Where We Belong
Part Four
The Admiral�s attitude, which had improved quite a bit once Harm had returned, or so he�d been told, had once again taken a turn for the worse. The general consensus was that his mood was directly related to his relationship with Meredith. Whether it was a temporary thing based on the stresses of getting married, or whether it was something deeper, no one could say. But whatever it was, it made him abrupt and short-tempered, and most people made a concerted effort to stay away. That wasn�t very difficult since he spent most of his time holed up in his office. The only two people who had to deal with him on a regular basis were Coates, as his yeoman, and Mac, as his Chief of Staff. For her part, Jen was doing her best to remain friendly and sympathetic. Which was the absolute worst thing to do when the Admiral was unhappy. Just about every person in the building had tried to explain it to her, but so far she wasn�t listening.
Mac, on the other hand, seemed completely unaffected by the Admiral�s bad temper. Everyone was amazed at how calm she remained in the face of his tirades and tantrums. It didn�t matter if he had legitimate cause to be upset or not, she just said �yes, sir� or �no, sir� or �understood, sir� and went on with her duties. At first, Harm thought it was just a facade she was using to try and hide how much he was upsetting her. But when he had asked her about it, she had just shrugged her shoulders and told him that it wasn�t worth getting upset because it wouldn�t change anything. And while the rest of the office was grateful for this new, unflappable Mac, Harm was worried. Because her indifference wasn�t just directed at the Admiral, it was directed at almost everyone. Sure, she still got mad. She and Sturgis had gotten into a rather loud argument yesterday about the case they were working on that ended with her storming out of his office and into her own. Not an unusual occurrence for Mac; she would shut herself in her office for hours at times trying to get her temper under control. And while Harm was the usual target, and cause, of her anger, she and Sturgis had had their share of disagreements. No, what worried Harm was her attitude when she came out of her office less than twenty minutes later. The whole bullpen had watched with trepidation as she calmly and deliberately made her way back into Sturgis� office, where Harm had been taking him to task for upsetting Mac. She had knocked politely, waited for Sturgis� somewhat apprehensive �enter�, apologized for losing her temper, and asked him to look over a revised plea agreement and get back to her. She had then walked calmly and deliberately back to her office. And that was the end of it. There was no sulking, no wounded looks, no sharp remarks or bursts of temper; she had just moved on. And when Harm had asked her why she had let Sturgis off the hook so easily, she had given the same answer she gave to him about the Admiral. It wasn�t worth it. Very little seemed to matter to her anymore, and he didn�t like it.
The more time they spent together, the more Harm was beginning to suspect that the only things that Mac appeared to think were worth it were her relationships with him and Mattie. It was the only reason he didn�t get more worried than she already was. When she was with them, whether it was out somewhere or just hanging around his apartment, she seemed like her old self. She joked and teased and gave back whatever he threw at her. There were still tense moments between them, moments when the past would come between them and make things awkward, but they were becoming fewer and farther between as time passed. And the happier Mac got as they regained their old friendship, the more scared Harm became. Because he wasn�t willing to stop once they reached the status quo. He didn�t want to just regain their old friendship; he wanted to move beyond it. He wanted a relationship, with hearts and flowers and candies and rings and houses and babies. He wanted a life with her, and he wasn�t willing to settle for anything less. He just didn�t know exactly how to go about convincing her of that. Especially considering her attitude towards everything else. He was terrified that she was going to tell him that anything beyond friendship wasn�t worth it; Harm just didn�t think he could go through that again. Fortunately for him, this time he wasn�t going in alone. He had back up. He had a secret weapon. He had Mattie Grace.
Mattie had been true to her word, throwing herself into coming up with a plan for Harm to get together with Mac with the kind of energy and drive that she had run Grace Aviation with. So far, what she had come up with was simple. Spend any and all free time with Mac and wear down her defenses with his constant presence and friendship. Then, when he had once again woven himself tightly into the fabric of her life, he could make his move to start something more. To that end, Mattie had volunteered herself as a willing tool for manipulation. She invited Mac over to dinner frequently, saying she could only eat �real� food when Mac joined them. She enrolled in a French class that she really didn�t have to take until next year as an excuse for Mac to tutor her, bringing up her skill with languages. She dragged the two of them out with her to take pictures of everything she could think of and made certain to wander off on her own enough to give Harm plenty of time to be alone with Mac.
Which led him to his current mission. He was under strict orders to get Mac over to the apartment for dinner tonight. When he had asked Mattie what his excuse should be, she had rolled her eyes at him and told him that his �excuse� should be that he wanted to spend time with his best friend, and so did Mattie. He smiled as he thought of the expression she would get on her face every time she thought he was being an idiot where Mac was concerned. She wore that expression frequently, he mused ruefully to himself. But then she would always laugh and hug him and tell him that he�d figure it out, now that he had her to here to help. He couldn�t disagree with her. His relationship with Mac was one of many things he was figuring out, thanks to Mattie. He couldn�t believe how important she�d become to him in such a short time, how much he loved her already. The only other person he�d ever felt this instant connection to was Mac.
