Disclaimer: Don't own'em.
A/N: I haven't yet responded to the January challenge, and the scene on the ferry suddenly started bugging me. A lot. So here we are.
This picks up right after Harm tells Mac she wouldn't go topless in front of him, would she?
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Tectonic
"Is that a request?"
"Mac."
"Right." She gave a thin smile. "What was I thinking. We're supposed to ignore it."
"Where is this coming from?" He didn't understand. Why was she bringing this up here, now? His palms were beginning to sweat, he wasn't ready for this. "Why are you saying this?"
She shrugged, looked away. "I thought maybe..." She shook her head quickly, dismissively. "Well, it obviously doesn't matter what I thought. You don't want me. Let's forget this happened." The words rushed out quickly. She was embarrassed. "Where are you taking me for dinner?"
The hurt, the rejection on her face was painful to see. He could be nothing but honest at the unchecked candor in her expression, even if she refused to look him in the eye, even if he wanted nothing more than to avoid the crash and burn she was steering them towards.
"I do. I want you, Mac." He tightened his grip on the railing behind him. The ache in his chest swelled, then ebbed; her pull always calling to him, his heart resisting her. "There are times I can't look at you without thinking what it would be like with us." He looked away when her eyes caught his, fixed his gaze on the deck. "But that doesn't mean it would work. I'm not good at this kind of thing, Mac." He forced himself to look at her. "At ... relationships."
Her expression was completely serious, the challenge evident in her voice, in the tight set of her shoulders. "Neither am I."
He was startled by her response.
"That doesn't bother you?" He didn't think she'd take this so lightly.
"I always figured I wasn't very good at it because I hadn't found the right person yet." She paused, stared out over the water. Her gaze softened, her voice low when she spoke, "I don't know much about love, Harm, but I think maybe it's what makes people work so hard at being with someone instead of parting ways, instead of giving up." She searched his eyes, the expression in hers riveting. "I can do that with you."
It sounded so simple when she put it like that. And it washed over him then, the truth of the matter.
He could do that for her. He didn't ever want to lose her. That was the heart of it.
They just stared at each other for a long moment, the waves lapping against the hull of the ship, a warm breeze whispering in their hair.
He put his hand out in invitation. She accepted, her slender hand tentatively slipping into his. He couldn't explain what it was he felt at that moment, nervous and terrified and excited and elated, all stirring, bubbling inside of him, threatening to overflow.
He tugged her hand, pulling her closer, closer still until her body touched his and her lips were close enough to kiss, her eyes close enough to lose himself in. He rested his forehead against hers, felt her warm breath on his face. He tilted his head, his lips tracing her cheek, skimming over the corner of her mouth. He felt her free hand slide up his chest. And then he kissed her, slowly, carefully, not trusting that it could be like this, that he could do this with her, that she was letting him. That he was letting himself.
The horn bellowed from the head of the ferry, warning of their arrival, its loud blare causing them both to jump slightly. His hands were on her hips, and he liked how it felt to have them there.
"We're here," He said unnecessarily, awkwardly, not knowing what to do.
She nodded, her hands on his chest, her nose brushing lightly against his cheek. He liked how that felt, too.
"What do we do?" She pulled back to look up at him, her eyes sparkling with the barest hint of a smile, though he could see the slight insecurity lurking beneath. "I've never thought it this far ahead."
He chuckled. It was a fair point. Neither had he. But the way she was teasing him, the smile in her eyes, it wasn't so different. And it made him feel like maybe it could all be that simple. "We have dinner." He suggested, trying to find the familiar ground that had housed their friendship for four years, just for comfort. "I charm you, which comes naturally to me, and you pretend to be charmed, which may require some effort on your part."
She gave him a smile, full of mischief. "You aren't wearing your dress white or gold wings, so it may be slightly easier to be charmed by you."
He laughed, and let his fingers trace the impish curve of her lip. Maybe it didn't have to be all that complicated after all.
The horn on the ferry sounded again as the ship docked, and the loud, jangling sounds from Luna Park filled the night. He glanced over his shoulder at the dock where he'd initially planned to enlist Mac's help in re-enacting the murder.
"Um..." He faced her, wondering if she'd mind making a quick stop on the dock, and then he'd have to ask around for some place to take her for dinner. Carnival food probably wouldn't cut it anymore.
"What is it?"
"I was actually ... well, would you mind if we just stopped by Luna Park?"
She glanced over his shoulder at the brightly lit park, then back at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "Okay." She said slowly, not understanding.
"I just wanted to make a quick stop, verify the defendant's story on what happened that night."
She stared at him, her mouth actually falling open with surprise. He was about to hastily recant, and offer some alternative, when to his surprise she started laughing.
It was his turn to frown. "What?"
"What did you have planned for dinner?" She asked, still chuckling.
"Um ... a hotdog?" He hazarded, feeling more and more sheepish at how amusing she was finding all of this.
Her laughter renewed. "You are something else, Harm!"
He didn't know what that meant.
"C'mon, the ferry's docking." She stepped away from him, and waited for him to get up from his perch on the railings. "Let's go re-enact a murder."
"You don't mind?" He was confused, and felt a little thrown. He wondered if she was searching for the familiar ground of friendship when things seemed to have suddenly shifted. "I can ask around for a nice place to eat dinner afterwards."
"I don't mind," She waived away his concern. "Although, you could've told me this when you called to set up a meeting time for dinner. I'm hardly dressed for the occasion."
"You are now dressed for dinner afterwards, though." He said, admiring her profile. Would she really go topless for him? A thought struck as he stood to walk with her towards the exit. "Would you have come if I had told you about what I had planned?"
"Probably not." She conceded.
"Then it's a good thing I didn't tell you." He stated, vindicated.
