By Tracy Mallon
"All At Once", performed by Whitney Houston
~*~*~*~
So raise your hands to heaven and pray
"Hands To Heaven", performed by Breathe
~*~*~*~
WEDNESDAY MORNING
Mac stared down at the stack of papers in front of her on her desk,
trying to concentrate. She was taking the next two days off in preparation
for her wedding and she wanted to get rid of the backlog of paperwork on
her desk. It wouldn't be fair to dump it all on someone else, no
matter what the circumstances. It wasn't everyone else's fault that
Mac found it harder and harder to focus on work the closer it got to her
wedding day.
Most would have assumed that Mac's occasional inability to concentrate
on work stemmed from her wedding, that she was the typical giddy bride
looking forward to her wedding day with an excitement that could not be
contained. It frustrated Mac that nothing could be further from the
truth. She wanted to be giddy. She wanted to be counting the
hours and minutes left until she would become Mrs. Mic Brumby. She
wanted to look forward to her wedding day with the anticipation born long
ago in a little girl's dreams of her fairytale wedding. But she couldn't,
no matter how hard she tried.
Unconsciously, she rubbed a finger over her lips and remembered how
it had felt. It had just been a kiss, one of a multitude she had
received in her life. And it hadn't been the first time that he had
kissed her. She had known what it felt like, his mouth moving tenderly
over hers, had known how he tasted. So why did one stolen moment
on a cool May night haunt her so much?
She didn't even have to close her eyes to see clearly in her mind how
it had started out as tender goodbye kiss and grown in intensity until
she was positive the only thing holding her upright was his hand pressed
against her back, holding her firmly against him. She had tried to
back away. Oh, how she had tried. But she'd never expected
him to finally let go, to express in his actions everything that she'd
ever wanted from him but had given up on hoping for. That was why,
when he had pulled her back to him, she hadn't resisted. At least,
that was what she tried to tell herself.
Mac closed her eyes for a moment, remembering. She could still
feel the tingling sensation as his lips touched hers. Her back felt
warm where his hand had pressed against it. If they hadn't both been
so aware of the house full of guests, and their significant others, just
on the other side of the door. . . .She should put it out of her mind.
She had to put it out of her mind. She knew that in her head.
Her heart had just refused to listen.
At a time when she should be running as fast as she could in the opposite
direction, she had oddly found herself closer to Harm than they had been
since he had left JAG to return to active flight status. They spent
more time together, laughed together, generally enjoyed each other's company.
And they touched. A hand on an arm. A pat on the shoulder.
Fingers clasped together. Mac knew they were playing with fire.
They both did. That was evident every time they looked into each
other's eyes. But Mac kept telling herself that what little contact
they allowed themselves was better than none at all. And maybe if
she told herself that enough times, she would find herself believing it.
Her eyes snapped open at the sound of a knock on her partially closed
door. Her gaze met Harm's and they stared at each other for a long
moment, the hint of a smile playing on their lips. Finally, Mac broke
the silence and asked, "What can I do for you?"
"I. . . .something's come up," he said, stepping in her office, resisting
the urge to push the door closed behind him. But being with Mac behind
closed doors was too great a temptation and she had made her choice.
He had to accept that. "I needed to talk to you about it."
"Take a seat," she suggested, gesturing to the chair in front of her
desk. Harm looked at the chair for a moment, then shook his head.
"On second thought," he said, "why don't we take a break? We've
both been buried under paperwork all day. It's a nice day out today.
Why don't we take a walk?"
"I don't know," she hesitated, shaking her head. "I've got a lot
to get done before I go on leave. . . ." Her voice trailed off as she noted
to look in his eyes. Ever since that night, she had found herself
paying more attention to his eyes, learning to read what he was thinking.
Right now, what she was seeing was a look that she hadn't seen in a couple
of years. . . .since he had shown up at her apartment to tell her that
he was returning to active flight status. She had the feeling deep
in the pit of her stomach that whatever he was about to say, she didn't
really want to hear it. Taking a deep breath, she nodded agreement.
"Let me get my cover."
"Thank you," he said. Mac's hand froze on her desk drawer at his
tone and she studied him for a long moment. She couldn't explain
it, but she sensed from him that this was of vital importance – to both
of them.
~*~*~*~
Once they were outside the building, slowly walking the grounds, Harm
found himself hesitating. Honestly, he was a bit relieved about his
news, but he was concerned about Mac's reaction. He wasn't sure why.
She was going to marry another man in three days. Wouldn't it be
more comfortable for her if he wasn't there, a reminder of the turmoil
in her heart? But Mac seemed to be concerned about his reactions
to what was happening in her life. She had obviously been worried
about his reaction when she'd told him a few weeks earlier that he wouldn't
be able to sit at the head table at the wedding reception. Even already
knowing that he was going to be there, she had asked him specifically a
few hours before the engagement party if she would see him there.
Harm thought that he had finally figured out the tangled feelings between
them, but her concern made it even harder, a constant reminder of what
he could never have. There were times when he wished that he had
remained oblivious. Why had he finally opened up to her on the Admiral's
porch? Why couldn't he have backed away, as he'd done on the ferry?
Maybe then it would be easier to pretend that he was happy as the person
he cared about most in the world made a life with another man.
He glanced at Mac and found her looking at him expectantly, waiting
patiently for him to reveal his news. It had been his idea to come
out here. A part of him considered forgetting about the whole thing
and just taking off for the Patrick Henry, letting the chips fall where
they may. But then he remembered the hurt look on her face when she
had found out he'd had his eyes fixed without telling her. He'd promised
himself that he would never do that to her again. But once again,
the rules of engagement had changed.
"So how was your presentation?" he asked, breaking the silence, deciding
to go with small talk while he figured out how to break his news.
"It went fine," she replied, recognizing the delaying tactic, but going
along with it. She was trying to learn not to push him so hard.
Hell, her pushing had been what had put them in this situation to begin
with. First, she'd pushed too hard in Sydney and ended up in another
man's arms. Then, she'd pushed him at the engagement party, but instead
of running away as he had in Sydney, he'd pushed back this time and look
what it had gotten them. Three days before her wedding and she couldn't
convince herself to be the ecstatic bride.
"You do love your husband, don't you?"
"I don't know."
Mac shook her head, trying to banish the thoughts which had been plaguing
her since the party and which had found a focus as she had researched her
presentation on the Somers mutiny of 1842. How had she managed to
relate the court-martial of her ancestor to her ambivalence about Mic?
She sighed. The Somers mutiny was hardly a safe topic for conversation.
Then again, was there any such thing between them anymore?
"Mac?" Harm asked, watching her with concern. "Are you okay?"
"There's just a lot going on," she replied. It was the truth,
as far as that went.
Harm came to a stop and turned to her. Mac glanced around them.
They were at a far corner of the grounds surrounding JAG headquarters,
away from the usual traffic of people coming and going. That nagging
voice inside Mac's head suggested that this wasn't a good idea, but she
squashed it. Harm was her best friend. She owed it to him to
listen to what he had to say.
"As I'm sure you're aware," he began, "I have to qualify every year
to keep my flight status current. My year is up at the end of the
month and I've done everything except for the carrier landing portion of
my quals." He watched as she thought about what he was saying, making
the connections in her mind.
"You're going to be deployed sometime in the next week to a carrier,"
she concluded.
"I report to the Patrick Henry tomorrow," he told her, continuing quickly
before she could protest. "I'm driving up to Norfolk tonight and
I'll take a helo from there in the morning. Just in case something
happens and things take longer than planned, it's better to go now, than
wait until after the holiday Monday when there will only be three days
left in the month. Anyway, as of next week, I'm acting chief of staff
and need to be here at JAG. The Admiral wasn't exactly happy about
me leaving now as it is, with you taking the next couple of days off."
"I see," she replied carefully, having the sinking feeling she knew
where this was going. "And when will you be back?"
"I'm not sure," he replied, shrugging. This was the part that
he was dreading telling her. "The plan is sometime Saturday, but
I'm not sure exactly when. Could even be Sunday."
"Sunday," she repeated, trying – and not entirely succeeding - to stifle
her dismay. "My wedding's on Saturday and there's the rehearsal
dinner on Friday."
"I know," he said softly. If he was aware of nothing else, it
was that her wedding to another man was on Saturday. "I'm up against
a deadline here. If I delay the orders until after the wedding, then
I run the risk of running out of time to complete my quals. Sure,
I can probably complete them in a couple of days, maybe three, but things
can happen that can drag that out."
"And if you don't complete your quals, then your flight status is threatened,"
she realized. She knew how much his flight status meant to him, even
if he was no longer a part of an active duty squadron. "I understand,
but. . . ."
"Mac," he said, picking up her right hand and squeezing it gently.
"I'm sorry."
"You said the plan is to come back on Saturday?" she asked, clinging
to that thought.
"That's the idea," he replied, hoping that she wasn't going where he
thought she was about to with this. It would be easier if he couldn't
make it back. "I'd like to salvage something of the holiday weekend
before my workload is doubled for the next couple of weeks."