Harm reached her office and found her turned away from him, facing the window and talking on the phone. He waited at the threshold, not wanting to interrupt. She sounded happy, he thought to himself, and he was glad. It was rare for her to sound so cheerful at work and he had missed it. Drawn in by her good mood, he took an involuntary step inside the door, just in time to hear her wrap up her call.
�I�m so glad you called, Clay,� she said with genuine affection. Harm froze as he felt a sharp, burning pain in his gut. She was talking to Webb. She was glad Webb called. She was happy because of Webb. She was still with Webb.
�You, too, Clay. Bye.� She hung up the phone and turned her chair around, a wide smile on her face. A smile that vanished the moment she saw Harm standing in her office. Apprehension and guilt played across her features, and in that expression Harm�s suspicions were confirmed. And his hopes were destroyed. He allowed himself to grieve for the loss of his dreams for just a moment before shutting down. He turned without a word and headed back out the door, not even pausing when she called his name.
He made it back to his office on autopilot. Shutting the door, he moved behind his desk and sat down heavily into his chair, letting his head fall in his hands. He had been so sure this time. Everything Mattie had said, everything Mac had said, and everything he had seen with his own eyes had convinced him that he had at least had a chance. But he couldn�t, wouldn�t, fool himself any longer. Mac didn�t want him; she wanted Clayton Webb. And he didn�t know if he could accept that and still be her friend.
He heard someone open the door without knocking and knew that it was Mac. He couldn�t deal with her right now, so he did the only thing he could. He ignored her.
�Harm?� Her voice was tentative. �Harm, are you all right?�
He snorted inwardly. That had to be the most inane question in the history of human relations. If you had to ask if someone was all right, chances were that they weren�t all right. But the question was there, and all he could do was give her an equally inane response.
�I�m fine,� he said tonelessly, raising his head and looking up at her. Bad idea, he thought as he quickly lowered his head to the desk, picking up the first file he saw. That look in her eyes, the concern and the fear; he couldn�t take that look.
�Harm, please talk to me,� she pleaded softly.
�I�m busy, Mac,� he said, shaking the file in his hand to emphasis his point.
�You�re hiding,� she retorted. Harm felt a stab of anger at her response. Who was she to talk about hiding?
�I�m working,� he said sharply, �and I�d like to do it in private if you don�t mind.�
Mac�s own anger flooded to the surface. �I do mind, Harm. We need to talk.�
�No, we don�t� he answered coldly, �and I think it would be best if you left now.�
�So that�s it?� she asked in frustration. �You�re just shutting me out? That�s your idea of making things better? This is how you fix things?�
�It takes two to fix things, Mac,� he responded tightly.
�I�m not the one shutting down, Harm,� she said, angrily raising her voice. �I�m trying to fix things.�
�Does Clay know that?� He asked derisively.
�Damn it, Harm!� she swore, �How many times do I have to tell you this? There is nothing going on between Webb and me. We�re friends. That�s all.�
�If there�s nothing between you, why did you look so guilty when you saw me in your office and knew that I heard you?� He glared at her, his tone accusing.
�Because you make me feel like I should feel guilty!� she yelled at him. �And that�s not fair! I shouldn�t be made to feel guilty about talking to my friend. And that�s all he is, Harm - my friend. I am not dating him.�
His mouth dropped open in disbelief. �How can you stand there and say that to me with a straight face?� he asked incredulously. �How can you lie to my face when you stood at the Wall on Christmas Eve and told me that you had a date with him?�
She sighed in exasperation. �That�s just it, Harm. I said I had a date with him. Not that I was dating him. There�s a big difference.�
�Oh, really? And what exactly would that difference be?�
Her eyes hardened in response to the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
�The difference, Harm, is in the intent. Going on an occasional date with someone is a casual thing. It�s spending time with a person whose company you enjoy. My �dates� with Webb aren�t really any different than all the times we�ve spent together over the years. Dating implies commitment. It means you�re seeing someone with the hopes of moving forward in a relationship. That is not what Clay and I are doing.� She couldn�t resist adding, �Again, much like you and I.�
The words stabbed at him, confirming his worst fear. She didn�t want to move forward with him. The pain that he felt at that realization caused him to strike back.
