Mac looked at herself in the mirror. Properly for the first time in weeks. She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved cotton T-shirt in a lovely cream colour. She would wrap herself in a deep blue jacket before she would leave. All of the clothes had been dropped off by Bud just yesterday, courtesy of Harriet. To Harm's exasperation, the Roberts' refused to take any money for the rather significant pile of new clothing for Mac.
"We should have noticed something was wrong sooner," Bud argued and looked miserable at the same time. "This is the very least we can do. And we both just hope that you can forgive us, ma'am. Well, Harriet is no longer at the office, but I was there every day. I suppose my own affairs, the kids and the kids that are coming, just completely took over my mind. What a fantastic friend am I! I should have noticed. I should have known..."
"Don't, Bud," Mac shook her head. "Stop flagellating yourself over something which was completely beyond your control. I was the maker of my own downfall," she added somewhat bitterly and closed her eyes for a moment. She always did that, Harm had noticed, when the memories threatened to overwhelm her. His own knee-jerk reaction was to drop everything and drown her in a bear-hug, but lately, he had started to control himself. He was always there if she wanted him to step in, but she was making a conscious effort at conquering her demons on her own again. So he let her be. For now.
Bud still looked like a kicked puppy when he left shortly after. Mac was glad he was not privy to her tragedy in all its terrifying glory. Harm had assured her he had given only very basics to their friends and left out her being raped altogether. She could confide in them in time if she wanted to.
Now, almost a week after they made love, Mac finally found enough courage to slip out of Harm's clothes. She felt immensely vulnerable as she neatly folded up the oversized sweatpants and his old Annapolis T-shirt, almost as if she was stripping out of her armour. But she decided that things had to move forward. Slowly, perhaps, but she needed to take charge of her own existence yet again. Now that she was his and he was hers, irrevocably so, she finally found the want and motivation to live again, not just exist within the vacuum of her insecurities. She was learning that needing him was not a bad thing, but she also longed to be more than just somebody he had to care for. She wanted to be his support too. When he had appeared home with her duffel bags full of memorabilia he had rescued from her flat, it felt like a final break from her past. She did not berate him when he admitted wreaking havoc to her place. Instead, she cried desperately and clung to him, grateful that those little things she cared for were hers again. She knew now she would never, ever step inside that apartment again.
A visit to a landlord was one of the reasons why she was now standing in front of that mirror. Harm was at work and she did not tell him she was planning on actually going out. It would be for the very first time since he had brought her here that she would pass the threshold. With a deep breath out she gave herself a nod in the mirror. She looked fine. She had gathered her hair, longer than it had been in years, in a high ponytail in the back. She had no make-up because that was not an item Harm had thought of and so she was without anything to paste onto her face. But that was OK. Still a little gaunt, her face had its usual colour, her eyes looked bright enough and her lips were soft. Perhaps because Harm had made a habit of pressing his own to them at any given opportunity. At the thought, Mac actually spotted a slight blush coming to her cheeks.
She was shaky when she stepped out of the door and had to continually remind herself to take deep, cleansing breaths when she crossed the street and hailed a taxi. She stepped into a café and had a little nervous cry at a small table in one of the corners. But she pressed on. She almost changed her mind when she got in front of her old building. She cried some more in the hallway. Twenty minutes later she practically ran out, without the key she had handed over to the landlord as soon as she signed the documents necessary to terminate her lease. No, she would not be moving anything from the flat itself, the landlord was free to sublet with everything that was inside. And the gentleman who had been around... she did not want to discuss, but perhaps the landlord should call the police once he decided to evict him. She did not care.
She spent an hour sitting on a bench in a nearby park, breathing deep and getting increasingly colder by a minute. She felt her anxiety rising and wished to be back at Harm's place. Home. She would get into his clothes again and curl around his pillow. But not yet. Not yet.
She got up. It had started to snow she noticed. She wanted to admire the snowflakes, gently setting on the ground and branches, the first snow of the winter. But there was no time. There was one more important appointment to keep.
Stepping into the JAG headquarters twenty minutes later felt bittersweet. She could count on the fingers of one hand the times she had entered the building in civvies and with the visitor tag pinned to her chest. Yet here she was. Unlike the visit to her apartment, this venture filled her with a sense of comfortable numbness and almost calm. And most importantly the sense that what she was about to do was right.
A week. It had been a week since Meg had her heart broken and trampled upon. Harm's awful words, his abrupt leaving, her children confused and upset at finding her sobbing just minutes later, all that haunted her. It took all of her will power to focus on her job and even that failed from time to time. Actually every single time she found herself in the same room as Commander Rabb. Awkward did not even begin to describe it. He was cold and formal. Proper to the point of driving her insane, he insisted on calling her by her rank and dismissed her from his presence every single time she tried to talk about it, about them and about what could have, should have been. With every dismissal, he only mounted her frustration, her unhappiness and her humiliation. She knew that by now the whole office had caught up something was wrong and she hated every single look from Bud, Coates and the others. She wanted them to stop looking.
Distracted and lost in thought, she briskly paced the hallway and almost collided with a visitor.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," she apologized and meant to be on her way when she realized she was looking straight into the face of the principal object of her resentment. Mac, too, seemed a bit throw off her stride. She took a moment to recover. The two women looked at each other and they both knew there was much to say but perhaps none of it could be expressed. Finally, Meg just nodded curtly and walked on hurriedly. She stopped dead in her tracks when she heard her nemesis calling to her. She turned her face a study of indifference.
