The Next Conflicting Phase
Part Seven
Mac stepped outside just as the clouds opened and a freezing rain
started falling heavily around her. She thought for the briefest
moment that she should go back inside and wait for the storm to ease,
but the idea of spending any more time within those cold, sterile
hospital walls made her stomach turn. Without another moment's
hesitation, she turned and sprinted as fast as she could across the
parking lot to her car. By the time she reached her `vette she was
drenched; her coat had offered little protection against the wind and
rain. Sliding quickly into the driver's seat, she locked the doors
and started the car, turning the heat up full blast. Letting it
idle, she reached into the back for her workout bag and dug through
it until she found a towel. She slid out of her jacket and dried
herself off as best she could before tossing the towel onto the seat
beside her. Then she pulled her phone out of her purse and started
to plug it into the car charger; but when she turned it on she
noticed the flashing voice mail icon, and knew it could only be from
Harm.
Mac sighed. Although she had tried more than once that morning to
pull him aside to talk, he managed to successfully avoid her, finally
dragging Bud off to a conference room so that they could work out
their strategy in private. He hadn't even come to see if she'd left,
to wish her good luck. She knew he was smarting about being left
behind. She was also willing to bet that he had avoided her more out
of guilt than anger, and that the guilt had pushed him to overcome
his pride and try to call her. Looking at the time stamp, she saw
that the message had been left just a couple of minutes after she'd
entered the hospital and turned off her phone. She bit her lip,
debating whether to listen to it here or wait until she got home. In
the end, she decided it wouldn't be fair to leave him hanging about
her appointment, no matter how annoyed with him she might be.
With another large sigh, she punched in her code and listened to her
message. Hey, Mac. It's me. I wanted to call and wish you luck,
but you must already be inside. His voice was soft and unsure,
and Mac felt a little twist in her stomach. So, um, if you could
just call me when you get out. I mean, I'll be in court, but if you
could call and leave me a message to let me know how it went, I'd
appreciate it. I'll talk to you later. I'm sorry. Love you.
And with that, the message ended, taking with it the last of Mac's
anger. She had told him last night that she didn't know how she was
supposed to deal with all of this; the truth was that neither one of
them had any idea what was going to happen, nor how they would handle
it. All they could really do was try and handle it together. And
the first step would be for Mac to leave the message Harm requested.
She didn't want to go into details over the phone, especially about
her next appointment, but she could at least let him know that things
were okay. She quickly dialed his cell, knowing he would check it as
soon as he left court.
"Hey, it's me," she said softly, "I just got your message. The
appointment went fine, I guess. The office was cold and I hate those
stupid paper shirts. And I have another appointment scheduled, but
I'll talk to you more about it when you get home." Suddenly, the
desire to get away from the hospital and all that it represented grew
with every word she spoke, so she rushed through the rest of the
message. "Don't forget we're at your apartment tonight to finish
packing. I'll see you when you get there. I, um, I hope court's
going well. Love you."
Hanging up the phone, she quickly put her car in gear and peeled out
of the parking lot, heading towards Harm's apartment with the devil
on her heels.
Startled, Mac looked up and saw Harm standing over her, smirking
slightly. Blushing, she fixed her gaze back on the frame in her
hands before mumbling a quiet hello.
"Hi," he answered, placing his briefcase and cover by the door
before heading into the bedroom to change. Unbuttoning his uniform
jacket, he glanced over and saw her stand up just long enough to turn
off the stereo before settling back on the floor to finish wrapping
the frame. As he began to hang up his uniform, he wondered what to
do. Although she didn't seem to be angry with him anymore, he knew
that he still needed to apologize face to face. Still, it wouldn't
hurt to feel out her mood a little. With that in mind, he decided to
try a little small talk. "How long have you been here?"
"Seventy-two minutes," she told him as she placed the frame in the
box beside her. She pushed the flaps closed with one hand and
reached out with the other to grab hold of the packing tape. It
wasn't where she thought it was, so she had to let go of the box and
lean behind her to pick it up. When she turned back around, Harm was
kneeling on the other side of the box in jeans and an old sweatshirt,
holding the flaps closed for her. She gave him a small
smile. "Thanks."
"You're welcome. Have you been packing this whole time?" he asked,
trying to keep the conversation going.
She nodded, pulling out a piece of tape. "We still have a lot to get
done for the move, and we don't have time to waste. I left you a
message."
"Yeah, I got it. Thanks," he told her. He took the tape from her
and placed it on his side of the box, pressing it down before handing
the roll back to her. As he moved his hands back, he admitted
quietly, "I, um...I wasn't sure you'd want to see me right now."
Without looking up, she replied just as quietly, "If I didn't want
to see you, I wouldn't have spent all morning trying to talk to you."
Harm reached out and placed his hands over hers. "I'm sorry," he
said sincerely, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. "I completely
overreacted today, and I am so sorry."
"I know," she whispered, turning her hands over and interlacing their
fingers. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have lost my temper, and I
should have done a better job of explaining myself."
"Kind of hard when I wouldn't let you finish a sentence," Harm
countered. He knew that she was trying to let him off the hook, but
he wasn't going to let her. He hadn't given her a chance this
morning, and they both knew it.
"Will you let me now?" she asked, biting her lip as she
waited for his response.
"Yes," he told her firmly. Releasing her hands long enough to stand and push the box out of the way, he reached down and helped her to her feet
before leading them over to the couch. When they were seated next to
each other, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Ignoring the
butterflies in his stomach, he asked calmly, "What did the doctor
say, Mac?"
Mac took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts before saying, "She
examined me, and confirmed that there was a lump in my breast. She
doesn't think it's anything," she hastened to reassure
him, "something like seventy percent of lumps end up being benign,
but we still have to make sure."
"Of course," he agreed quickly, and felt a little of his tension ease
at the positive statistic. Still, he would feel even better if he
knew exactly what was going on. "How do they do that? You mentioned
something about a test in your message."
"A biopsy," she confirmed, shifting around so she could see his
face, "it's called a fine needle aspiration."
"Surgery?" Harm asked sharply, his anxiety rising again.
"No, no surgery," she told him. "It's actually pretty much like it
sounds. They take a long, skinny needle and stick it inside the
lump, pull out some cells to test, and it's done. In and out in less
than an hour."
Harm nodded, breathing a little sigh of relief. The thought of Mac
in a hospital bed brought back too many memories of this summer, when
he had come so close to losing her. "And how long until they know
something?"
"She said it normally takes about three days, but things are backed
up, so it could take a little longer," she said with an annoyed roll
of her eyes. She shrugged. "But definitely no more than five days."
"Five days," Harm snorted derisively. Of course it would take longer
than normal; it was, after all, a military operation. Which brought
up another question. "How soon before you get an appointment?"
"I already have one actually." Harm was so surprised, and so
relieved with that bit of news that he didn't catch the hesitant
note in Mac's voice.
"That's great!" he enthused, "Don't want to wait any longer than
necessary, right?" When she didn't answer, he looked at her in
confusion. He frowned as he watched Mac's gaze drop to her
lap. "Mac, what's the matter?"
She shook her head. "Nothing, it's just..." she hesitated as she
tried to decide how to tell him. Finally she just decided to blurt
it out. "I made the appointment for Friday at 1600."
Harm did a quick mental check of his calendar, and didn't like what
he saw. "Friday? But I'll be in court!"
"I know, but I couldn't help it," she told him helplessly. She
looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "I tried to get a
different time, Harm, but the next one available would have been next
Thursday. That's an extra week, and I don't think I can wait that
long. I'm sorry."
"Don't," he told her quickly, trying to shake off his
frustration. "Don't be sorry, Mac. Of course you can't wait that
long. I can't either."
"So you're not angry with me?" Mac asked hesitantly, nervously
reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear.
"No! Of course not!" Harm exclaimed forcefully. Sliding his arms
around her waist, he dragged her onto his lap. She immediately
wrapped her arms around him, and for a long moment they just sat
there, taking comfort in each other. Finally Harm pressed a kiss to
her hair and said softly, "Mac, I'm not angry with you. I wasn't
this morning, either. Not really," he told her, trying to find a way
to explain his actions. "I knew you were right. I was just so
frustrated. And I felt so helpless. I don't know how to explain-"
"You don't have to, Harm. I understand," she cut him off. She
leaned her head on his chest. "It's hard to think of someone you
care about in pain while you're locked away, unable to help them.
Believe me, I know."
"I know you do," he whispered, knowing she was remembering what Webb
had gone through in Paraguay at Sadik's hands. What she had almost
gone through herself. He hugged her closer, trying to shield them
both from the terrible memories of that time. After a moment, he
slid a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. "There's
a difference, though, Mac. I'm not locked away. I'm sure if I
explain to the Admiral, he'll let me take the time-"
"No." Her answer was immediate and absolute. "Absolutely not,
Harm. You're not saying anything to the Admiral or anyone else."
