Disclaimer: Don't own
A/N: I figure if Harm can quote Robert Browning after he hits his head, he can quote Ezra Pound when he's in full possession of his faculties.
--
JAG HQ
Three weeks later
1005 Local
Mac entered her office. This was her favourite time of day in here. Her window faced south-east, so the room would bask in late morning sunlight. It invariably lifted her spirits. This particular morning, something altogether else in the office caught her wonder: a gorgeous bouquet of light pink orchids was sitting in a vase on her desk. Mac stared, breath caught. Heart stumbled.
There was a card resting against the vase, with her name written in Harm's Spartan script. Sarah. Her hand, against all reason and despite her best efforts, shook as she reached for the cream envelope. She was being silly, she thought, getting so emotional over a bouquet of flowers.
But this was Harm. Sending her flowers. At work. For no apparent reason.
She would treasure this one moment. Sunlight on pink petals. The subtle fragrance of flowers amidst case files and military protocol. A silent gesture of love in the hustle of everyday life.
She slipped the card out of the envelope, her heart beating in her chest even as she tried to coax it down from its high. Her eyes skimmed over the words he inscribed for her, memorizing them in just one sweep.
My days are not full enough without thoughts of you.
She grinned, recognizing the line and his play on it. She laughed, holding the card to her chest, looking at the flowers. How absolutely wonderful.
Mac floated around the desk, drifted into seat on her chair, flipped on the computer, a smile on her lips. And while the computer whirred and people shuffled about their work outside her office, Mac stared at the flowers, her smile ever-present.
A soft knock sounded at her door. She looked up to see Harriet enter.
"Ma'am?" Harriet was ready to speak when her attention was caught by the flowers. "Wow." Awe filled her voice. She looked at Mac, a silent question in her eyes. Mac could only grin back.
"The Commander has really good taste," Harriet said, the wistfulness in her voice putting Mac on alert. "They're beautiful."
"They are," Mac sighed in agreement, feeling all squishy inside with giddiness.
"Here's the duty roster for the month, for you to sign off on." She handed Mac the folder, her attention still fixed on the flowers.
"Thanks, Harriet." Mac frowned, wondering what was up with the younger woman. She was usually much more talkative. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine, Ma'am. Thank you." Harriet said absently.
"And the baby?"
Harriet rubbed a hand over her belly, still looking longingly at the flowers. "Just perfect."
Mac's frown deepened. Something was up ... "I'll have it back to by lunch time," She said, indicating the file.
"Yes, Ma'am." Harriet gave a final, wistful look at the flowers before returning to her desk.
Mac watched her leave, lips pursed in thought. She caught sight of Bud walking by her office and called out to him.
"Bud!"
He halted mid-stride and swung into her office. "Good morning, Ma'am." He grinned in greeting.
"Morning, Bud." Mac returned his smile, but it faded as she wondered how to go about this next bit. Bud saved her any further thought with his next sentence.
"Oh, orchids. You know, Ma'am," He looked from the flowers to her, "On this one episode of Star Trek Voyager, Tuvok once grafted a South American orchid to a Vulcan favinit plant, and the hybrid was stronger than any had been before. It was a metaphor for the strength of alliances."
Bud looked expectantly at her.
Mac stared at Bud. She had no idea what to say to that.
She decided to jump right in, figuring some of what had Harriet looking at the flowers with such longing. This man needed all some help in the romance department. What the hell was a Tuvok anyways. "How's Harriet been lately, Bud?"
Bud frowned. "Fine. I think." He glanced over his shoulder to where Harriet was sitting at her desk, immersed in work.
"Well," He amended when faced with Mac's sceptical silence. "She has been tired lately, with the pregnancy. Little AJ takes a lot out of her. And organizing his birthday party was a lot of work..." He trailed off, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow.
"You're right, Bud," Mac nudged him in the direction he needed to go. "She does need a break. Good thinking. You should take her for a night out. I don't mind watching little AJ for you."
Bud looked at Mac, confused by the turn in the conversation. "I, well—"
"Tomorrow works just fine for me, Bud." She gave him a warm smile, "I can be at your place at 1900."
"Uh, okay." He looked about Mac's office as though trying to get his bearings, and then turned to leave the room.
"Oh, and Bud?"
"Yes, Ma'am?" He turned back around to face her.
"Here." She gave him the florist's card which was tucked between the orchids on her desk. "Flowers are a wonderful idea."
"Uh, yes, Ma'am." He left her office, still looking quite dazed, and crossed paths with Harm who was just entering.
"What did you do to the poor man?" Harm asked her, watching the confused Lieutenant cross the bullpen.
"Played Cupid." She grinned up at him. "I have a lot invested in those two."
He grinned back at her. Their eyes locked and the steady hum of the bullpen faded to silence, sunlight shone golden in the tiny office space.
"Thanks for the flowers." She bit her lip, overcome by a sudden shyness. She was being silly, she told herself, but she couldn't help it. This was just so wonderful. She never would've pegged him as a romantic before they started dating. But he was just full of surprises. Endearments and chocolate bars and flowers.
"You're welcome, French Fry." He kept smiling at her, leaning against her doorframe.
And they stood there, ears muted to all sound, eyes only for each other.
A throat cleared heavily, invading their silent bubble. They both visibly jumped, and Mac was dismayed to find the admiral standing behind Harm. She stood at attention.
"At ease," He waved them both down.
Mac sat back down. They really had to stop acting like this when the admiral was around. And he really needed to stop popping up whenever they were caught in a moment.
"Commander," Chegwidden intoned with no small degree of longsuffering impatience. "When you see fit to let the Colonel get back to her duties, would you be so kind as to report to my office to discuss the McTierney case. I realize that our appointment was only scheduled to begin a mere 5 minutes ago, and I would hate to be a thorn in your side, being only a lowly two star, but I do have a schedule to keep."
"Yes, Sir." Harm stumbled in apology, looking even more embarrassed than Mac felt. "My apologies, Sir. I lost track of time—"
"Just –" The admiral shook his head in exasperation. He settled for an eloquent eye-roll. "I don't want to hear it. Report to my office immediately." He turned on his heel and returned to his office, muttering as he went.
"Busted," He grinned at Mac, and winked before following the Admiral to his office, seeming not in the least bit perturbed about the potential ass-chewing he might get.
She smiled, watching him catch up to the admiral in long strides. The smile didn't leave her face the entire workday.
--
Mac's Apartment
That same evening
1729 Local
Harm threw some rose petals into the bathtub, feeling a little stupid for even doing it. Except he remembered that drawing a bath with rose water and throwing in rose petals made women weak in the knees. Or so he'd read in one of those issues of Playboy that made the rounds, hidden under mattresses and between textbooks at the Academy. Not that he'd share that with Mac, should she ask.
He was on a mission, and any means necessary was justified to achieve his goal. Even taking tips from Playboy. He'd sent her a massive bouquet of orchids – which the florist had told him turned most women to mush. He'd made her an intensely romantic dinner, and though he usually preferred cooking in his own kitchen, her apartment had a bathtub. He'd even scattered rose petals on the dining table and lit lots of candles. In some ways, if he thought about it, the way he was with Mac was anathema to anything he'd ever even conceived of doing for a woman, of behaving with a woman. Usually just making a date pasta for dinner floored her, made her putty in his hands. He didn't really have to work hard it.
Except he really, really wanted Mac to agree to marry him, and he figured pulling out all stops with this romance business was likely to persuade her. And she was ... different. Special. Just thinking of her brought a smile to his face, a glow in his chest.
He took a levelling breath. He looked down at his clothes, black slacks and a light blue shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Top two buttons undone. It wasn't one of his favourite shirts, but he knew she loved it. Another calming breath. He fingered the ring in his pocket. She would be here soon, and she would take a bath and then eat dinner and then eat dessert and then say yes to marrying him. Knock on wood.
"Harm?" Her voice drifted in from the living room. His heart caught in his throat. Show time.
"Hey, Mac," He crossed the living room to take the vase of orchids from her hands. She rewarded him with a long, slow kiss.
"Mm," She smiled up at him, eyes sparkling. "Thanks," She whispered.
He couldn't find any words through his nerves and his awe of how lovely she looked coming home to him.
"Smells great in here," She eyed the table as she toed off her shoes. "Candles?" Her grin doubled. Her eyes locked on his as she trailed a finger down his neck, between the opening of his shirt.
He laughed at her blatant advances. "Just you wait, Sweet thing. I have a surprise for you. In the bathroom."
Her face folded into a frown. "Bathroom?" She spared him a curious glance before heading into her room.
He set the flowers on the table and followed her.
She was standing at the entrance to the washroom, mouth hanging open as she stared at her bathtub filled with rose petals, lined with flickering candles.
"You..." She turned to look at him, eyes filled with a silent amazement. He grinned, feeling pretty damn confident: he put that look on her face. A few more steps and she'd say yes.
"Get in, Mac," He tilted his chin to the bathtub, "Before the water gets cold. I'll finish up dinner."
A slow, seductive smile lifted the corner of her lips, "You won't be joining me?" It was as near a pout as he'd ever seen her wear. His brain snapped, fizzled, went silent.
He swallowed hard as she walked up to him. Slowly, her fingers started unbuttoning his shirt. She pressed soft kisses against his skin. His eyes fell shut in enjoyment. As a fleeting thought, he knew he was supposed to be doing ... something. She pushed his shirt off his chest, her hands skimming along his bare shoulders. What was he supposed to be doing? It was important...
He opened his eyes to see her slowly stripping out of her uniform, unsnapping each button one by one, her eyes fixed on his, inviting, teasing. As if by instinct, he took over the task of divesting her of clothes, unable to think beyond the image of her nude in a tub full of warm water and rose petals and him.
Anything else could surely wait.
Later...
Harm held Mac as she slowly faded to sleep, nestled into his chest and a tangle of bed sheets. He couldn't blame her. He could barely see straight himself. He grinned: sex just kept getting better and better between them. He wondered if it would change once they were married—
Shit.
The ring was still in his pants pocket. Damn it. Harm groaned in frustration. And where the hell were his pants? Probably still in the washroom.
He completely forgot. He was supposed to romance her and propose, and instead she'd looked at him with that ... that look on her face and all thought had fled from his ridiculously single-minded brain, and he'd let her distract him not only in the bathtub but then in bed. Twice.
Harm closed his eyes. Damn it. How was he supposed to top a vase full of flowers, a bath with rose petals and a candlelit dinner – a dinner they hadn't even eaten because they'd gotten too caught up in the bath and then the bed.
Harm sighed. Now what? It would take him a long time to come up with a plan as good as this one was ... He felt her shift slightly in her sleep, nuzzle closer into him. Her warm breath fanned his skin.
It's okay, Hammer, he smiled into the darkness; she's worth it.
As a last thought, he wondered if Playboy had published any new tips since his Academy Days...