AN: The very unplanned sequel to the equally unplanned story "Don't ask". Just as fluffy, makes just as little sense. So enjoy.
Spoilers: Don't ask. Every pun intended.
Disclaimer: Whoops! I forgot to put a disclaimer in my "Don't ask" story. So consider it done with this one. I still don't own anything or anyone concerning JAG.
Careful as not to wake anyone, Mac opened the door of the apartment of her very best friend. She wasn't quite sure if he'd be there, since he was investigating a case that could turn out to be very nasty. So only if he had Lady Fortune on his side to make sure everything would go down smoothly, he would have made it home before she did.
Home. Somewhere along the line she'd started to consider his apartment home. Probably ever since the first time she slept in his arms after telling him why he'd been finding her in his bed every once in a while.
He told her she didn't have to ask again. Just to come by whenever her need to feel safe and protected became too urgent. She'd taken him up on his invitation and found out that it gradually became easier to give in to her desire to be with him as he seemed to welcome her with open arms every time, literally. And in those arms, those wonderful strong arms…she'd been sleeping like a baby.
But the best news of all was the slight shift their relationship seemed to take in the meantime. During the day at the office, he was more fun and open with her than he had been in a long time, sometimes he even seemed to be flirting with her.
And the nights…now that he'd actually given his approval to her presence, he'd started to kiss her goodnight. They started out as simple kisses, merely a brush of his lips against her cheek, her temple, her forehead, until last night…
She wasn't sure if he'd done in on purpose or simply by accident, but the fact was that his kiss had ended squarely on her lips. Shocked, they'd both pulled away, just to tentatively lock lips again in the softest sweetest, most delicate kiss she'd ever experienced.
That night, he'd held her closer than he had all those previous nights. They hadn't discussed it, but this morning, he'd kissed her again, just as sweetly as the night before. His husky "See you tonight, Sarah.", implicated more than she had ever hoped for and not just because he'd used her given name.
Right now, she scanned the apartment and found him not home, as she expected. She smiled at the thought. This would give her the chance of preparing a nice romantic dinner for the two of them. She wanted to ask him something and though it might not take all the pump and circumstance she was planning to use, it could never hurt, could it?
It took her half an hour to get things organized, but when she stepped back to overview her hard work, she nodded satisfied. It looked perfect. Not too overdone, just a little intimate setting. Her vegetarian lasagna (the one she knew he loved) was in the oven, the sparkly cider in the cooler…which left her with just about enough time to take a shower and to change into something more…appropriate.
Unaware of what was about to happen, she stepped into the bathroom, grabbing one of Harm's fluffy towels from the linen closet on her way.
The moment she turned the lights on, she saw it. It was a very common, nondescript (marine)green bathroom utensil. But when she touched it, very carefully, as if it was about to break, she felt hot tears running down her cheek.
She didn't need to ask him after all. She didn't require an answer. He'd given her one, the only one she needed. She was welcome to stay. Indefenitely.In his apartment, his bed, his arms, his life.
Just a simple object, put next to his own in the glass on the shelf above the bathroom sink, like it belonged there, like it had been sitting there for years…her own toothbrush…with a note on it. It simply read: Don't ask.
THE END.