"Why on earth not?" he asked, startled by the intensity and
determination in her gaze.
"Because I don't want them to know," she responded simply, her eyes
never leaving his. "Harm, this past year has been so hard, on all of
us. And now that things are finally starting to get back to normal,
I don't want to shake things up again."
Harm sighed. "Mac, don't do this," he pleaded with her, "Don't run
away from everyone again."
"I'm not. I promise, I'm not," she swore, willing him to see the
truth in her eyes. "If it turns out that there's something there,
then I'll tell the Admiral and the others. But I'm not going to
worry them if I don't have to," she explained. "It's bad enough that
we're going to spend the next week on edge. Why make everyone else
suffer, probably needlessly, with us?"
He nodded. She was right; it didn't make much sense to tell them
when all they could do was wait and worry. But he wasn't completely
satisfied with her decision, either. "How are you going to get the
time without telling the Admiral?"
"I've already got it, remember?" She slid one of her arms away from
him and gestured to the sea of boxes. "He agreed to let me secure
early so that I could have extra time to get ready for the move. I
leave at 1100. I'll go home, get some things done at the house, and
then drive over to Bethesda."
And that, Harm thought, was where his dissatisfaction lay. It was
bad enough that she'd have to go through the biopsy alone. He'd be
damned if she was going to make the drive there and back by herself.
"I think you should take a cab," he told her, and gave himself a
little pat on the back for sounding so calm and reasonable. And for
not blurting out his first thought, which went something along the
lines of `You WILL take a cab!' and would have most likely landed
him on the floor begging for mercy.
Mac wasn't as impressed with his restraint. "A cab?" she asked
incredulously. "Do you know how expensive that is?"
"Not as expensive as it would be to fix your car if you get into an
accident trying to drive home following your procedure," he
argued. "You take a cab there, and I'll pick you up."
"Harm, it's not like they're putting me under or anything," she said
exasperatedly, and fought the urge to roll her eyes. "The only thing
they're going to numb is my breast, and I don't use that to drive."
"It could make you sore. Something could happen," Harm countered
stubbornly, and before she could think up another argument, he took
hold of her free hand and placed it against his chest. "Mac,
please. Just humor me on this, okay? It's going to be hard enough
being left behind at JAG while you're having this done. Please just
take a cab to the hospital, and let me pick you up."
"Harm-" Mac's protest died with a small sigh when she saw the
pleading look in his eyes. His plan, while more expensive and time
consuming and really not necessary, gave him something to do,
something that would stave off those feelings of helplessness. And
that made it worth the trouble.
"All right. We'll do it your way," she finally agreed, and was
rewarded with a gentle kiss.
"Thank you," Harm murmured against her lips. He considered extending
the kiss indefinitely, but he wasn't sure if there were still things
left to discuss. "So, is there anything else the doctor told you
that I need to know?"
"I don't think so. She gave me a few things for us to read when we
get a chance," she told him, gesturing to the pamphlets on the coffee
table. "Oh, and I told her you might have some questions and she
said you could call her and she'd be happy to talk to you."
"Thanks," he said sincerely. He was grateful that she was trying
hard not to shut him out. Right now, though, trying to process
anything else was the last thing he wanted. "Do you, um, do you mind
if we read these later though? I'm on overload right now, and I
don't think I'll be able to process this stuff until later."
"That's fine," she answered quickly, giving him a small, relieved
smile. "I feel the same way, actually."
Harm smiled back at her, happy that they were once again on the same
page. "So," he asked as he ran one hand up and down her back,
wondering idly if he could resume the kissing portion of the
program, "I guess that means we should start tackling this, huh?"
Unfortunately for him, Mac had other ideas. "Okay," she agreed,
sliding off of his lap. She headed over to the phone. "But I'm
hungry, so let's order something to eat first."
Harm rolled his eyes. He should have known. "Of course," he said
sarcastically, "What was I thinking?"
"Shut up, squid," Mac said, glaring at him from across the room
before playfully sticking her tongue out at him. Instead of
responding in kind, Mac could see him decide to take her gesture as
an invitation, and she quickly darted around the kitchen counter to
head him off. He gave her a pitiful frown, but she just ignored it
and ordered them a pizza. Sighing in defeat, Harm moved to the
bedroom to pack up the last of his clothes.
They didn't bother to stop packing when the pizza arrived; they just
grabbed paper plates and took them back to their respective
positions, and for the rest of the night they packed and ate in
companionable silence. It wasn't until Mac had finished wrapping the
last of Harm's glasses that she realized how late it was; it was a
good thing they'd decided to stay the night here.
