Okay people, you know you've done it! You know you want to do it! And You know that, after reading this, you might head off tomorrow and buy some. Hell, you might even take out that hidden stash you have and give it a go. I know, how it works, because, sighs I too am an addict. . .so are Harm and Mac, so we are in good company. ;)

Enjoy. . .Jackie

PART 17 – Bubble Wrap

(Pop.) (Pop.) (Poppop.) (Pop.) This is a sick (Pop.) addiction. (Pop.) I mean, really (Pop.) I am a grown man (Pop.) sitting next to a very (Pop.) gorgeous (Pop.), sexy (Pop.), sensual (Pop, pop.) woman. (Pop.) and all (Pop.) I can do is. . .

I turn slowly to Mac, and glare her down with a look that could kill. "You just popped one of mine." I accuse, staring at the sheet of bubble paper that is draped between us. "What? Is there just not enough for the both of us? You have to come over to my side of the bubble wrap and pop one of my bubbles?"

Mac doesn't look up at me. Actually, I am not too sure she's even listening. Intrigued with this, spawn of Satan (I mean, really, how the hell else can you attest to actually sitting around like morons popping bubbles!), she's sitting next to me, tongue darting out slightly, out of the corner of her mouth in concentration as she works on arbitrarily popping bubbles. Snorting, I take a look at her side and then at mine. Well, at least mine are being popped in some sort of order. Mac is just. . .well, a maniac.

With a sigh, I return back to my popping. This really, really, really is addicting. I chuckle in though of this being the perfect weapon for the war on terror. Just drop a few cases of these over in the middle east and those boys will be so busy they wouldn't know when our troops hit them. For that matter, maybe I should anonymously send Creswell a box? After him finding out about Mac and I, he's keeping an eye on us like a hawk stalking its prey.

Casting a lazy glance over at the box by the door, I recall what started this. . .popping extravaganza, was a package that FedEx had left for Mac. She had ordered some bone kit – I really don't get how you could be an amateur paleontologist at home, but, I don't tell Mac that - and, apparently, the shipping company was just as bubble wrap happy as can be. There is probably enough to wrap up the whole damned sofa. "Harm, that was one of mine." She says, turning to me slightly as I glance down to find that my finger had, indeed, passed the invisible barrier between my side and hers.

"You popped one of mine!" I accuse again, now that I have her attention.

Mac shakes her head. "No I didn't."

"Did too."

"Did not!"

"Too!"

"Not!" Sighing, she yanks the bubble paper away from me and starts on my section. "Besides, it came in the box with my things that I ordered. So, therefore, the bubble wrap is mine." She states, almost as if she were disproving information in the courtroom. "So there."

Growling, I reach over and take my half again. "If I remember correctly, Mac. . .You said, and I quote 'Here, Harm, have fun.' And then took off to get changed. . . Then, when you came back you heard the popping and got all into it." I swear, that statement just sounded sick. Jeez, I am a prude.

Mac busts out laughing. "You did realize that statement sounded sick didn't you?"

I glare at her. "Yes, and I was intentional." It wasn't, but she doesn't have to know that. I glance down at the bubble wrap, trying to find the area that I left off at. AHA! There it is. Merrily, I start popping again to find Mac staring and chuckling. "What?"

"For Christ's sake, it's just bubble wrap, Harm, you don't have to be all precise about it." She points at my section, that I've chosen to pop in a straight line and starts giggling.

I try to take the wrap away from her, but I am a bit too late. Before I know it, she takes my side in her hand and pops some huge portion of the bubble wrap. Okay, that did it. "You did not just do that."

Grinning, she looks at me with big brown eyes and an air of mischief of a five year old. "Yep. . .and I enjoyed it too." Leaning, in she kisses me quickly, not even letting it linger before she goes back to popping the bubble wrap. "This can get kinky." She says out of the blue. "In fact, I saw some special on TV about people who dress only in bubble wrap. . .They actually make suits out of it, bikini's. . ." Anything else she said flushes out of my ears as I start to think of Mac in a bubble wrap bikini. Whew! Wonder if I could order it!

