A zillion apologies on the massive delay with this one. I had misplaced it and on top of that, have been too busy to check over the betaed chapter. And when I mean busy I mean BUSSSY. Problems with work, files gone missing, labels to print for 771 products, companies to contact, training to do, customers to please, employee arguments to settle and our boss was in town which always leaves our staff a bit… out of sorts.
So yeah, combine that with little sleep and… I ran out of coffee. NO COFFEE. Me without COFFEE. Life is just… wrong. See, I am one of the freaks that can down two mugs of coffee right before bedtime and sleep just well. Actually, I sleep better if I have some coffee. Black, no cream or sugar. I see a coffee commercial and I have to have a cup…. Okay, it's okay… 8 hours until I am at work and can get some coffee. YIPPEE!!!
8 hours?! What the hell am I still doing up?! Goodnight people and enjoy!
Jackie – No coffee?!?!?!?
Chapter 6 – Unarranged Meetings
0934 Local
Saturday
Whole Foods Market
Washington, DC
Mac pushed her cart past the produce section and heaved a sigh. "Would have been nice if I'd thought to buy groceries before holding myself up in the apartment for the weekend." She complained to herself causing a few curious eyes to turn in her direction. It was Saturday morning and her plans to vegetate came to a staggering halt upon realizing she was out of sustenance. A loaf of stale bread and left over pizza just didn't make for good eating. So she figured, if she was going out, she may as well buy groceries for the next two weeks as she normally did.
"Mmmm." Glancing at a case of luscious strawberries, she decided on a fruit salad, made only of berries. She could buy raspberries, strawberries, cherries, blueberries and blackberries and combine them all with a little low fat vanilla yogurt. Later she would swing by Ben & Jerry's to pick up a pint each of Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough and Chunky Monkey.
An hour later she was waiting in line at the check out when someone called out to her. "Major MacKenzie." Mac knew that voice but wasn't sure where to place it. Considering that she had the weekend off the last thing she wanted was to spend it with someone else or dealing with someone else's problems. So, even though she knew it was futile, Mac ignored the person. Instead, she reached for a magazine off of a rack and pretended to be thoroughly enthused. Hearing her name again, Mac cursed the man in front of her with his coupons and silly flirting with the girl at the checkout. "Major MacKenzie?" This time there was a tap on her shoulder along with the call.
Upon turning around, Mac felt like she was looking into a mirror. Despite meeting Diane Schonke, the likeness still shocked her. Apparently, the other woman felt the same if the look she wore meant anything. "Lieutenant Schonke." She regarded her 'twin' with a polite nod and half a smile - it was all she could muster.
"Out of uniform it's Diane, please." She offered a hand which Mac took begrudgingly. Diane took a glance over at Mac's collection of groceries. "Nice to have a long weekend, isn't it?"
Though Harm had vehemently sworn that a relationship between the two was over, Mac still had a thought of the pair spending the long weekend together. She wasn't sure why she cared or why the thought made her slightly sick to her stomach. Yes, Rabb was a good looking guy, but she'd taken plenty of cases with good looking guys, none of which made her feel. . . she shook her head of the thought. She didn't feel anything for Rabb other than concern for a client, that was all. The last thing she needed was to fall in love with the guy or something silly like that. "Shit." She said out loud when the magazine she was pretending to read slipped from her fingers and fell to the linoleum between her feet.
"Woops. I'll get it." Diane bent down to pick the magazine up and then handed it back to Mac. "Are you alright, Major? You seem a little dazed there."
Mac was more than just a little dazed. The notion of even thinking about falling for a client was a huge no no in her book and any code of ethics that lawyers, in general, lived by. "I'm. . .fine, just tired." She countered and then took a breath. Trying to busy herself and maybe ignore Diane away, she began placing her items on the counter for the girl to ring up.
"Here." Diane's hand came out of no where, handing a card to the checkout clerk. "It's a discount card." She turned to Mac and smiled with earnest. "I come here all the time when I'm back home. I live near Rose Park."
