The Next Conflicting Phase
Part Five
"�and paper plates. Oh, and you should probably pick up some beer,
too. I imagine you'll want to relax after lifting all that heavy
furniture," Mac looked at Harm with a teasing grin.
Harm raised his eyebrow. "Don't you mean, we? Or is the big bad
marine too weak to carry a couple of measly couches?" he shot back,
before adding, "And no beer."
"I can carry any piece of furniture I choose. However,
someone's got to give you poor squids direction, so I'm afraid I'm
going to be too busy supervising. And just because I don't drink,
doesn't mean everyone else has to abstain, too," she told him.
"That may be, but Mattie's going to be there, too, and I don't want
her to have to deal�" Harm's voice trailed off as they passed out of
the guard's hearing. The young gunnery sergeant shook his head as he
continued his rounds. He'd been at JAG for over three years now, and
he'd seen enough interactions between the Colonel and the Commander
to know that their living together was bound to make life very
interesting, for everyone.
Harm and Mac passed through the doors into Headquarters, but when Mac
started towards the elevators, Harm reached out and grabbed hold of
her arm. She looked at him curiously as he began to lead her to the
stairwell door.
"I just think we could use the extra exercise," he explained
innocently. "Since we're going to be too busy getting everything
ready for the move this weekend, we won't have time for our usual
workouts."
"Mm hmm," Mac said skeptically. She knew he had some ulterior motive
for taking the stairs, but she didn't bother calling him on it.
Mostly because she was pretty sure she knew what that motive was, and
was very much looking forward to it.
She quickly found out she was right; when the door closed behind
them, Harm took only a cursory glance to make sure they were
alone before pressing her up against the wall and drawing her into a
kiss that stole all of the breath from her lungs.
"We bought a house," he murmured happily as he pulled away, leaving
her panting for air, only to trail his lips across her cheek and down
her neck.
"Yes," Mac moaned breathlessly as she tilted her head to give him
more room to maneuver. She thought about stopping him; the first
thing they had agreed on when Harm came back was that they would
maintain a professional distance while they were at work. But she
found it impossible to worry about professionalism when he was doing
such deliciously evil things to her neck with that remarkable mouth
of his.
For his part, Harm had stopped thinking about professionalism right
around the time he'd taken hold of the keys to their new house. For
some reason, knowing that he was going to spend the rest of his life
going home with Sarah Mackenzie had produced a wave of desire that
was both completely unexpected, and utterly overwhelming. It had
taken all of his willpower just to wait until they reached this semi-
secluded location. Still, they were at work and in uniform, so he
knew he had to get himself under some kind of control before someone
walked in and caught them. After all, he really didn't want to have
to look for another new job this year.
Lifting his head from her neck, he rested his forehead against hers
and said softly, "It's a good house."
"A wonderful house," Mac agreed. She flashed him a brilliant
smile. "Everything's finally coming together," she said happily, and
then leaned up to brush her lips against his cheek and whisper, "I
love you."
"I love you, too," Harm answered, sliding his arms around her waist
and holding her close. He rubbed his cheek against her hair. "Thank
you."
She pulled away and looked up at him. "For what?" she asked
curiously.
"For not giving up on me." He reached up and cupped her face in his
hands, and Mac could see the faintest sheen in his eyes when he added
sincerely, "For making me happier than I ever thought I could be."
Mac's heart filled at both his words and the love she saw reflected
in his eyes. "You're welcome," she told him, covering his hands with
her own. She smiled softly, "And it works both ways, you know."
"I know." Deciding to tempt fate one last time before they headed
upstairs, he drew her to him for one last long, gentle kiss.
"Mm," he murmured happily as he pulled away, gratified when Mac let
out a small moan of disapproval. "What do you say we tell the
Admiral that we have clients to interview, and then sneak over and go
christen our new house properly?"
"Sounds tempting," she allowed with a smile, "but there's a few
problems with your plan, sailor."
He frowned and asked somewhat petulantly, "Like what?"
