Rating: K+
Summary: Set near the beginning of season 6 before Mac has moved the ring. Mac is prosecuting a case being shown live on television and is receiving a lot of press coverage including a feature in People Magazine. A feature which Harm reads leading him to send Mac a surprising letter which just may change everything.
Disclaimer: JAG was created by Donald P. Bellisario and is owned in whole or in part by Belisarius Productions and Paramount Network Television (CBS Studios). This is a work of fiction playing with the characters that I have loved for more than twenty years – I make no money from this and no copyright infringement or disrespect is intended.
Significant Mail
By: visions2share (a.k.a. Vi)
"Nobody could notice my window was shattered before the temperature in my office dropped into the artic range? No. It had to wait until Monday morning when I have a million reports to catch up on," Harm whined as he dropped into one of the chairs in front of Mac's desk.
"When is it being fixed?"
"Maintenance is coming sometime today. Or so they say," Harm rolled his eyes.
"So, hopefully this week?" Mac was as familiar with the speed of building maintenance as Harm.
"If I'm lucky. Both conference rooms and the library are being used today - although I put a hold on the library for the rest of the week. Any chance you'd let me camp in here with you so I don't freeze to death?"
Mac smiled, happy to have an excuse to keep him close, "I suppose. If you promise not to mess up my filing system," Mac indicated her perpetually messy office.
"Don't you mean piling system, Darlin'?"
Mac narrowed her eyes and tried to pretend to be insulted but was so delighted to be around him she couldn't hold it.
"Did you figure out how the window got broken?"
"Big rock. About the size of a fist. Looks like it came through the window at quite a clip 'cause it dented the opposite wall too."
Oh no, "Somebody threw it on purpose?"
"Yeah. Can't imagine how it got there any other way. Hell of an arm."
"Mic."
"Why would Bugme throw a rock through my office window when I wasn't even there?"
"I told you all those horrible things he was saying when he chased me last week. Besides, who else could it be?"
"I hate to break it to ya, Darlin'," Harm drawled with an unrepentant grin, "but I have an enemy or two of my own. And," he went on when she tried to argue, "we don't even know if they hit what they were aiming for. For all we know they could have been aiming for the courtroom upstairs or the admiral's window next door."
"Or mine."
"Or yours. Or nobody's. It could have just been somebody blowing off steam throwing rocks at a random building and they only got a window by accident."
"I guess."
"So can I get my laptop and files and hang out with you?"
"Sure, Sailor."
"Thanks, Mac."
...
He hadn't moved her files. He hadn't even asked for a corner of her desk. Instead, he'd turned the visitors chairs to face each other and sat in one and put his feet up in the other and made a desk out of his lap. It couldn't be comfortable. But he seemed to be making it work, plowing through his stack of files.
Mac on the other hand hadn't accomplished anything after closing arguments that morning. The jury hadn't come back yet and they'd had all day to deliberate - it didn't bode well for her getting the conviction. She had plenty of other things to be working on but found she couldn't concentrate - she kept getting distracted by memories of her weekend spent in Harm's arms - and, of course, by his being in the room.
She'd catch a hint of his aftershave on the air or a glimpse of his frame out the corner of her eye and the only thought she could hold in her head was a bubbling happiness to know he loved her. That he was hers now, and for always.
They'd spend the weekend holding each other and talking. They'd talked about their pasts and the mistakes they'd made with each other that had kept them apart. She'd told him about breaking up with Mic - his volatile reaction - and how she'd been unable to go home. He'd assured her she was always welcome in his home and that he always wanted to be her safe harbor in troubled waters. They'd talked about what they each wanted in a relationship and how they'd accomplish it all with each other. They talked about dreams and always and forevers. He'd showed her his grandmother's engagement ring that had been passed on to his mother and then to him.
She'd tried to insist she didn't need a ring to know he loved her even as she couldn't help but crave to wear the ring that seemed custom made to represent their love. It had a large rectangular diamond that was flanked on either side by a heart shaped stone - one sapphire and the other emerald. Harm had told her the ring's story - how it was originally just the diamond when his grandmother wore it and how his father had added the colored stones for his bride because she brought the color into his life. Harm said he thought he'd have the band made wider and engraved with roses and rose vines to represent when they first met. Mac had found herself unwilling to deny either of them the joy of her wearing his ring.
It was currently in its antique box in her purse because Harm insisted on taking it to the jeweler after work to be sized and have the alterations done. He was so innocently excited to give her the ring but, not to prove he possessed her, to share the legacy of his family's love with her.
"Are you planning on just staring at me all day?" Harm asked pulling her back to the present and the realization she'd day dreamed away most of the day.
"You have a problem with that?"
"Nope," he flashed her his flyboy smile and she tried not to let him see her melt.
Harm chuckled at her reaction that she'd been unable to hide. So she made a show of refocusing on her work and pointedly ignoring him. Which just made him laugh more.
His laughter was cut off by her office door banging open and crashing against the wall the glass in the door shattering on impact.
Mic was standing in the open doorway, "Where the hell have you been?" he thundered.
Mac fought against the lead in the pit of her stomach and stood up.