"I suppose you have plans with Renee," she said, trying to bury the
flicker of jealousy she felt. She was with Mic. She couldn't
expect him to spend his time pining for her, despite coming to terms with
the feelings between them. It wasn't fair….to any of them.
"Not really," he admitted. Renee had pushed, but even before he'd
known about his orders for the Patrick Henry, he'd made the excuse that
he wanted to get a jump start on some of the extra work that he would be
stuck with. Of course, his desire to be alone had more to do with
regrets over the direction of his life than a burning desire to work through
the holiday weekend. He knew that he wasn't going to be very good
company this weekend and he wasn't really in the mood to tolerate Renee's
attempts to distract him.
She stared at her hand in his, her gaze focused on his thumb idly tracing
circles on her palm. "Harm, I need you…." she began, realizing how
that sounded. She quickly added, a bit flustered, "I want you to
be there for me. With Uncle Matt in Leavenworth, Chloe's going to
be my only family there. I've got friends, but you mean….more to
me than just about anyone. That's why I'd invited you to the rehearsal
dinner even though you're not in the wedding party. If nothing else,
I need you to be at the wedding."
"Why, Mac?" he questioned her. He still held her hand and she
could feel the heat where his thumb gently rubbed her slowly spreading
up her arm and through her. Her breath caught as she tried to think
of a reply.
"I don't know," she admitted, her voice hesitant. "I just know
that I need you there. I need to know that you are there and are….happy
for me."
"If this is what you want," he reminded her, "then I'm happy for you."
Anyone who didn't know him very well might not have caught the slight tremor
in his voice, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as Mac.
But Mac, learning to look for the little clues to what he was thinking,
noticed it, perhaps because it reflected the doubts in her own heart.
"Harm," she said, her voice with a hint of pleading, "I know that I'm
asking a lot, and I can't explain why this is so important for me.
Maybe it's that I think this will provide some closure. But I do
know that I need to know that you will be there for me."
Harm tilted her head up with a finger, his gaze meeting hers and he
allowed himself just a moment to become lost in the dark depths of her
eyes. In that moment, he remembered why he would do anything for
her. "I will," he said softly. "I promise."
Mac licked her suddenly dry lips. He would come home in time for
the wedding. He wouldn't let anything stand in his way. Harm
always kept his promises.
"Don't make a promise you can't keep."
"I haven't yet."
Well, he'd never broken a promise to her yet. It would be another
three years before he would be forced to break that one. Until then,
she would hold onto the knowledge that Harm's word was worth more than
the most precious metal. "Thank you," she whispered, unconsciously
leaning forward slightly as she lost herself in the turmoil evident in
his eyes. She knew this would hurt him, more than he would probably
ever admit, even to her. But he would still come simply because she
had asked him to. She didn't deserve for him to be so kind and understanding.
She closed her eyes, forcing back the tears that threatened to form.
She felt his free hand brush her cheek, meant to be a gesture of comfort.
But she could feel so much more in his touch. Opening her eyes, she
found that they had somehow moved even closer together. It would
be so easy. All she had to do would be to stretch up just a little
bit and she could satisfy the hunger she'd been trying so hard to forget
since the party.
That night, things had gotten away from her as a simple goodbye kiss
had turned into so much more. This time, Mac was fully aware of what
she was doing and what this meant as she closed the remaining distance
between them and stood up on tip toe to press her lips against his.
She moaned against his open mouth when she felt his hand go to her back,
welcoming the return of the heat she remembered from that night.
Her hand slid up his arm and over his shoulder board to press against the
back of his neck, her fingers moving over him in a soft massage.
They were outside, where anyone might walk by, but neither had the strength
or the will to put out the fire threatening to engulf them.
Harm started to pull away first, but he'd been haunted as much as she
had been the last couple of weeks and he found that he couldn't.
He tugged at her lower lip, lightly running his tongue along the soft flesh,
before losing himself again and deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping
the welcoming depths of her mouth. She swayed slightly against him
as she met him with equal fervor, her tongue wrestling with his, and he
tightened his hold on her.
Mac was finally the one who broke away first, taking a step back as
she felt something hard pressing against her stomach. This was spinning
too far out of their control. Harm turned his back to her, his breathing
ragged, trying to regain some small measure of control over himself.
Mac reached out and let her fingers brush against his arm before dropping
her hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Don't be," Harm replied just as softly, turning his head to glance
back at her. "Never be sorry."
Mac wasn't sure she had the right to ask for more, but she did anyway.
She couldn't help herself, anymore than she could have stopped herself
from falling into his arms again, even when they both knew they shouldn't.
"Stop by and see me before you go?" she requested.
Harm turned his head away again and nodded. "I will," he vowed.
Mac took a deep breath and forced herself to walk away, back to the
pile of work waiting for her on her desk. But the voice was back
in her head, taunting her.
You do love your husband, don't you?….You do love your husband, don't
you?….You do love your husband, don't you?
"What does love have to do with anything?" she retorted aloud, drawing
a curious glance from a passing petty officer, who snapped off a salute
as soon as she caught sight of the silver oak clusters on Mac's collar.
Mac automatically returned the salute, but she couldn't get the question
out of her mind. She just wished that she could satisfy herself with
the answer.
~*~*~*~
A FEW HOURS LATER
Oddly enough, Mac found herself better able to concentrate on her work
after her meeting with Harm. With a smile on her face, she signed
off on another report and tossed it on top of the rapidly growing pile
of completed work.
"Thinking about our wedding, I hope," Mic said from the door.
Mac looked up from the file she had just picked up, forcing the smile to
remain on her face.
"Mic," she said brightly. If her voice a little too bright, she
was the only one who realized it. Mic rarely noticed the subtle clues
– the look in her eyes, the slight change in her voice – that signaled
a change in mood. Even when she was visibly upset at him, he tended
more often than not to ignore the reason behind the mood, opting to try
to charm her out of her bad mood rather than dealing with what had caused
it in the first place. But it never resolved any of the problems
between them. More and more, Mac was beginning to realize that.
But it wasn't that simple. Not after all this time.
Harm would have noticed, the voice in her head reminded her. Mac
shook her head and forced her attention back to her fiancé.
"What can I do for you, Mic?" she asked as she opened the folder in front
of her.
"Just wanted to see if you wanted to take off a bit early and spend
some time with me, luv," he said cheerfully.
"Mic," she protested, managing for the most part to keep the frustration
out of her voice, "I have a lot of work to finish. Today's my last
day before the wedding and I want to get as much of this done as possible."
"Rabb's filling in as chief of staff while you're gone, right?" he countered.
"I'm sure he would understand if you left it for him, with the wedding
to think about and all that."
Mac managed to bite back a stinging retort. Everything was going
to be hard enough for Harm as it was in the coming days and weeks.
She wasn't about to make things worse by unnecessarily dumping her work
in his lap so she could play hooky with her persistent fiancé, even
if Harm was going to be around to handle the extra load. Which he
wasn't, she reminded herself.
Harm chose that moment to poke his head in Mac's office. "Sorry,
am I interrupting anything?" he asked automatically, although sorry was
about as far away from what he felt as one could get. But he would
make nice even if it killed him. He wasn't about to lose Mac's friendship,
no matter to whom she was married. And if Mic had a problem with
his and Mac's friendship, Harm was determined that was going to be Mic's
problem – not his and certainly not Mac's if he could help it. Mac
had promised that she wasn't going to lose him and Harm was holding onto
that with everything in him.
Mic opened his mouth to speak, to give Harm the brush off, but Mac jumped
in before he could start anything. "Of course not," Mac replied smoothly.
"Are you taking off already?"
"The Admiral gave me the time to go home and pack since I'm driving
to Norfolk," Harm replied, focusing his attention on her. Unfortunately,
Mic did notice that – he tried to notice everything when he saw Harm and
Mac together – and decided to interrupt.
"Heading off on a case, mate?" Mic asked, his voice too pleasant.
Maybe it would keep Harm away long enough to miss the wedding. Mic
could have cared less if Harm was there to wish them well, even if it meant
forgoing the opportunity to show off his hard-won bride. Although
he had professed to Renee that he wasn't concerned, he wouldn't rest easy
on that score until the wedding ring was firmly on Mac's finger and she
was truly and forever his. He couldn't banish the occasional vision
he had of Harm standing up in the middle of the ceremony and declaring
his undying love for Mac. In this case, when it came down to a choice
between showing off his wife to Harm and resting easy because Harm was
absent, he'd take the resting easy. He'd have the rest of their lives
to show off his wife and to remind Harm that Mac was forever his.
"My annual carrier quals," he replied, his voice just as pleasant.
"I'm taking a helo to the Patrick Henry in the morning from there."
"I asked Harm to stop by before he left," Mac added. "I just wanted
to make sure that there is nothing pending that I need to look at this
afternoon." Her eyes were on Harm as she said it and he nodded slightly,
acknowledging the silent plea to back her up.
