A/N: Here's another track. Sorry it's so long—it's a little different than the usual…and damn, once again it's inspired by a Taylor Swift song. What the heck?!
Soundtracks
Track 3: Seven Taylor Swift
We Can Be Pirates
She'd been expecting his knock all day.
"Hey," she said as she opened her door, stepping aside so her visitor could enter. Once he was fully inside, she leaned out into the hall to take a quick survey and, satisfied to find no one else out there, she carefully shut the door. She made sure both the deadbolt and the chain lock were engaged before she turned back around.
"What brings you by, Harm?" Mac asked, though she had her suspicions. She noticed then that Harm looked rather uncomfortable, and she wondered if she was about to hear some announcement that would be the denouement to this difficult week. Mac braced herself, preparing to hear that he'd proposed to Rene or was leaving the navy to be with the video princess, or—
"Mac?"
"What?" She jumped, startled, and realized Harm had been talking to her and she had no idea what he'd just said.
Harm didn't answer her right away; instead, he studied her, and Mac started to squirm, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. "Harm— "
"Are you okay, Mac?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" she responded, now knowing where he was going with this.
"Maaac," Harm admonished, and Mac shrugged.
"Mac," he said again, his tone gentle. "What happened?"
She shrugged, surreptitiously lowering the pushed-up sleeves of her sweatshirt down below her wrists. "We broke up. He's going back to Australia."
"Oh…I'm sorry, Mac."
"I'm not." Mac replied, a bitter edge to her voice. She walked past Harm and sat down heavily on her couch.
"Mac," he said, dropping down beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?" He took her hand in his. It was warm and rough, and as it always had, his touch made her feel safe.
"Not really."
"Well, how 'bout a pizza then?" Harm wore a hopeful grin, and Mac found she couldn't resist it.
"Okay, Harm. I'd like that." Harm's grin widened and he stood up from the couch, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket.
"I'll order— "
"Actually, I already did," she interrupted, giving him a little grin of her own.
"But you didn't know I was coming…" Mac raised an eyebrow at him.
"Okay, yes, it is acceptable for you to order pizza just for yourself…and lemme guess, you ordered one with all meat."
Mac stood up and stepped to Harm's side. "Actually, I ordered half meat lovers and half veggie."
"Really? Were you expecting someone else with my tastes?"
Mac smiled up at him. "No, I was just feeling nostalgic." She patted his arm, then headed to the kitchen to get them something to drink.
The two ate in mostly companionable silence, although, as they came closer to finishing their dinner, she felt more and more of Harm's scrutiny.
"You're not eating much tonight, Mac," Harm commented mildly, and Mac looked down at her plate in surprise. Where usually she could put away at least three pieces, sometimes even more, she'd only eaten about one and a half slices. She'd thought she'd been eating steadily, but apparently, she'd been too distracted by various thoughts about her recent breakup and the unfortunate reasons for it.
"Oh…I guess…I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought," she shrugged, and for some reason that made her eyes fill with tears. She supposed she'd assumed that once the dust settled on her breakup, her appetite would come back…that she wouldn't feel so tense…but that had apparently been wishful thinking. Before she could stop it, a tear escaped and trickled down her face.
"Well, I never thought I'd hear—Mac? Mac, honey, what's wrong?" Harm was obviously distressed by her tears, and he quickly swiped a thumb under her eye to brush them away after he'd taken her plate from her and set it on the table in front of them. "Mac?" he said again, but Mac just shook her head.
"Nothing, Harm. I just haven't been sleeping very well lately—I think I'm just tired." She half-hoped he would take that as his cue to leave, but there was also a part of her that wanted to throw herself into his arms and sob it out. She felt Harm's strong arm go around her shoulders and pull her into his side and she almost did start sobbing, but she called on her inner marine and held it back. She'd wait until she was in bed tonight before breaking down. Again.
Mac had broken it off with Mic five days ago, while Harm had been out on assignment in Washington state. Things had been brewing for weeks, but that Wednesday night was when it all came to a head. Mic never seemed to listen to her, to take into account her wants and desires, and she was sick of it. And she was sick of…well, she wouldn't think about that now. It would just make her start crying again, and she didn't want to put all of that on Harm.
Harm, however, was persistent. "Mac…please tell me what happened. Bud told me you called into work on Thursday, and then when you came back on Friday, the ring was off."
Mac pulled away from him. "Harm, I—" Her shoulders slumped and then she just shrugged. "It just wasn't going to work out."
"I see," Harm said, but it was clear to Mac that he really didn't, and he knew it. "It's just that…well, the two of you seemed…happy…before I left."
Mac shrugged again. She didn't want to go into it, didn't want to let on that she hadn't been happy for a while, and was embarrassed she'd let things go as far as they had. She tried not to blame herself, but truly, someone with her history should have realized there was something off in her relationship with Mic. It shouldn't have taken the memory of a childhood friend and an unanswered letter to realize that.
"Mac," Harm sighed. "I don't mean to be so…"
"Nosy?" Mac broke in, giving him a little smile to know she wasn't bothered—much—by it.
"Well, yeah," he said sheepishly. "But I-I was worried about you. You never answered any of my emails while I was gone, and then Bud told me about the ring…I just wondered what happened and if you were okay."
"I'm fine, Harm," she snapped, and then only realized she was crying, really crying, when Harm wrapped his arms around her and practically pulled her onto his lap.
For the next ten minutes, Mac cried into Harm's chest while he soothingly ran his hand up and down her back and spoke gentle words into her ear. He even pressed a few kisses to her hair, which made Mac cling to him even more. Finally, her tears slowed to mere hiccups and, though she didn't want to, she pulled away.
"Sorry," she whispered, and Harm shook his head.
"Don't be, Mac," he replied, brushing away the last of her tears with his thumb. He gazed at her for a few beats before speaking again. "Can you tell me now what brought all of this on?"
As an answer, Mac stood up from the couch and walked toward her desk. She heard Harm stand as well and she could tell he was following behind her.
"Mac, I'm sorry, I know it's none of my business. I won't ask again, alright? But you know you can come to me anytime. Mac?"
Mac didn't answer him right away as she reached for a photo on her desk. It was an older photo, the color somewhat faded, and it featured two smiling little girls, braids in their hair, dressed as pirates. She smiled down at it before handing it to Harm.
Harm studied it for a moment, and she knew the moment he recognized that the dark-haired girl on the left was her. His eyes softened and his mouth turned up in a little grin. "Cute, marine."
"Thanks," she answered, knowing he was still a little confused. After a moment, he handed the photo back to her.
"So, what's this about?" he asked as he let go of the picture.
Mac gazed at the red-headed pirate on the right. The girl's smile was crooked, and her freckles stood out from her pale skin. By contrast, the young Sarah MacKenzie was taller, darker skinned, and her smile was a little more perfect but a little less happy. "It's what…or I guess who brought this on."
"Who is she?"
Mac felt the familiar sting of tears again. "Amy. Her name was Amy."
"Was?"
Mac nodded. "Come on, Harm. I'll tell you all about her." She motioned for him to follow her, then led them back to the couch.
Little Sarah MacKenzie, seven years old, giggled as she raced ahead of her best friend, Amy Madsen. Amy was also seven, a mere six weeks younger than Sarah, and lived next door. The two girls had met when Amy's dad and great-grandmother moved into the little blue house next to the MacKenzie's faded yellow one. Amy's dad was a lot handier than Sarah's; he had to be, for while the Madsen home looked better and better—a fresh coat of paint here, a new screen door there—the MacKenzie residence looked shabbier as the months passed. The faded yellow paint was peeling, the front porch sagged, and there was a giant rip in the screen door. Sarah was embarrassed, for even at aged seven she knew the difference between a well-kept home and, well, hers. She tried to comfort herself by telling herself that her daddy worked a lot more than Amy's dad. Mr. Madsen was a teacher and was home by four every day. Sarah wasn't exactly sure what Joe MacKenzie did for a living, but he was rarely home before eight, and she and her mama would have to wait to have supper until Joe came through the door. Half the time, little Sarah nearly fell asleep in her chair, which irritated Joe. Deanne tried to explain that it was past bedtime for girls Sarah's age, but Joe would cut her off by telling her that he worked hard all day while Deanne and Sarah just lazed about at home. The least they could do was eat with him as a family should. Deanne once countered that he'd be home a lot earlier if he didn't go out drinking at the Spur every night. She was rewarded with a slap across the face and a bloodied lip, and Sarah spent the rest of the night hiding in the closet while her parents yelled and glass broke.