"Like the fact that the Admiral knows my interviews are set for
tomorrow afternoon," she reminded him with an indulgent grin, "And
the fact that you have a deposition in exactly twenty-two minutes.
And that I have one at 1600, which is why you are going to the
store after work. And, if you'd looked at number four on the grocery
list I gave you, you'd see the last and most important problem with
your plan."
"Why?" He asked as he pulled the list from his pocket. He scanned it
and asked, "What's number-oh."
Harm's voice trailed off when he reached number four. Tampons.
Damn. Well, that sucked. Not because of the effect it would have on
their extra-curricular activities; he'd gotten to be an expert in
improvising when necessary. No, his unhappiness stemmed from the
fact that he was going to have to walk into the feminine hygiene
aisle of the supermarket, where he would end up standing there
looking like an idiot for at least five minutes trying to find
exactly the right box, until some nice but condescending woman took
pity on him and picked out what he needed in about ten seconds. He
sighed. He loved Mac, but this was one part of their relationship
that he could very happily do without.
Mac watched Harm's face fall as he realized what his trip to the
store meant, and bit down on her lower lip to keep from laughing.
She knew how much he hated doing this for her, and how embarrassing
it was for him, but he just looked so cute standing there with that
forlorn, exasperated look on his face. Forcing back a smile, she
asked, "Harm, do I need to go to the store myself?"
"No," he answered, heaving a large melodramatic sigh. "You're going
to be running late as it is. I'll do it." He gave her his most
pitiful pout. "But you'll owe me."
She smiled indulgently at him. "I promise I'll make it up to you,"
she said, patting his cheek affectionately. She pushed herself off
of the wall and started up the stairs. "Come on, flyboy. Only
nineteen minutes `til your deposition."
"You're never going to tell me how you do that, are you?" he asked
grumpily, still pouting over his impending trip to the store. He
started up the stairs, quickly moving a step ahead of her so that he
would reach the door first and be able to open it for her.
"Nope," she replied cheerfully, subtly slowing up to make it easier
for him to pass. She knew exactly what he was doing and, although
she would never admit it, she loved it. At least, when no one else
was around she did. She was a marine, after all, and she had a
reputation to maintain. She smiled at him as she passed through the
open door and into the hallway leading to the bullpen.
"I love you," she murmured as she slid by him, giving his arm a quick
squeeze as she headed towards her office. Without bothering to make
sure they were alone, she called back over her shoulder, "And, Harm?
Make sure you get the super absorbent, okay? The blue box, not the
pink. And don't forget the ice cream."
"Yes, dear," he responded sarcastically. He started to head off to
his own office, muttering about the things he had to do for her, when
he heard a muffled laugh from behind him. Harm groaned, knowing that
someone must have overheard their conversation. Turning slowly, he
prayed that he outranked whoever it was so that he could order them
to forget everything he�d just heard.
His prayers went unheeded, however, as he finished his turn and came
face to face with Sturgis, leaning against the wall next to the
stairwell door, a wide smirk on his face.
"Not a word, bubblehead," Harm warned quickly, knowing that it was
useless. Sturgis was going to milk this for years.
"Did I say anything?" Sturgis asked innocently, his hands out in
protest. He laughed when Harm just turned with a scowl and stalked
to his office. Unwilling to let this opportunity to needle his old
friend pass him by, he followed him down the hall.
"So, is this a regular thing for you? Picking up Mac's...personal
items from the store?" he asked with a grin, leaning against the
doorway.
"What part of `not a word' didn't you grasp, Commander?" Harm glared
balefully at Sturgis as he flopped down behind his desk. Sturgis
snickered, and Harm made a mental note to come up with some hideously
painful retribution for Mac for putting him in this position, even as
he came up with a viable punishment for Sturgis.
Shaking his head, Harm leaned back in his chair and smirked. "You
know what, Sturgis? You keep talking, and not only will I make sure
you pick up every last piece of heavy furniture we own on Saturday; I
will leave you alone to deal with Drill Sergeant Mackenzie when it
comes time to `arrange' everything to her satisfaction. How does
that sound?"
