So, are we still reading this or should I just wrap it up, kill it, stop writng? ;)

Part 22 - What-Nots

I hate crutches. I hate casts. I hate doctors. I hate the General. I hate JAG's supply closet. And, most of all, at the moment, I hate a certain Commander who forgot his damned keys! "If you knock ONE MORE TIME I will beat you over the head with this crutch, you read me, Commander?" I bark out in a tone that, I am sure, would scare the crap out of a drill instructor. As a response I hear a muffled 'Aye aye, ma'am.'

Using this stupid crutch has turned out to be torture. I fractured my left wrist, which means, I can't use a crutch on that arm. And that is fine, because I also fractured my right leg – I got the whole 'balancing' thing down. However, getting up and getting moving is a total bitch. With a huff, I hobble my way over to the door which poses another problem. "Argh! Damnit!"

"You alright in there, Mac?" Harm says from the other side of the door. Why do men love to torture women? How is it that we hardly ever forget keys? I mean, it was on the table with his wallet and car keys.

Sighing, I lean up against the wall, then balance on one foot until I can prop open the thirty one thousand locks on my door which were put there by, you guessed it, the flyboy. A week ago someone broke into the apartment next door and, since then, Harm got a bit panicky. So, he added in a second dead bolt, another chain, set up new locks on both the existing dead bolt and the door handle. Then, he installed that stick that goes on the inside to prevent anyone from slamming the door open. I swear, Fort Knox would be envious. Finally, I pull open the door to find Harm standing there with an armful of groceries. "You didn't forget your keys, did you?" I ask, grinning as he waltzes in and heads towards the kitchen. He chuckles, darts his head out and shakes it. "Jerk!" I head over to the kitchen, resting against the doorjamb as Harm puts all the goodies away. "Ooooh, Oreos." I say with a grin and attempt to snatch the box but Harm's quicker. "Hey!"

"I am upset with you, Colonel." He says, then sticks the box as far away from me as possible.

As carefully as possible, I cross my arms and give him my best stare. "Oh? I don't know why. I've been here all day haven't done a damned thing, thank you." Just watch these pathetic, yet, utterly addicting soaps.

"Uh huh." He takes out some parmesan cheese, heavy whipping cream, broccoli, chicken and some fettuccini. Ooooh, he's going to do Chicken Fettuccini Alfredo with his own, home made, Alfredo sauce. Bless the man! Harm stops and stares at me and by the look he's giving me, it seems he really IS upset. Oh oh. "What was the last thing I told you before I left this morning?"

Moments like this, I swear, I love that I have a pretty good memory. "Hmmm. . . 'I love you, Mac. . .Call you when I get to work.'?" That WAS the last thing he said, right before kissing me in a way that caused me to ignore the slight pain I was in from my injuries. Wistfully, I grin up at him, but he ain't smiling back. "That WAS the last thing you said."

Harm shakes his head. "Before that. . ."

"Okaaaay." I draw out, not really in the mood for 20 questions or whatever else he is getting at. "I am not to sure. . .somewhere between the 'I love you's' and the kiss I umm. . .forgot?" I bat my eyes, trying to sway him from whatever mood he's in. But, not even my dazzling smile seems to be doing a damned thing. What the hell did I do?

Sighing as if the world was resting on his shoulders, Harm leans against the cabinets and fixes me with a glare. "I didn't buy all of the locks and what-nots for the hell of it, Mac. . .I bought it to keep you safe."

"That's what your tiffed about?" I shake my head, the nerve of this man! "Baby, I DID use all the locks and the what-nots."

"Uh, no. . .You didn't use that stick thingy. . .I didn't hear you unlock that."

Well, okay he is right on that, but, then again, "How do you expect me to sick that thing in there? It's difficult enough to just walk around. . .besides, Harm, I'm a MARINE." I know he HATES it when I say that, in fact, he's rolling his eyes right now. But, he hasn't realized yet that I do it to rev him up a little. And, as usual, it's working. Here comes the speech.

"Mac. . .I know you are a kick ass Marine. On a GOOD day you can probably take on Mike Tyson and win, but. . .You're injured." He walks up to me, our bodies close to touching, but he doesn't quite get there. His voice is low and sultry and sweet and it's all I can do not to have my way with him. God, it's so wonderful to be pathetically in love. "You're important to me. . .very important to me. . .and I want to keep you safe."

I shrug and, with my good hand, reach out to grab his hand. "I know." I say, playing with his fingers, then lacing them through his. I keep my head down, watching, slightly mesmerized at how our hands fit so nicely, his strong one hand with my slender one. "But, I am all alone and it is difficult to put on. . .I did manage to lock the rest of the what-nots."

When I look up at him, I try giving him my puppy dog look along with a lick of my lips for good measure. And, that's his undoing. His eyes are watching my lips, keeping a tact on when I darted my tongue out. I sigh slightly, then run my lips together. We haven't done anything, we aren't really touching intimately, are bodies aren't even touching, yet, standing like this, in my kitchen, with my injured wrist and ankle and Harm, still overly dressed in uniform, it's one of the sexiest things ever.

Before I know it, he tugs me to him, fusing his mouth on mine, kissing me with such intensity, I can barely breathe. The force of the movement makes me wince slightly, but I'd happily break every bone in my body if it meant I'd get to kiss him every day of my life. Between kisses, I wonder if we'll always have this intensity for each other. Will we always be this way?

Harm stops kissing me, his eyebrow arching slightly. "Will we always be what way?" Damn, I hadn't realized I said that out loud.

