Title: In It With You
Author: Me
Rating: T for now
Summary: Two years have passed since he last saw Mac. But when Harm gets in trouble for assaulting a junior officer, she is the only person he could count on.
AN: So there were 4 endings filmed for JAG. In one, Harm and Mac go their separate ways without any talk about a relationship at all. They had "nothing else to say" or so the info I had said.
So for this story there was no kissing in his apartment or engagement celebration at McMurphys. They simply go their separate ways and haven't spoken in two years. This is a shipper story and clearly Harm is not over her. ;-)
Chapter 1
It was a brisk morning for a run. One that required tights, long sleeved shirts and a cap to keep his head warm. The city was barely awake as he made his way to the river dotted by buildings still illuminated like the infamous monoliths they were. Big Ben chimed the top of the early hour and as Harm ran across the London bridge the reality of his life hit home.
Running in London wasn't much different than running in Washington, Harm decided. The historic buildings were larger, older and definitely had more stories between those walls than America's relatively short history. But once you ran past them a few days a week, it was just as mundane and sometimes a little boring.
He considered joining the run club on base in hopes that the right running partner would make his sport more pleasant but few could match his pace. There was a woman in the club, a Navy Commander that worked in a different department and looked absolutely stunning in tiny pink shorts and a 'Fly Navy' racerback. She was smart and funny and fun but that crashed and burned after three dates.
Harm just wasn't ready to invest his time, heart or emotions into a significant other. Renee had been exhausting enough for three lifetimes and the woman he really wanted - well, it was best not to dwell on her.
The miles were short compared to other mornings but an early meeting with one of his senior officers meant a short workout or none at all. He opted for the former. Running kept his energy high and his mind sharp. It made him less of a bear that having his own command pulled out of hibernation.
Harm actually felt bad for Chegwidden and the years of stupid desicions and exploits he'd put the man through. An attorney in his command acted just the same although Harm never believed he was this foolish or reckless. Nevertheless, it was far better to face his wrath than that of the General who already saw all sailors as unsquared away, lazy officers. For once, Harm agreed.
Naval Air Forces Europe was a complete and utter disaster when he arrived. It took weeks of interviews with personnel and a whole lot of inter-office drama to get it on even keel. At the request of the base CO, Admiral Hollings, he kept one senior officer who had proved to be the biggest pain in the ass the Navy ever produced - Lt. Commander Gregory Vukovic.
Admiral Hollings had all but placed the younger officer as Harm's Chief of Staff and while the younger officer had potential, his mouth got him into far too much trouble.How the man made it through OCS was anyone's guess. There were rumors of course and Harm hoped a night of male bonding would divulge a few of his secrets.
Instead, his life would be turned upside down when, after a few pints of ale, Vukovic breached an uncharted subject: "Permission to speak freely?"
Harm shrugged, "We're not at work and not in uniform, you can speak whatever you like, Commander."
"Vic."
"What?"
Vukovic balanced on the edge of his barstool and seemed far too amused. "Vic. Everyone calls me Vic. Can I call you Harm, Captain?"
He knew better than to engage, a little voice in the back of Harm's head warned him not to cross that boundary. Not even Bud nor Harriet would ever use his first name despite a decade of friendship, they always seemed embarrassed when he insisted.
Maybe it was the alcohol or the six months without anyone to really connect with. Maybe he'd simply lost his fucking mind. "Sure, why not? We're off duty."
Harm didn't know the grenade that Vukovic would drop into his lap or even the crass nature of Admiral Holling's golden boy. But the venom that spewed so callously from Vic's mouth forced Harm to tip his hand.
"Harm's an interesting name."
"It was my father's name. Short for Harmon." Although he never cared for his formal name and may have changed it if it didn't hold such significance. "Looks pretty damned good on the side of a fighter jet."
Vic's demeanor changed then, his obvious jealousy for the Navy's poster boy showing on his face. Harm had it all - the guts, the glory and a hero's resume that sounded like Tom Cruise in various action movies. But, there was one thing Harm had which he craved the most. "How long were you fucking her, Harm?"
He may have missed part of the question as an old Led Zeppelin tune began to play off an ancient jukebox but when Vic asked a second time, he used her name. "You know? Mac. Scuttlebutt was wild at HQ. Did they? Didn't they? I tried to nail her once, thought my game was pretty solid and then you called. One fucking call and the woman slipped from my fingers. That's when I knew the rumors were true."
"What?" He hadn't heard that right. He couldn't have heard a junior officer speaking in such a way about two senior officers. The thought of Vic nailing Mac or that he believed she'd even be interested was preposterous. "What did you just say?"
The idiot was too inebriated to see the daggers shooting from Harm's eyes or the balled up fist ready to strike. Vic had the audacity to throw an arm over his new drinking buddy and whisper conspiringly as if the two men shared a dark secret. "I bet she fucking wild in bed? Those uptight, bitchy women always are. All proper in public and in bed, a complete freak."
Vukovic continued speaking, each sentence a vile attempt at painting Mac as a company whore that many men had a turn with. He hoped to group himself with such elite service men and find camaraderie with Harm who Vic assumed was Mac's last jilted lover.
"I'd take her from behind, hard and-"
It was when the description of how to please such a woman commenced that Harm fully sobered. His fist balled tighter and without taking aim he landed a direct blow to Vic's nose breaking it instantly. The second and final punch was to the younger man's midsection and he might have felt sweet satisfaction at hearing the air rush out of Vukovick's lungs as he dropped to the ground.
They were kicked out of the pub minutes later and despite his better judgment, Harm drove to the hospital where the two men sat in a busy emergency waiting room for the staff to set Vukovic's nose. "Not that I need to defend her to you Vic but, Colonel MacKenzie is nothing of what you've heard. Those rumors are vile and I will not stand by while a piece of shit like you defaces her name."
"I apologize, sir. It will never happen again, sir." Vic held a blood soaked dishrag against his nose. His voice, a little high pitched, muffled and nasally. Harm couldn't be sure but each time he shifted, the younger man braced for impact. It was actually a little comical.
"Good. On Monday I expect you to be in my office at 0800. I want you to draft a formal apology to me, one to Colonel MacKenzie and you are to step down as my Chief of Staff. I'm going to spend the weekend deciding what to do with you and if this merits speaking with General Creswell."
Vic's pain fueled an anger that appeared suddenly as he saw his career disappear into the ether over a woman. "You assaulted a junior officer, Captain."
"I did." Harm agreed and would happily crack every bone in the man's body if allowed. "I'm not afraid of the consequences, Vic. I'll happily take my licks when they come. And just so you know, if you speak about her or any woman in such a foul manner I'll proudly face the brig for what I'll do to you."
Harm sighed heavily when he entered his flat, a place no officer could afford on their pay but then, he had the means for such things. If he was stuck in such a dreary city, he would live a little nicer.
He showered and dressed quickly, wanting to arrive much earlier than Vukovic or the rest of his staff. Harm knew repercussions would be swift once command learned of his assault on a junior officer and he needed to work on his own defense.
If it came to anything formal there were little senior officers in his department that he trusted. He wondered if Mac would come to his rescue as she had before? Likely not as her own command dictated the same crazy hours and responsibilities as he.
Mac. He tried not to think of her too much. A post in England meant a fresh start and Harm was determined to leave the baggage of his past in Washington. Sadly, she was part of that burden but given the last time he saw her and how easily they parted ways, it was time to let her go.
Only his altercation with Vicpuke made the feelings he tried to bury flutter to the surface. He spent all weekend with Mac on his mind fighting the urge to call and say hi. In the end his control won out but as he dressed that morning and adjusted his gold wings, her voice echoed in his mind. "What they say about dress whites and gold wings."
"Overrated." He snorted, rolled his eyes and headed out to the kitchen.
Harm sat at the island sipping coffee while checking the files in his briefcase that he'd assign to the appropriate officer during morning muster. The worst would go to Vukovic, a case only given to the greenest of lawyers - the ultimate insult for a man with such a chip on his shoulder.
On the island sat a large basket covered in clear cellophane, a gift from his British counterpart, Captain James Mankelow, after a friendly game of soccer. Inside were different teas, jellies and a cap with the logo for the British Navy. There was also a pocket full of postcards with various pictures of London landmarks, one in particular caught his fancy.
Mac loved history and museums. At the inception of their partnership they spent several weekends touring the various offerings across DC. She taught him about dinosaurs, pointing out fossils and sighting facts Harm never found interesting until then.
England was far more interesting and the one corner of the World he knew she never visited as a tourist. While it had become antiquated to mail correspondence, he grabbed a card out of the stack and scribbled a quick note.
After a call to Harriet (he didn't have Mac's address) and a trip to the post office, an iconic image of London's most prominent landmark was en route to San Diego.