightly his chin. "I want this." Her voice was husky, passionate and as she went to kiss him again, she added, "I want you." He swore, those were the most wonderful words he'd ever heard. "I want you."

Quickly, he moved off of her, coming to his feet and then reaching a hand down for her. This time, he wasn't going to back down. He couldn't, not without destroying everything they had built and he wouldn't take that chance, not tonight. Neither were sure how they had ended up in her bedroom, but there they were laying in bed, still kissing.

It wasn't much longer before the two of them had shed all of the clothing and the lights had been dimmed slightly. Mac lay on her back this time, Harm on his side. She was blushing, he could tell and the expression in her eyes filled with so much desire it overwhelmed him. Why hadn't he seen this before? For that matter, why hadn't she? They knew each other damn well, could read each other like a damned book. How the hell had they missed this?

Hours later, entwined between the sheets they lay covered in sweat, his arm draped possessively over her body, holding her to him. It would be the first time in years that the both of them would sleep so peacefully.