Title: Why We’re So Afraid – JAG Fan Fiction

Author: CBminime

Rating: PG for language and VERY MINOR violence at the end

Summary: An explaination of Boomerang, I redid the scene a bit at the end for the explaination… don’t stalk me, please! I’m only 14! *hides in a corner* This is my FIRST EVER fic, so please go easy! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em. If I did, Harm and Mac would have been locked together in a JAG Asylum shipper cell and forced to confess their feelings or suffer dire consequences. So now you know for sure they aren’t mine.

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After much speculation on Boomerang II regarding why Harm backed away, what they truly meant, both of them being afraid, etc etc, I have finally discovered the true reason as to why the conversation didn’t give us a great shipper ending.

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The light Australian breeze in the harbor was enchanting. God, was she gorgeous. The green strapless dress she wore looked stunning while at the same moment complimented her chocolate-auburn hair and olive skin. If only I could tell her. Her mouth moves and words come out, but I’m barely focused on the conversation. She said something regarding Webb and women and languages. I put together a sentence regarding that topic, and say it with out thinking whom my audience is.

“In any language, what man understands a woman?”

Her eyes take on a playful look, along with her singsong voice. “You’re referring to me.”

Well, my mind was on that vibe, so yeah I probably was. Her stunt at the beach with Rugby was confusing, since I thought she hated the guy. Like I said, ‘The men you pick.’

She continues. “Oh, let me guess. You don’t understand why I went to the beach with Mic.”

Okay, now I know her psychic abilities are real. I’d love to go along with this line of questioning, but some unknown force won’t let me. I don’t know why the hell I’m doing this, but I just changed the subject.

“That opera house is beautiful, isn’t it?” Ugh! Why’d I change the subject!

Mac, however, won’t give up that easily (Note to self: thank her later). “Smashing. So, what bothered you, that I went to the beach with Mic, or that you thought I was topless?”

Both. That’s a stupid ques… HEY! Wait a minute! ‘Thought I was topless?’ So she wasn’t?

“You weren’t???” Crap, voiced my thoughts again, stop it Rabb. Bad Harmy! Sit in timeout! Man, I’m in for it. I know that look in her eyes, the one reserved for Bad Harm. I brace myself for the verbal blow I know is coming.

“Harmon Rabb! You are a PRUDE!” Yeah, I know. But I can’t let her ego go up.

“I am not!” Well that was a flat-out lie and she knows it, but oh well. I continue. “Look, I don’t care if you wanna go topless.” Another lie. I’m getting good at this lying stuff.

“You do if it’s in front of Mic.” Oh, you are so good at stating the obvious, Marine. I care if you go topless in front of anyone; Bugme is a thousand times worse! However, I, the village idiot, have to come up with a slightly rational excuse instead of voicing my true feelings.

“You work with the guy, Mac!” Well you work with me too, but I’m special… wait don’t go there Rabb, that’s your pilot ego talking. “You wouldn’t go topless in front of me, would you?”

Sh*t. Where’d that come from? Blame it on the flyboy ego

The look in her eyes is mixed. Anger, confusion, and something else I can’t, or won’t, put my finger on just yet. I wish I knew what she was feeling.

“Is that a request?”

Wow. No woman would ever react that way if a guy asked that. Something is definitely up between us. Wow. Is this real? I’m sitting here staring into her eyes, those radiant chocolate eyes that are the windows to her soul.

~*~

MAC POV

“This can’t work,” he says.

Wait, I’m confused. He wasn’t supposed to say that.

“Why the hell not? I’m about to pour out my soul to you and now you say it can’t work? You’d better have a d*mn good reason, sailor.”

“Look to your left.”

Well, that was pretty random. What, is Mic there or something? Is that why? That would add to my evil plot, this way…

I suddenly jump back. I have just looked to my left, and what a strange sight. It’s a… a…

(A/N: This is a really good spot for me to split this in two…

But nah, I don’t feel like it.)

A large group of people and a few video cameras.

“What the heck are they doing here? And please don’t say I have a fan club. And who’s the slightly obese guy in the chair there?”

Harm’s face is completely serious. “That’s Donald P. Bellisarius. He’s the reason why we can’t work.”

“Wait, why him? What’s he got to do with OUR relationship?”

“He writes the script. Blame him, not me!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Suddenly, a large mob came ripping around the corner heading straight for DPB. They held giant protest posters that had slogans written on them, such as “Semper Harm and Mac!” and “We Demand More Shipper Scenes!” They tackled DPB to the floor, cuffed him, and took him away into a torture room down below decks (hey it could happen!).

“So, where were we?”

Mac and Harm both did the math in their heads. JAG – DPB = SHIPPER HEAVEN!!!

They both embraced suddenly in a passionate kiss. After a few minutes, both stopped for breath.

“Okay, now that HE’s gone, what’s next?” said Mac.

“You’ll see, Sarah, you’ll see.”

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