Part 27 – Third Time's A Charm? Maybe not.

We're going to have sex in the supply closet. Yes, we are at it again and I know, I know, the last two times it's been rather, awkward. Actually, there really haven't been TWO times, I mean, the first time I was just joking with Mac. The second time, she was just joking with me. But this time we have a game plan and it will work!

This weekend, after spending it trying to finish the work we didn't on Friday night due to extracurricular umm… anyway, we decided it was time to break the curse of the supply closet. It might be unprofessional, against regs and totally insane, but, it's damn exhilarating! First of all, we've taken precautions to make sure that a) no one has scheduled some sort of fire drill, earthquake drill, tsunami drill, etc b) Creswell is OUT of the office C) our co-workers are out of the office and d) that the closet we chose does not lock from the outside. This means we had to do some reconnaissance.

For the past week we've scoured through every nook and cranny of the building. We made sure no security cameras were there or any methods of surveillance. We even found a closet that seems to work better than JAG's tiny supply closet – the one outside of the judge's quarters in courtroom B which was more like a huge walk-in closet with plenty of space to frolic. Friday seemed to be the perfect day as everyone usually secured early. It wouldn't be uncommon to find either Mac or I working late with the other one waiting up. In fact, we did that regularly now.

Getting up from my chair, I make sure everything in the office is secure for the evening and go in search of Mac. I stop under her doorframe, grinning stupidly as I watch her. She's staring intently at the computer screen, her mouth biting on the cap of her pen, a habit that I'd always noticed but had to keep my mouth shut about. "Oh, to be that pen." I say smugly and without invitation, let myself into her office. "You ready?"

Annoyed she glances up from the screen. "You know, just because we're dating, doesn't mean you can just barge into my office, Commander." Damnit, I should be slightly off put, but the way Mac uses my rank when she's pissed is so damn sexy. "Just give me a minute, I need to finish up this report."

Her whole demeanor at this moment is completely different from the woman I took to lunch earlier today. The one that was having trouble keeping her hands on me. The one that urged me to do the whole closet adventure thing with her. "Jeez, Marine, don't sound so excited about it." I can't help the disappointment in my voice. I mean, yes, it's risky and totally stupid, but it seems fun.

With a sheepish grin, she stares up at me, her annoyance changing completely to a look of seduction. "I am excited. . I just. . .just didn't want to seem to eager." Mac's grin broadens slightly as her eyes move back to the screen. I hear the keyboard keys pressing down several times before she straightens herself and shuts off the puter. "Now I'm ready."

As she comes around the desk, I take her into my arms, kissing her softly. "You don't think that planning this takes away the spontaneity of the moment?"

Mac shakes her head as her arms wrap around my neck. "Nope. . .it just means we are cautious and with our track record, that's a good thing." Releasing me, she takes my hand and pulls me out of her office. "C'mon, flyboy."

We head down the hallways, both giggling like teenagers. Exhilarated, I follow behind her, feeling like a love sick idiot. We come apart at a particular area which we know is guarded by a camera, and quickly pass by seemingly all cool and collected only to reach for each other again once we make it up to the fourth floor where the courtrooms are. "Now, where is it?" Mac asks, stopping at the corridor which adjoins the different courtrooms. "Was it B or A?"

"Definitely A. . .B had that closet that smelled like mold, remember?"

Her nose scrunches up in disgust. "Oh yea, I have to remember to tell Cresswell about. . ." My stern look stops her thought processes. "Or not. . ." Cresswell doesn't really want to hear about us and closets anymore. If the damned closet smells like something died in it, it's staying that way because we aren't saying a thing.

Finally, we spot the supply closet which Mac pulls me into, giggling all the way. Yes, she giggles. I can make a MARINE giggle! I basically fall onto her hearing an 'umph' as she hits the shelves. "You. . .alright." I say between kisses to her face and neck, feeling her smiling lips then on my own.

"Shut up and kiss me, sailor." Like I wasn't going to oblige? I just wanted to make sure she was alright. . .apparently she is. "Mmm, Harm, how'd you do that?"

In the dark, I glance down at her, shrugging slightly. "Uh, do what?"

"Your hands, they feel like they are. . .everywhere." Her voice is soft, breathy, sexy, making me tingle all over. How is it that we've been together countless times yet I still feel like a hormone raging teenager? "It's like. . ."

"Ahem." A voice, way too deep to be Mac's clears whatever it is she was going to say. I feel Mac's body move closer to mine. "Fancy meeting you two in here."

The closet is suddenly bathed in light and I find that Mac and I aren't the only ones with a closet fetish. Apparently, the General and Mrs. Creswell are into it too. "General!" Both Mac and I practically yell out in shock. We try coming to attention, but in the position she's in, that just isn't going to happen, so I settle for holding her up straighter.

Mrs. Creswell is turning BEET red, for that matter, so is the General though he is trying to do this whole cool, collected and professional thing. "Colonel, Commander. . .how are you?" She says, holding on to the General as if her life depended on it.

I take a good look at Creswell and find lipstick marks all over his face and even some on his collar. Oh man, this is just classic. One of those stories that have to remain a secret no matter how much you want to tell your friends if you value your life. "Oh, we're just fine." I hear Mac say between fits of laughter. Doubling over slightly, she rests her face on my shoulder and just cracks up. The whole tension seems to swoosh out of the room and we soon find us four sharing one hell of a laugh. "Oh God. . .this is just. . .perfect."

"Guess I can get off of your case over the supply closet adventures?" The General asks me sheepishly.

I shrug back, coming up with ideas, ever the lawyer. "Actually, sir, this belongs to the judiciary, so, technically, it's out of your jurisdiction."

"Touché." He glances at Mac and I, then at his wife. "What say we get out of here?"

"Sounds good to me." Mac says as she reaches for the door knob. And, just as luck would have it, the door ain't budging. "Oh no."

"Oh no?" The three of us say, glancing at her with an incredulous glare. This can't be happening again? And this time, we're screwed! It's FRIDAY! NO ONE is here! "It's not budging."

"Oh, c'mon! Give us a break here!" I plead to any saint that wants to listen. Grabbing Mac, I shift her out of the way and try to get out using brutal force. Now, here's where it gets tricky. All of the doors at JAG are made of some special type of materials that DO NOT let the damned things budge. "Please! This is SO NOT the way I want to spend my weekend!"

At that moment, I think we are all thinking the same thing like – food, sleeping arrangements, going to the bathroom. "Commander, lets put some real man power into it." Creswell says as he slips off the remainder of his jacket which he hands to his wife. He rolls up his sleeves, stands next to me and begins to order, "On three. . .two. . ."

"ONE ugh!" We both breathe out roughly and I swear I came as close to breaking my shoulder as I would have ever liked. "We're screwed." I breathe out and turned to Creswell with a wry smile. "I guess we'll have to hunker down."

And hunker down we do. For about two hours we sit in the small closet, in the dark. The damned light bulb blew about half hour in and now we are there, finding ways to enjoy ourselves. Ways that weren't in any of our agendas. One good thing came out of all of this, I got to know Creswell better, much better. In fact, he's a pretty cool guy who loves to tell silly stories from his time in the service. "So. . .you two are sure there isn't a way out of here?" His voice almost sounds as if he's pleading, not that I am going to tell him that.

Mac and I stare at each other, both thinking about how well we know the building. To my knowledge, there isn't a way to get out of any of the closets, not that I have such a great mental blueprint of the place. "Not a clue sir. . .I mean we don't go around doing these sorts of things."

Creswell snorts loudly, "Uh huh, which is why I've caught you two twice. . .this makes it THREE times. . .Shhh. . what's that?" The four of us remain eerily silent, listening for whatever the General has heard. As luck would have it, we all hear it – giggling. That is followed by the sound of the closet doorknob jingling! We all come to our feet, ready to move out when, a second later, Bud and Harriet spill into the room and fall solidly onto Mac who looks mortified.

The General and I exchange an amused glance as the Roberts' finally sober up. "General!" They both say simultaneously and despite ourselves, we all start laughing.

"At ease, you too. . ." Unfortunately, he acted a bit too late. In their shock, Bud and Harriet manage to let the door shut behind them. "Watch the door! No!"

Mac moves away from the Roberts and tries to jiggle the handle. "Welcome to the seventh circle of hell." I would agree with her.

Another half hour goes by and this 'spacious' supply closet has turned into a sardine can of a sauna. We're all sweating bullets. We've all taken off the top layer of our clothing and I try not to think about Mac who only needs to discard two more items of clothing before she's at my mercy. Bud clears his throat and I can hear him shuffling slightly. "Umm, General, sir? Will we be penalized for this sort of thing? I mean Harriet and I never. . ."

Creswell chuckles at the absurdity of Bud's comment. He's about to answer when, from the outside, we hear a set of voices, male and female. "HELP!" I hear Mac yell, nearly blowing out and, I assume everyone else's eardrums. "We're in here! We're trapped help!" She turns towards me, "Well, c'mon people!"

The six of us team up, yelling until our throats hurt and then, the most wonderful and horrible thing happened, Vukovic opened the door. "Uh? Sirs, ma'am?" He seems to be confused with our predicament but chooses to keep his mouth shut about it. Thank God for protocol.

I am about to thank him, when I see Barbie come up next to him holding a set of handcuffs. "Vic, are we going to. . .Oh?" She glances at us, specifically Mac and I with a look that could kill. "Guess it's a busy night at JAG." Vic spins towards her, glaring hard.

"What was going on here, sir?" The man actually has the nerve to ask. Now, yes, I do know the General a bit better, but I am not stupid when it comes to my place in the food chain. As a junior officer, moments like these are meant to be ignored.

Creswell takes his wife's hand and steps out first. "Nothing that concerns you Lieutenant. . .Alright people, let's move." He orders the rest of us which follow out in single file leaving Vic there with as confused expression as I've ever scene.

Downstairs, we say goodbye to the Creswell's and the Roberts. "You know, next time we want to have a little fun in a closet I suggest we use my walking." The twinkle in her eye makes me believe that her suggestion is one that she wants to have realized by the end of the night.

"Is that an invitation?" I ask, moving a step closer to her.

Rather than the invitation I was hoping for, Mac gives me an un-lady-like snort, then places her Corvette's keys in my hand. "Yea, right. . .After this I am so exhausted all I want to do is sleep." She walks around to the passenger's side, opens the door and gets in. Looking up towards the building, I wonder if maybe a forth trip to the supply closet is in order?

Maybe not.