Title: What A Long Strange Week It Has Been

Chapter/Day Three

By: Liz D

Normal Disclaimers – Thanks for logging in. Written: September 2003 SUNDAY – 1536 EST

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Mac had been at the office for nearly three hours. Harm had called her the night before a couple times and started again that morning. She hadn't picked up or returned any of his calls because – well she had no idea why – she just didn't what to talk to him. She actually did know why but was too embarrassed to admit it to herself. She was scared – plain and simple. She was terrified about what he was going to say and she was more scared about what he wouldn't say. There was a possibility that she was about to get everything she had IMPLIED she ever wanted and that frightened her. But what she was really scared of was not getting anything she wanted and being made a fool of for hoping - again. It the end it didn't matter – there was no chance in hell that Mac and Harm could make a go of a relationship. It was too late for them. She had convinced herself of that a LONG time ago. Yet she couldn't deny the fact that she hadn't moved on – not really.

So she avoided the call and in her head she started to convince herself that he was just feeling guilty and needed to make some amends, but then she checked herself. Don't answer for him any more. She finally picked up on the third call that morning. The conversation played over in her head as she tried to push it out with work.

"Mac – You're home. –We need to talk. Can I come see you?"

"Where are you?"

"Pennsylvania – I can be there in three hours."

"No. Take care of what you need to take care of there."

"It's just as important to take care of what is going on with us."

"We won't resolve it in one conversation, Harm."

"I am aware of that."

She was silent. She wanted to point out that there was no "US" to discuss, but that was not how she felt.

"Will you be here tomorrow?" he asked tentatively.

"I will. What time is the service?"

"1130. Come out tonight. You can stay at the house. We can at least start --"

"Not a good idea."

"Mac, please."

"Harm, you have your mother and brother to deal with and you are burying your grandmother tomorrow. This can wait," she ordered. "You and I are not going to do this now."

"It doesn't sound like you want to do it at all."

"I know it sounds that way to you."

"Mac."

"I need to go. I'll see you tomorrow," she hung up before he had a chance to respond.

After that she needed to get away from her apartment, the phone, the deafening silence, the voices in her head. She went to work. She could be distracted, quell the din, fill the void and be alone at work.

"What are you doing here, Mac?" Well not as alone as she wanted to be. She looked up into Sturgis' face. He was not smiling. "I thought you would be with Harm."

"I am not WITH Harm," she said curtly.

"I can see that," he curtly said back.

Mac relented. "I'm sorry. Just can't – I'm sorry."

"What is going on?"

"Do we need to talk about it?" Clearly she didn't want to, but it was sucking the air out of the room; there was nothing else to talk about.

"No."

Mac shook her head. She needed to talk about it – but really didn't want to have to say it out loud. She wanted someone to KNOW what she was thinking and feeling mainly because she didn't know herself. She wanted someone to tell her what to do.

Sturgis took his cue. "Probably trying to figure out why he doesn't seem to be able to say the things you want him to say without some catastrophe or major life event."

Missed the mark a little Sturgis, but a good effort. "What is it that you think I want him to say?" she asked gruffly, trying to put him off.

"That he loves you." Sturgis wouldn't be off put. "He does you know – as much as he can."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that Harm has gone out of his way to not be -- normal. Nothing more normal than telling the woman you love that you love her."

"And you say women are complicated," she shook her head. "Has he told you this? In so many words?"

"Harm and I talk about a lot of things – but women and you specifically are purely superficial topics for us. Particularly after you told me what you told me – I haven't pursued it with him."

"So you really don't know – you are just…" she smiled broadly. "Making excuses for him."

"Excuses?"

"He accused me of that yesterday. He said that I justify his actions."

"Justify? Why would you do that?"

"To help him – or me – I'm not really sure," she realized Harm's point. "I suppose because I need explanations for things that he doesn't feel need explaining."

"Do you believe that?"

"Well there is merit to his argument," she heaved a heavy sigh. "When a defendant doesn't take the stand in his own defense, we are forced to make decisions about the motive of his actions based upon the evidence, the history and our own gut feelings, right?"

"We are instructed not to."

"Legally – maybe, but personally we still do it."

Turner nodded.

"And often those decisions are tainted with our own agendas and help us to reconcile with the decisions we have made."

"That doesn't mean that the decisions we make are wrong – necessarily."

"Not necessarily – but they may not be right either. Have you ever known an innocent man to be convicted or a guilty man to be set free?"

"Point taken," he leaned back in his chair. "So where does that leave you? Sitting at work on your day off when you would rather be …?"

"Rather be anywhere else."

"So go – go to him. Figure it out or end it for good – but put an end to this confusion."

"You might be right," she leaned back in her chair trying on the idea. "On the other hand, would it be fair to talk about it now?"

"You mean because of his grandmother?"

She nodded.

"Does he want to?"

She nodded and shrugged. "He says he does."

"That is more than you have ever gotten in the past," he pointed out. "So you have your answer."

"Do I?"

"The real question is if you still love him or not … and what kind of love it is." Sturgis loved having information and loved having the last word. He left with a nod and a 'think about it' face.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Mac arrived home in the late afternoon. She had made the decision to go see him that night. She was going to let him do the bulk of the talking and then she was going to end the confusion for once and for all. All cards would be laid and the game would be over. She packed quickly opting for a simple dark suit for the funeral rather than her dress uniform. She was about to leave when a knock came to her door. She opened it expecting to see Harm. It was Mic.