Amy once asked why Joe was always so mad and even offered a theory about that. Sarah didn't have her own answer for that; why couldn't Joe MacKenzie be as nice as Harvey Madsen? Why couldn't Deanne cuddle her and braid her hair like Amy's great-grandmother Sadie? It was a mystery to Sarah, and she started to wonder if more families were like hers or like Amy's. At any rate, at least in the summers, Deanne let Sarah run wild with Amy, and the two girls had many adventures. They were pirates. They were world travelers on their way to India, the most exotic place they could think of. They were cowgirls, running a huge ranch better than any cowboy ever could. Amy's uncle had a ranch in Texas, so Amy knew all about horses and cattle and everything else you'd find on such a spread.
Amy's Uncle Deke was her mother's brother and she visited him and his wife Joan every summer. Sarah missed Amy fiercely during those two weeks, jealous of Amy's tales of her cousins. Her cousin Jackie was seventeen and was going out with boys named Jim and David and Sam. Amy would watch her put on her makeup and told Sarah crazy stories about eyelash curlers and bubblegum pink lipstick. Amy's cousin Trevor was ten and liked to put toads in Jackie's and Amy's beds. When Amy stayed at her uncle's she'd share her cousin Cheryl's bed with her. Cheryl was a year younger than Sarah and Amy but was absolutely fearless and having a toad in her bed only made her laugh.
Sarah hoped that someday Amy would take her with them, and maybe they could just let her live on the ranch with Uncle Deke and Aunt Joan and Jackie, Trevor, and Cheryl. It had to be better than living with her daddy and Mama, where nary a day went by without a harsh word or the sound of flesh hitting flesh.
Sarah made it to Amy's back door first and the two girls collapsed on the steps laughing when Amy caught up with her. Grandma Sadie must have heard them, for she was right there with a tray of sweet tea and slices of her famous pound cake. Sadie was from Mississippi and young Sarah understood that sweet tea was a "southern" thing. Amy had a map of the United States on her bedroom wall and Sarah wondered why Arizona wasn't "southern" like Mississippi. After all, it too was at the bottom of the country. Amy asked Grandma Sadie who laughed and handed Sarah her first glass of sweet tea and told her "that's why." It still didn't make sense to Sarah, but Grandma Sadie was old and wise, and the tea was so good; she must know what she was talking about.
Once the girls finished their snack, they took the tray back to Grandma Sadie, who was in the middle of pulling a cast iron skillet of corn bread from the oven. That was one of the few things of Grandma Sadie's that Sarah didn't like. When she'd first tried it, she'd expected it to be sweet like the cornbread Deanne MacKenzie made from a box. It wasn't; instead it was just a little salty and a lot bland and Sarah politely declined another slice. Grandma Sadie just smiled, and the next time she made cornbread, she'd made Sarah a sweetened version and it was much better than anything her mama had ever made from a mix. The one thing she couldn't get used to, though, was the beans the Madsens often had with their cornbread. Those beans were white and were nothing like the pinto beans Sarah was used to in Arizona. The way Sadie made beans was boring in Sarah's mind. Sometimes Amy's family was just weird.
The two girls watched as Sadie covered the skillet of cornbread with a dish towel. The old woman, probably the oldest woman Sarah had ever seen, was singing some southern tune, and pretty soon Amy and Sarah joined in.
Sarah loved it here.
She loved Amy and Sadie and even Mr. Madsen. Even though Amy didn't have a mama like Sarah because she'd died after Amy was born, Sarah still envied her friend. Sarah had her grandmother Amira and her Uncle Matt, and she loved them fiercely, but she didn't get to see them very often, and Amy got to live with the wonderful Grandma Sadie and had a daddy that never yelled, never hit anyone, never told his little girl she was stupid and lazy.
How Sarah wished she had been born a Madsen.
"What, Harm?" Mac asked when she noticed him smiling down at her.
"Oh, nothing. Just picturing you running around Yuma dressed like a pirate."
Mac smiled sadly. "Well, we only ran around our backyards."
"Even so, you made an adorable pirate, Mac. Both of you did."
"Thanks, Harm." The two were silent for a few moments and Mac felt him pull her and Amy's photo from her hand. She watched as he ran his fingertip along one of the seven-year-old Sarah's long braids.
"Were these your Halloween costumes?" Harm eventually asked, and Mac shook her head.
"No, we were just dressing up that day." Mac went quiet then, thinking about that day nearly three decades ago.