"Sounds like I might be developing some forty-eight hour virus
Friday," Sturgis countered easily, and watched smugly as a panicked
look passed over Harm's face. He decided it was time to give his old
friend a break. "Relax, Rabb. I promised her I'd be there, and I'll
be there."
"You better," Harm threatened only half-jokingly. He still
remembered what Mac was like when they helped Bud and Harriet move,
and he was determined not to face that alone. He frowned then, as he
realized for the first time that he was asking Bud to spend the
weekend in the company of a man who was not exactly his biggest fan.
Looking over to where Sturgis was still propped up against his
doorway, he debated whether or not to ruin the other man's rare good
mood by bringing up the subject to him. Fortunately, Sturgis guessed
what was going through Harm's mind and saved him the trouble.
"I promise to be on my best behavior, so you don't have to worry,"
Sturgis promised solemnly. Harm started to protest that he wasn't
worried, but Sturgis held up his hand to stop him. "Look, I know
that I've been...difficult. And I'm not going to deny that I'm not
the happiest person to be around these days. But I'm not going to
ruin this for you guys. You and Mac, more than anyone I know,
deserve a little happiness."
"Everyone deserves a little happiness," Harm countered quietly,
hoping that Sturgis would both understand what he was trying to say
and that he would believe it. But Sturgis only shrugged and shook
his head.
"I've got to get back to work," he said, ignoring Harm's comment and
the unspoken offer of help that went with it. He straightened up,
tugging on his uniform jacket, and headed back to his office without
another word.
Harm sighed. Every time he thought that Sturgis was working his way
out of this funk that he was in, something would happen that would
send him sliding right back down again. And despite what he'd told
Mac about just being there for him when he was ready, he felt just as
helpless as she did, and hated it just as much. He wanted to see his
friend happy again, and it didn't look like that would be happening
anytime soon.
"Commander Rabb?" came a hesitant young voice at the door. Harm
looked up to see a nervous young Ensign standing at attention, and
remembered the deposition he had scheduled. He waved the young man
inside.
"At ease, Ensign Ryan. Come in and have a seat," he said, gesturing
to the chair in front of his desk. Ryan stepped in quickly and sat
down, ramrod straight, in his chair. Harm tried to put the younger
man at ease. "You can relax, Ensign. You're not in any trouble. I
just need you to tell me what you saw on deck the night of the
accident."
"Yes, sir. I understand, sir," Ryan answered, as Harm began digging
in his desk for a pen. "But before we get started on my statement,
I'm supposed to give you a message, sir."
Startled, Harm looked back up and asked curiously, "What message is
that, Ensign?"
"It's from a Commander Turner, sir," Ryan told him, and Harm tensed
warily, wondering what Sturgis was up to. Oblivious to the change in
Harm's demeanor, the ensign continued earnestly, "I bumped into him
in the hallway, and he told me to remind you that it was the blue
box, not the pink one, sir."
He looked at Harm in confusion. "Does that mean something to you,
sir?"
"Unfortunately, Ensign, it does," Harm responded dryly, ignoring the
befuddled look on Ryan's face. It meant that the good Commander
would be spending a lot of quality moving time with Mac this
weekend. It also meant that the old Sturgis might be a little closer
to making a comeback than he'd thought. Harm smiled; things were
definitely looking up.
The boxes, being braced against the wall, wobbled a little but stayed
upright. Harm, being braced against the boxes that were braced
against the wall, wobbled more than a little but also stayed upright,
as did two of the three bags in his arms. The third unfortunate bag,
however, slipped from his grasp and tumbled to the floor; breaking
open the box of Mac's beloved Cocoa Puffs and scattering the contents
across the entire living room.
Shit Harm swore, looking down at the sea of cereal. Now he
was going to have to find the broom and the dustpan and spend the
next twenty minutes cleaning up this mess, which killed any chance he
had of joining Mac in the shower. Swearing again, he secured his
hold on the remaining bags and stomped into the kitchen, perversely
delighted at the sound of the cereal crunching beneath his feet.
