Sorry for the delay in this one - muse hit the wall.
The start of this chapter has kept me up at night for a few months and was mostly written for just as much time.
Not sure how many more chapters this tale will hold. I have a few ideas that fit this story that I will toss in... and I know you're waiting for the other shoe to drop, right?
Not to worry, Farid will not find Mac in the cabin. :)
Chapter 19 - Weakness
He couldn't tell what time it was when something made Harm slip out of bed. It was cold in their bedroom, much too cold given the small fortune he spent on repairs to modernize the cabin. Problems were bound to arise like the heater that sputtered to death in the middle of the night.
Quietly, he slipped out of bed without Mac knowing and made quick work of bringing two large armfuls of logs for the fireplace in the living room and a few for the corner log burner in the bedroom. That would warm the cabin and at least keep them comfortable as they slept.
"Harm? What's wrong?" He was feeding a few extra logs and turned to see her propped up on one elbow, the shadows from the flames dancing across her face and it struck him how beautiful she looked by the firelight.
"Heater is on the fritz." He explained, stoking the wood until the fire was to his liking. Once done he straightened, stripped down and slid back into bed. Harm was shivering, it really had become cold in the room. "Jeez, it's freezing."
"C'mere." Mac threw the blankets over him, scooted close and pulled his body against hers. He was cold, his skin balmy so that she bit back a wince. One leg went over his, in a move reminiscent of a cold, starry night in the middle of a desert only this time she was keeping him warm. "This is a tactical technique used to conserve body heat. Highly classified but very effective."
Her lips came down to his and he felt them curve into a smile. "Classified huh?"
"Mmmm hmmm." One of her hands ran up and down his back and he did start to warm up although it had nothing to do with body heat and everything to do with the woman that held him.
She was kissing him again, barely grazing his lips with hers as she spoke. "It was taught to me by this sexy fighter pilot turned lawyer."
"Former pilot." He corrected and Mac might have missed his response because his own lips moved away from her mouth and were currently driving south.
He got to the valley of her breasts when she raised his head up. "Wait. Stop..Former? What?...Why?"
Harm heaved a sigh, he didn't want to talk about this with her because it meant bringing up the nasty shades of the past and those conversations didn't belong in this space not after the reunion they shared hours earlier. "What time is it?"
"3:45...46…"
He smiled, that internal clock was working as well, another step towards Mac being Mac. Maybe she would forget Nazanin, Farid and all of her ordeals of the past three years. "Listen, let's go back to sleep. I promise I'll tell you about it in the morning."
"No. Oh no, you are not gonna weasel your way out of this conversation. I'm not falling for your tricks." Morning would come and he would distract her until she forgot or it was another one of those things that just festered until it imploded rather badly.
"Mac… I'm tired."
"Right." A man who was tired wouldn't have had his lips half way down to her breasts. She slid her leg off of his, propped a pillow up and leaned against the headboard. "I'm not letting this go."
"Damn." Harm groaned and rolled onto his back, his eyes glaring at the soft shadows across the ceiling. There was still much darkness they needed to confide in each other and although he'd told her parts of his, Mac really didn't know the pain he suffered. "Fine..I told you I spent months in a coma but it was much more. They tried to wake me up and I tried to stay under."
"Because of the dreams?"
"They weren't just dreams. We lived there, you and me... And I was happy and warm and no longer in pain. You were there, we were together." In one of those dreams she was pregnant with his child, her belly swollen and full of life. They walked hand in hand down the beach and Harm was sure his heart would burst from happiness. "I remember hearing voices trying to wake me up and I wouldn't let them until, one day you told me I had to wake up."
There were so many dreams, so many versions of a life they never lived and it pained him to leave Mac alone in his mental abyss while he came to the surface. But she asked him to, like the connection they shared broke through and he fought that too. He didn't want to leave her. "It was medically induced for a while to help me heal and one day you told me to go. I didn't want to leave but one day you told me to find you that I would lose you if I didn't."
And then he woke to pain like he'd never felt. The emotional kind that hurt more than any of the bullets that sliced through his body. "I woke up and you were gone...missing. That kind of pain, I don't wish it on anyone."
Harm hadn't realized the tear sliding down his cheek until she caught it. "Oh Harm, I'm sorry." She slid back down her body wrapping him up in a tight embrace.
"Rehab was a bitch." He said with a snort. "I sort of needed to learn to walk again. My lungs were shit, walking half way down the hall had me wheezing. I had the chance to do quals once I was fit for duty but I declined."
"Why? You love flying."
"Time." It would take days to get to the carrier depending on where it was maneuvering. Days of quals both in daylight and the darkness of night. Weather could interfere, conflicts as well and it wouldn't be the first time a few days at sea turned into weeks due to some fluke. "I didn't want to leave Washington in case you came back… I figured you'd come home...home to me."