I am grinning at her like a total idiot, I just know I am. "Hmmm, so, tell me, what sort of kinky things do you like to do with bubble wrap." I am hopeful my girlfriend will ramble off some racy list, but, instead, she is staring at me as if I've grown three heads. "What?"

"Harm!" She admonishes as her cheeks take on a lovely shade of pink. My, oh, my, is Sarah MacKenzie blushing? Hmm. . .This is just too good to pass up.

Grinning, I move closer to her on the sofa until our shoulders are touching. "Now who's the prude, Mac?"

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she goes back to her arbitrary pops. "I am not a prude, flyboy." Nope, I can honestly and with all certainty say that Mac IS NOT a prude – something which I am ecstatic about.

Still, can't pass up the chance to tease her. "So, what's the problem then?"

"Well, don't you find it weird that you and I have spent the better part of twenty minutes popping bubbles." As she is saying this, her fingers are still popping away, course mine are too and I am not even aware that I was doing that.

I shrug. So she has a point there. What is it about the human psyche that will cause you to drop all things just to pop bubbles? I start chuckling as I remember one of the first cases I ever had when I was a fledgling JAG officer. "I had a case, I think it was my second about a Petty Officer that had been accused of DDO. . .We settled, but you know what he wanted me to use as his defense?" God, this is soooo classic, I can't believe I remembered until now. Mac shrugs, not looking up from the wrap as she does so. "This. . ." I lift up a piece of bubble wrap and chuckle. "He was busy popping bubble wrap and had forgotten his orders."

Mac stops and looks at me, noting I am serious she starts laughing again. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Wish I was, you have no idea how embarrassed I was to let Admiral Brovo in on that one." As I am about to start another line of popping, Mac tugs the bubble wrap away from me and starts to wind it into some small roll. "Uh, Mac? Why did you take that away from me." I know I sound like a little kid right now, but I was hoping to be done with that sheet before we head off to bed.

She raises her eyebrows and giggles slightly. "We have things to do."

Do we? It's the weekend and the only things I have to do, is her. "No we don't."

Nodding, she comes back over to me and slides into my lap. I find that she really likes it there, not that I am complaining. Anytime I can get her this close to me, it's great! "Yes. . .we . . . do." She punctuates each word with a kiss. I really hope she doesn't think that will help my sudden memory lapse. If anything, it makes it fuzzier. She stops kissing me and just grins as her hand runs up and down my leg. "You are going to look cute in tights."

Tights! OH DAMN! Yes, NOW I remember. "Oh, no. . .no no no no no, you are NOT getting me in tights!"

She grins mischievously at me and nods. "Oh yes, I am just dying to see that six of yours in tights." And by the look in her eyes, she is serious too.

There is a masquerade ball coming up, one held by JAG for the Navy/Marine Corps relief fund. Usually, it's a rather hoity toity, boring affair. This time, because of Harriet's outstanding job with the USO, she got roped into figuring this one out for us. Wanting it to be fun and different, she opted for a masquerade ball of sorts. We're supposed to go in Medieval or Renaissance style clothing. The moment the memo had been passed around the office, I swear, you could hear all of the men groaning. The women, of course, were all trading ideas on dresses, Mac was no exception. "Maaaaaaaac." I whine out. "No one else is wearing tights." Neither Bud, nor Sturgis, not even Vic agreed to the tights! "I don't want to be the only guy there in tights."

Sighing, she leans forward and kisses me, almost as if she is reassuring me, though, with Mac, you never can tell. "Fine, no tights, but we still need to go pick out our costumes." Mac trails her kisses down to my chin. If she keeps this up, there will be no costume shopping today. "And we promised Turner and the Roberts' that we would be there."

"Uh huh." I mumble out, concentrating more on what she's doing that what she's saying. And then the kisses stop altogether and Mac slides off of my lap. I pop and eye open and glance up to find her reaching her hand down to me. "We have to go now?" She nods and I groan as I stand up. This just sucks.

"Oh, cheer up, flyboy. . .Maybe, when we come back, we can have our fun with the rest of the bubble wrap." Hmm, she says that comment with a very low, very sexy voice.

"Even that kinky stuff?" I joke, but Mac whirls around and kisses me again.

"Even that kinky stuff." She says with another grin as we head out of the door. Yep, Mac's definitely NOT a prude.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .