It's official, I need to start writing in the shower. I might get electrocuted, but good stories will show up. The first part of this story CRACKED me up. I mean I could just see Harm with his hands over his pecs trying to explain to Mac what he meant. So cute! You'll see what I mean. LOL!

Enjoy!
Jackie

PART 42 – Soap Suds

"You're not wearing that."

I raise a brow and grin. "I know you didn't just say that."

"Maaac! All the guys in a ten mile radius will show up just to see your. . .your. . .your. . .uh." Harm's hands move up to his chest where he's doing this rounding movement over his pecs. "You know, your. . ."

God, he's so cute when he's flustered. I decide that he means to say, "Boobs, Harm?" He bites his lower lip and nods dumbly. Alright, I can understand that, but considering that he is standing there in swim drunks and sandals, sans shirt, I have a few concerns myself. "Babe, every woman in an eleven mile radius will show up just to see your pecs, your arms, your six pack, not to mention that ass of yours." I smile cheekily, then turn away from him to take the supplies out of his car. "In fact, I'll be that more women show up to see you then men who will show up to see me."

Honestly, this suit isn't that bad. I mean, I am wearing running shorts (which go a little higher than mid-thigh) and a bikini top which is pretty modest. I'm not like, flaunting major cleavage or anything. Technically, I am more dressed than Harm is!

What would make us have this attire? A trip to the beach, maybe? Nope.

It's noon on Sunday and the whole JAG staff has assembled at a gas station a few blocks away from JFK Stadium. Throughout the year several different opportunities come up for us to have charity events for various military organizations. The events are always fun, usually sports related and one of us always ends up injured. Last year we had a tennis match and I wound up with a black eye when an exuberate Coates clocked me with the ball, then spent the better half of an hour apologizing. This time, however, our resident busybody, Harriet, had convinced the General that we should have a car wash.

Harm runs up to his car and leans against it, preventing me from opening the door. There's this cocky, smile and I can see a challenge ensuing. Oh yes, our marriage, definitely will be exciting. We're never done one upping each other. "Wanna bet on that?"

"Bet?" I raise a brow in question. He's not going to bet on how many cars we wash from the opposite sex is he?

That smile widens just a little more. "Yup. A bet. You versus me. Men versus women. . .I bet that more men come to you to wash their cars than women will come to me."

Hmm, I've never been one to turn down a bet, especially from Harm. "Deal." I extend my hand and we shake on it.

"In any case, I know how men operate. . .We're just dirtier than you girls."

"Oh you don't know women, Rabb." I snort out as I shove him out of the way to grab the bags in his car. Why is it that men honestly believe we are such angels? God, if they only had an idea just how bad we can be. "We're just as bad as guys. . .and you know what?"

He takes a few more bags then kicks his door shut. "No I don't know what."

"You guys are just as bad as girls."

The look on his face challenges this tidbit. "Oh really? Enlighten me, Colonel."

Ah, it's just one word really. "Gossip. . .You guys gossip just as much as we do." I turn, stopping just in front of Harm, standing on my toes to give him a kiss. "Let the battles begin."

I feel his eyes on me as I sway my way over to the gas station and the line of cars that had started to form. "Alright, let's go!"

An Eclipse with a rather cute looking young man drives up. Harriet, Jen and I work together, quickly lathering up the car with soap suds, rinsing and then drying. The three of us have similar outfits, Jen wearing girlie Bermudas and a bikini top (she claims not to like her legs much) and Harriet wearing jean shorts and a bikini top. For a mother of four, the woman sure has flat abs! Mental note: when Harm and I have kids, turn to Harriet for work out routines. I think she mentioned something called Pilate's, I might have to check that out.

Bud's the only one that's pretty much fully dressed. He's always self conscious about showing his leg and decided to wear a t-shirt and track pants. Deciding that he preferred to stay dry, he's been doing a fabulous job of taking care of the money. Sturgis is also modestly dressed wearing running shorts and a tank top while General Cresswell is wearing a USMC t-shirt and shorts. Both of them are helping Harm and while the girls and I finish two cars, they are still at the one.

Keeping my eye on the competition, I find exactly what I thought I would. There's Commander Rabb, bleached blond bimbo at his side. And, guess what? She's actually HELPING him wash the car. Yup, the woman is bending over the hood, her boobs doing a better job applying the sudsy mixture than her hands do. Oh brother. Harm's doing his best to ignore her, moving to the tires. This only seems to catch the woman's attention. Course, it doesn't help that he's bent over, those trunks stretching across that six of his. I mean, really Harm!