"I managed to clear my desk," Harm said, bolstering her story.
Like her, he had returned to his office with a renewed determination to
bury himself in work. He'd even managed to make a dent in the usual
backlog of reports on his desk, reports he'd thought to put off until Mac
was gone on her honeymoon, figuring that he'd need the extra distraction
in the ongoing effort to forget.
"Have a safe trip and good luck on your quals," she said, smiling at
him. She focused completely on Harm and managed to forget for just
a moment that they weren't alone in the room. "I'll see you on Saturday."
Managed to forget until Mic reminded her. "You'll be back in time
for the wedding?" he asked, his displeasure thinly veiled. Mac closed
her eyes briefly against the sudden headache threatening to overwhelm her.
"I'll be back Saturday morning," Harm confirmed, taking a small amount
of pleasure in bursting Mic's hope that he wouldn't be at the wedding.
"I promised Mac that I'd be there. Well, I need to get going.
Mac, I'll see you Saturday."
Mac got up and walked around to the door, stepping out of the office
with Harm without even a glance in Mic's direction. "I'll see you,"
she said, stepping close enough to him that she was able to brush her hand
again his without it being glaringly obvious to everyone in the bullpen.
"And thank you again."
Harm lowered his voice so that only she would hear. "I'd do anything
for you, Mac," he reminded her. He then smiled and said aloud, "Tell
Chloe I said 'hi' when she arrives and I'll see you both at the wedding."
"I will," Mac promised, walking with him towards the elevator.
She had all but forgotten Mic's presence in her office. "I know she's
looking forward to seeing you."
"Mac. . . ." Harm began, but he stopped, shaking his head. He
stopped in front of the elevator doors and turned to face her. "I
just want you to call me if you need anything, even if it's just someone
to talk to. I'm sure the next few days are going to be a bit crazy."
"Thank you," she said softly. "For everything. Goodbye,
Harm."
"Goodbye, Mac," he replied just as softly, lifting his hand to brush
against hers as the elevator doors opened before them. There was
no one stepping off the elevator, no one else waiting to get on, so Harm
let his hand linger over hers just a little longer than was really necessary
before dropping it back to his side.
Mac stood there until Harm stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed
between them. With a sad sigh, she returned to her office, where
Mic was still waiting for her. She hesitated, then closed the door
behind her, just in case.
He had not been happy that she'd walked out of the office with Harm,
barely giving him a second thought. By the time she'd returned, he
was close to fuming. "Rabb get off okay?" he asked, a hint of sarcasm
evident in his tone.
"Mic, I really do have a lot of work to get done before my leave," she
protested, hoping he would drop the subject and just leave her in peace.
"Do you think we can talk later?"
Mic wasn't about to let the subject of Harm slide. "Why did he
promise to be back in time for the wedding?" he mused.
"He wasn't sure if he would be able to get back," she replied calmly,
promising herself that she wasn't going to argue about this, no matter
how much Mic pushed. "I asked him to promise that he would be here
for the wedding."
"Why?"
"Why not?" Mac countered with a sigh. Calm, she reminded herself.
"My uncle's in Leavenworth, Chloe's the only family I've got. The
next closest thing I have to family are my friends at JAG. Harm's
been there for me through a lot and it's natural that I would want him
at my wedding."
"I'm your family now," Mic stressed. He thought by allowing them
to say their goodbyes at the party that Harm would be firmly in her past
and she would focus completely on him. If anything, she had been
increasingly distant since the party. He just had to remind her that
he was the one whom loved her and whom she would be marrying in three days.
"Mic, my friends are very important to me and I want them to be at my
wedding," she retorted. "*All* of them and that is non-negotiable.
Besides, I thought you and Renee were friends and I hear that she's really
looking forward to the wedding." Harm hadn't said so in so many words,
but Mac suspected that Renee's desire to be at the wedding had more to
do with making sure her perceived competition was out of the way than wishing
Mac and Mic the best. Maybe she and Mic should get together, she
thought. Renee and Mic certainly had a lot in common, including a
distrust of the relationship between their significant others. Of
course, that distrust come without knowing what had transpired within the
last few weeks. If they knew that….Mac shook her head, trying to
banish the thoughts from her mind, wondering where that wild idea had come
from.
At Mic's questioning glance, she managed a smile. "Just thinking
about the wedding," she told him, trying to sound like the joyous bride-to-be.
It was the truth, in a way, and it certainly did the job in distracting
Mic, she told herself, judging from the wide smile now on his face.
"Now, I really do need to get back to work. I've got to get finished
with all this and then Chloe and her father are arriving late this afternoon."
"Fine," Mic said, seemingly satisfied that he had managed to divert
her thoughts from Harm to their wedding. As she opened the door,
Mic came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling
her neck. Momentarily startled, Mac reminded herself to relax as
she extricated herself from his arms.
"We're in the office, remember?" she pointed out quietly. She
took his hand and squeezed, hoping that he was reassured that she wasn't
rejecting him.
"Sorry, luv," Mic apologized. "I suppose I can wait until later
and, of course, I'll have you to myself for two weeks on our honeymoon."
"Mic," she said with a sigh, shaking her head. It made her a little
uncomfortable when he was overly affectionate in public, but he didn't
notice, mistaking her discomfort for anticipation of when they would be
alone together.
"Later, luv," Mic said, stepping out of her office. Mac was about
to go back to her desk when he added, "Walk me to the elevator?"
He managed to make it sound like a pleasant request, but inside Mic was
bothered. She had walked Rabb to the elevator without a second thought,
but he had to remind her to extend the same courtesy to him. Too
bad she wouldn't take off the rest of the day with him. Then he could
work on that reminder of his place in her life.
Mac stopped and nodded, managing another smile as she gestured him to
go ahead of her. As Mac walked slightly behind him, she ran her fingers
along the collar of her uniform where his lips had moved over her, wishing
that she felt the same tingling sensation still present on her lips from
Harm's kiss earlier.
~*~*~*~
HARM'S APARTMENT
Harm packed automatically – blindly tossing items in his overnight bag.
He's been on so many trips that he knew what he needed to pack without
even thinking about it. Sometimes he wondered why he didn't just
keep a bag packed and ready to go at all times. You would have thought
that he would have learned that, if nothing else, after sixteen years as
a Naval officer and four years at Annapolis.
"Do you have anything to pick up?"
"I’m a Marine, Harm. First to go. We always keep a packed
bag in the car."
"I guess that's the difference between sailors and Marines. I
keep golf clubs in my car."
He shook his head, trying to banish the memory. Memories.
They had become the bane of his existence the last few weeks, ever since
that damned engagement party. It was like a floodgate had been opened
– everywhere he turned, he was haunted by her face, by the way things used
to be between them, by what would now never be. In three days, she
would become Mrs. Mic Brumby and apparently nothing was going to stop that
now. Not even what had happened between them that night - what was
continuing to happen between them - was apparently enough to cause Mac
to turn her back on the arrogant Australian.
He should have run in the other direction after that kiss on the Admiral's
porch. By her words as they'd broke apart, it seemed that she had
clearly meant it as some sort of goodbye, a farewell to what might have
been. She'd even tried to pull away at first, before he'd pulled
her back and they'd both lost themselves for an all-too-brief moment in
the hint of what could have been. But as they'd stood side by side
as Harriet's promotion was announced, their hands brushing, he'd realized
that there was no way he could run from this, not anymore.
As he'd told her, the thing he wanted most was to never lose her, even
if the only way he could have her now was only as a friend. And as
he'd walked into JAG that Monday morning after the party, that was precisely
what he had feared would happen. He had been afraid that she would
be the one to run – away from him and from the feelings swirling between
them which had finally surfaced. He had nearly frozen in place as
he'd gone to the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee, finding her already
in the kitchen, emptying a packet of sugar into her mug. He'd watched
her for a moment, debating whether to go in there and face head on whatever
might happen or turn and head for his office until the coast was clear
and he was safe from everything that he was afraid of.
The decision ended up being taken out of his hands when she had turned
around, coffee in hand, and had seen him standing in the doorway.
Then the most amazing thing had happened. She'd smiled at him and
said 'Good morning', just like it was any another morning. Smiling
and greeting her in return, he'd entered the kitchen and set about preparing
his own beverage. As he'd turned back to his mug after replacing
the carafe in the coffee maker, his arm had accidentally brushed against
hers. He didn't remember her being that close to him when he'd poured
his coffee. Had she been closer than he'd thought she was?
Or had she moved closer to him, driven by the same need to be near him
which he was trying to quash in himself?
From there, the ice had been broken. Whenever they ended up together,
they seemed to always end up touching. Maybe it was just his hand
on her arm, wanting to point something out to her. Or her arm brushing
against his, lingering just a little bit longer than necessary as she handed
him a piece of paper in the weekly staff meeting. Or a congratulatory
pat on the shoulder after a hard-fought win in court. But for the
diamond glaring brightly from her left hand, soon to be joined by a band
of gold, it was as if time had finally been turned back – before his return
to flying, before Sydney, before Mic, before Renee, before all the other
little things that had conspired to tear them apart.