"Harm," she called out from her perch on the kitchen counter, "it's
2330, and we both have court in the morning. Time for bed."
"Hmm?" he asked absently, poking his head around a pile of boxes near
the door. He glanced instinctively at his watch. It was late, and
he was tired. Still, packing was doing wonders keeping his mind off
of his worries, so he told her to go ahead while he finished up this
last box.
Mac wasn't buying it. She knew him too well, and she knew that if
she didn't say something they would have a repeat of last night. And
she wasn't about to sleep alone again.
"Harm, you're exhausted," she pointed out reasonably. "Not to
mention the fact that your back and neck can't take another night of
this."
He waved off her concern. "I'm okay, Mac."
"No you're not," she argued, walking over to him. She knelt down
behind him and started running her hands soothingly along his
back. "But if you come into the bedroom, I'll give you a nice long
massage and you will be."
When Harm didn't budge, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and
whispered against his ear, "Harm, please. Don't make me go to bed
alone."
Unable to resist her pleading tone, he nodded and let her pull him to
his feet and into the bedroom. She nudged him towards the bed with
instructions to strip down to his boxers, and then headed to the
bathroom to change. By the time she came out wearing nothing more
than one of his old t-shirts and a pair of panties, Harm was lying
face down on the bed, trying to keep his eyes open.
He was exhausted. The events of the past twenty-four hours had
finally caught up with him, and now he wanted nothing more than to
sleep. Unfortunately, his physical fatigue was not enough to
counteract the knot that was once again taking up residence in his
gut. He tried to resist it, but by the time Mac had eased herself
onto the bed, he was tenser than ever.
Mac straddled his thighs, resting her weight on her heels, and began
to slowly run her palms up and down his back. As she felt his
muscles start to relax a little, she began to knead them, working
away all of his tension and worries. And it wasn't long before Harm
began to drift to that hazy place between waking and dreaming. But
just as he was about to fall asleep, he felt a change in Mac's
movements.
Leaning forward and bracing her hands on either side of him, Mac
began to trail little butterfly kisses down his back. She knew she
shouldn't, knew she was taking the chance that she would arouse him
and delay him the rest he so desperately needed, but she couldn't
help herself. She needed to feel him, needed to feel their
connection and erase the memory of the fear and loneliness of last
night and this morning. So she kept pressing those soft kisses
against his bare skin, until Harm finally slid onto his back and
tangled his fingers in her hair as he pulled her down for a
passionate kiss.
By the time the kiss was over, he had pulled her shirt halfway over
her head, and she was frantically trying to get him out of his
boxers. And then there was nothing but the touch of skin on skin,
and they were making love as if it was their first, or their last,
time. It was passionate, and it was desperate, and it was filled
with such wild tenderness that she couldn't help the tears that fell
as they came apart in each other's arms.
And when it was over, Harm wrapped his arms around her and laid his
head on her chest, needing the reassurance he heard in the wild
beating of her heart.
"Don't leave me, Sarah," he begged her in a choked whisper as he gave
in just for a moment to his darkest fear, "Don't ever leave me."
"Never, Harm," she swore tearfully, clutching him tightly to her. "I
won't ever leave you."
It was a promise she had made him before, an impossible promise, but
one that she was nonetheless determined to keep.
Naval Hospital
Bethesda, Maryland
1610 EST
The appointment was over, and Mac was grateful for it. It had been
pretty much what she'd expected, what she'd told Harm it would be.
She had gone in, put on one of those obnoxious paper shirts, and
waited twenty-one minutes in the freezing examination room for her
doctor to come in and confirm that she did, in fact, have a very
small lump in her breast. After that came the reassurances, and the
discussion of tests that would be needed just to make sure it was
nothing. And then, after a pat on the knee and an admonition not to
worry, the doctor was gone, leaving Mac and her paper shirt behind.
Finally, after taking two minutes to slip back into her uniform and
thirty-one to set up her next appointment, she went off to take care
of her depositions and was now finally able to head home.
Harm's Apartment
1805 EST
As soon as Harm stepped off the elevator, he could hear music blaring
inside his apartment. Quickly unlocking the door, he stepped in to
find Mac sitting on the floor in front of his bookcase wrapping up a
frame in newspaper. Singing along, loudly but only a little off-key,
to the Eagles `Heartache Tonight', she didn't notice him come in
until he reached up and turned down the volume.