"Re-enact a murder, eat a hot dog." She shook her head at him in exasperation. "I'm on vacation in Australia, Harm – I don't think hot dogs are a specialty here; isn't sausage sizzle the closest thing..." She gave him a pointed look. "Did you really think I'd accept that kind of offer?"
It was probably wise not to say anything in response. But he'd never been accused of being wise.
"To spend time with me? Sure you would've accepted." He shrugged, infusing a heavy dose of arrogance, trying to bait her.
She rolled her eyes. "And what were you going to eat, Mr. Practically a Vegetarian?"
"A corndog?" He teased.
She stopped and turned to study him. "Really?"
He cleared his throat at the challenge brewing in her eyes. "Well, I would've found something."
A devilish smile overran her features. "You know what? The park sounds like a great idea for an evening." She resumed walking. "I'm partial to rollercoasters and Ferris wheels."
He laughed, "You just want to see me eat a corn dog," He called after her.
"That too," She threw over her shoulder.
He caught up to her, and took her hand in his, settling it on the crook of his elbow and letting his hand rest on top of hers. She looked up at him, warmth in her eyes, a slight flush on her cheeks in response to the gesture. It almost made him change his mind about working on the case tonight.
"Anything else the lady desires?" He thought he might have to make a concerted effort to treat her specially, after years of practice treating her as only a friend. He wondered if she thought the same.
"Cotton candy. Popcorn. And, what the heck, I'll have a corndog too."
"How about three of each?" He offered gallantly.
She laughed. "Suits me just fine. And you have to win me tons of stuffed animals."
He preened automatically at the challenge. "Consider it done." He flexed his bicep and raised an eyebrow at her, "This here alone is guaranteed to get you something at the hammer and bell game."
"And I get to win you something at the shooting games." She declared.
"If you think you can." He challenged her.
She was never one to back down from a dare, and this proved no exception.
"Not only will I win a prize at the shooting games, but I'll win it by beating you." She poked his shoulder.
"You're on." He grinned; he had her right where he wanted her. "Loser has to buy breakfast tomorrow morning."
She faltered in her step, but was quick to recover. "Aren't we being a tad presumptuous?"
He shook his head. "Nope. You agreed to be charmed by me, remember?"
She laughed. "You still have your work cut out for you." She then tugged playfully on his elbow. "Although I think hotdogs and a stuffed bear make for a pretty good start."
"I think maybe we're starting with a lot more than that." He said optimistically, the road ahead for the two of them seeming wider. Although JAG would be something they'd have to talk about at some point. Hopefully they'd make it to that point. He had faith they just might. What she'd said was true, he knew no one had stuck by him like she had. And he would do the same for her. Maybe that is all it was.
He felt her go quiet next to her, and pulled himself out of his thoughts to glance at her. She was studying the floor planks as they exited the ferry.
"Mac?"
Her eyes flicked to his.
"What are you thinking?" He asked.
"I, ah..."
He stopped, and faced her fully. "Talk to me."
She took a deep breath. "I'm a bit nervous. About this."
"Nervous?" He pushed down the insecurity rising in his gut. If she was nervous ... he couldn't go halfway with her.
"I didn't think you'd say yes. I was ready for you to refuse."
He didn't say anything, knowing he would have, had been about to.
"You don't like to let people in." She continued, by way of explanation.
"I think you managed to sneak in without my even realizing it."
She smiled at that.
"So, we are doing this?" It was a tentative question.
"You thinking of changing your mind?" He kidded, trying to wrestle down his unease.
"I'm worried you might be." Her sober reply was comforting to him; she wasn't in it for halves.
"I'm not. I wouldn't." He shrugged, looking at her intently. "We have to figure some things out, like telling the admiral." He paused, wondered how to say what he had to say. He knew Mac thought he was gun-shy when it came to commitment, to opening up. "Mac, I ... I'm nervous too. I don't want to lose you—"
"You won't ever lose me." She took her hand in his, squeezed it tight.
He smiled at her unequivocal confidence, hoping it was true, remembering what she'd said about love. Maybe if he just waited for things to be perfect, waited until he had everything in order, he'd just be waiting for years, forever.
But god, it worried him, getting into something he didn't have full control over. In his past entanglements, he was never the one to have more invested in the relationship than his partner. He felt it would be different here.
"Hey," She ran her fingers through his hair, her touch calming, arousing. "What are you thinking?"
He didn't know how to put it in words.
She studied his face, her dark eyes drawing him in as they tended to do. She took a step forward, and reached up to kiss him. Her lips soft, opening up to him, her mouth welcoming. In that touch he felt everything she couldn't put into words either. He kissed her as intensely, those same feelings bubbling and stirring furiously inside of him.
"Let's take it one step at a time." She whispered, pulling back to look at him.
He nodded, running his hands up and down her back in long, smooth strokes. He'd never taken anything one step at a time; he dove in headfirst, submerged himself completely. Could he be tentative with her? It seemed that left so much room for her to slip away.
"No matter what happens, Sarah, we'll always be friends." It came out sounding like he needed reassurance, and he felt raw at saying this to her, exposed, at the mercy of fate. He shook away the feeling.
She nodded, not hesitating. "First and last, Harm. You mean too much to me for it to be otherwise."
He nodded again, touched his lips to her forehead. He knew it was hardly a reassurance, even if she meant it with all her heart at this moment in time. He returned her hand to the crook of his elbow and started walking towards the park. He'd have to make do.
"Come on," He led her away from the ferry, mulling over all that had just happened, trying not to think himself into a morass of worry over things he couldn't control. Enjoying how it felt to have her by his side, arms linked. "Solve a murder, find me a corndog, win you a stuffed bear, and charm you into having breakfast with me. We have a full night ahead of us."
Her laughter was happy, relieved. "Sounds perfect."
God, he hoped so.
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