But their kiss in the courtyard today – that had come out of nowhere.
Or maybe it had been inevitable, the only logical result of their renewed
closeness, both physical and emotional. Harm couldn't decide which
it was. Maybe they should have run from each other. If it could
happen once – as it had on the Admiral's porch – then surely it wasn't
outside the realm of possibility that it could happen again. But
they couldn't have predicted how that simple kiss could spin so quickly
out of control, could they? How were they to know that it would only
be the uniforms they wore and the fact that they were in a public setting
that would serve to prevent them from giving themselves up to the desire
and need which was flaring up between them.
It went against everything he believed in, the honor which had been
instilled in him as an officer and a gentleman. But there were some
things that even the most stringent military discipline couldn't control
or contain and, God help them both, this appeared to be one of them.
Sometimes he wished that what she had once accused him of had been true,
that he looked at her and saw Diane. Then it would be easier to convince
himself that he shouldn't want her, shouldn't desire her, that his emotions
only stemmed from her resemblance to his lost love and that it wasn't enough
to risk everything over and not fair to any of them.
"Hey, Sailor," Renee said, wrapping her arms around him from behind.
Harm tensed slightly, having not even heard her come in. "I wasn't
expecting you to be home so early. I thought I'd be here waiting
for you…." Harm stepped to the side, out of her arms, and Renee got
a good look at the open travel bag on his bed. "Where are you going?"
"Remember, I told you my carrier quals were coming up," he reminded
her. "I just got my orders this morning. I report to the Patrick
Henry tomorrow morning. I'm catching a helo out of Norfolk."
"Well, can't you delay?" she asked, a slight pout on her face, waving
her hand as if dismissing his orders. "I mean, Mac's wedding is Saturday."
Truth be told, Renee was desperate for the two of them to attend the wedding.
She wanted Harm to watch as Mac pledged her life and love to another man
and hoped that the finality of that action would finally push Harm where
she wanted him to go – completely and absolutely hers. Once Mac was
forever out of his reach, then surely it would be easier to convince him
to give her the miracle she wanted.
Harm sighed inwardly. He knew why she had brought the wedding
up. She'd certainly been dropping enough hints over the last few
months. Hell, she'd even admitted that she was counting the days
until the wedding, right after she'd pressed him about his feelings for
Mac and he'd sidestepped the issue. But he couldn't bring himself
to care right now. Maybe it was harsh, considering that he'd been
involved with her for a year and a half, but his heart was firmly in the
grasp of one Sarah Mackenzie and after the party, he could not run from
that any more. "Renee, I'll be back in time for the wedding," he
said with a patience that he didn't really feel. "I spoke to Mac
earlier and she pointed out the same thing and I promised to be back in
time."
"Oh," Renee said, managing to mask her irritation. The woman was
getting married in three days, but she was the one who managed to extract
a promise from Harm to return in time for the wedding. Renee had
the feeling deep down that if she had asked him to return to escort her
to the wedding, he would have come up with at least a dozen reasons why
he wouldn't make it back in time. Time to change the topic and remind
him that *she* was the one in his life. "So what do you want to do
this afternoon? I managed to clear my schedule so that I could surprise
you when you got off work but it's still a little early for the dinner
reservations that I made for us, so I'm flexible." She wrapped her
arms around him again and let her hands roam freely, giving him a very
good idea of what she wanted to do.
Harm extricated himself from her embrace, momentarily haunted by another
woman, another embrace – one that he hadn't wanted to let go of.
He could almost see the electricity sparking when Mac touched him.
With Renee, although it felt pleasant enough, he didn't have the sense
that he'd starve if he never felt her touch again. He zipped up his
bag and carried it over to the door. "Renee, I'm leaving on a helo
first thing in the morning from a base three hours away," he pointed out.
He dropped the bag on the floor under the coat rack and turned to face
her, not really surprised that the pout was still present on her face.
It was an emotion that she was very good at and liked to trot out every
time his job took him away from her. "I'm driving down to Norfolk
tonight. In fact, I was planning to leave as soon as I called you
to let you know what was going on."
Of course, he just had to tell Mac that he was leaving before he told
her. Just three more days, she reminded herself. In seventy-two
hours, Sarah Mackenzie would be Sarah Brumby and out of their lives – and
out of their relationship – forever. "Do you have to?" she pouted,
then snapped her fingers and smiled as an idea came to her. It would
require some more rearranging of her schedule, but this was too important.
"Why don't I give Claude a call and push back tomorrow's schedule for a
few hours? Then I can accompany you to Norfolk and give you a proper
goodbye before you go."
"No, Renee," he said, picking up a stack of mail off the bookcase and
idly flipping through it, not that he hadn't already done so when he'd
gotten home. He just wasn't in the mood for Renee's pleading.
"Quals are very stressful. If I don't do well, then I can lose my
flight status. I'm driving up to Norfolk tonight so I can get a good
night's sleep and be well rested for my quals, which would be the last
thing that would happen if you came with me."
"Harm, she's getting married in three days," Renee pointed out, fingering
the string of pearls around her neck. Wonderful. How was she
supposed to make him forget if he kept pushing her away? Well, she
wasn't a woman who would tolerate being pushed away.
He turned around and stared at her as if she'd suddenly grown two heads,
dropping the stack of mail back on the bookcase. "Since when were
we talking about Mac?" he demanded. "I was talking about my carrier-landing
quals." Right, and you're in such a foul mood because you're worried
about catching the two wire, he chided himself.
"Since she's always between us," Renee countered, "even when she's not
here. Tell me, if she hadn't asked you to make a point of it, would
you even care if you made it back in time for her wedding?"
"Of course," he said, using the same line he'd often used on himself
in the last few months as he'd watched her make wedding plans with Brumby.
Not that he thought it would convince Renee any more than he had managed
to convince himself with it. "Mac has been a close friend for nearly five
years."
"And more?" she mused. She'd often wondered, but both she and
Mic had tried to convince themselves that it didn't matter. All that
should have mattered was that he had Mac and she had Harm. But the
more distant he became as the wedding drew closer, the more she needed
to know.
"I am not going there with you," he said firmly, barely able to keep
the anger out of his voice, picking up his bag and slinging it over his
shoulder. She noted that, as before, he hadn't really denied her
assertion. "As you said, Mac is getting married in three days.
And that's the end of it."
Studying him with his determined expression and hand on the door knob,
Renee reluctantly convinced herself to let it drop for now. At least
he would be in Norfolk, then on a carrier in the middle of the Atlantic
Ocean, and Mac would be here in Washington, distracted by all those pesky
last-minute wedding details. She pressed against his side, intending
to give him a deep, passionate goodbye kiss, but he turned to open the
door and she only managed to press her lips against the corner of his mouth.
"You'll call me when you get back," she said hopefully. "Or if you
are running behind, you could get ready for the wedding then come by to
pick me up." She couldn't help throwing in one more reminder of the
door that was about to close to him.
He nodded as they stepped out of the apartment and he closed the door
behind him, locking it. "I'll call," he agreed, trying not to think
about escorting her to the wedding that was threatening to rip his heart
to shreds.
"Good," she said, turning her to him as they stood in the hall and this
time managing to catch him off-guard enough to give him a kiss, even if
it wasn't quite the kind of kiss she'd wanted to give. "Just remember
that I'm waiting for you."
As he climbed into his car, Harm tossed his bag on the seat beside him
with a sigh. Renee was his girlfriend, but when she had just kissed
him, he hadn't felt anything. He had been automatic, rote in his
response. He couldn't make himself feel anything. Truth be
told, he'd been that way ever since the party, when he'd held in his arms
the one woman whose kisses would always haunt him.
~*~*~*~
Mac was distracted as she walked across the street to her building.
What was happening? She had spent the better part of a year trying
to convince herself that she was in love with one Mic Brumby, but all that
had fallen apart with one simple kiss. Now, as she was about to marry
one man, she craved the touch and kisses of another as much as she craved
the air that she breathed.
"Hey, Mac!" a voice called out from in front of her. Mac looked
up from where she was studying the cracks in the sidewalk in front of her
to see her sister running towards her. She held her arms out and
gathered Chloe into her embrace.
"It's so good to see you," she said. Oddly, for the first time
in a long time, Mac felt relaxed. She took a step back and studied
Chloe. "You've grown since the last time I saw you."
"Well, I'm grown up now," Chloe proclaimed, watching Mac. She
was worried about her, had been ever since Mac had told her at Christmas
that she had agreed to marry Mic. Now that she could see Mac in person,
she was even more concerned. Three days before her wedding and the
last image that Mac projected was that of a happy bride-to-be.
Mac laughed. At least some things were constant. Chloe was
still Chloe. "You just turned fourteen a few days ago," she pointed
out.