Oh, great. I bet we'll be bumping into each other all the time now. Goody! Mac thought, biting back a cringe. "Thank you, Lieu. . .Diane." She corrected herself before the other woman did. Although every fiber in her body was telling her not to, Mac decided to toss her twin a bone. "You can call me Mac. . .out of uniform and off base that is."
The news seemed to please Diane greatly if her bright smile was any indication. "Thanks, Mac. . .Listen, would you like to have lunch with me?"
Yup, that would be the one reason why her gut told her to leave well enough alone. The moment you gave a junior officer the right to get 'chummy' with you, all bets were off. "Lunch?"
Diane nodded. "It's the meal between breakfast and dinner. . .Oh, I know it's a little early. There's a cute little pizza place just up the road."
Something told Mac that the run in was a little more than coincidental. Maybe it was fate's way of kicking her in the ass again. "May I ask why?"
"To be honest, I am curious about you. . . and why we look so much alike." She smiled but it was neither genuine nor welcoming for someone trying to 'dig' into another person's life. "I'll meet you there in an hour, it'll give you time to take your groceries home." With that, the woman walked away, not so much as waiting for Mac to respond.
The cashier, who had heard bits and pieces of the conversation just shook her head. "Sucks to see twins not getting along."
"She's not my twin." Mac stated and only received some sort of chuckle from the young girl.
"Yeah right."
An hour later she found herself sitting at a bench across from the twin she never had and never really wanted. "So, brothers and sisters?" Diane asked once they'd been settled in and their drinks had arrived at the table. She stared at Mac with interest.
Mac took a sip of her iced tea, slightly concerned that Diane ordered the same thing. "Neither. . .I'm an only child."
"I have four brothers. . .three older than me and all in the Navy. My youngest brother, Robbie, he's a middie at Annapolis. He's going into crypto. . .The other three are scattered between one submarine, an LHA and a frigate. We all love the sea. Almost everyone in my family has been in the Navy." The rambling was a nervous trait of hers which she'd hoped would have passed as she grew older. "Where are you from?"
For the moment, Mac took the 'girlie' talk in stride though she'd much rather be at home going through rented movies from Blockbuster and relaxing in front of the couch. Somehow, four day old pizza didn't look so bad right about now. "Born in Arizona, then we moved around a lot. My father was a Marine."
"Was?"
Mac nodded. "He passed away earlier this year. . .my mother and I don't keep in touch." She said quickly, hoping to avoid the question which she sensed would come.
"I'm sorry." It was, perhaps, one of the first sincere statements that Diane had made. "I assume you have some Persian in you?"
"Ava, My grandmother on my mother's side was Iranian." When Mac was younger she found it odd that she looked so differently from her parents. The same thought that crossed her mind as a child held her thoughts back momentarily – maybe she had been adopted. Maybe the woman sitting across from her was related in some way. If that were so, she didn't feel anything special about Diane like so many people who had been separated from their families did.
Then she recalled a picture of Ava, the woman who she resembled so much it was uncanny. Ava, in her youth, had looked much like Mac save for the shape of her eyes and nose. She had married an Irish-American named Edgar O'Hara. Together, they had two children – Deanne and Matthew - but the Iranian gene hadn't been passed on to either of them. Matt and Deanne looked very much like their Irish father. Mac didn't seem to inherit a single gene off of either of her parents. She sighed at the memories and quickly put them to bed. "I think if it wasn't for your skin tone being so different from mine, I would have thought I had a twin somewhere. Kinda like 'The Parent Trap.'"
'The Parent Trap' was a Disney classic staring Haley Mills who played both Susan and Sharon, twins separated during infancy when their parents had decided to divorce. Years later, while at camp, the twins meet and formulate a plan to bring their parents together. "I have to admit, it was very odd seeing myself when I looked at you."
"It's still odd." Diane said with a frown. "Skin tone and all. . .you still look a lot like me." She'd asked her parents, repeatedly about anyone in the family resembling her. She'd even gone as far as to call her Aunt Dory which was now leaving in Vancouver with her husband and children. "My mother said I was crazy. . .Dad just laughed. . .I should send them a picture."
