I loved Harm and Trishes interaction here it's amusing. It's also a Disruption I have't finished so...why not. And in a way, she's right...he has to loosen up!

Chapter 19

"Commander, do the honors." Chegwidden motions towards me and for a second I stand dumbfounded amogst my peers.

It's been three weeks since Norfolk and a murder I should have comited. Three weeks of groveling that never worked. Three weeks of flowers that she simply tossed out or gave away. Three weeks, seventeen messages and me nearly getting arrested for solicting outside of her building.

Three weeks and a TAD where she was sent to a carrier and I practically begged our CO to let me join. Instead, Chegwidden sent her with Brumby and that only bubbled to life a jealousy that ate at me like some dark creature.

Now she's in front of me, a newly minted Lt. Colonel standing ramrod straight and stoic. Her expression is impassive when the Admiral asks me to kiss her. A peck on the cheek that's what I intended and yet I come far too close to her lips and Mac flinches.

I stepped back, not that I wanted to - it was the only close contact we had in weeks and I was desperate to touch her and beg for forgiveness until Mac was in my arms again. Instead the Admiral dismisses the group and asks her to stay behind.

That terrifies me because with a promotion usually comes a transfer and I can't stand to think that she may be sent to the opposite end of the Earth or that may never see her again. "Lt. Commander Rabb? My office in five please."

I can't even hide a cringe when she says my rank and obediently arrive a few minutes earlier. She waves me in and I shut the door, this is not a conversation our coworkers need to hear. We never came out as a couple, only Bud knew and he was too good of a man to blab. "Congratulations, Mac."

"Commander, I believe the correct way to address a senior officer is 'ma'am.' Or do you squids have a problem with memory loss?"

I cringe again and can't even stop myself from doing so. Her tone has me snapping to attention like a first year plebe. "I apologize ma'am. My heartiest congratulations on your promotion. It was well deserved."

She tenses, I see it in the way Mac straightens in her chair as if she believes I wasn't being sincere. That hurts just as much as a slap across my face would. "Thank you...Now, the reason I wanted to speak to you."

"You've been avoiding me." I blurt out and meantally kick myself when those delicate eyebrows hit her hairline and then furl. "I get it… I..uh, fucked up. I fucked up bad, I get it but please, Mac, let me fix it. I can fix it."

"No, I don't think you can."

"What do I have to do?"

She sits back and folds her arms across her chest and her expression softens. I think I've made some sort of headway when she guts me just a little more. "I put in a request to Chegwidden."

Oh no. I think back several months when my inability to let go of Diane forced Mac to leave, a transfer to California. A transfer where she met Dalton Lowne and I almost lost her for good. I don't want to work in this office without her. I don't want Chegwidden parading partner after partner none of which are her. "Are you transferring?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"That...That's good. This place doesn't work without you."

"Maybe I should have stayed away." She says on a heavy sigh and I wonder if that statement was meant to be said out loud. "I had all of these feelings I shouldn't have entertained...I realized I needed to be far away from you. But, I'm not running this time. I almost tanked my career so I'm asking you to give me a wide berth and stop with the calls and flowers. Please don't force me to make it an order."

Space. She wants the space I haven't even tried to give her because I expected Mac would understand. "Understood. We need to talk about the Lopez case it's…"

With a wave of her hand Mac cuts me off and delivers a blow I don't see coming. "As of ten minutes ago you are no longer on the Lopez case. I asked Chegwidden to partner me with someone else. Unfortunately it's Brumby."

"Brumby? Mac...uh, Colonel, he's proved to be incometent and reckless and…"

"Reckless? That's a fine statement coming from you."

She's right...of course. I was reckless and stupid and… "So this? Us? We're through?"

"Yes."

"Okay." I don't say another word, I don't even ask to be dismissed, just stand up and make my way out of her office. We really don't have more to say.

I was blessed to have a few days in the books, I thought Russia had exhausted all of my leave but it turns out our chief of staff was happy to bend a few rules. Or maybe she wanted to get rid of me just so that Brumby could easily slide into her life.

I'm bitter especially when that sonofabitch smirks at me as if he's won some sort of prize. He's crass, annoying and if he leers at Mac one more time, I will pummel him with my bare fists - no gun required this time.