"Oh."
It was a few moments later when Harm bumped her with his arm. "Say, Mac? Where's your eyepatch?"
He obviously didn't expect her to start crying again, but she did.
"There you go, Sarah-girl," Grandma Sadie said as she tied off Sarah's last braid. Sadie Hall could do the most intricate plaits and Sarah loved sitting in front of her as she wove any number of patterns into Sarah's dark and thick chestnut hair. Amy's red hair was thick as well, only hers was curly where Sarah's was straight, and it took more to tame it.
Sarah slid off her stool and turned around to hug the old woman. "Thank you, Miss Sadie," she said as she threw her arms around Sadie's neck. After a hug and a kiss to her cheek, Sadie let Sarah go and the two little girls ran up the stairs to Amy's room. Amy had a huge canopy bed and they liked to pretend it was their pirate ship, spending hours "at sea" and giggling when they made each other walk the plank. They both had pirate costumes sewn by Grandma Sadie they spent many a joyful afternoon sailing the high seas and plundering other ships for their treasures.
"Where's your eyepatch?" Sadie asked Sarah once they were dressed in their pirate gear. To Sarah's dismay, she realized she'd forgotten it on her dresser. Consulting her inner clock, she figured her daddy had gone back to work. He'd started coming home over the noon hour that summer, and Sarah did her best to be out of the house during that time.
"I forgot it, but we can go get it now." Amy knew all about Joe MacKenzie and how he yelled at Sarah and her mother, never questioning when Sarah told her they couldn't play at her house with her dolls. Her dolls were the one thing Amy was envious of. Sarah had all kinds, and many were from her Uncle Matt, who frequently sent them to her from exotic and not-so-exotic locations. Uncle Matt was a marine, an officer, and even though Joe MacKenzie, an enlisted man, constantly went on about useless officers, Sarah idolized her uncle, and she was proud that Matthew O'Hara had just made captain. She knew that was a big deal, even if her daddy said it was 'nothing.'
Amy grinned, obviously relieved her friend wouldn't be patchless, and the two girls scurried over to Sarah's house.
The MacKenzie home had the same floor plan as the Madsen house. Each was a story-and-half, utterly boring in design, with the stairs located just off the front entryway. Because she was old, Grandma Sadie got the downstairs master bedroom, while Amy and her father each took one of the tiny rooms with the sloped ceilings upstairs. No one slept in the room next to Sarah's; instead, it was filled with junk from each of their many moves while Joe MacKenzie was in the marines.
Sarah knew something was wrong as soon as she stepped through her front door. She couldn't hear anything going on, though, so she quietly motioned for Amy to follow her up the stairs. They'd only made it halfway when the sound of glass breaking made both girls jump. Amy yelped a bit, and that sprung Mac into action. The yelling had already started, and Sarah knew her daddy would be furious if he discovered the girls in the house. Sarah urged Amy on and then pulled her into her bedroom closet. The two girls huddled in the dark, Amy holding onto Sarah while she cried. Dimly, young Sarah wondered how Amy could be so brave as her father's shouts and her mother's cries filled the tiny house, but in the end, she just let her friend hug her and stroke her hair, while the sound of splintering wood and more broken glass sounded beneath them.
"Oh, Mac…"
Harm was holding her once again, stroking her hair much like Amy had done all those years before. Mac's tears had slowed, but she still clung to her current best friend, and the thought came to her that it was a shame Amy had never met Harm…and how tragic it was that now she never would.
"What happened after that?" Harm finally asked, his hand now absently rubbing circles on her back.
Mac shrugged. "We hid in the closet another hour, until we were sure Joe had gone. I forgot my eyepatch anyway, and we snuck out while I prayed Deanne wouldn't catch us. I didn't want Amy to see my mother like that, though I know she and her dad and especially Sadie knew what was going on at my house. They'd all seen mom in sunglasses and long sleeves even when it was one hundred and twenty degrees out."
"I'm so sorry, Mac."
"It's okay, Harm…it is what it is…or was, I guess." She shrugged again, but then she suddenly smiled. "Amy told me I should come live with her and then I wouldn't have to cry and hide in my closet." She looked up into Harm's sympathetic eyes and he smiled back encouragingly. "I wanted to Harm, so much…and honestly, I think Amy's dad and Grandma Sadie would have let me if it had been in any way possible."