"What did you know, if anything?"
"You were MIA but because it was a CIA sanctioned assignment the same rules didn't apply to the military. Webb kept me in the loop for a while but just as fast as you'd pop up on the radar, you'd drop off." He downright refused TAD assignments that would keep him out of town for too long. Even taken mundane cases because it offered him time to look through CIA files Webb had leaked to him.
"I refused my own command. A Captain's billet in London." That made him chuckle, the fact that anyone thought he was leadership material was absurd. He had enough dings on his record and pissed off the SECNAV to the point of exhaustion. Plus, the idea of being The JAG was once an alluring prospect as a young Lieutenant but after spending time in Chegwidden's seat, the politics left a bad taste in his mouth.
"You're insane. You worked hard for that promotion, you're born to lead and be an advocate...At one point you wanted your own command, what changed?"
He brought one hand to her shoulder and slid down over her arm that bore the burn scars that he pulled out from under the covers to kiss. It made her tingle how his lips moved over her skin and he paused on the inside of Mac's wrist only to kiss the palm of her hand. "I let go of that lifeline. It didn't mean anything with you gone. I was miserable without you."
The weight of regret was crushing even though Harm didn't seem saddened or depressed by how his career path had changed. It had been her doing, that need to rush off to Paraguay and put a little space between them. They should have discussed what had happened like rational adults but she was just so angry and hurt and stupid. "I never should have gone with Webb. I was given the option to stay put but, I was angry...I'm sorry, I always seem to run away."
"And I didn't give you reason to stay." His hand came to her face, so thankful that whatever had damaged her arm hadn't touched that flawless skin. He would have loved her anyway but knew the flaws would have barreled through her self esteem. Harm traced her cheeks and lips with his fingers finally leaning in to kiss her. "I wish I could go back. We had something so good and I wrecked it."
"We're both to blame. Not you or me but both of us. I wish you would have trusted me with Singer. I would have understood instead you hid it from me."
He had hidden it, used the late hours of Mac working the judiciary to try and sway Singer's stance. He researched adoption, places she could go to have the baby without it hurting her career and downright stalked the other woman. It was a miracle he wasn't still in Leavenworth. "Would you have divorced me?"
Mac threw her leg back over him and scooted down lower into the covers so that skin met skin. He was warm now and she loved how his arm came around her waist to bring them closer. "No. Divorcing you never crossed my mind. I love you too much for that." She rubbed the tip of her nose against his and sighed when his lips captured hers.
"I never took you on a proper honeymoon. I need to fix that at some point." Harm said while pressing tiny kisses to her lips. He had always wanted a tropical honeymoon for them but, to Mac, the reality had been so much better.
"I like this. Small cabin, cozy bed, a fireplace, my sexy husband...Just the two of us...Kinda sounds perfect to me."
God, she was smiling again. His smile that Harm believed she wore only for him. He wanted to see more of that, it was a step closer to ridding himself fully of Nazanin and the damage she'd done to their lives. "This place is yours, you know?"
"Mine? How?"
It had gone on the market shortly after he returned to JAG and Harm sank a small fortune into buying and repairing it all in the hopes of one day bringing her back. "I bought it. We're married, what's mine is yours."
Mac looked around at what essentially was their first home. It wasn't what she envisioned - not that two story house with wrap around porch and white picket fences but, the cabin was where they spent their first night as husband and wife. It meant much more than any home ever would. "Ask me who I am."
Harm smiled, that little bit of theirs began in this cabin, in this bed. It became her 'thing' when he had a rough day or just when she knew he needed remembering that they were married. "Who are you?"
"Your wife." Mac kissed him, the slow sultry way that made Harm realize there would be little sleeping that night. "And your wife wants her husband to make love to her again." Her hand had drifted over his abdomen feeling the tight muscles tent and ripple. She took hold of his length stroking him gently. "I forgot how bad we always wanted each other."
"I think you remembered quite well that I liked you on top." There was that smug, arrogant tone so deliciously sexy. But then he had a point because earlier she let him recover he felt Mac's mouth on him. Her lips wrapped around his length pleasuring Harm tortuously slow until she stopped and straddled his waist.
"Slow this time, Harm." Mac said, angling his hardness between her folds. "I just want to feel you."
"Yes." Harm tilted his hips, pressing them forward until her warm, silky depths sheathed him completely.
Slivers of daylight snuck in through the top of the plywood covering the window, managing to peak in between a spot where the curtain hadn't closed properly to cast a glow on the back wall. Mac turned her head to face the light and made a mental note to ask Harm about the broken window which she believed correlated to the injury on her hand. Broken glass, she suspected and he had mentioned a window being replaced later in the week.