"Yes?"
"I don't know what you think you know," Mac said calmly. "But whatever you think about Clayton Webb, I can guarantee you it is not true."
"Anything else?" Meg almost hissed.
"Yes. Harm said you have children. For their own sakes keep Webb away from all of you. Please."
With that Sarah Mackenzie simply turned towards the bullpen and left.
How dare she. How dare she?! That bitch! Meg stomped into her office... Sarah Mackenzie's office... that thought really only topped her anger... and shut the door behind her with a thud.
Make a plan, she urged herself. Make a plan like you always had. Little steps. And you will achieve anything. She sat down and closed her eyes, hoping nobody would walk in and demand anything from her for a few minutes. She needed to calm down, to compose herself. To be completely honest with herself, she realized that ever since she had confessed her love for Harm something was happening to her. She was changing. She had always been a person of a sunny disposition. An optimist, a calming influence. What was happening to her? It was as if her confession had triggered something inside her - something primal and demanding, that she had kept on a short leash for years. She told Harm she loved him. Didn't that make him hers to claim? And from his initial response, wasn't it clear that he just needed to sort something out?
She knew they were not dating but she felt that she had a right to him. She had loved him for the past nine years. She was ready to fight and to sacrifice. With bitterness, she now realized that she would take whatever crumbs he would give her and she would simply make it all work with the power of her will. So what if he pined after Mackenzie? She was not selfish enough to think anyone could tame and bind Harmon Rabb Junior and they would always have to put up with his other passions. She was willing to do that and never complain. She loved him. She was perfect for him.
So why didn't he see it?
There was one thing she did decide to do though. Or rather not to do. She was done with this Webb person. She could not care one iota about what Mackenzie said, but Harm warned her and him she trusted. She actually felt a bit ashamed at the fact her first thought, when she was told Mackenzie had been raped, was "she made it up or she deserved it". She had seen the woman when Harm retrieved her from that awful motel and she had seen enough of rape victims to know it was true. And no matter what she also knew that to violate anyone like that was an unspeakable crime. Webb had already called, demanding to know how "Sarah" reacted to his gift of her own clothes and was not happy to hear the answer. He wanted more information, more meetings, more planning. She told him she had better things to do than to patch up his love life.
It was true.
She had to patch up her own.
She wouldn't rely on any help from Webb. There were things she could do to throw a wrench into whatever fantasy land Mackenzie had lured Harm into on her own.
Step one: be professional. Without reserve.
When Harm stepped out of the court he may have been sour from getting his proverbial six handed by Sturgis that time, but he forgot all about Major Holmes and his disorderly conduct when he saw Mac waiting for him. At first, he thought he had conjured her up in his mind, but soon enough she was so close he could smell her and discreetly touch the back of her hand. She was real and beautiful and right there.
"Hi," he said, feeling a silly smile blooming on his face.
"Hi," she answered shyly and her eyes were shining.
"What are you doing here? Is everything alright?" he inquired, but before she could answer, Sturgis butted in on the intimate moment.
"Mac!" he exclaimed. It was almost surreal to see the joy on his face. He and Mac never became close friends. There had always been an underlying sense of mistrust and at times sheer dislike. She hated his trait of feeling entitled to everybody's privacy. He hated her unpredictability. Now, however, he was glad to see her. "How are you?"
"Fine," she gave him a little smile. "Just stopping by to check if the building is still standing."
"Are you coming back? Is that why you are here? To check in with the General and file some paperwork?"
"No, not today," she shook her head.
"Pity, I would enjoy some real competition instead of constantly beating this guy," he said, giving Harm a significant look. It was meant as a jest and Harm did smile, but there was no warmth in his eyes. The time Sturgis had served as acting JAG damaged their friendship significantly. They may never get it back.
Sturgis left then to prepare for an interview with a witness and Harm and Mac found themselves alone in the corridor for the moment.
"What happened?" Harm asked again. "How come you are here? You never said anything this morning."
"I... I had to talk to the General," she said simply, her eyes cast down.
"About what?"
She surprised him then. She hugged him. Simply slid her arms around his torso so he had no choice but to return her embrace.
"I am sorting myself out," she murmured against the uniform jacket. Just as quickly she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him softly. It was a lingering, sweet kiss full of promise. To say that he was shocked would be an understatement. True enough, she was not in uniform, but everybody knew her here and what they just did could potentially start an avalanche of legal troubles.
"What was that for?"
"I just felt like it," she shrugged her shoulders. "I am trying to do more of what I feel like doing. I'll get out of your hair now, sailor. Come home soon, please?"
In response, he kissed her back, before she fled into the elevator.
He could hardly wait to get back home and to her. He had already planned the evening out. He would stop by the bakery to have something with enough sugar to put them both into a coma, just this once. And no ordering in. No, he would cook for her. Perhaps chicken on pomegranate? He had bought two more things for her to wear to bed. Mint-coloured pyjamas with sleepy sloths resting on pink clouds. And the other one was a white nightgown with spaghetti straps, lacy bosom, with material floating gently to the ankles. She could choose. If he was frank with himself, he wanted to see her in both those things.
He was just packing up for the day, stuffing the files into his briefcase, when Coates burst into his office, breathless and pale.
"Sir! Oh Sir!"
"What is it, Jen?"
"Sir, I just got a call from one of our neighbours. The building! The building!"
Cold dread began to spread through him.
"What happened?" he managed to ask, his throat dry.
"It's on fire!"