He set the bags on the nearest counter and began to remove and
separate the contents, quickly putting away the perishables and
leaving the rest on the counter. He then went back to the third bag,
pulled out everything but the empty cereal box, and put that away as
well. Just as he was about to pick up the broom and start the Great
Cocoa Puff hunt, he heard the water cut off in the bathroom, and knew
that Mac's shower was over. He immediately stopped and set the broom
back in the closet. The floor could wait, he decided, as he snatched
the detestable blue box from its place on the kitchen table and
hurried towards the bathroom.
By the time he reached the door, Mac had already propped it open
enough to let some of the steam escape. Pushing it open a bit
farther, he found her standing in front of the mirror in nothing but
her panties She had both arms raised above her head and was staring
intently at her reflection, doing her monthly breast self-exam.
Harm watched her, transfixed by the sheer wonder of her. Her hair
was slicked back, and the occasional drop of water still fell from
the ends to roll down the long, graceful line of her back. He took
in the slim, toned muscles of her arms and legs. And her dusky skin,
still damp from the shower, glowed, highlighting each generous
curve. Not even the thin jagged scar on her side, or the smaller one
on her thigh, could detract from her beauty.
Caught up in his admiration of her, he didn't notice when her arms
fell to her side, and she turned to face him. It was only when she
stepped forward and took the box from his hands with a
murmured `thank you', that he realized how completely he'd been
focused on her body. She smiled knowingly at him, and he felt the
red flush of embarrassment creep up his face.
"I remember the first time you watched me like this." Mac laughed
when she realized he was blushing. She tossed the box onto the
counter and then leaned her hip against it. "Your face turned red
then, too."
Harm glared at her even as his face reddened some more. He tried to
defend himself.
"Well, it was the first time I'd seen a woman do that," he pointed
out in indignation. "And it was definitely the first time one had
asked me if I wanted to help."
"You know, I find it hard to believe that of all the many women in
your life, none of them ever did a breast exam before," Mac told him
skeptically.
"First of all, there haven't been that many women in my life,"
Harm pointed out, wondering why everyone always thought that he was
such a playboy. He continued, "Second of all, I didn't say they
didn't do one; I said I hadn't seen it. Renee always locked herself
in the bathroom, and the one time I asked Jordan about it, she
psychoanalyzed me until I felt like a pervert."
"Well, that's what you get for dating a shrink," Mac told him. She
smiled reassuringly at him. "She was probably just surprised that
you were curious. Most guys avoid women like the plague when it
comes to `that time of the month'."
"You didn't seem surprised," he pointed out. "Didn't you think it
was weird?"
"Not as weird as Mic's fascination with watching me paint my
toenails," she said with an amused shake of her head. "I never did
understand that. I mean, having a guy wanting to stare at me while I
touch my breasts kind of makes sense. But watching me putting nail
polish on my toes? I don't get that."
Harm grinned. He knew exactly why a toenail painting Mac was so
appealing. "It's the lip," he told her helpfully.
"Huh?" Mac asked, totally confused. What did her lip have to do with
her toes?
"Your lower lip," Harm explained matter-of-factly. "When you're
painting your toenails, you get this intense look on your face, and
then you start chewing on your lower lip. It's really cute, and kind
of sexy. You do it when you're checking your breasts, too."
"Really? And you know this how?" Mac asked archly. "I didn't know
you were paying enough attention to my face to notice."
"Hey, I know how to multi-task," he protested, waggling his eyebrows
suggestively as he pointedly shifted his gaze from her face to her
chest and then back again.
"You're terrible," she laughed, slapping him lightly on the arm and
giving him a gentle shove towards the bedroom. "Go lie down and wait
for me; I'll be out in a minute."
"Aye, aye, ma'am," he said with a playful salute, before turning and
walking out of the bathroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. As
Mac watched him pull the door shut behind him, she wondered again
what she had ever done to deserve a man like Harmon Rabb.