"Mmm." Mac wasn't so lucky. Her mother was as good as dead and Uncle Matt was at Leavenworth. The last thing she wanted to do was bother her Uncle and worry him over such a trivial matter. "What's your blood type?"
"AB Positive according to my dog tags." She grinned. "You?"
Mac breathed a sigh of relief. At least, where blood was concerned, they were quite far apart. "O Negative."
Diane too seemed to be relieved with the news. "No O's in our immediate family that I know of. . .So I guess we really aren't related." She smiled brightly and thanked the waitress who had arrived with their plates of food. After a first bite of her lasagna she decided to press onto a more challenging subject. "What do you think of Harm?"
Unprepared for that turn, Mac nearly turned purple trying not to choke on the tea that was now burning its way up her nasal cavity. "Uh." She took her napkin and blotted her face with it. "He's. . .he seems like a good guy." She said quickly whilst mentally cursing herself at acting so out of control.
"He is a good guy. . .Too good, I think." Diane preferred the bad boys, but there was something about Harm that always had her coming back. "He has this bad boy streak in him, but he is inherently good. . ..Harm's superhero complex drives me up a wall."
Having had her fair share of bad boys, Mac didn't quite understand what Diane was looking for in a man. If it was just a roll in the hay, there were others in the Navy and outside of the service who would likely be willing and able. "I like the type of guy who used to be into motorcycles and leather jackets and now wears a suit. . . or a uniform."
Though the last bit was uttered under her breath, Diane heard it clearly. She couldn't help but shoot back with a barb, "A pilot's uniform?"
Mac's eyebrow rose in annoyance. She was about to defend herself and give that 'client and attorney relationship is strictly professional' crap, but she knew that it would make her seem too defensive. Instead, she bit eagerly into her pizza and polished off the slice before commenting. "I'm partial to Marine Greens myself." And she left it at that for Diane to chew on. It was interesting though to see what Diane thought of her and it was clear that she wasn't happy at her involvement in Harm's case. "Back to the Commander, I am quite concerned about his case."
"Oh?" That had peaked Diane's interest for nothing more than her being nosy. "Is something wrong?"
"Lieutenant Mace's mother is what's wrong. . .She doesn't like the Navy much. I am just afraid she'll put this all on Commander Rabb and that wouldn't be fair." She wasn't giving away any information that people didn't already know. Senator Mace had often come out on ZNN with her want to push bills that took money away from the military.
"Yeah, so much for our government helping out. . .Pisses me off when people like that have the power."
"I agree." Mac's attempts to remain chummy with the other woman turned a corner quickly. She saw an opening and took it. "Where were you during the mishap?"
Diane glanced up with a question in her eyes. "In my bunk, reading. . .Why do you ask?"
"No reason. . .I was just curious why Kohanek seemed to have statements from so many people but yours wasn't there."
"Why should it be?"
Mac shrugged. "Mainly because other officers had seen you and Rabb arguing less than an hour before he shot off the deck. . .Maybe because two enlisted men on Vulture's Row claimed to have seen you there."
Diane blanched at the statement. "I was in my bunk, Mac." Her voice dripped with annoyance at being doubted on her whereabouts. "I was on Vulture's Row for a little while but headed inside because the wind was giving me a headache. But, I was definitely in my bunk during the crash. . .It scared the hell out of me."
Something about Diane's story never added up to Mac. Why had Kohanek questioned so many people and yet, none of them had mentioned Harm and Diane's argument until Cuyler? And why hadn't Cuyler told the Captain? If Kohanek was such a ball buster as he seemed, that stone would have been unearthed during the thorough questioning. "You do realize that the prosecution will pull you up to the stand because of the argument, don't you?"
If possible, Diane turned even whiter. "What? Why?" She nearly choked on the tea.