"I'm sure they would have." His smile grew into a gentler version of his flyboy grin. "You were a cute kid." He pulled her close again and it was a moment before either of them spoke again.
"You know what? Amy always told me she thought my house was haunted…and that's why my dad was always mad."
"Oh? Well, I suppose that's as good a theory as any…so, where is Amy now? I'd like to thank her for taking care of my ninja girl."
"You can't," she answered, her voice breaking. "She died."
"Oh god, Mac. I'm so sorry."
Mac brushed new tears aside. "It's okay, Harm. Later that year, Amy's great-grandmother died, and her father and Amy moved back to Minnesota where his family was from. Sadie was actual Amy's mother's grandma, and she moved in with them to help Mr. Madsen with the baby since his wife died in childbirth. You'd never know they weren't actually related, though. He used to call her 'meemaw' and it was so sad when she passed on. She was like a second grandmother to me too.
"Amy and I kept in touch—we must have written hundreds of letters to each other over the years. She eventually went to law school, and even though I knew she wasn't in Minnesota anymore by that point, I decided to go there for college because of her. She was a big part of why I went to law school too, even though it was John who initially broached the subject with me. She was so encouraging in her letters and was ecstatic that I was going to follow in her footsteps."
"Well, I'm so happy she was a part of your life—otherwise we'd probably never have met."
Mac gazed into Harm's sea-colored eyes. "I guess that's another thing I wish I could thank her for."
The two friends stared at each other for a moment, and Mac felt herself leaning toward Harm just as he started to lean toward her. The sound of Jingo padding into the living room, his collar jingling, startled them both, and then the moment was gone. Jingo wagged his tail at the sight of Harm, then settled at their feet, already snoring before he was lying down completely.
"So…"
"So…" Mac mimicked.
"What happened to Amy?"
"She and I still exchanged letters several times a year, but then months went by after my last letter. That was so unlike her, so I did a little research. She was working at a firm specializing in family law—mostly battered women. One of her clients' husbands burst into her office while she was with that client, and he shot and killed both of them."
"Oh, god…"
"Harm, I knew she got threats a lot. She was excellent at her job and there were a lot of angry spouses…but I didn't think something like this would actually happen.
"I guess I was naïve."
"Oh, Mac…I don't think…but…um…"
"Yes, Harm?"
"Well, what does this have to do with you breaking up with Brumby?"
Mac hung her head. She wasn't ready to have anyone else know…but this was Harm. He wouldn't give up until he had his answers. Taking a deep breath, Mac pushed the sleeves of her oversized sweatshirt up and held out her arms for Harm to see.
Harm gasped and instantly paled.
Ugly bruises, some yellowing, some still purple, covered her forearms. A particularly nasty set of bruises encircled her left wrist, and Harm's trembling finger reached forward to gently trace the line of fingerprint shaped bruises above it.
"Mac?" He sounded devastated, and his eyes looked suspiciously wet.
In response, Mac lifted her sweatshirt and pushed down the waistband of her pants. More bruises, large ones, covered her right hip, belly, and back.
Tears started to slip down Harm's cheeks and Mac guiltily covered the bruises once again. Harm, however, pushed up her sleeve again and laid his hand over the mess of brown, black, and blue.
"He-he did this to you? Mic?"
Mac's own tears fell as she nodded.
"Five days ago…mostly."
"Mostly?!" Harm shouted.
"Um, a few happened before that."
"While I was still here? Why-why didn't you call me? Mac?"
"I was…embarrassed."
"Embarrassed? But why?"
Mac let out a huff of frustration. "I-I guess because I'm supposed to be a marine…I should have defended myself…but I let him do it again…just like my mother let Joe."
"Oh, god, Mac," Harm said again. "Oh, god…" Harm's fists clenched in his lap and Mac laid her hand on one of them. Harm unexpectedly yanked his hand from out from under hers, and Mac couldn't help it. She jumped, scooting away from him, her heart pounding while images of Mic Brumby's angry face filled her mind. Jingo's head shot up and he growled low in his throat.