"Hallo, Mac," he stepped in without waiting for an invitation and kissed her on the cheek as he passed. "Bet you are surprised to see me."

"Mic? What are you doing here?"

"Left you a ton of messages."

"I counted three – you never said that you were going to be in the states."

"Didn't want you to take off on me," he smiled that knowing smile of his. "I'm back Mac and I have a question. Do you want to marry me?"

Mac sat down as if the legs were completely pulled out from under her. "Mic this is really a bad time for jokes."

He knelt down and took her ring out of his pocket. "I have been holding this for you."

"No Mic. This too out of the blue – even for you."

Mic sat back on the chair. "So you and Harm – working it out?"

"Harm is not the issue and never was." Then she got mad. "You can't come blasting into my life three years later after a couple of postcards and some mysterious phone messages and expect me to be waiting for you. A lot has happened since you walked away from me."

"That is a mistake … a mistake I hope to rectify."

"Mic -."

"Sarah – I asked you to marry me – you said yes –"

"No, Mic. You are not going ride over me like you used to do. I am a different person now."

"You are still as beautiful as ever."

"Mic – you need to go. I was on my way out."

"Where are you going?"

"I have a friend who needs me."

"Going to Harm, eh?" he stood up. "But you are still calling him your friend. You know I would have thought after all this time that you would have figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

"That you are only using him to keep yourself from getting hurt."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You keep your sights set on him and then go out of the way to push him away --- you can blame him for your loneliness and you never have to risk."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"The not so funny part about this is that he does the same thing to you," he laughed. "You two are quite a pair"

"You are wrong," she stated.

"Am I? You've convinced yourself that he is the only man for you, so you won't let anybody else in your life. The GREAT UNREQUITED LOVE – it should be in a story book or on TV."

"That is quite enough Mic."

"I'll say it is. You two are like two positive poles – can't help but want to get together, but it can't be more impossible to try and all you succeed in doing is dragging anyone within range into your mess."

"You better leave."

"You should listen to me, Mac. In the end you will both wind up alone and eventually the blame you unload on the other will ruin anything that you did have – even your friendship. It really is sad. It is down right tragic. Let him go, Mac. Doesn't he deserve better than that? Don't you?"

Mic left. Mac ran. Her trip to Pennsylvania was canceled. She ran until her muscles were numb, until her mind stopped spinning, until she felt like she could think clearly. But as soon as she stopped running, her mind cluttered again. So she ran.

X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X

Harm and his mother were having coffee in the kitchen. The rest of the house was quiet, Sergei was finally sleeping – jet lag caught up with him.

"So, Harm. Tell me about this thing with Mac," was his mother's pointed question.

Harm looked up shocked.

"Sergei told me he walked in on you two having a fight," she explained.

"It was not a fight, it was a discussion," he defended.

"What were you two discussing?"

"Mom, I really don't think I can talk about this now," he got up to fill his cup.

"Why?"

"Because I haven't even talked about it with Mac."

"Do you love her?"

"What does love have to do with it?"

"Quite a bit."

"I don't know – yeah I guess so? But it's not like that."

He mother smiled. "Can't imagine why she would be getting mixed messages from you."

"Who said I was giving mixed messages? Maybe she is giving me mixed messages."

"Harm – I am your mother – you are not so different with the opposite sex now than you were at 14."

"MOM," he took a breath. "Look we are at an impasse – and it's just hard to figure it out."

"What's the trouble?"

"MOM."

"Harm if you can't talk about it with your mother . . . it is not sexual is it? I don't want to hear about --."

"Mom, we are not sleeping together."

The realization hit her. "Well there is your problem right there."

"Why does everyone in the world think that by sleeping together all the other issues will be resolved? Sex is not the magic answer to any and all problems."

"I don't think anyone thinks that," she said calmly. "But what I do think is that you two have to decide to be together, or else there is nothing else to discuss."

"So there is nothing else to discuss. Thanks Mom, I feel so much better."

"Don't sass your mother, boy. I can still slap you into the middle of next week."

"Yes, ma'am."

"So what is the impasse?"

He reluctantly continued. "I haven't given up the idea that we should at least try to be more than friends and she won't give up on the idea that if we did try to be more than friends, more than likely we would lose everything."

"That is a dilemma. With so much to win -."

"There is too much to lose," he finished for her.

"Do you know that is what she is thinking?"

"No," he shrugged. "I mean … not for sure."

"Then don't speak for her," she scolded as only a loving mother can scold. "Don't make excuses for her."

Harm laughed. "I accused her of that yesterday."

"What did she say?"

His smiled faded. "She walked out."

"So the real issue is that you two are avoiding damn near everything."

"I'm here – right here – ready to talk – ready to deal with it all. I can't get her to stay."

"Right. Above reproach," she smiled. "Given all that is going on, I think you are being a little unfair to both you and her."

He nodded.

"What about the other night?"

"What other night?"

"Friday night … you did some pretty fancy avoiding that night."

"Who told you about that? Sergei!!" Harm moved toward the sink.

"You both need to stop."

"I know," he sighed. "But if I had stayed that night it would only have made matters worse."

"Are you sure?"

Harm nodded his head. He wasn't sure though. On option was that if they had woken up together they could have just added on more item to their Let's Not Talk About It list. On the other hand, it might have opened the door that needed to be opened to discuss it all. Maybe he was wrong not to stay, but somehow it just didn't feel right. Well there is enough out there for them NOT to ignore. If only she would meet him half way.