"It goes to the pilot's state of mind before and during the flight. . .The prosecution can say that Rabb wasn't ready to pilot a plane due to the argument and so he should have asked the CAG to ground him for the day. . .Hell, if it were me, I would claim that Commander Rabb was trying to commit suicide because the woman that he loves broke up with him." There are many interesting things inside a lawyer's bag of tricks. If they were any good, the moment one theory was shot down, another would be brought to life. Mac just prayed that she wouldn't wind up as prosecution on this particular case. Her own thoughts were starting to scare her.
'The woman he loves broke up with him.' Diane was tempted to ask if Harm had commented anything of the sort. To her recollection he'd never once told her that he loved her. She assumed he did but Harm wasn't very verbal with those kinds of emotions. A man with his looks didn't need to say 'I love you' to get a woman into bed either. "What's love got to do with anything?"
"Love is an antidote to instincts." She remembered Chegwidden telling her that once when she prosecuted a case of a Marine Sergeant in love with a Mossad spy. The Marine had claimed to never have given up military secrets and, in the end, the whole thing had been some CIA plot. The woman was a double agent.
"Harm wouldn't fly poorly because of some fight."
Mac sprinkled parmesan over her second slice of pizza. "Mmm. I've had clients sell military equipment to the enemy for the love of a woman. . .Nothing surprises me."
"You are talking as if he were guilty."
"No. I am talking like a lawyer who considers all possibilities to avoid being blind sided." She loved a good cheese pizza and the garlic rolls were to die for, that had been the best parts of the whole meal. The company could have been better, though she put to rest any demons of sharing a family with Diane.
Diane gripped her tea cup just a little tighter. She hated to be caught in the middle of Harm's stupid accident which is why she discussed the matter with Kohanek just after she'd peaked into sickbay to find Harm's unconscious form laying on a gurney, waiting to be transported off of the carrier. It wasn't news to anyone that they had dated but no one had really cared enough to make a fuss about it, except Kohanek who had asked the pair to keep their relationship troubles off of the ship.
What she had done to keep herself out of his reports was nothing short of blackmail. The false claims of sexual harassment that she threatened Kohanek with were enough to buy his silence. She didn't think to contend with the few other officers in the mess that day. "I'll be honest, I really do not want to be involved in this."
"Well, you are whether you like it or not." Mac's tone of voice left very little room for argument. "It's a big deal that some lawyers will base the whole case around. Trust me on that."
Diane sighed deeply, "Look, our relationship has never been a big deal. . .We've. . .had fun. . ." She trailed off, a Cheshire smile spreading across her lips. "He's incredible . . .If you get what I mean."
Mac 'got' the not so subtle innuendo and resisted the urge to cringe. "Loud and clear, thank you." She polished off her plate leaving only a few crumbs. Peaking at Diane's plate, she found much of the meal still intact. "Not hungry?"
"I don't eat much. . .Have to keep my girlish figure. . .I'm surprised that such a straight laced Marine had all that to eat." Diane said, with a hint of humor in her voice. She could imagine Mac having to work out double in order to pound the extra pizza slice out of her system. "You'll probably work it off tomorrow, I'm sure."
The one good piece of Mac's life had been her diet. No matter what she ate, her weight wouldn't change much. She still needed to work out in order to maintain the muscle tone on her body, but she could wolf down a few burgers and it wouldn't affect her ass or thighs. God may have given her a rough life, but he provided her with the ability to have a healthy body. "Actually, no. . . .According to my doctor, I have an accelerated metabolism. . .I don't gain weight."
"I see. . .Well, I better get going." Without much fanfare, Diane pulled out a twenty and placed it on the center of the table. "Have a good day, Mac."
"You too, Diane." She smiled only to seem pleasant, but pleasantries would come to an eventual end if Harm's case got as far as Mac believed it to. Sighing deeply, she prayed for a miracle that would keep Diane off of the stand. The woman was liable to blow a hole in Harm's case and then some.
0745 Local
Sunday
Rock Creek Park
Washington, DC.