"Mac, oh, baby…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I didn't mean…please, Mac…sweetheart…"
Mac didn't miss the endearments falling from his lips, and though she wondered at them, they worked to bring her back to the moment. Eventually she allowed Harm to coax her into his arms again, and before she knew it, she was actually on his lap, her head tucked into his shoulder. Both of them cried for a moment, Mac clinging to Harm, parts of his shirt clenched in her fist. Shadows from the setting sun were forming in the room as Mac finally told Harm the whole story—how Mic had slowly manipulated her, guilting her into staying in the relationship, telling her daily what he'd given up for her. She told him about going to Mic's boss's garden party, how humiliated she'd felt as Mic had paraded her around like a trophy, and how he'd basically told her to shut up and get in the car when she'd confronted him about it. With tears she'd told him how she'd actually gone over to Mic's and apologized to him that night.
"Things went downhill after that," Mac continued. "He started to get on me about little things…he'd resent it when I had to work late…he'd grill me when I had to go on investigations with you…but he was so…subtle about it."
Harm snorted at that. "Subtle is not a word I'd associate with Brumby."
"I know…but he was…and I…I started to believe him…
"Harm…this part is…hard…for me to say…"
"Take your time, honey." He pressed a kiss to her hair.
Mac nodded even as she wondered how she could even think of telling Harm what she was about to.
"He started to take out his anger with me in…um…while we…had, um, s-sex."
Harm's chest heaved underneath her hand and she could feel his heart start to race. "You mean…you mean he raped you?" Mac felt Harm's fury come off of him in waves.
"No…no…not that. He didn't r-rape me. He was just…mean. Rough. He wanted to make it…hurt." Mac felt her face heat up with a blush. She couldn't believe she'd just told Harm that, and the shame she felt multiplied.
"I'll kill him."
"Harm, no…"
"I will rip every fucking limb from his body."
"Harm, I just told you, he didn't rape me…"
"But he…he abused you, Mac…and I can't let that go."
"You have to, Harm. Anyway, he's leaving. He promised." Mac knew that sounded ridiculous; Mic Brumby had already shown he was not an honorable man.
"And you believe— "
"Not exactly…but I do believe in the admiral."
"The admiral? He knows?"
"Yeah."
Mac was suddenly exhausted. It wasn't just the fatigue one feels after a few sleepless nights. It was a bone-deep weariness brought on by months of stress, months of pretending things were okay, months of growing increasingly hypervigilant without realizing it. The warmth and comfort of being cradled in the arms of her best friend was lulling her to sleep and she wanted nothing more than to give in to that. Harm, however, clearly needed more.
"Mac?"
"Hhhmm?" she murmured, unconsciously snuggling closer.
"You didn't tell me the rest…what he did to you, how the admiral got involved…and how Amy is a part of all of this."
"Oh…" Mac knew Harm deserved a more complete explanation, so she forced herself to not give in to slumber.
"Well…" she began with a sigh. "I was at his place for dinner…I was late and he was upset, he was drinking which he normally didn't do around me, we got into an argument, I said something smart and he…slapped me. Honestly, he looked just as surprised as I was, but before he could say anything, I ran out of there and went home. He came over later and apologized and since it seemed like a one-off, I let it go."
"But Mac…you just told me— "
"I know, Harm…but I hadn't yet acknowledged to myself everything that was wrong in this relationship.
"Mic was 'extra' nice for a few days…but then one night we fought about going out with some of his coworkers. I wasn't feeling well, I didn't want to be around the likes of his partners, so I told him no. We were at his place again so I made to leave…that's when he grabbed me by my wrist and just squeezed. Hard. It hurt, Harm, and he wouldn't stop…I cried out and he suddenly let go. I fell…and then he just stood over me…practically smiling…and I thought of Amy."
"Did you already know that she— "
"Yeah, I'd found out the week before…and as I looked up at Mic, everything became clear…all the manipulation, basically his gaslighting, and now this violence…and I wondered how I could dishonor Amy's memory by letting him do this to me…Amy took care of me, comforted me when we were little girls…she made a career of helping battered women, their children…and it cost her her life. How could I let this continue when she'd given up so much for people like me and my mother?
"I got up off the floor and told him it was over…and I thought he was going to let me go…but then he slammed me against the door. We fought, I got away, and then I went home…and the admiral was there. It turned out I had accidentally called him during the scuffle, and he raced over here. He was about to call the police when I showed up."
Mac finally drew back and looked up into Harm's eyes. He looked honestly shattered, and her eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry, Harm."
Harm didn't say anything for a moment but then his eyes widened as if in shock. "Why—why are you sorry? No, Mac, no. Don't ever be sorry about this. It wasn't your fault!"
