Stranded for Christmas
Summary: A freak snowstorm strands Harm and Mac together. (This would replace 'The 4% Solution' in the JAG timeline.)
Notes: This is my entry for the "I'd Like You For Christmas" challenge! This was written on my phone, so apologies in advance for any typos.
Part One
Christmas Eve, 2004
I can't remember the last time we got this much snow. Well, this much snow at one time. Snow wasn't even the forecast today, and then in the middle of the day we all heard an exclamation of 'oh my God, it's snowing!' and everyone hurried to stare out of the nearest window in wonderment.
Well, almost everyone.
Everyone but Mac.
I feel bad for her, but it's also frustrating to see her closing herself off from those who cares about her. She's been distant since the night of the Admiral's Dining Out. I mean, I get it. I know she wants children, and I can only imagine what a blow it was to learn there's only a 4% chance it will ever happen. I think I'm the only one who knows what's actually wrong, but everyone has seen the change in her the past few months. It would take someone incredibly oblivious not to notice how quiet and withdrawn she is, or how little she eats - and how much weight she's lost. She's become a shell of herself, and it's hard to watch.
The rest of the staff is excited about actually having a white Christmas - the first since 1969, interestingly enough - but she's retreated to the privacy of her own office and has shut the door.
The whole situation is even more frustrating, because I promised her I would be there for her, and she's not letting me. And I can only have a door shut in my face so many times before I want to give up. But I can't give up. I can't let her down like every other person in her life always has. And I don't want to let her down. I'm so tired of this nearly decade long dance we've been dancing. I want her to let me in, and I want to be there for her. I want to hold her, and comfort her while she cries. And then when she starts to feel better, I want to discuss our options for having a baby. I still want that with her. I don't care if we use another egg or another uterus or try IVF. The how doesn't matter - all that matters is making good on the promise I made her five and a half years ago.
And it's not just about wanting to keep a promise. It's more than that with her - and it always has been. That's why I set that damned deal so far in the future. As soon as I realized my feeling for her were stronger than friendship (which happened sometime between the psychotic poachers and the night on the docks in Norfolk…) I knew she was it. It wouldn't be casual or easy - not with her. She would be forever, and back then I knew I wasn't ready. I want a baby with her; I want a family and a whole life with her. She just has to let me in.
The snow is coming down hard now, and there are already four inches on the ground. Cresswell pokes his head out of his office around 3:00 and tells us all to head home early if we'd like, and to have a merry Christmas. There was a frenzy of bag packing and hugs and goodbyes and 'merry Christmases' before I could even wrap my head around what just happened. The office emptied out at a comically fast pace, and pretty soon the only ones left behind were the General, Mac and myself.
At least I think she's still here. Her office door has been shut and her blinds have been closed all day.
I decide to stay because, as bad as it sounds, I have nowhere else to go. I'm already off for the whole next week, and that time is going to be hard enough to fill. Besides, the Lexus has four wheel drive, and don't mind driving in the snow. Grams made sure to teach me before I even had my drivers license, and Belleville always ended up with at least thirty inches a year. I stay and work, and get a shocking amount done with zero distractions. This quiet is good for my productivity, and I make a mental note to work in a quieter space more often. Maybe I'll look into booking one of the study rooms in the library when I've got something especially pressing.
My desk is nearly clear when there's a gentle tap on my doorframe. I look up, and I'm surprised to see that it's her. Of course it's her - there's no one else here, but she hasn't reached out to me in months, so I'm surprised by the overture.
"I'm surprised you're still here," she says softly.
I shrug and lean back in the chair. "I don't have any plans tonight, so I figured I'd catch up on paperwork." She frowns and starts to fidget with the strap of her purse. She looks like she wants to say something, and I wait as patiently as I can, but then the frown fades and she shakes her head. And I'm disappointed. For a second I thought she was about to confide in me.
"Ah," she says, and it's silent again. "I'm heading home," she finally says. "I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Mac." She smiles, but I can tell it's forced, and she looks to the elevator and starts to walk away. I watch her for a moment, and then shake my head and jump to my feet. "Mac, wait!" I see her freeze, and I hurry to catch her. She turns to look at me, and I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I have no idea what to say, or what I even want to say.
She cocks her head to the side, and I feel my cheeks begin to heat. "Are - are you going to be okay driving home?"
For the briefest of seconds I think I see disappointment flash over her face, but it's gone before I can be sure, and the mask she's worn for months is back in place. "I'll be fine," she says softly. "I'm sure the main roads are okay."
I'm not as sure, but I don't argue with her. "Okay," I say. "Be careful?"
She nods. "Yeah, of course." She presses the elevator button and steps into the car. "See you next year, Harm."
"See you ne…" The elevator doors close before I finish my sentence, and she's gone.