One foot propped up against the front bumper of his Vintage Corvette, Harm bent down to tie the laces of his running shoe. It was silly for him to decide to run considering that his ribs still bore pain when he did certain activities. He would be damned if he ever listened to a thing that anyone in the medical profession ever said. With a sigh, he glanced at the wooded area before him and the small path that led to the running trail.
Rock Creek Park had been his sanctuary away from life in general. He always found that a good run helped maintain his perspective on things. "Alright, Hammer." He glanced down at the paved road with minor trepidation and pushed off. Trotting lightly, his feet gently pounded the pavement, trying to remember an act that now felt so foreign. He'd always been a good runner, learning to go the distance when he'd joined Track in High School.
Harm hadn't taken into account that the pain to his ribs would make his body practically beg for air. No more than two minutes into his run, he was hunched against a tree, trying to force his body to breathe normally. His therapist had said it would be a while before he was one hundred percent. Perhaps he shouldn't have spent his whole Saturday laying in bed.
Sighing, he pushed himself away from the tree opting to walk a bit rather than jog. It was then that he spotted a familiar face and for a moment, he nearly ran the other way. 'Diane doesn't like running' He recalled, remembering a time too many when she'd bitched at him for getting up too early in order to get in a few miles before starting his day. No, it was most defiantly not Diane, she wouldn't even be up so early on a Sunday while in port. "Major MacKenzie." He huffed out as she passed and watched expectantly, hoping that he wouldn't need to run after her.
The familiar voice was, again, not welcomed. It stopped Mac dead in her tracks and urged her to turn around. "This really isn't my weekend." She said abruptly and with a touch of resentment. Next time Mac had a long weekend off, she as going to head OUT of Washington. Mac had already bumped into two people too many.
Harm knew by the look in her eyes that she wasn't interested in having any type of conversation with him, no matter if it was only a greeting. Sensing her displeasure, he took a few steps backward. "I'm sorry, Major. . .I am just accustomed to greeting people that I know. . .Have a good run." He flashed her a quick grin and then headed off in the opposite direction, jogging lightly – very lightly. Fine, so he walked away, shoulders slouched like a child that had been repremaded.
Mac watched him go, sighing deeply. The last thing she wanted was for the man to take things the wrong way. "Comm. . .Harm, wait." She jogged up to him and then brought her hands up in defense. "Sorry. . I'm normally not so rude." Smiling now, she gave him a once over finding him a little too pale for her taste. "Are you alright?"
"No." If it were anyone else, he'd lie. Given the circumstances, she could see right through him anyway. "I ah. . .hellheh. I should've listened to my therapist." He rubbed a sore spot over his ribs and sighed.
He looked good all sweaty, Mac realized as she drank in the sight of him in running shorts and a dark blue sleeveless shirt. His arms were chiseled, showing off the muscle beneath his skin as he moved. She shook off her wayward thoughts. "How about I buy you coffee?"
Not one to usually give up, Harm did so easily, he could always tackle a good run some other day. Besides, it was hard to say 'no' to a beautiful woman in form fitting black running pants and a slightly tight, light pink shirt. Even drenched in sweat the woman looked gorgeous. "I'd like that, thanks."
Harm followed her to a local coffee shop and soon they were sitting in a booth, each with a bagel and coffee. "They have the absolute best sun dried tomato bagels ever." Mac took a bite, savoring the mixture of dough with honey walnut cream cheese. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the taste, not realizing that a certain Naval officer was sitting there, mouth hanging open.
Harm briefly wondered if that's what she looked like every time Mac felt pleasure. He could feel his heart racing inside of his chest, threatening to jump out at any moment. He reached for the coffee and took a big gulp, wincing as the hot fluid burned his throat. It also offered to put his thoughts back in place. "Ahem." He cleared his throat hoping to get her attention.
Popping an eye open, Mac blushed slightly. "Sorry." It had been quite a while since she'd felt that at ease with anyone and wasn't about to press the logic behind it. "Anyway. . .How is the rehab going?"