When she had asked Harm that first time he'd watched her if he wanted
to help, it had been a diversion; a way to ease the awkwardness and
to let him know that she was feeling amorous. She had only mentioned
what her doctor said about how helpful it was to have your partner
participate because he had looked so embarrassed about his own
curiosity; she thought it would make him feel better to know that her
doctor would sanction, even applaud, a thorough exploration of her
chest. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that he would take
her so seriously about it. She shook her head ruefully; she should
have known better. When it came to her health and well-being, Harm
took everything seriously.
It had taken every ounce of willpower she possessed not to burst into
tears that first night, to just hold him and never let go. The way
he'd tripped over his words as he asked her what he was supposed to
look for, how he was supposed to touch her. The way his brows
knitted together, and his eyes narrowed intently as he concentrated
on learning every inch, every fiber of her breasts. It had taken him
the better part of an hour, she recalled fondly, as he had frequently
taken her fingers in his and pressed in some spot or another, asking
her if that was the way it normally felt. And when he had finished,
he had looked at her with such love and pride and relief, that she
could do nothing except pull him to her and love him with everything
she had. It was the most intimate experience of her life, with Harm
or any other man. No one had ever cared for her like that, had ever
loved her enough to take such care with her, and it had convinced her
of his love in a way that nothing else could.
"Mac?" Harm's voice came drifting in from the bedroom, startling her
and drawing her back to the here and now. Brushing away the
memories, she quickly lifted her arms and cursorily finished her
exam. Slipping into her robe, she turned out the bathroom lights and
headed out to where Harm was sprawled across her bed wearing nothing
but boxers and a flyboy grin.
"Get lost in there, marine?" He asked archly, patting the bed next to
him and beckoning her to join him.
She smiled and sat down to the right of him. "Lost in thought,
maybe," she told him as she slid onto her back, letting her gaze
drift to the ceiling.
"What were you thinking about?" Harm asked somewhat distractedly,
more interested in the way the tie to her robe had loosened when she
rolled, leaving a tantalizing bit of skin uncovered, than he was with
the answer to his question.
"Honestly?" Mac turned to face him, propping herself up on one arm
and lifting the other to stroke his cheek. "I was thinking about how
well you take care of me."
Harm's face reddened even as his eyes softened. Even though they had
been together for a while now, moments like these, when Mac was soft
and vulnerable and sincere, made him a little uncomfortable. Not
because she was showing him her vulnerability, but because he knew he
was the only one she'd ever really shown it to. It was both a gift
and an enormous responsibility, and he was still unsure of how to
handle that.
"Why, because I brave the feminine hygiene aisle at the supermarket
on your behalf?" he asked lightly, falling back on his old habit of
joking his way out of an uncomfortable moment.
She laughed a little, but didn't let him off the hook. "That's one
of the reasons, yeah. This," she added seriously, gesturing between
them, "is another. Most men wouldn't have taken me seriously when I
asked if they wanted to help. They would have just used it as an
excuse for sex."
"I'm not most men," he responded, and there wasn't even a hint of
laughter in his voice this time. He had spent too long trying to
convince her that he was different from the other men in her life to
make jokes about it now.
"I know. It's one of the reasons I love you," she told him, and was
rewarded with a long, passionate kiss.
"One of the reasons, huh?" Harm slid his hand into the gap of her
robe and began rubbing the soft skin of her stomach. "Why don't you
tell me what the others are?"
"I'd rather show you," she told him. She untied the robe and leaned
up to slip it off of her shoulders. When she was done, she grabbed
his hand and slid it up her ribcage to the underside of her breast,
and then whispered huskily, "Why don't you hurry up and finish your
part of the exam, and then we can really play doctor?"
"I like the way you think, marine. Lean back," he told her with a
soft smile, even as he gently pushed her onto her back. She raised
her arm above her head, shifting until she was in the correct
position. She couldn't help the shiver of desire that coursed
through her at his first touch, but she pushed it aside as he moved
his hand gently over her breast. She wanted to revel in their
intimacy first; desire would come later. She closed her eyes and let
herself get lost in the sensations.
