Title: Take My Hand

Summary: Lifeline post-ep. Does more really need to be said?

Take My Hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you.

-Elvis Pressley (although I was listening to the Kacey Musgraves version when this popped in my head.)

Harm -

She's leaving, and my heart is breaking. Shattering. She's going inside; she's going to return to her fiancé's side, and no matter how clueless I can be when it comes to women and relationships and her, I know I'll never recover from this. From losing her. I can't do it. I can't lose her. I can't watch her marry him.

The next few years – decades – play through my mind. Her marrying him. Her belly rounded with their children. Then seeing the spark slowly fade from her as she goes through life married to a man incapable of making her happy. I see myself with Renee until she eventually grows tired of me and moves on to a man who can give her the life she wants. I see myself with women who seem to get younger as I get older. Women who don't want anything from me other than fun and excitement and then leave when they grow up and realize they want more than the shallow excuse for a relationship I'm able to offer them. I see myself unable to offer anyone anything because I know I'll never feel for anyone a fraction of what I feel for her, so what's even the point?

"Don't go," I blurt out.

She freezes with her hand on the door, and we're both still. We're still and quiet, and even though I can hear people laughing and talking inside, it sounds like they're miles and miles away. We're not alone – not really, but it feels like we are.

"Don't go, Mac," I say quietly.

"Harm," she whispers, her back still to me.

I've never been drawn to a woman's back before, but hers is beautiful. I step closer and place a hand on the warm skin just above the soft fabric of her dress. "Don't go," I say for the third time. "Don't marry him."

She turns to me and presses her lips together. I know she's trying to keep from crying, and she will lose that battle. I've seen her cry more times than I care to count. Hell, I've made her cry a few of those times. I trail my finger over her cheek. "He's not right for you," I say. "He won't make you happy."

She sucks in a breath, and one tear rolls down her cheek. I brush the tear away and then move my hands to her waist. I pull her away from the Admirals' door with its flimsy shade and into a part of the porch that's almost entirely dark. I move my hands from her waist to her back and feel a jolt of… of everything… when she shivers at my touch, and not for the first time, I imagine her trembling in my bed.

"Don't marry him," I repeat. "Please, Mac. Don't marry him."

She puts her hands against my chest, and after a moment's hesitation, she pushes back. "Why?"

I swallow hard and reach for her again. I can't stop touching her now that the dam has been broken. My thumbs graze her collarbones, and then my hands move up and down her arms. "You know why," I say softly.

Her eyes flash, and she puts her hands against my chest again and gives me a shove, and I stumble backward. I grab onto the railing to keep from falling, and we stare at each other with wide eyes – hers full of fire. "No, I don't know why," she hisses. "If I knew why, I wouldn't have to ask." She stares at me for another moment, then shakes her head and turns away in disgust.

She takes a step to the door and my self-control breaks. No. No. I won't let everything I'm hanging on to become a noose. Instead, I grab her hand and pull her back to me. I put my hands on her shoulders, turn her to me, and then put my hand under her chin to tilt her face. She needs to look at me – to see me.

"Don't marry him," I say, "because he won't make you happy. He's controlling and pathetic; you'll become a shell of yourself attempting to please him. Don't marry him because you deserve more than someone who uses manipulation to get his way."

She opens her mouth, and I cover it with my hand. "Don't marry him because you and I both know you've never kissed him like you kissed me tonight." I glance down at her breasts and remember her chest's dramatic rise and fall once we pulled apart. "And neither have I."

And then I pull my hand away, and I kiss her again. She goes rigid at first, then melts against me as she did earlier. And this kiss is even better than that one, which I didn't think was possible. Our whole bodies are flush this time, and her mouth opens to me without hesitation. This kiss was slow instead of frenzied, and this kiss felt decisive.

I move my hands over her, touching as much skin as I can before finally resting them on her ass and tugging her even closer to me. I want her to feel me – feel how I react to a kiss from her. She gasps against my mouth and then pulls back.

She's breathless, and her eyes now look positively wild. She brings her fingers to her lips, and we stare at one another while we try to get our breathing under control. "What if we – this – doesn't work," she asks quietly.

I can't stop touching her, and I reach up to brush her hair off of her beautiful face. "Then it doesn't work," I say, knowing I can't make her any promises. "But I know I'll regret it for the rest of my life if we don't try." I hold my hand out to her, and she looks down at it. I can't tell what she's thinking, but she ignores my hand and presses her lips together.

"I need – I need a minute," she says.