He shrugged and unconsciously placed a hand on his ribs. "They keep saying that I am lucky not to have broken both my legs when I landed. . .I think a leg injury is better than this." At least with a leg injury, it could have been placed in a cast and allowed to heal properly, ribs was an entirely different situation.
"You're alive, Harm. Despite having painful injuries, life is more important."
It was true that most people didn't quite appreciate life. Those who survived near fatal accidents often came out of it with a new perception but that didn't apply to Harm who couldn't stop thinking about ways that both himself and Reaper could have survived. "What about the painful memories?"
Mac reached out and placed a hand over his own; an astonishing touch that felt welcomed and warm beneath her fingers. "I won't tell you that they'll go away. . .Not completely, but they do get easier to cope with."
A simple touch and yet, it was ungluing Harm. "You sound like someone who's gone through a bad experience or two."
"Try a lifetime's worth. . ." Divulging information about herself to her friends was one thing, but a total stranger – Harm still was a stranger – was another. Sighing, Mac thought back a moment, curious if her hatred towards her father stemmed from her mother leaving or Joe MacKenzie's own inadequacies. "My father was an abusive drunk and my mother left me with him on my fifteenth birthday. . .I have a collection of bad memories. Each categorized in my head. . ." Joe tried, really he did. But, to a teenager, a kid, it just wasn't enough.
It was almost unfathomable for Harm to see anything but a strong, confidant woman before him. He knew about Diane's past and the charmed life she'd had as the only daughter in the Schonke family. Her parents truly adored their children, always willing to go the extra mile to make sure they were well cared for and happy. In some ways, it had made Diane somewhat of a brat. Now, staring at her relative twin, Harm had trouble considering the 'bad childhood theory.' "I'm sorry to hear about that." He reached across the table and placed a hand on her own.
A touch so normal, almost natural, something many people do to console a friend, yet it seemed otherworldly and exquisite. It was right and wrong at the same time. Fire and ice and Mac wanted to be consumed in it so much that it scared her. Abruptly, she removed her hand from his, momentarily contemplating why she'd engage in such a gesture anyway. "It's fine."
"So. . .Is there anything new with my case?" Harm said, his voice hitching slightly, the only sign that the touch had moved him as much as it had her. Any magic that was woven between them dissipated and he thanked God for that. At the moment, he wasn't ready for love. Or whatever this was.
"Nothing new since the other night, no." She thought about that for a moment and opted to push the Diane subject. "Actually. . .that's not true." Taking the coffee mug before her, Mac took a gulp and placed it back down. "It's about Lieutenant Schonke."
Harm visibly cringed. After it happened he had a feeling that the argument with Diane would come to bite him in the ass. "About the argument?"
"Yes. Someone else mentioned it in their statements. I just found it odd that the Captain never questioned her about it."
"Why would it matter if he did or didn't?"
"Kohanek has a bug up his six with everyone. If he did such a thorough investigative job as he wanted to, he would have taken Cuyler to his word and noted that he saw the argument."
This had been the second time she'd brought up the argument. The first time he couldn't really wrap his head around the concept, now it was slightly insulting. Could it be that people thought he'd try to hurt himself due to an argument with a woman? "Mac, I didn't crash because of an argument. . .I was upset, yes, but not enough to try to kill myself if that's what you're going for."
Tilting her head to the side, Mac noted his expression. He didn't quite seem to believe what he was saying. "You wouldn't be the first person who did something wrong because they were worried about their girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend." Harm defended quickly and then relented with a huff. "Alright, so she was my girlfriend. But, if our arguments affected the way that I flew then I would have dropped out of the skies a good ten times before. . . You sound like a prosecutor."
"I am asking questions that a prosecutor would ask in case we get that far. I don't find any pleasure in this. . .I just need to know." Still, she wondered if her 'need to know' was truly due to her want to protect her client or morbid curiosity into his relationship. "Look, why don't we just drop. . ."