Shyly, I place my good hand on his chest, the other on the kitchen counter. Damned cast is HEAVY. "Like this. . .you know? Passionate, sensuous, tantalizing. . .rapturous."

He's breathing shallow. His eyes are all smoke and desire. It actually makes me quiver when I hear him say, "God, say that again."

"I Mmnnn. . ." Before I have a chance to say anything else, we're kissing again. Somehow, I think we'll have desert before dinner. Harm's definitely going to have to do all the work, though, not that I think he minds. "Oooh, you're good." I rasp out as I feel his hand come in contact with my bare skin. How the hell does he do that without me noticing?

I can feel him either grinning or smiling against my lips as his fingers work on undoing the buttons of my shirt. His hands slide upwards, under the shirt and he starts to pull it off of my shoulders. It falls down to the floor in a pool then Harm's fingers are trying to unhook my bra. "Ahem."

Funny, how such a silly interjection can TOTALLY ruin a moment. Harm steps up, pulling me tightly against his body. His arms come around me, shielding my half-naked body from whomever has stumbled in. "What the hell do you want Lieutenant?"

Ah, that can only be one person. I look up at Harm, who is holding me even closer now. There's this scowl on his face. Jesus, I think he might just make good on the 'killing Lt. Sleaze' promise. "I uh. . .came to umm wish the. . .the Colonel. . .What I mean was. . .I wanted to. . . wish her a get well soon."

Wow, the scowl must be working if Vukovic's stammering is an indication. "Lieutenant, we'll be right out, please head over to the living room." I say, trying to seem professional without being all bitchy with him. When he leaves, Harm squats down, picks up my shirt and helps me slip it back on. "So much for all of the door locks, huh?" I chuckle.

He's doing up my buttons quickly. "I guess I should return them, they aren't Lt. Sleaze proof." He whispers then we chuckle again.

"Uh, hello! I can do that THANK YOU." I really don't mind him helping, at all, but when it comes to getting around, I can do that myself. Laughing, I yank the crutch from him, almost falling face first as the action made me lose my balance. Of course, his arms are there, preventing me from falling. I sigh and find Harm with this wicked little grin. "One word and I'm telling every one at work about how much of a pansy you were when you got the tattoo, flyboy."

With a wink, I head off to the living room. Vukovic is standing by the fireplace, admiring the photos. There's the photo of Harm and I in Afghanistan, a photo of the Roberts' clan, one of Chloe and Jingo, one of me and Uncle Matt, taken when I was 12 and another of Harm and I taken at a restaurant we went to a few weeks ago. The last one is a really sweet picture. We were caught up in our own little world, hanging by the moment, and the restaurant photographer gave it to us free of charge. The next day we made copies, Harm kept the original and had a frame made for my copy. I treasure it so much. "Ah, very sorry to hear about the accident ma'am." Vic looks me up and down, wincing as he takes in the sight of the casts.

I am slightly curious as to what the General and Harm told people. Somehow I don't think 'they were making out in the supply closet' came up in any type of conversation. "It's not too bad. . .casts come off in about four weeks. . .minor fractures."

"The General told us you slipped and fell in the stairwell?" No, but it was close to the stairwell.

I nodded. "Yep. . .heels must have slipped from under me." Yea, because I've only been wearing them for most of my adult life. I could probably do PT in heals if required to do so. "They aren't very comfortable."

"I wouldn't know." Harm and Vic say at the same time and then the both of them stare at each other all male, testosteroneish and territorial. I roll my eyes, here we go.

Harm steps next to me, then helps me into the large chair I have, then sits on the sofa, right smack in the middle, making sure Vic has no where to sit but across from me on the other chair. "Difficult case today, wasn't it Vic?"

I think that was the first time he's ever called him Vic. "I think it pretty much sucked. .. uh, sir." He turns to me, adds a dazzling smile and says, "The Commander and I went toe to toe, I gave him a good run, but he still came out on top. . .Next time, I suppose."

Well, he'll probably win A FEW against Harm, but more than that, doubtful. "The Commander is a good opponent." I turn to Harm and our eyes lock in that silent conversation only we seem to have.

Vic apparently senses he's just become the third wheel and ten seconds later I hear him groan. "Well, I guess I'd better be going. . .Get well soon, Ma'am. . .See you tomorrow, sir." He takes Harm's hand and they go through this power struggle as to who has the stronger grip. Men, ugh!

The Lieutenant isn't more than three feet away from the door when Harm closes it and starts to lock every single dead bolt, chain and yes, even that stick thingy. I raise an eyebrow at him in question. "Eh, I suddenly feel like Rapunzle."

"Hey, as long as I am the prince that comes to rescue you, you can whichever fairy tail maiden you like." Harm leans against the door giving me that 'I told you so' look and I can't help but chuckle. "You laugh, but you see what happens if you don't have the proper security measures?"

"Oh, C'mon Harm! It's not like I LEAVE the door wide open for people to just waltz right in. . .Until now that is." I grin indignantly at him and Harm starts to chuckle. "Besides it was only Vic."

Harm shakes his head, comes over to me and helps me to my feet. "Let's get you fed, jarhead, then you can hear all about me beating the pants off of Lt. Sleaze."

"Harmon Rabb, you sure have the loveliest pillow talk." With a grin, I pat him on the shoulder, then head towards the kitchen. "By the way, after dinner, I think we should finish what we started, I don't like being left all hot and bothered." By the way Harm bolted through the living room and rushed off towards the kitchen, it's obvious he doesn't like being hot and bothered any more than I do.