"Yeah, fourteen going on forty," another voice interjected. Chloe
sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Dad!"
"Hello again, Kyle," Mac said warmly, holding out her hand to him.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm doing well," he replied as he shook her hand. "Congratulations
on your wedding."
Chloe noticed the brief cloud that passed over Mac's face at the mention
of the wedding, but then it was gone and Mac was smiling again. "Thank
you," she replied.
"Look, we need to go get checked into our hotel," Kyle said. "But
Chloe insisted we had to stop by and let you know that we made it here."
"I asked Dad if I could stay with you while he goes get us checked in,"
Chloe interrupted excitedly. "Since we haven't seen each other in
a while, I thought we could take some time to get caught up, just us women."
"If it's okay with you, of course," Kyle said, trying to be the voice
of reason.
Mac's looked at her sister and her heart melted. She could use
the company – and maybe Chloe could help distract her from the turmoil
haunting her night and day. "It's fine, Kyle," Mac assured him.
"I'd love to have Chloe to myself for a few hours."
"Great!" Chloe exclaimed. "See you later, Dad!"
Kyle laughed as he kissed his daughter's forehead. "Well, I guess
she's all yours then, Mac," he acquiesced. "Just give me a call if
she gets to be too much. Otherwise, I'll pick her up in a few hours
for dinner." He winked, causing Mac to laugh and Chloe to roll her
eyes again.
"Bye, Kyle," Mac said. "We'll see you later."
"Bye, Dad," Chloe echoed. They both watched as Kyle walked down
the street back to where he had parked their rental car. Once he
had driven off, Mac put her arm over Chloe's shoulder and lead her into
her building.
"You don't know how glad I am to see you," Mac said.
"So how's Harm?" Chloe asked, managing to sound completely innocent.
Bingo, she thought as she noted the pained look in Mac's eyes at the mention
of his name.
It took Mac a moment to shake the memory of their walk from her mind
and to attempt a convincing answer. "Harm's fine," she replied, glancing
down at her engagement ring. She shook her head. "He's leaving
tonight for Norfolk. He has to complete his annual carrier-landing
qualifications by the end of the month."
"You mean he's not going to be here for the wedding?" Chloe asked, raising
her voice as Mac unlocked her apartment door. A passing neighbor
looked at them oddly and Mac ushered Chloe into the apartment, firmly closing
the door behind them. "I can't believe this." Chloe was upset.
She'd held onto her dreams of someday being the flower girl at Harm and
Mac's wedding. Mac's upcoming wedding to Mic was just a minor stumbling
block to that. She'd had romantic visions of Harm sweeping in and
declaring his undying love for Mac, carrying her away from what would be
the biggest mistake of her life. How could he do that if he wasn't
even going to be there?
"Chloe, Harm's going to be at the wedding," Mac assured her, puzzled
by Chloe's reaction. Sure, Chloe was very fond of Harm, but you'd
think Harm was the one she was marrying from the way she was acting.
"I spoke to him earlier. He promised to be back in time for the wedding."
Chloe couldn't help her sigh of relief. "Good," she said, relieved.
"Then it's not too late."
"Too late for what?" Mac asked, although she had a feeling that she
already knew the answer to that question. She really shouldn't be
surprised that Chloe was managing to give voice the doubts in her own heart.
Chloe had always been one to speak her mind and had always been expressing
hope that Harm and Mac would eventually get together. She needed
to nip this in the bud. She had enough on her mind without her sister
adding to the turmoil. Chloe was supposed to help make her feel better,
not doubt herself even more. "Chloe, I…."
"Why are you marrying him?" Chloe asked, abruptly changing the subject
from Harm to Mac's intended husband.
"What?" Mac turned around and stared at her sister incredulously,
startled by the sudden redirection of their conversation.
"Why are you marrying Mic Brumby?" Chloe clarified. "What is it
about him that is making you choose to spend the rest of your life with
this man?"
"Well," Mac began slowly, trying to gather her thoughts, "he's a good
man. He makes me laugh. He gave up a lot to be with me here
– his career in the Navy, his home in Australia. And most importantly,
he's offering me the life I've always wanted – a home, a family eventually."
Chloe wanted to strangle her sister. How could such an intelligent
woman be so completely dense when it came to her personal life? She
sighed heavily. Sometimes she felt like she was the older one.
"What about love?" she pressed.
What does love have to do with anything?
Yeah, what does it have to do with anything, she asked herself.
She'd been in love – and her affections had been thrown back in her face
with talk of not being able to let go and waiting, possibly for eternity.
When Mac didn't answer immediately, Chloe repeated the question.
Mac shook her head, trying to clear it. "Chloe, it's a lot more complicated
than that," she tried to explain, but Chloe waved her off.
"The only complication I see here is that you love Harm," Chloe countered,
"he loves you and – for some God-unknown reason that I have been trying
to figure out ever since you first told me you had agreed to wear Mic's
ring – you're about to throw your life away on marriage to a man whom you
definitely do not love."
"I never said that," Mac protested, but it sounded weak, even to her
own ears.
"And you never said that you do love him either," Chloe pointed out.
"Come on, Mac. It's not that hard, if you really do love him.
It's just three little words. Say them."
"I…." Mac began, the rest of the words sticking in her throat.
Chloe wanted to jump up and down in triumph, but stopped at the look of
utter despair on Mac's face.
Chloe walked across the room to Mac and clasped her hands. "Mac,"
she said, her tone very serious and grown-up, "you’re my sister and I love
you. So please listen to me when I say that I'm worried about you.
I'm scared that you're about to make a huge mistake. You love one
man, but you're about to marry another. You're settling for some
reason that I don't think even you understand. Please, think about
this some more before you end up ruining three lives."
"Chloe, I've made my decision," Mac said, sounding uncertain, as if
trying to convince herself as much as Chloe. "Harm has agreed to
live with it. So should you. Please, I want you to be happy
for me."
"Did it ever occur to you that Harm's accepting your decision only because
you're not giving him a choice," Chloe asked sadly, "that he loves you
enough to let you walk away because that is what *you* are making him believe
that you want? He's falling on his sword because he loves you enough
to let you go if that is what make you happy."
You've made a choice to get married and I respect that.
"Harm's not falling on his sword," Mac protested, even as she began
to seriously consider the possibility in her own mind. How many times
had he told her that he was happy for her if she was happy? Sure,
they touched more now than they had in the last couple of years – touched
the way they used to before….things….had conspired to nearly tear their
friendship apart. That didn't mean that Harm was in love with her.
But their kisses – the way he had pulled her back to him during both kisses,
as if he couldn't get enough of her. Those were hardly the actions
of a man who was happy that she was marrying someone else.
"Have you ever asked him?" Chloe asked. "Or is he just telling
you what you think you want to hear because you haven't asked?"
"Chloe…." Mac began, pulling her hands away and turning to look out
the window. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining blindingly bright.
Too bad it couldn't shed the light of truth on this situation. Or
maybe she was so far gone that she was blinded to the truth. She
didn't know anymore.
"Mac, talk to him," Chloe pleaded, placing her hand on Mac's arm.
"Go see him before he heads to Norfolk. You owe it to yourself, to
him – even to Mic Brumby – to figure this out before you get to the 'until
death us do part'."
When Mac remained silently staring out the window, Chloe shook her head
sadly, an action Mac saw reflected in the window, but didn't acknowledge.
She knew how Chloe felt about Harm – she'd never made any secret of her
hopes for Harm and Mac. But she barely knew Mic. How could
she know what was between the two of them?
"Mac, I'm going to call my dad on his cell phone and ask him to come
pick me up," Chloe said. "Please, think about what I said and please,
go talk to Harm. You should be sure before you get married and from
what I've heard here, you are far from it."
It helps if you're sure.
Mac stood unmoving by the window as Chloe walked across the room and
made her phone call. Maybe she should have stayed as far away from
Harm as possible during that damned party, instead of pushing him until
he finally opened up. Then they would never have kissed and then they wouldn't
have spent the last two weeks touching and then they wouldn't have kissed
today in the courtyard. Then maybe Mac wouldn't have all these doubts.
But as she touched her lips with her fingertips, remembering how they
had tingled from Harm's kisses, she knew at least one thing. She
couldn't have not kissed Harm, anymore than she could deny her own name.
~*~*~*~
After Chloe had left, giving her father the excuse that Mac was exhausted
from all the wedding preparations and that they would spend time together
tomorrow, Mac had paced her living room until she was surprised she hadn't
worn a hole in the carpet. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore
and, grabbing her keys and her purse, left her apartment and took off in
her Corvette, figuring a drive would clear her head.
Permission to come aboard.
Permission granted.
Mac pounded her fist on the steering wheel. He'd captured her
attention from the beginning, looking so confident and cocky and sure with
his gold wings and brand-new medal pinned on by the President of the United
States. She had admitted it to herself when he'd gone out of his
way – after she'd all but betrayed him – to come to the rescue of her and
her uncle, both literally and figuratively. But she hid behind a
façade of Marine discipline and the walls she'd built around herself
to prevent people from getting too close, to prevent anyone else from hurting
her the way her parents had hurt her.
I know. You were kissing her.
That had been easier than admitting the truth – that she had wanted
Harmon Rabb more than she'd wanted any man in her life. But he was
hurting from the memory of his lost love and it was simpler to brush their
kiss off as an aberration, telling herself that he only saw her as a doppelganger
of his dead love. It was better than risking her feelings being shot
down.
Damn you. Why am I the only one crying?
That had probably been the moment, more than any other since they'd
known each other, when she'd wanted him more than she'd wanted her next
breath. She would have done anything if only he'd swept her into
his arms and carried her off, promising that when he would come home, he
would come home to her.
Is that how long we're going to wait?
She should have stuck to her guns, kept telling herself that Harm only
saw her as the living apparition of his dead love. Then maybe she
wouldn't have thrown herself at him and ended up going down in flames,
leading her to accept a ring from another man – a man she hadn't even dated
– just a few nights later.
A 19th-century Naval Commander, with Mic's face, walked down the row
of mutineers about to be hung at his command. He looked each man
in the eye as he pulled the black hood of death over their faces.
Finally, his eyes locked with the third and final man – a man with Harm's
face.
With a sharp jerk of the steering wheel, Mac pulled off the road, gravel
spraying as she came to a stop with the screech of tires on the unpaved
shoulder. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as her
whole body shook with the sobs she forced back, refusing to give into the
tears forming. A snippet of her conversation with Harm at the party
echoed in her head.
What do you want most?
What I want most, Mac, is. . . .is to never lose you.
I promise you - no matter what happens - you won't lose me.
Was that what the dream meant? That if she married Brumby, she'd
lose Harm – their friendship ending up dead and buried, along with anything
else which might have been? "No," she cried out.
"That can't happen." She released the steering wheel and pressed
her hands to her head, fighting against the headache threatening to overwhelm
her. Her head jerked up when she heard a knock on her car window.
Taking a shaky breath, she rolled down the window, finding herself looking
into the eyes of a Virginia State Trooper. "Ma'am, are you alright?"
he asked, studying her intently. Probably looking for signs that
I'm driving drunk, she realized. Figuring that he would ask, she
slowly reached for her license in her purse and registration in the glove
compartment, holding them up for the officer to see.
"I'm sorry," she said, taking another deep breath. "I just got
a little dizzy and thought it best to pull off the road. I didn't
want to get into an accident."
The officer smiled at her and Mac forced herself to relax, managing
a smile in response. "There's an exit just ahead with a gas station
and restaurant," he suggested. "Maybe you can stop there for a while,
get some aspirin, clear your head before you continue on to wherever you're
going."
"That's probably not a bad idea," she agreed. Suddenly, she frowned.
Calculating the time in her head and glancing at the rapidly setting sun,
she realized that she had to have been on the road for a while, blindly
driving wherever the car would take her. Hoping the trooper wouldn't
think she was completely out of it, she asked, "Where am I exactly?
I'm afraid I'm not all that familiar with this part of the state."
"You're just north of Richmond," he replied, not looking at her too
strangely, for which Mac was thankful. "The 295 interchange is a
few miles ahead. Where are you headed?"
"Norfolk," she answered automatically, then stopped. Where on
earth had that come from? She wasn't headed for Norfolk. Yeah,
right, the voice inside her head countered, that's why you're already halfway
there without even realizing where you were going. "I'm going to
see my….a friend. He's deploying in the morning to an aircraft carrier."
"Well, depending on traffic you've probably got another hour and a half
– maybe two – before you get there," he pointed out. "It's probably
not a bad idea to take that break, depending on how far you've come already."
"Washington," she stated. "I'm driving from DC. And thank
you for the suggestion. I think I will take that break at the next
exit." Yeah, I need to figure out just what the hell I'm doing, she
thought.
Satisfied that Mac was okay and not drunk, the trooper returned to his
own vehicle. Mac waited until he had driven off, then pulled back
onto the road herself. As she drew closer to the exit, she considered
her options. All she had to do was get off at the exit, probably
cross a bridge, then get back on the highway going north, back to DC.
That would be for the best.
A few minutes later, in the parking lot of a gas station, Mac was still
debating with herself about which way to go. Straight ahead then
left to I-95 North and back to DC? Or right back onto I-95 South
and continue on to I-295, then I-64, eventually ending up in Norfolk?
You're in love with Harm….if it makes you feel any better, you should
know that Harm's in love with you, too.
Maybe Chloe was right. Maybe she did need to clear the air with
Harm once and for all. They'd made a start on the Admiral's porch,
but maybe they needed to finish it before she could move on – before any
of them could. Mac took a deep breath and started her car.
Her features expressing her determination, her decision firmly set in her
mind, she pulled out of the gas station parking lot and back onto the highway
– heading south towards Norfolk Naval Base.
~*~*~*~
BREEZY POINT OFFICER'S CLUB
After a seemingly unending drive, during which a few stolen moments
in the JAG courtyard and on the Admiral's front porch had played over and
over in his mind, Harm had arrived in Norfolk and promptly checked into
the Navy Lodge. After sprawling out on his bed, staring up at ceiling
for what seemed like forever, but in reality was only about forty-five
minutes, Harm had gotten restless and decided to wander the base, looking
for something to do.
First he'd ambled around the pier, watching the normal change-of-shift
activity surrounding the USS Nimitz, in port while undergoing a two-year
overhaul. He'd spent close to half his career on carriers and normally
loved the bustling activity that surrounded them, even when they were tied
up at the dock. There was always something going on. But this
time, he barely noticed.
The story was the same as he drove by the airfield. He pulled
off the road and parked, watching various planes and helos take off and
land. There were even a few Tomcats, part of a ground unit based
at Norfolk, taking off for maneuvers. Normally, such a sight would
have filled him with an excitement that could barely be contained.
But there was so much else weighing on his mind that he could have been
at the controls of one of those F-14 streaking across the sky and there
still would have been this empty space inside his soul that couldn't be
filled.
Eventually, he'd found himself seated at the bar at the officer's club,
a double bourbon sitting in front of him, untouched. He shook
a handful of pretzels in his hand as he stared at the scarred counter,
then dropped them back into the bowl in front of him. Maybe someday
the wounds on his heart would scar over and then maybe, just maybe, they
wouldn't hurt so much. Perhaps he'd done the right thing in agreeing
to return in time for the wedding, then he could watch as she became Mrs.
Mic Brumby and it would finally start sinking in that she was forever beyond
his reach.
He thought he'd managed to bind up the wounds on his heart, the ones
which had been ripped open at the airport in Sydney, but the last few weeks
had proved the folly of that. On the one hand, he and Mac were closer
than they'd been in two years. Yet they'd never been further apart,
as she prepared to walk down the aisle with another man and he buried himself
in a relationship which satisfied his body but which could never assuage
the hunger in his soul.
He'd told himself that he could be satisfied with her friendship, that
he could live with spending the days with her and watching her go home
to another man at night. But as the days passed and her wedding drew
closer, it became harder and harder to keep up the façade and pretend
that all was well. It became damn near impossible when, for a few
brief moments, he could hold her in his arms and stop pretending, but then
had to face letting her go again.
This bother you?
It's your drink, not mine.
Now how was that for irony? He was trying to use drink to forget
an alcoholic. Even though he was someplace where he didn't have to
pretend, where he could drown his sorrows, her face haunted him, stopping
him from taking the drink. He'd never felt completely comfortable
drinking in front of her, even when she said that she didn't mind.
Now, she wasn't even here, and it still bothered him to drink. He
supposed if nothing else, he had learned from her that alcohol didn't solve
your problems. It might dull the pain, but your problems were still
there in the morning, along with the hangover.
I can't face them, Harm. I can't face you.
Harm pushed the drink away with a sigh of disgust. Maybe he should
have given in and let Renee accompany him, but even that would have been
too hard. How could he continue to take her into his arms when it
was another whose touch he needed and craved?
"Is this seat taken?"
Harm glanced to his side, finding a younger blonde woman standing next
to him, gesturing to the empty bar stool beside him. She wore a leather
flight jacket which identified her as a pilot and a Lieutenant. Well,
they had flying in common and she was pretty enough. But he
couldn't make himself care.
"Actually, I'd prefer to be by myself," he said, his voice short, barely
attempting to be civil. In a huff, the woman turned on her heel and
stormed off. Maybe she was expecting the gold wings to work just
as well for the women as the men, he mused silently. His head jerked
up when he heard a familiar voice beside him, but he couldn't make himself
turn his head, expecting to find there was no one there and it was all
in his head.
"Sounds like the gold wings need a little polishing," Mac said, sliding
onto the stool which the pissed Lieutenant had just wanted to occupy.
Harm shook his head, wondering if he'd managed to get drunk without even
realizing it. Mac was back in Washington, busy playing the blushing
bride.