An odd tingling through her body kept Mac from falling asleep again; an electric kind of charge that felt mostly ominous like something was about to happen that she had no way of preventing. It was a sort of adrenaline rush that ran rampant through her veins making Mac shiver despite the warm, male body curled up against her.
Harm. His hand instinctively reached for her and tried to prevent her escape despite sleeping deeply. Some of the darkness beneath his eyes had dissipated and she figured this had been the first night he'd actually gotten some good sleep - exhausted as she made him.
Dear God, she loved him. Really loved him in that kind of way that made her tummy do little flip flops and sent her heart racing. His kisses were like a meeting between Heaven and Earth. His lovemaking was earth shattering, the perfect joining of two imperfect souls. And when he loved her it was chaotic, reckless, loving but most of all, complete. He made her life come to life and to think they almost lost each other forever.
Mac wondered if that was where her odd feelings stemmed from. Was it the thought of losing him? Or the ugly notion that, at some point life will go back to normal and this time and space would disappear into nothing but memories. And what of the gap in her mind filled with mysteries she was too terrified to unravel? Time hadn't just slipped away, it stood still as if someone had hit stop and erase at the same time locking her in some sort of mental prison.
Curiosity fueled the want to know what was missing all those years; fear prevented Mac from closing her eyes and finding the answers. So instead, she lay in Harm's embrace hoping that the vestiges of sleep would take her but it never did. Carefully, Mac slipped out of his arms, used the head and dressed without waking him. She found herself walking across the cabin taking in the smallest details that she remembered from before. The fireplace was still the same with different colors of rock and stone that made up the hearth and up to the ceiling. Originally the cabin had the owners family crest hanging above the mantle and now she found two one of which she knew bore the MacKenzie Sigel with the words 'Luceo Non Uro' - Latin for 'I shine not burn.' - the family 'motto.'
New furnishings decorated the living room, a sofa and two matching armchairs of dark brown leather with heavy wood. Beneath the coffee table she spotted a stack of board games and some paperback books. Mac cracked a grin finding 'Scrabble' at the top of the pile and pulled it free from where the box was wedged. She remembered the words they left one another with the letter tiles. Messages of love or even silly words that forced him to reach for the dictionary to find their meaning.
"Hmm." She pulled the board game out of the box and scattered the tiny letter tiles atop the coffee table choosing five to spell one word across the center of the board. It was simple, not anything that would cause Harm to search for a dictionary which she found next to the other game boxes.
The inviting nature of the furniture had her sitting down for a moment, just a couple of minutes until the adrenaline began to surge again and Mac began to pace. She walked to the kitchen finding that it was remodeled as well, modern appliances, new cabinets and table. She filled a glass and drank it down in three gulps but not even the cool water could calm the heat in her veins.
From the window she saw a large wooden stump, the blade of an axe dug into the edge and several logs were strewn about. She had a flash of memories, recent ones where Harm would cut logs with one clean whack over and over. The idea seemed therapeutic and Mac grabbed her coat, slipped on a pair of boots bracing herself for the crisp fall air.
Mac shivered as the wind swirled about and snuck its way beneath her jacket. It was downright cold and she remembered they were much farther north than Washington. Part of her wanted that nice, warm bed, curled up against Harm who could no doubt heat things back up.
Instead, her eyes were laser focused on that axe whose blade shimmered in the morning light. She walked to it, grabbed the handle and gave it a hard yank but it would not budge. She tried again but the force of pulling hard made her hands slip off the wet handle and sent Mac backwards to land on her six. "Damnit."
Mac glared at the axe now, imaging Harm slicing through logs as if they were butter. That competitive edge they shared forced her to stand and try again. She put one foot on the stump using it as leverage to finally pull the axe out.
It was much heavier than she thought and when Mac placed a log on the stump it took four passes to make contact. The cut wasn't even or pretty or accurate, her arms began to ache and her hands shook but she took another swipe.
Each landing of the blade on wood was painful as it sent a vibration up her arms that amplified the ache in her muscles. It felt like the first time back at the gym after a long, long break. And though the cut on her palm began to protest, Mac kept chopping over and over until she managed to slice fully through one log.
Satisfied and exhausted she slammed the axe into the stump and caught herself from falling over. It felt good to ease the rush, it dimmed the more the blade cracked wood. Mac would have continued but her arms felt heavy and had been shaking as she took the final two passes. Again she wondered how she was so physically weak. The truth was hidden in her mind, she knew but trying to access those blurred memories was a frightening proposition.
Mac dropped onto the stump and glanced up to find it had been drizzling. Any warmth that her body had developed from physical exertion was seeping out and she began to shiver. Thunder rumbled in the distance and she felt the edges of her vision start to tunnel, her head begin to spin. She wanted to cry out for Harm but, instead she rose to her feet, grabbed half a handful of logs and hurried back to the cabin.