I nod, prepared to take a step back, give her room to breathe, and then get back to what we were doing. But she takes a deep breath, turns away from me, walks back to the side door, and pulls it open before I can say anything.

Mac -

Harm's words and kisses are rolling around in my head, and I can't escape the memory of what just happened out there. Or that I don't love him. Love Mic that is. I don't love him; I never have. And I know that I never will. I scan the crowded room until I find him and see him holding court in the middle of the room. A circle of beautiful women surrounds him, and he looks happier than I've seen him in a long time.

He's offered me everything I want – marriage and family, the stability I never had as a little girl in a dysfunctional home. But I can't give him what he wants. I can't love him. I can't look at him with adoring eyes when he turns on the Aussie charm like these women. And after tonight, I can't even give him the promise of fidelity. I know – I feel it deep in my soul – that it'll only be a matter of time before Harm and I are alone somewhere, and we end up in bed.

I can't marry him; I've made enough mistakes and already been an adulteress once. I can't do it again. I can't put him, myself, or Harm in that situation.

I take a deep breath and make my way across the room. He looks up, and his smile falters as soon as he sees me. "Do you mind if I borrow him for a second," I ask. Carolyn looks like she wants to playfully argue, but Mic steps away from their group without a word and follows me to the guest room, where everyone has left their coats and purses.

He pushes the door shut, and I take a deep breath before turning to face him. His eyes are cool, and his jaw is clenched, and I know he knows what's coming. I tug off the ring and extend it to him. "I'm sorry," I say quietly.

He looks at the ring for a moment and then tentatively takes it. "Rabb?"

I shake my head. "I won't lie to you anymore. There are feelings there. But I can't be what you need, Mic."

"How do you know what I need?"

I take a deep breath. "I know you need a wife who will love and cherish you, and that's not me."

"You don't love me," he says slowly, and I shake my head.

"I wanted to," I say. "And there was a time when I thought maybe I could grow to love you. But I – but I don't. And I'm sorry."

He stares at me, and I'm desperate for him to say or do something. To yell at me, to call me a slut. Something, anything. But he doesn't; he just stares. Then he drops the ring in his pocket and reaches for the door. "I'll come by tomorrow to get my things."

I nod, and then he opens the door to leave, and I'm following him when a high-pitched voice causes me to stop in my tracks.

"Go. To. Hell."

It's Renee, and she's a loud woman in general, but she's yelling at Harm as if they're in a crowded bar and not an intimate house party.

The room goes silent, and we all watch as she pulls back and slugs him before whipping around and turning her attention to me. "And you can go to hell too."

Mic looks from me to her and then back to me. "Good luck," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away from me.

Everyone is staring at me, and they're not even trying to be discrete about it. When the whispering starts, I can't take it anymore. I return to the guest room for my things, give the Admiral a very, very strangled 'thank you,' and then I all but run out of the house and to my judgment-free car.

"Where are you going?"

It's Harm, and he's standing by my Corvette, and I let out a breath. I finger the keys I'm holding and briefly think of Mic and how he'll get home since we rode together. But then Harm steps closer, and all thoughts of Mic are gone.

"Home," I say.

He straightens and steps closer. "Where's Brumby?"

I shrug and hold up my newly unadorned left hand. "I don't know," I say. "It isn't my concern anymore."

He sucks in a breath and closes the space between us. He extends his hand to me, and I tentatively take it. His fingers wrap around mine, and he takes a moment to rub the bare skin where the engagement ring used to be.

"What's next," I ask, my voice so low I'm surprised he can even hear me.

"I have no idea." He brings my hand up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on my wrist. "Whatever we want, I guess." I press my lips together, and he cocks his head to study me. "What do you want, Mac?"

"You," I say, exhaling slowly when he smiles. "Just you."

"You've got me," he says. Then he takes the keys from me and opens the door. "Meet me at my place?"

I want to argue, but he leans down and brushes his lips across mine – a soft, quick kiss that still manages to be full of promise. "Mine's closer," he whispers.

I can't argue with that reasoning, so I smile and nod. "I'll meet you there," I say. He kisses me again, waits until I'm settled into the car, and then breaks into a jog to get to his own. I watch his taillights come on and watch him pull out of the makeshift lot and onto the driveway. I take a deep breath and follow him. I don't know what'll happen or where this will go, but I'm not anxious or afraid for once. I've got him. For now, possibly for the rest of my life. And I feel a rush of excitement as I accelerate and follow him home.

The End.