I don't stay much longer once she leaves. Seeing her - her sad eyes and forced smile - have obliterated my concentration, and I finally begin packing up my things to head home. I do stop by the general's office to tell him goodbye, and then I start heading out. There's a ton of snow now - probably eight inches, and wince when I realize I have nothing to brush my car off with. I use my hand to get it off the driver's door so it doesn't fall inside when I open the door, and then I grab a CD case to finish the job. It takes forever, but eventually the windows are finally clear enough, and the car is warmed up, and I climb in to head home. Home for yet another solitary Christmas.
Mom and Frank asked me to come out - like they do every year, but I politely declined - like I do every year. I like Frank; I really do. And we even started to bond after he helped and supported me with the first Russia trip. But spending this one day with them feels like a betrayal to my father. It makes mom crazy, but I think he understands. I never go to Belleville, because grams isn't home this time of year. About ten years ago she decided the was tired of winter and bought a condo in Florida, and now she's there every November until spring. I could always go over to Bud and Harriet's, but things aren't as easy between us as they once were, and I feel like it's better for everyone not to spend the holiday together anymore.
The roads are terrible, and I feel like an absolute idiot staying at the office for long. No one with half a brain would be out in this. I've barely gone five miles, and I've already seen four people stuck in the snow. I stop to offer help, but they all say they have help coming, so I keep going. I'm not even ten miles from the office when I see a car nearly on its side in a ditch, and I go cold all over when I realize it's a tiny, red Corvette. It's just like Mac's car. I cross the snow covered highway as carefully as I can, and pull up as close to the Corvette as I can get. I check the roads, then climb out of my car and move toward it.
"Mac?"
I strain to hear her voice, even though I'm holding out hope it's not her. After all, I'm sure there are tons of cars that are this make and model.
"Harm?"
Shit. It's her. I move as fast as I can to the passenger side and peer in. She's leaning back against the seat and her eyes are closed, but the airbag isn't deployed and her windows aren't broken. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she says, and rolls the passenger side window down. "I slid off the road."
"I can see that." She turns her head to look at me and I am so damned relieved to see annoyance in her beautiful eyes. "I'll help you out." She nods and unbuckles the seatbelt.
"How are we going to do this?"
I think for a moment and give the car a gentle shake. "It seems pretty steady. Try to stand up on the door and give me your hand." She grabs her purse and crosses it over her chest, and then does as I ask, but I can't reach her hand and I swear under my breath. "Try standing on something else. The console maybe." She takes an easy step and balances on the console and reaches up again. This time I'm able to touch her hand, and I try to get closer to her without falling. I wrap my hand around her wrist, and I'm able to start pulling her. I almost lose my grip at one point, but I finally manage to pull her from the window and up the short distance to fairly level ground.
She stands up and lets out a breath. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," I say. I look down and notice she's not wearing shoes, and before I can talk myself out of anything, I lift her in my arms and hurry to my car. I open the passenger door and set her down, and realize she's looking at me with a stunned smile expression. "You're barefoot," I say.
"Oh, right." She looks down at her feet and then back at me. "Thanks," she says again.
"Anytime."
I start my car up and begin driving to her apartment. It takes forever thanks to the snow and an increasing amount of stranded vehicles, but we finally make it, and both let out deep sighs of relief."
"Thanks again," she says softly.
"Anytime, Mac." We stare at each other for a moment, and I reach over and gently tug at a loose strand of hair. "You don't have to thank me, though. When I told you I'm always here, I meant it."
She looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn't. Instead, she nods and reaches for the door handle. "Want me to help you up," I blurt out.
"No, thanks," she says. "You need to hurry up and get home before it gets worse. I'll be fine."
I don't want to leave her, but I know better than to push, so I just nod and watch as she opens the door and winces when her feet hit the snow. I watch her run to her front door, and I wait until I see her light go on, and then I put the car in drive to head home.
I only manage to make it about twenty feet before I swerve to avoid hitting a lowered Honda Civic stranded in the middle of the road, and I end up stuck in a large snow bank.
"Shit."
I try to reverse it, I try to floor it. I get out and take the trusty CD case to try and clear some of the snow from my tires, but it's no use. I'm really stuck.
I grab my briefcase and dig around for my cellphone and then mutter a whole string of expletives that would make any sailor blush. I don't have my phone, and I know it's still plugged into the charger I keep in my office.
I'm not sure if Mac will welcome the intrusion, but with no phone and a stuck car, she's my only reasonable option. I grab my wallet and keys, lock the doors, and turn back to walk to her place.
I'm fucking freezing by the time I get there, and I'm practically shivering when I knock on her door. She takes a few minutes to answer, and her eyes widen with surprise when she does.
"Harm? Are you okay?"
I shake my head. "Can I come in?"
End Part One