The flight to California felt endless and any sleep I may have benefitted from was interrupted by my thoughts of Mac. I couldn't get the look of disappointment out of my head or the light in her eyes which dimmed slightly.

She was right, there was no 'fix' for a man who was willing to ruin his life and hers for an old flame he was obsessed with. I hate Diane. I hate her. Most of all, I hate myself.

What I stupidly believed was an act of nobility would have ended my life, a fact that Diane might have found just as disappointing as Mac. There was no honor in murdering Holbarth who had no chance to defend himself. A man who swore to protect the law turned mad over an obsession.

I lost the woman I really loved as well.

"Darling, you seem a little off." My mother says when she steps out to the back deck and hands me a snifter with bourbon. "Is it because of your father?"

Is it? I wonder how much of what happened made me the man I am with obsessions illy controlled and a mountain of emotions I'm poorly equipped to understand. "How did you move on? How did you trust yourself to love someone knowing that...that they could disappear one day and never come back?"

My voice startles me, the fragility of a conversation we should have had decades ago. I'm ashamed because I resented her moving on. I resent her for loving Frank when she should have waited for dad. I resent her because I don't resent her, not anymore.

She smiles that sly kinda smile when a parent is about to impart a life lesson and I nearly choke on my drink when she speaks, "Get over it. Move on."

"What?"

"You heard me. I can't tell you it didn't hurt because that was a blow I knew could come but I never expected." She sighs and stands next to me, her fingers pinching the stem of a wine glass as we stand looking out at the Pacific. "I couldn't imagine I'd become a potential widow at such a young age. I went from happily married to a single parent of an impulsive and head strong little boy that idolized his father. It was difficult, so difficult."

"I remember hearing you cry." For years I couldn't shake that sound and knew, without reservation, that I never wanted to feel that kind of pain.

Mom nods and turns to face me. "Part of me hoped he was killed instantly. I didn't want to spend years not knowing or have him come back so traumatized he was not the man I fell in love with. Although it pained me to hear it, I'm happy he had another life. I can't fault him for that, for moving on. I also have another life and a man I love more than your father."

"You do?"

She sighs and averts her eyes away from mine as if she's afraid of my reaction. "I do. I love Frank with all of my heart. I won't apologize for telling you because he's my World and I no longer have a shadow of another love over my head. I do wish your father would have come home. What happened was a tragedy and I will always, always have a place in my heart for him, that fire will never die out."

My fingers are gripping the glass tightly, the warmth of my hand keeping the bourbon at a nice temperature that makes it feel warm as it goes down my throat. It calms me somewhat and I'm about to speak when my mother surprises me. "Let her go, Darling."

"Who?"

She shakes her head and that knowing smirk is back. "Diane Shonke. I know you had some feelings and I'm sure you thought she was wonderful but, a mother knows...She didn't love you."

"Mom…"

Her hand comes over one of mine which she squeezes tightly and the look in her eyes is every bit the concerned mother. "You're allowed to be sad and angry but don't let those emotions become an obsession."

"You're right, I'll work on that." I don't tell her about Holbarth, I can't because her disappointment may fully destroy me. Instead I take another gulp and nod.

We spend the next hour playing cards out on the deck and just when I believe I had the upper hand, she completely throws my game off. "So, you haven't told me, how's Mac?"

She hates me, that's how she is. She hates me because I'm an idiot. "Alright, I guess."

"Mmm, she's quite the girl, isn't she?"

I sigh, the woman is playing matchmaker again. If she only knew, mom would murder me. "Don't start."

"What? Mac's a special lady. She's good looking, sweet, intelligent and so much better than any of the girls you've dated. I like her...I like her a lot. She's good for you." She's smiling sweetly, playing matchmaker was never her thing but after meeting Mac the first time, mom has this need to bust my chops. It's embarrassing and I feel myself start to blush.

"We're not dating." And Mac was most definitely not a girl. She was a woman who filled out a Marine uniform a bit too well. A woman that made my heart stop the first time I saw her in a bikini. All woman, soft skin, perfect curves, strong and intelligent. Yep, Sarah MacKenzie was the complete package. And I lost her...again.