"But I— "
"No! No!"
Harm glared down at her, but she knew in her heart that he wasn't mad at her. The look in his eyes turned pleading and he begged her once more not to be sorry. Finally, she agreed.
"Okay, Harm…okay." Harm nodded and pulled her close to him again.
"So, what happened with the admiral?" he asked after a while.
Mac couldn't help smiling a little. "He took me inside…got me some ice…and made me tell him what happened. I couldn't exactly lie after that, given what he'd heard. I could tell he was furious, but he did his best to remain calm and then insisted I let him take me to the ER. I told him he didn't have to stay with me, and he agreed…"
"He just left you there?" Harm sounded on his way to being livid again, and Mac could only grin.
"Yeah…but what I didn't know was he used that time to walk Jingo, change the locks on my door, and then convince Mic he'd best go back down under…or he'd find himself down under in a whole new way."
"He should have been arrested, Mac. He should be in jail."
"I know, Harm. That's what the admiral wanted too…but I just wanted this over. I want him gone…"
"But what if he hurts someone else?"
Harm's question made Mac's eyes fill with tears. "I thought of that…but you know as well as I do he'd probably only get minimal jail time if that…and then he'd be back here harassing me. I know I took the coward's way out…but I just need him gone. Please understand that…please!" Her plea ended on a sob and once again, she was crying in her partner's arms, he whispering comforting words to her until she finally fell asleep.
Harm gazed down at the woman sleeping against him. As shocked as he was about this whole thing, he found he wasn't truly surprised by Brumby's actions. There was always something off about him, and he could only thank God Mic had showed his true colors before it was too late.
He supposed he should thank Amy too…the little girl who'd been Mac's friend and protector. Harm reached for the picture of Amy and Mac, so sweet and sassy in their pirate garb. Their arms were around each other and he felt the sting of tears when he thought of the fate of the little red-headed, freckled-faced child. Harm had never known anything about her, but he felt himself grieving her loss anyway. Such a waste, he thought to himself.
Harm watched Mac sleep for a while longer, fighting the urge to just get up and murder Brumby. He knew, though, that that would serve no one, so, swallowing his anger, he stood up and carried Mac to her bedroom. He had already decided he wasn't going to leave her until he had proof of Brumby's departure, and he didn't care what she thought of that. He found he didn't care what his girlfriend, Rene, thought about that either…and he knew then it was time to finally break it off with her. There was only one woman he loved, and when the time was right, when she'd had a moment to breathe, he'd tell her.
Mac stirred as he laid her down on the bed, and he ran a soothing hand down her arm, pulling a blanket over her slender body before pressing a kiss to her forehead. A smile formed on her angelic face and she hummed a little in her sleep as she snuggled into the blankets.
Just as he turned to leave the room and take care of Jingo, her soft whisper stopped him.
"I love you too, Harm."
"Take a picture, Daddy! Take a picture!"
Two little pirate girls, one with dark hair, one with red, stood with their arms around each other, smiles on their delicate faces. The dark-haired girl was more serious than the other, her mind on an hour spent in her bedroom closet while her parents fought. The red-haired girl's excitement was infectious though, and little Sarah MacKenzie's smile widened as Amy's dad snapped a photo of the two best friends.
Once the picture was taken, Amy grabbed Sarah's hand and together they took off for the far corner of the yard.
"Where are you going?" Amy's dad called after them and, giggling, Amy called back.
"We're moving to India!" she shouted, and both girls laughed when Mr. Madsen told them to pack a sweater.
"It's hot in India, Daddy!" Amy yelled, though neither girl knew much about the climate of that country.
"Well then, have fun and be careful my little pirates!"
"We will, Daddy!"
In the cooling summer night, Amy Madsen and Sarah MacKenzie, best friends forever, lay on their backs, staring up at the star-filled sky. It was easy for Sarah to sneak out of her bedroom window and climb down the tree next to it into Amy's yard, and after the adults were asleep, the little girls would meet up to count the stars and dream about all the things they would do together. Tonight they were both quiet, each just enjoying the other's company.
Amy eventually slipped her hand into Sarah's and squeezed.
"I love you, Sarah!"
"I love you too, Amy!"
"To the moon?"
"Uh huh, and all the way to Saturn!"
Their laughter filled the night, and both the moon and Saturn smiled down on them.
End Track 3