�So going on dates with someone doesn�t mean you�re dating them?� His tone was mocking as he continued before she could respond. �Kind of like wearing a ring on your right hand for ten months doesn�t mean you�re engaged to them?�
The words weren�t even out of his mouth before he regretted them. She froze, her entire body stiffening. She couldn�t hide the hurt on her face or the tears in her eyes. He stepped forward and she flinched. He stopped and just stared at her.
�Mac, I�m sorry,� he said softly, his voice filled with remorse. Her expression didn�t change, and she said nothing as she moved to the door.
�Mac, please,� he called after her.
She turned to face him. �I don�t know if it matters to you at this point,� she said quietly, �but Clay had a doctor�s appointment today and he called to fill me in. They confirmed that there was no lasting damage from the torture he went through. He�s made a full recovery.� She smiled sadly at him. �Guess he escaped the Mackenzie curse, huh?� There was no anger, only regret in her voice as she added, �Anyway, I just thought you should know.�
Without another word, she walked out of his office and quite possibly out of his life. He dropped back into his chair.
�God, Rabb. Mattie was right. You really are an idiot,� he berated himself. He shook his head. What the hell was he supposed to do now?
He reached the door to his apartment and fished out his keys. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open and walked slowly inside, dropping his briefcase on the floor and his cover on the bookcase. He could smell something fragrant coming from the kitchen and looked over to see Mattie over the stove, cooking what looked like spaghetti.
�Hey,� she greeted him with a smile; �Dinner will be ready in a few minutes if you want to go change quick. Where�s Mac? Didn�t she come home with you? Or did you actually let her drive her �vette in the snow without giving her a hard time?�
�She�s not coming,� he winced as he saw the bright smile on her face falter.
�Why not?� she asked, trying not to appear upset.
He sighed. �We had a...disagreement.�
�About what?� she said, narrowing her eyes at him.
�Her boyfriend,� Harm muttered petulantly, and immediately berated himself for it.
Mattie gasped at his pronouncement. �She said she�s dating that Webb guy?� She sounded horrified at the thought.
�No,� he admitted, somewhat grudgingly. �Actually she said that she wasn�t dating him.�
Now Mattie was confused. �I don�t get it. What�s the problem? If they�re not involved, and you know that now...?� she trailed off, clearly waiting for an explanation.
Harm felt like he was being backed into a corner. �I don�t know that, Mattie.�
�What do you mean you don�t know that?� she asked incredulously, �Of course you know that. She said so, didn�t she?�
�You don�t understand,� he tried hard not to snap at her.
�No, I understand,� she shot back. She stepped forward, her tone accusing. �I understand just fine. Mac told you that she wasn�t dating him, but you didn�t want to think that you�ve been wrong this whole time, so you called her a liar. And now she�s mad at you.�
�I didn�t call her a liar,� he answered defensively.
�Did you believe her when she told you?� Mattie challenged. He shook his head guiltily.
�No,� he admitted, ashamed that he hadn�t.
�Then it�s the same thing,� she said angrily. She pushed past him and stalked to the bedroom. Stopping at the entryway, Mattie delivered her parting shot. �You know, Harm, I was wrong. When it comes to Mac, you�re not an idiot. You�re a jerk.�
All Harm could think as he watched her disappear into the bedroom was that he couldn�t disagree with her about that, either.
January 13, 2004
JAG Headquarters
1620 EST
As Harm made his way through the bullpen to Mac�s office, he couldn�t help reflecting on how much things had changed at JAG since Christmas. A month ago, he couldn�t have pointed out one person who wasn�t stressed, exhausted, annoyed, or depressed, including him. But with the New Year had come a lot of new attitudes. Now that the USO show was over, Harriet was no longer stressed about work and that had made both her and Bud very happy. And Sturgis, who had been cranky, pessimistic, and generally disagreeable most of the year, had done a complete turnaround and was actually pleasant ninety-nine percent of the time. He�d even buried the hatchet with Bud, which Harm considered a small miracle after the way Sturgis had acted. And thanks to Mattie, and his mending relationship with his best friend, Harm himself was feeling much more upbeat and hopeful than he had since before his stint in the brig. In fact, if it weren�t for a couple of exceptions, JAG would be almost the same as it was before Bud�s accident. Unfortunately for everyone, the couple of exceptions weren�t ones that could be overlooked. Not when one of them was their commanding officer and the other was his Chief of Staff.
Harm�s Apartment
1840 EST
Harm trudged slowly up the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. After Mac had left his office, he had spent the afternoon holed up in his office, wallowing in misery and self-flagellation. He hadn�t tried to talk to her again; partly because he didn�t know what to say it and partly because he didn�t want to know what else she would say. He had just stayed hidden and stared at the files on his desk, unable to concentrate on them long enough to do anything about them. Finally, when he was reasonably sure she�d left for the day, he had quietly packed up his things and headed home.