"I would have thought that was obvious back in Sydney," he snorted,
picking up his drink and tilting the glass in his hand, watching the amber
liquid swirl around. "After all, I sent you into his arms, didn't
I?"
"So we finally see the truth," Mac said, "instead of this façade
you've been showing the world, telling everyone that you're happy for me,
we finally see the bitter man behind the shield."
"Not your problem, now, is it?" he countered angrily. Maybe he
should take a drink. Then maybe he wouldn't be hearing Mac's voice
in his head, taunting him. "After all, you're the one who's getting
married in three days, right?"
"Harm, I thought we agreed that we weren't going to lose each other?"
Mac asked sadly, laying her hand on his. She wondered if this was
how it was going to end, their entire relationship in shambles because
of her marriage. He jerked his hand away, finally turning to look
at her as he realized that the hand on his arm and the voice in his head
were all too real.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Shouldn't you be back
in DC, fawning over the arrogant ass that you're marrying on Saturday?"
Calm, Mac reminded herself. She'd wanted to clear the air with
Harm. Well, what had she expected, more of the 'I'm happy if you're
happy' song and dance? At first, she thought to excuse his behavior
because of what he'd had to drink, but she was close enough to smell his
breath and see it in his eyes. Harm was stone cold sober.
Or maybe it would have just been easier if that's what she had gotten,
the 'I'm happy for you' line which he'd been spouting for well over a year
or if she could excuse the truth coming to light because he was three sheets
to the wind and couldn't keep his mouth shut if he tried. Yeah, but
Harm being drunk would mean he'd have to lose control and Heaven forbid
that he should ever do that.
No, what she was seeing was truth exposed. This was a lonely,
bitter man who – thinking he was away from everyone whom he had to pretend
in front of – was tired of the façade he showed the world every
day and who thought he'd finally found a place where he could get away
from it all.
"I wanted to spend some time with my best friend," she said. It
wasn't the entire truth, but she didn't think he wanted to hear about how
Chloe thought she was conflicted and needed to figure out her feelings
for Harm. At any rate, she wasn't sure she could explain how she'd
gone out for a drive, hoping to clear her head, and had been halfway to
Norfolk before she even realized where she was going.
"Well, in case you didn't hear me a few minutes ago," he said, "I'd
rather be alone right now."
"I don't think so," Mac countered firmly. She wasn't going to
let him push her away this time. Her best friend was hurting and
it hurt her, too. "Again, what happened to us not losing each other?"
"Come on," he said, laughing bitterly, "do you really think that will
work?" He quickly turned his head, but not before she saw the pain
and despair in his eyes.
"Oh, Harm," she whispered, her voice ragged, recognizing her role in
causing the pain of the person she cared about most in the world.
"Please tell me what brought this on."
"What brought this on?" he echoed. "That's an easy one."
Before she even realized his intention – not that she would have stopped
him if she had, she admitted to herself – he leaned towards her and captured
her lips with his. In the same instant, they both gave themselves
up to the kiss, wrapping their arms around each other, each trying to pull
the other closer. For a moment, they both forgot they were in the
middle of a bar, people all around, and one – or maybe both – of them groaned
deep in their throats.
Harm was the first to pull away, leaving Mac with a dazed look on her
face, her lips slightly parted. After a moment, she blinked, trying
to focus on what he was now saying. "Tell me something," he asked
softly so that no one else might overhear. "If we weren't in the
middle of a bar now, if we hadn't been standing in the JAG courtyard earlier
today, if we hadn't been standing on the Admiral's front porch two weeks
ago, do you think we'd be able to stop with just a simple kiss? And
how long can this go on before the circumstances arise when it is just
you and me, with nothing and no one around to tell us no? It can't
go any farther than this. It shouldn't even be going this far.
That's what brought this on."
Mac couldn't make herself answer the question. Her head was telling
her to lie, to remember that she was marrying Mic Brumby in a few days,
to insist that it could and would have stopped there. But her heart
couldn't help pointing out that if Mic was the one she really wanted, then
there would be nothing to discuss because she would be able to keep her
hands off Harm. God help her, she did want more and he was right
– if they hadn't been standing in the middle of a public area earlier today,
she would have gladly melted into his arms and forgotten everything and
everyone but the pleasure she knew she'd find in his embrace.
He studied her for a long moment before sadly adding, "That's what I
thought." Tossing some money on the counter next to his untouched
drink, he slide off his stool and walked out of the bar. Only once
he was around the corner and out of her sight did he stop and momentarily
slump against the wall, letting the weight resting on his shoulders show
in his expression. It was best this way. Mac had made her choice
and he couldn't interfere with that, no matter how much he wanted to.
He had to make himself stay away. Maybe it would be easier after
he watched her walk down the aisle and pledge herself to another man.
Maybe then he could make himself forget that he wanted more and make himself
remember that they could never be anything more than friends.
Back at the bar, Mac stared at the doorway Harm had just gone through,
hesitating. She knew that he was telling the truth when he pointed
out that sooner or later, they would find themselves in a situation where
there would be nothing to stop them from acting on all those feelings that
had been coming to the surface since the engagement party. She kept
trying to tell herself that she was getting married and that she shouldn't,
couldn't be attracted to another man.
She stared down at the engagement ring, watching it sparkle and gleam
in the overhead lights. It had been given in love, she believed,
but had it been received in love or taken to cover up a hurt? It
wasn't fair to Mic. He'd been nothing but patient with her, waiting
in Australia for three months, then in Washington for another seven months
while she hemmed and hawed on making a decision. Then he'd been equally
accepting when wedding preparations had gotten dumped in his lap while
she got caught up in one case or another. After all this time, after
everything he'd put up with from her, she couldn't just walk away from
him.
But she couldn't just walk away from Harm, either, she admitted.
He held such a large part of her heart, a part which Mic Brumby could never
touch. And if she wanted to discuss what she owed to whom, what about
what she owed Harm? He'd been there for her so many times, in good
times and bad, during times when she probably didn't deserve his help and
concern and it would have been easier for him to just turn around and walk
away from her. But he never had. Even when Chris has shown
up and she'd thought Harm wasn't giving her the time of day, he'd eventually
come through for her.
He even stood up for you against Mic, the voice inside her heart pointed
out. It was no wonder Harm didn't like the guy. Practically
the first thing he'd done after arriving in town had been to go after one
of the people closest to Harm.
Yeah, but Mic was quite charming in his apology, the voice in her head
countered. And he does love you. But was it enough?
You do love your husband, don't you?
Swearing softly at herself and the voices fighting it out inside her
head, Mac practically jumped off her stool and ran for the door.
Once outside the club, she faced a moment of indecision. Which way
did he go? A quick glance at the parking lot revealed his SUV was
still there, so whichever way he had gone, it had been on foot.
"Great going, Marine," she muttered. "Next time you decide to
follow someone, how about you don't give them a head start and time to
get away from you?" Glancing at the SUV, she thought that she might
just wait there, maybe sit on the hood of the car until he returned.
He did need to come pick up his car eventually so he could go back to his
hotel. As she walked towards the SUV, she caught sight of a lone
figure on the beach across the street, head hanging down, hands stuffed
in the pockets of his leather jacket. "Harm." She ran across
the street and towards the object of her heart's desire.
As she approached, Harm could hear her breathing heavily as she ran
through the sand, but he didn't turn around. He'd figured that she
would come after him eventually, but he wasn't about to make this easy
for her. He kept walking, ignoring her presence, even after she pulled
up beside him and grabbed his arm to slow him down.
Finally, he stopped, trying to shake off her hand. "I thought
I said…." he started before being angrily interrupted by her.
"Yeah, you said you wanted to be alone," she finished for him.
"I heard you, but I don't believe you. You weren't like this earlier
at JAG. What changed between then and now?"
"What does it matter?" he replied. "It would be best if you just
left. I promised that I would be there for the wedding and I will
be, playing the happy friend…."
"Harm," she pleaded, risking placing her hand back on his arm.
When he didn't resist, she pulled him in the direction of a nearby picnic
table and tugged him to sit next to her on the bench. "Please stop
pretending. Tell me what you're really feeling."
"I don't think you want me to do that," he retorted, turning his head
away so she wouldn't see the struggle in his eyes. He wanted so much
to do as she asked. He wanted to tell her everything and beg her
not to marry Mic. But it wasn't his place to do that. As she'd
pointed out on the Admiral's porch, there were some things that he didn't
get to ask. He'd long since lost that right.
"Why don't you let me decide what I want?" she demanded.
"What do you think I've been doing for the last eighteen months?" he
countered.
His words hit her like a ton of bricks. She looked back over the
months since she'd taken Mic's ring and realized that was exactly what
he'd been doing. He'd stepped back because he thought she'd made
her choice and didn't want to interfere and risk losing their friendship.
She'd made her choice because she hadn't realized she'd had another option.
She lowered her head as she shivered in the chilly night air, wrapping
her arms around her in a vain effort to warm herself.