Grabbing the hose, I start to wet down a Ford Ranger carrying three exuberant, male, National's fans and one, bored to death, female. I'm not sure how it happened – hehehehehe – but some of the water flies over the Ranger hitting both Harm and the woman. "Woops! Hose got away from me." I say, non too innocently as he turns and gives me a death look. "Hurry, Commander, you got a line waiting."

Harm's middle finger comes up to the side of his face as he pretends to remove an imaginary speck of dirt. "You might wanna do the same, Colonel."

I can't believe he just flipped me off. Jerk! "Uh huh, you work on your cars, I'll work on mine." That was lame, I know. Sorry! I can't have a good comeback all of the time! Amused, I turn back to our new patrons and work on their vehicle, ever so often eyeing Harm.

Three more cars pass by on our ends, all full of guys, one of which ended up giving the three of us a five dollar tip – each! Hah! Alright, so maybe Harm was right? I won't tell him that though. The next time I take a look at my fiancé I find, not a woman, but a man, who looks to be in his thirties, standing outside of his car eyeing Harm with interest.

Putting down the sponge, I watch for a moment, thoroughly amused at how Harm's trying to cover his torso. It really doesn't work and I expect that any moment, his current patron will ask for his number. Shaking my head, I turn back to our client and finish the car with a flourish.

It is the next client that really had too much fun with the three of us. "Mind if I take a picture?" Harriet, Jen and I shrug and agree, standing in front of his car. He snaps two shots and then smiles in a stalker kinda way. "Could you three stand like the girls in Charlie's Angels?"

"Charlie's Angels?" He's gotta be kidding me right? I mean to protest, when I find Harm, Cresswell, Sturgis and Bud all standing behind the guy, all with matching grins. I feel like we've been had. "Sure, that would be great." Harriet and Jen position me between them and I stick my hand forward and up, pretending to be firing a gun. Jen points to the right and Harriet to the left. "Wait!" I say, remembering one key detail to the show. "The blond is always in the middle." I slide Harriet into place and we all strike our poses again.

As the day starts to wind down, so do the cars. Over the radio we hear that the National's game has begun and most of the crowd has headed to the game. While I start to lather up another car, I feel a cold splash of water against my back. "Hey!" Before spinning around I know who it is.

Harm has this sexy grin as he takes the hose and points it at me. "Hands up, Colonel." He sprays my abdomen and I try my best to block the shot. "Surrender or else."

"Yea, like that's gonna happen?" I dive behind the car, grab for the bucket and pull out two soapy sponges. From underneath I can see Harm's feet, he's getting nearer. Quickly, I stand up, tossing one sponge at him. It's a direct hit! Peaking over the back of the car, I find Harm with soap sliding off the side of his face. "Oooh oooh, sunk your battleship, did I Rabb?"

For some reason, we can't get out of military metaphors. "Come out of your foxhole, MacKenzie, I'll show you." I move towards the front of the car, crouching down by the passenger's door, holding the second sponge. The owner of the car is just standing to the side, a bewildered look on her face. I raise up slightly then toss the other sponge at him. It's a direct hit, but as a result I am hit as well with another cold shot.

Reaching down I pick up our hose and shoot an arch of water over the car and towards Harm. If his yelp is any indication, I got him. "You were saying, Rabb?"

I try to move around the front of the car, only to feel to soapy arms wrapping around my torso. Despite our little battle, I don't resist and become his willing captive. "Gotcha, Colonel." He whispers into my ear then turns me around to face him. "So? . . .I got twenty girls."

I nod. "Yes and I saw a few of those girls helping out." Four to be exact all with interesting car cleanliness methods. "And I had twenty guys." Seriously, it was dead even, so much for our theories.

"So does that mean we're signing a treaty and calling it a truce?" He grins, his hands sliding up and down my spine.

Truce? Yea, well. "Why not? I figure we can be civil for now." Grinning, I come up to my toes and kiss the tip of his nose. "Did I ever tell you now cute you look with soap suds all over you?"

Harm takes some of the suds sliding off of him and smother them over my nose. "Not as cute as you."

As we lean in to kiss, I can over hear the owner of the vehicle talking to General Cresswell. "Honey, were you and I like this when we were younger?"

The General chuckles and out of the corner of my eye I see him kiss his wife. "Nope, we were worse."