"Does anyone ever call you Sarah?" He interrupted; the question coming out of deep left field. It was something that had been bugging him for a while. Though 'Mac' was a cute name and it did seem to fit her, 'Sarah' was a beautiful name for an equally beautiful lady.
Mac opened and closed her mouth several times, but a response was difficult to come by on the tack that they were suddenly in. She'd never been speechless before, at least, not that she could remember or to the degree of being dumbstruck. If Harm was gearing towards getting her off the scent, it certainly worked and she felt like an idiot for it. "Uh. . .I. . .ah." Mac's cheeks flushed, her eyes widened. It took a swallow or two of tepid coffee to get her brain functioning again.
Try as he might, Harm couldn't hide the smirk. The question hadn't been an intentional missile aimed directly at its target, but he had to admit that he liked the collateral damage. It was cute seeing her flustered. "It's not a trick question, Mac."
"Isn't it?" She was annoyed that he seemed so pleased with himself. Had it been a different situation, it was likely that she'd use bodily force on him, and not the good kind either. As it was, she wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off of his face.
The temperature between them seemed to plunge drastically and Harm opted to swallow his pride and save himself from being on the receiving end of infamous Marine ire. "Sorry. . .I was just curious. . .I mean, no one, except mom and my grandmother ever call me 'Harmon.' It's always been 'Harm.'. . ." When her look, steely and threatening, didn't change, he opted for a different piece of information. "I have a plane named 'Sarah.'" He smiled at the admission, unknowingly shoving his foot into his mouth. "An old bi-plane that I restored. . .You know many pilots named their planes after women in their lives."
It wasn't a mystery that many men have named their planes after the women they loved. Same thing happened to sailing vessels and the automobile. A time honored tradition and Mac's curiosity got the best of her. "That's nice." She couldn't imagine just how wonderful a woman had to be in order to have a planed named after her – a true Aphrodite of our times. For the briefest of seconds, Mac lowered her defenses, wondering about Harm's past loves and the 'Sarah' he named his plane after. "Do you love her?"
Tables turned slightly, Harm lost his advantage. The question was hard to stomach as he immediately thought of Diane. Did he love her? Perhaps once he thought he loved her. But now. . . "Who? Diane?"
Mac shook her head. "No, 'Sarah.'"
A wide grin stretched across his face and he couldn't help but chuckle slightly. Once again, the table turned towards his favor. "I'm wild about her."
"Oh." For the second time that evening, she felt her heart plummet to the ground and, this time, couldn't hide the dissatisfaction. "Lucky lady." Her head lowered down, eyes scanning through the remnants of her coffee.
Without notice, Harm's hand had reached across the table, his index finger catching just under her chin as he lifted her head up. "She's my grandmother."
She probably should have been upset at Harm baiting her, but in truth, Mac was relieved to know that his plane wasn't named after a lover. "Do you fly 'Sarah' much?"
Harm shrugged and sat back. "Not as much as I like, but enough." It was silly of him to entertain ideas of taking Mac flying and still, Harm walked himself into that trap. "I could take you up sometime."
Of course, she'd been on a plane before, commercial and military flights where big planes were used. Most of the bi-planes that she'd heard of meant that cables were exposed and safety measures were practically nil. Not to mention that the damned things were usually built a good fifty plus years ago. "I don't know."
"I think you would really enjoy it." He studied her expression and then conjured up a sweet, sweet offer than she couldn't resist. "It will give you an idea of what happened up there. . .Except that this is much safer." Harm could tell the wheels were turning in her head and before she had a chance to object, he shot from the hip. "We can head out tomorrow morning, I'll have you back before Lunch."
Harm wasn't pleading, not yet anyway, but Mac could see that cute, pouting, little boy look start to form. When his eyes locked fully onto hers, she was a goner. "Well, I really don't have too much to do tomorrow." Her plans of relaxing at home had already been partially obliterated, not that she minded parts of it. In truth, there were worst things to do than spend time with Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Junior. Yes, she was going to give in, hook, line and sinker. "What time?"