Harm watched her eyes flutter closed with enormous relief. It was
nearly impossible to focus on his task when she looked at him like
that, her eyes brimming with love and gratitude and desire. And it
was important to him that he take this seriously, that he never
become one of those men who would use her offer as an excuse for
sex. Although he laughed and joked and teased, he never took this
exam, or his part in it, lightly. Not when her health was at stake.
When he finished with the first half of the exam, Harm got up on his
knees and started to shift over to Mac's other side. Looking down
and realizing that he was straddling her, he paused momentarily so
that he could get a handle on the quick bolt of desire that washed
through him. Then he slid down and started the process over. Trying
to distract himself from any lustful thoughts, he decided to find
some nice, neutral topic for them to discuss.
"What time did you want to go over to my apartment tomorrow?" Harm
asked casually, as his fingers started moving again. He figured that
talk of the move and all its requisite packing would keep his mind
focused.
"I was thinking around 1900. That would give us time to change and
grab some takeout," she responded, opening her eyes to see what he
thought of her decision.
"Sounds good," he agreed. "Do you want pizza or-"?
Both Harm's words and his hand stopped abruptly, and Mac quickly
focused her full attention on him. "Harm," she asked cautiously, "Is
something wrong?"
Harm heard Mac's voice from far away, and he could tell from her tone
that she was asking him a question, but he couldn't focus enough to
hear the words. He couldn't focus on anything except the one thought
running in a constant loop in his head.
I found something
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down and think
logically. Maybe I imagined it, he rationalized to himself.
He reached out and ran his fingers over the spot he had just examined
and couldn't feel anything. But just as he was about to breathe a
sigh of relief, he moved his hand backwards and there it was again,
that something. Something that wasn't there before, something small
and hard and-
Unable to complete the thought, he stopped his hand and lifted his
head to meet Mac's concerned gaze. "Harm, what's the matter?" she
asked worriedly as she took in his face, suddenly drained of color.
She saw a sheen of sweat break out across his forehead and wondered
for one brief, terrifying moment if he was having a heart attack.
Later, she would look back on this moment and marvel at the fact that
despite what he had just been doing, she had never even considered
the most obvious answer for what was upsetting him. Not until he
reached out with a shaky hand and grasped hold of her fingers,
placing them where his had just been. Then, in an instant, she knew
exactly what was wrong, and she instinctively tried to pull her hand
from underneath his. But Harm didn't let go; he just forced her
fingers over that one spot.
"Do..." Harm's voice trailed off as his throat closed up. He took a
deep breath and forced himself to try again, "Do you feel that?" he
managed to get out in a choked whisper.
It was small, barely detectable and easily overlooked. And she would
have overlooked it, had overlooked it. But now that he'd found it,
now that he'd pointed it out to her, it was impossible to ignore.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible, even to herself, as
she pressed her hand against the small lump in her breast.
December 1, 2003
JAG Headquarters
1300 EST
When Harm and Mac returned from lunch that day, there wasn't a single
person on the grounds that didn't notice them. Although the day was
cold and wet and miserable, they strolled across the parking lot as
if it was the Tidal Basin in the spring, with the cherry blossoms in
full bloom. Smiling and laughing, they were standing as close as
they could to each other, and would most certainly have been holding
hands had they not been in uniform. As they passed by one of the
Marine guards walking the grounds, he managed to hear snippets of
their conversation.
December 1, 2003
Mac's Apartment
1920 EST
"Mac?" Harm called out as he knocked on the door for the third time.
He knew she was home; he had called not fifteen minutes ago from the
supermarket. `She must be in the shower,' he thought with a sigh of
resignation, placing the groceries on the floor and digging out his
keys. He unlocked the door and propped it open with his foot before
gathering the bags back into his arms and hurrying to the kitchen.
Unfortunately, he'd forgotten the stacks of boxes piled haphazardly
throughout the apartment. He managed to pass the first two without
any problems, but had a near miss with a third, which threw him off-
balance and caused him to collide into the fourth with a loud thump.