"What are you doing here?" Mac asked, trying to keep her voice calm and not escalate the situation.
"I've come to fine out why my fiancé hasn't come home in nearly a week!"
"I'm not your fiancé!" Mac didn't pretend to misunderstand, "I never was. And I gave you back the ring."
"Don't play innocent with me, bitch! Whose bed have you been warming?! You never would have sex with me - just kept stringing me along - holding out - making me beg!"
"Mic, please -,"
"But all these months you were rutting with some other bloke behind my back! You ran to him and stayed with him. I bet the two of you laughed about how you humiliated me!"
"You are the one drawing a crowd," Harm said, "if you're embarrassed you have no one to blame but yourself."
Harm stepped toward Mic and used his bigger frame to force Mic to back out of her office, the broken glass crunching under their feet. She wanted to sink to the floor and crawl under her desk to hide and let Harm handle Mic. But she was a Marine and she'd be damned if she'd let him clean up her mistakes.
Mic was sputtering with indignation and mute with fury.
"I'm sorry you're hurt, Mic," Mac said as she joined the men in the bullpen, "But the fact you think I'd treat any man that way means you never really knew me at all." She'd tried to explain this before, maybe he'd hear her this time.
"I resigned my commission and moved half way around the world to be with you! And you break up with me! And you want me to believe you're sorry?!"
"I -,"
"You are a manipulative whore! Keeping all the men coming after you! You think I didn't see you look at Rabb when you were dancing with me?! I gave you a diamond ring and you still pant after his loser ass. Is it his bed you've spent the last week in?!" Mic was flat out screaming and they had gathered quite an audience including, much to Mac's horror, the admiral and the reporters who'd been dogging her every step for the last week.
"Why would you think," Harm's voice remained calm and all the quieter forcing the audience, and Mic, to focus to hear him, "that Mac hasn't been in her own bed?"
"She never came home! I waited outside her building all night. Every night. She never came home. She was with you!"
"No," still calm and quiet, "I've been on an investigation. I just reported back this morning."
"Liar!"
"No, it's the truth," Harm was so calm, so serene, Mac had no idea how he was doing it.
"LIAR!" spittle flew from Mic's mouth and his already ruddy face went mottled crimson as he screamed, "you were here Friday night! Your office light was on!"
"When you threw the rock through my window?" just a whisper.
"Yes, damn it! I threw the rock. I had hoped it would bash in your stupid skull!"
"But I wasn't here," Harm's whisper became a taunt.
"Then I'll have to do it myself!" Mic leapt forward taking a wild swing of a right hook at Harm's jaw - but he never connected.
Harm had moved in a blur using Mic's momentum to spin him around and into a choke hold. Mic struggled to get free but for all his professional boxing experience he was such a much smaller man and couldn't get any leverage. Harm held his grip looking almost bored.
"I assume, sir," Harm addressed the admiral in his normal speaking voice, "we'll want to charge Mr. Brumby with both counts of destruction of property as well as the stalking charge the Colonel already swore out?"
"Definitely, Commander," the admiral waved someone forward and Mac realized, for the first time, their audience included several MPs.
As the MPs were quietly collecting the much more docile, somewhat oxygen deprived, Brumby Mac addressed the admiral.
"I'm so sorry about this, Admiral," her personal life was wreaking havoc to the office and distracting the whole building from their duties.
"Colonel," Chegwidden spoke firmly and Mac fought the urge to gulp in anticipation of the reprimand, "you can't be held responsible for anyone's actions but your own." Mac nearly wilted with relief. "Back to work people!"
As the crowd dispersed, the reporters being helped along, none to gently, by the gunny and some of the MPs, Mac knew that she was still being stared at. Harm's eyes were locked on her but had her feeling comforted and reassured rather than antsy and uptight.
"Commander," the admiral had come to stand at Harm's shoulder.
"Sir?" Harm's eyes didn't leave her.
"Go ahead and get her out of here for today. Make your stop at the jewelry store then take her back to your place so she can relax away from the press and all this nonsense."
"Yes, sir. I'll do that," he still didn't take his eyes off of her.
Suddenly, Harriet was there with her cover, purse, Harm's cover, and both their briefcases. Mac accepted them and tried to smile at Harriet but knew she failed. Harm took both briefcases and grabbed her elbow and began to steer her out. Mac moved with him on instinct the adrenalin crash and her swirling thoughts putting her mind in a fog.
As he guided her onto the elevator, he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "We'll stop at the jewelers to have your ring fixed and then we'll go through Beltway Burgers to pick you up some dinner on the way back to our loft."
And just like that the fog cleared and Mac could think again. Could know. Could be certain there was nothing in life so good - so significant - as being respected and loved by the right man. Always and forever.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading "Something Significant," I hope you liked it. I have written another JAG story that is much longer and more involved. I believe I will be starting to post it sometime near the end of next week. It is completely written but I want to get all the editing done before I begin posting. It will be titled "Letters Home: Doin' it Their Way" – I hope you'll keep an eye out for it and give it a chance. I want to take a second to say a special thank you to the guest reviews – everyone's kind words mean so much! Have a great day! Thanks again for reading and reviewing! ~ Vi