"Well you should be. I've only met Sarah twice and it's clear to see that she's crazy about you too."

Mac was also, most definitely, not interested in me anymore. Can you fall out of love so easily?

Well she did find my dress whites overrated so maybe it is easy for her to turn it on and off like a bilge switch "It's Mac...she's not Sarah. I don't really call her Sarah much."

Mom lets out a sound that is between a tsk and a scoff followed by an eye roll and I'm tempted to call her out on that. 'Do not roll your eyes at me, Harmon!' was a standard sentence in her vocabulary when I was growing up, oh how things change. "Well you should. It's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"She's not a girl!" Surely she sensed the physical fascination between us, even before we got together, it was there. Hell, the whole damn office got sucked into our 'will they, won't they.' "Mom, we work together."

"Aaaand?"

"Aaaand, It's the military. You don't date your partner in the military. There's rules, regulations to keep a happy balance and…"

She seemed less than impressed with this assessment if the rolling of her eyes and an unlady-like snort was an indication. "Well you should. You're less of a...grump around her...She makes you fun."

"I am fun!" I defend only to have her eyes roll again.

"Oh please, you take things too seriously...Darling, I understand but, it's alright to lose control from time to time."

"I'm a fighter pilot, a lawyer. You lose control in my world and things get very dicey, very fast."

"Harm." A warm, knowing smile graces her lips and I feel like I'm thirteen and she's about to impart a life lesson. "You aren't flying a Tomcat right now, my love."

Only with Mac I often felt as if I was going Mach 3 with no way of slowing down. I didn't like that feeling because the only way to stop was by crashing and burning which I did in the most spectacular fashion. Thankfully, I was offered a respite when Frank stepped out to the patio carrying a fresh tray of drinks. Thank God! I think I need to be drunk for this. "What did I miss?"

"Mac." "Nothing."

We say at the same time and I'm levelled by her death glare which I hadn't seen since I was 16 having just returned from Laos. It makes me cringe especially when mom places her glass of wine down, stretches across the table and whacks me on the arm. It stings and she whacks me again for good measure. "Oww, mom!"

"Nothing? Harmon Rabb Junior! Sarah MacKenzie is not nothing… When are you going to get your head out of your ass and admit that you're in love with that girl?"

"Mom!" Ass? She never cursed, never and had washed my mouth with soap countless times when I did. "I'm not in love with her." Only I am. but my stubborn, hurt pride doesn't want to admit it anymore.

"Right. And I wasn't in love with your mother either."

"You weren't?" I realized how dumb the question was a little too late because Frank is laughing his head off two seconds later. "Oh, funny. Hilarious. You two should take this show on the road. And you wonder why I don't visit more often."

"In all seriousness, I know you have rules in the military but, do what makes you happy." Frank nudges me with his elbow and then turns to look at my mom. He stares at her like she's the only woman on Earth, the force that keeps him grounded.

I want that. I need that but fear this kind of happiness has slipped through my fingertips and I will never get it back. "I messed up. I hurt her and don't know how to fix it."

"Grovel and plead and flowers, lots of flowers."

"I've tried that."

Frank preses a hand to my shoulder and sighs. "Tell her what you feel… what you really feel. Look, Mac makes you happy, you are...less grumpy around her."

"I am not grumpy!" I heave a sigh and sink into my chair feeling like a kid who had been recently reprimanded.

Four days passed until I landed at Andrews and my waiting Corvette chose to drive towards Georgetown. I made a pit stop at a flower shop opting for wild flowers other than traditional red roses. I make another pit stop at Filomena Ristorante, undoubtedly the best Italian restaurant in the city with it's odd decor and killer chocolate mousse that Mac fawns over.

I grab our usuals and head to her apartment with an armful of delectable ammunition. I'm nervous when I arrive, something I have been around a girl in forever. I knock with my foot and Mac yells something unintelligible as she throws the door open and raises a fist that she drops seconds later. "Harm? I thought you were in La Jolla?"

For some stupid reason it isn't an appology or groveling that springs from my lips. It's a question and I immediately regret it when her brown eyes widen. "Am I a grump?"