Even wrapped up in his pain, Harm noticed and he swiftly pulled off
his jacket, draping it over her shoulders. "You're freezing," he
said, pointing out the obvious. Her hands froze as they clutched
the jacket, remembering another chilly night, another jacket draped over
her shoulders….
"You wouldn't think a beach would be so cold," she mused, her voice
so soft Harm almost couldn't hear what she was saying. He began to
wonder if it wasn't so much the cold outside that was making her shiver,
but the cold within.
"It still a little early in the year for it to really have warmed up
yet," he pointed out, trying to distract himself and her by talking about
something inconsequential like the weather. "It only got up into
the sixties today and it's dropping down into the low fifties tonight.
I doubt the water is even warm enough to swim in yet." His voice
trailed off when he couldn't think of anything else to say.
He risked a glance at her. She was clutching the edges of his
jacket, pulling them closed in front of her, trying to ward off the chill.
She looked so lost, he realized. Quietly, he asked, "Can I ask you
something?"
"Of course…." Mac began, before realizing what she was saying.
Time was that Harm wouldn't have had to ask that question, he would have
just asked whatever was on his mind. But you took care of that, didn't
you? You told him on the Admiral's porch that there were questions
that he didn't get to ask. Sadly, she nodded consent. "Go ahead."
Even with her agreement, he hesitated a moment before he continued,
"Why did you come down here?"
"I thought you said that if I needed to talk…." she began, attempting
a teasing tone, but trailing off when it failed miserably.
Fortunately, Harm recognized it as the delaying tactic that it was and
returned with a shrug, "Yeah, well, I guess I was expecting you to call,
not drive three and a half hours to Norfolk." They both laughed a
little, but the sound was bitter and full of regret and they quickly fell
silent.
"Honestly?" she asked, glancing at him. He nodded. She looked
back over the ocean as she blindly fiddled with the engagement ring on
her left hand. "I don't know. Chloe and I were talking and
she said some things, said that I needed to think. After she left,
I got into my car and just started driving. I didn't have any particular
place in mind. I just wanted to get away. Then, before I knew
it, I was just outside of Richmond and telling some state trooper who must
have thought I was driving drunk that I was on my way to Norfolk.
When I was ready to get back on the highway, there was this voice inside
my head telling me to head back north, back to DC. But I couldn't
make myself do it."
"Better?" she echoed. Involuntarily, Harm slid away from her on
the bench. But she wasn't yelling at him. No, this was worse.
Her voice exuded all the warmth of steel. "How is it better to feel
like I'm being torn into a million pieces? How is it better to be
faced with a choice that I didn't even know I was allowed to make because
everyone around me kept making my choices for me?"
"Sorry about anything in particular?" she demanded. "Or is this
just a general sorry, a catch-all to cover any and all situations?"
Harm turned away from her and stared out over the beach. From
this angle, she could still see the torment in his expression, the firm,
tight line of his lips as he struggled against this with everything that
was in him. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just wish there
was some way to make all of this easier."
"Yeah," she concurred, sliding off the bench to sit cross-legged on
the sand. She rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her
folded hands. "Tell me something? How did you do it?
How did you make it look so easy to just watch me walk away?"
"Who said it was easy?" he countered, sitting down beside her.
"I thought we established that a few weeks ago. But maybe I was the
one who didn't think he had a choice. You're the one who, after I
asked you to wait, showed up wearing another man's ring just a few days
later. You asked me how long you were supposed to wait? Well,
was I supposed to be ready just because you were?"
Mac couldn't reply, recognizing the truth of his words.
Maybe she was trying to make something complicated too simple. And
now look where she was – three days away from marrying one man while unable
to stop thinking about another. Idly, she picked up a handful of
sand and watched it fall back to the ground from between her spread fingers.
"I had this dream," she began, not even sure why she was mentioning it.
But she was so scared of losing Harm and she was desperate enough to try
anything to try and figure out how to hang onto their friendship.
Yeah, but could she be satisfied with just that? "I was doing the
presentation on the Somers mutiny and I kept having these weird dreams
about it. I would see Mic as the captain, about to hang the three
mutineers…."
"I can see that," Harm said with a laugh, quieting at a stern glance
from her. "Sorry. Please continue. You saw Mic about
to hang the mutineers and…."
"I never could see the third man's face," she explained quietly.
"I could see the first man – the Secretary's son, the ring leader – and
I could see the second man, but I never could see this third man and it
didn't seem important at first. It never occurred to me that it was
important, because, after all, it was only a dream. But the last
time I had the dream, I finally saw the third man's face and it scared
the hell out of me."
Harm was silent, waiting for her to continue. But when she spoke
again, she changed tactics slightly. "Do you really think we can
do it?" she wondered. "Can we hang onto our friendship in light of
everything that's happened the last few weeks or are we fighting a losing
battle?"
He looked away, scared to answer the question. Or maybe he was
scared of the answer. She pressed on. "So much has happened
in the last few weeks," she continued. "Can we forget about that
and go back to the way things were?"
The question hung in the air between them as he turned back to stare
at her. Both wanted so much to close the distance between them, but
they recognized the perilous slope they were clinging to. Harm tried
to tear his eyes away first, but he couldn't make himself. "What
if….we don't have a choice anymore?" he asked.
"Or maybe it's our last chance to make the right one," she whispered
in reply, unconsciously leaning closer to him. Her tongue darted
out to moisten dry lips and Harm found himself fascinated by the slight
movements her mouth made. He started to reach out a hand to her,
but then let it drop as he realized he was doing.
Mac noticed what he did and nearly reached out grab his hand back, mesmerized
by the memory of his touch. What she wouldn't give to feel that heat
again. Taking a deep breath, she asked a simple question, realizing
the answer would make all the difference in the world. "What do you
want?" she asked quietly.
She held his gaze, watching the internal struggle play out. He
opened his mouth to speak, ready to insist that it was too late, but he
couldn't make the words come out. His earlier words to her echoed
through his mind. 'And how long can this go on before the circumstances
arise when it is just you and me, with nothing and no one around to tell
us no?' He had to stop this before it went that far. Or maybe
it had already gone too far, he realized as he tried again to utter the
words that would slam this door shut between them, maybe forever.
But he couldn't do this.
The look he gave Mac as she picked up one of his hands and held it in
hers tore at her heart. But she held her ground, waiting to hear
his reply. This was far too important to rely on innuendoes and half-spoken
truths, as they had in the past. She needed to hear him say it, whether
his words ended up being her salvation or her damnation.
"You," he whispered as Mac released the breath she hadn't even realized
that she'd been holding. "I'm so tired of pretending that I don't
want you….so tired of pretending that I'm happy that you're marrying Brumby."
"Oh, Harm…." she breathed as he tugged on her hand, drawing her closer.
Before she realized it, she was in the warm circle of his arms, staring
up at the stars overhead he nuzzled against her neck, his lips barely brushing
against rapidly heating skin. She barely noticed as his leather jacket
fell from her shoulders or when he began to push her back onto the sand.
But it echoed like a gunshot in her head when they heard the sound of tires
crunching in gravel just yards away.
They pulled apart and stared at each other, dazed. "We can't…."
Harm began hesitantly, standing as he brushed the sand from his jeans.
She looked up into Harm's concerned gaze, holding her breath again,
waiting for him to make the first move. He studied her for a moment
then nodded slightly, seeming to understand the message in her eyes.
Bending down, he gripped her hand in his and pulled her to her feet before
taking the jacket from her and holding it up for her to slip into.
"Harm?" she asked quietly as she slid her arms through the sleeves, overwhelmed
by his nearness, but afraid to believe.
"Never be sorry," he whispered as he lowered his head, repeating the
words he'd told her earlier that day in the JAG courtyard. She shivered
for reasons that had nothing to do with the chill in the air as he brushed
his lips over her forehead and each of her cheeks. "I'm not."
"I'm not sorry, either," she replied, her words lost as his lips captured
hers. She groaned deep in her throat as she pressed against him,
promising herself that no matter what else happened, she would never be
sorry for these few moments of paradise in his arms.
~*~*~*~
All at once I'm drifting on a lonely sea
Wishing you'd come back to me and that's all that matters now
All at once I'm drifting on a lonely sea
Holding on to memories and it hurts me more than you know
So much more than it shows all at once
That we’ll be back together someday
Tonight I need your sweet caress
Hold me in the darkness
Tonight you calm my restlessness
You relieve my sadness
23 MAY 2001
JAG HEADQUARTERS
NORFOLK, VIRGINIA
"Maybe you should have," he pointed out. "It would have been
better…."
"Mac, I'm sorry…." he began, only to be cut off by her.
Mac stared down at the ground for a moment, resisting the urge for
tears. She should have known it wouldn't last. Once again,
she'd opened herself up to him and had ended up being damned. Holding
back a sigh of frustration, she slowly picked up his jacket and folded
it in half, carefully laying it over her arm. She started to stand,
until she found herself at eye-level with a hand held out to her.