Title: Wasted Time 1/8
Author: Kay
Rating: PG-13 to R in some places for slight language and Adult Situations (Angst, romance, language)
Summary: You’re just gonna have to read this one. This story is set sometime after the events of Paraguay. It was also written before the season premiere ever aired, but surprisingly, it fits okay with what happened on the show. Only slight discrepencies.
Disclaimer: They aren’t mine, and after this one I don’t know if even DPB would want them. The song "Wasted Time" belongs to the Eagles.
Author’s Note: Okay, let me start off by saying this is a totally different kind of story for me. Most of you who know me know that I am a relentless, DIE HARD shipper. So, let me apologize ahead of time for this piece to all my shipper pals out there. I have no idea why this story popped into my head and wouldn’t leave me alone, and this is what came out. I think all of you angsty people out there are rubbing off on me. LOL! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, or at least read it and see some artistic value in it. Also, I originally wrote this as an NC-17 fic but modified it to submit for the 2003 Jag Fanfic Awards and since it had been changed I thought I'd go ahead and post it here. But, if you'd like the "uncut" version, you can find it at my website: www.oocities.org/kyn619/
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Oh, Baby there you stand,
With your little head down in your hand.
Oh my God, you can’t believe it’s happening again.
Your baby’s gone, and you’re all alone,
and it looks like the end.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Pain.
The pain was an unmerciful ache in her chest...in her heart...
How could he do this to her? How could he hurt her like this?
The images of betrayal flashed like the lightning, almost blinding her, as she continued to run down the street...his street, away from him, away from the sound of his voice calling out for her to stop...to listen...
Calling her name...
Sarah...
Running...she had to keep running...
Stumbling, she fell to the side walk, slick from the first drops of rain from the Spring storm blowing up around her. More rain...always rain...
And all because of him...
JAG Headquarters
Previous Day
Mac’s Office
"Hey, Mac. I’m out of here. You need anything before I go?"
Mac looked up from the file on her desk and eyed her handsome partner, silently contemplating all of the things she really needed from him. However, none of the stray thoughts made their way past her lips.
"I can’t think of anything." After pausing for a moment, Mac gathered her courage and asked as casually as she could manage, "So, you got any plans tonight, Harm?"
"Not really. Sturgis had talked about getting together for a drink but I hadn’t committed either way. You?"
"Naw. Just a date with my television."
"You’re more than welcome to tag along with Sturg and me if you want to."
Not just him. Him and Sturgis. And ‘tag along’? She sighed. "That’s okay. Too much testosterone for me."
"Well, you know, if we Navy men are too much for you..." he let the rest of his sentence drop off but a smug smile was still playing about his lips.
Snickering, Mac replied. "In your dreams, Sailor."
‘Yeah, in my dreams,’ Harm thought to himself. "Well, if you change your mind, give me a buzz."
"Sure. See you."
"Later." And with that he turned and walked away without a backward glance.
Mac sat there for awhile longer, watching his retreat long after he had already disappeared. What was it about him that made her turn into a weak, mindless female in his presence. Or worse yet, just good ole Mac, his buddy, just a friend. It had been that way ever since it had happened. Oh hell, even before that. But since then it had been even worse.
"Good grief. It was just a kiss, Mackenzie," she chastised herself out loud. But even she knew the truth. It had been one hell of a kiss. New Year’s Eve had been spent together on her couch and as the seconds ticked down both knew it was coming...it had been inevitable when their lips had met.
Things had been going well since their little adventure in Paraguay. A lot had been discussed between them while there. Of course there wasn’t much else to do while stuck there but talk. They had cleared the air about her feelings for Webb, feelings, she assured him, that were that of friendship and of a deep caring for everything he had done for her. And they had reached the conclusion, together, to take things slow and easy in their own relationship.
They’d spend time together, work together, and if anything else developed...well then they’d deal with it as it came. They had returned, things semi getting back to normal, and had fallen into a routine of sorts. Evenings spent over dinner and maybe a little music, some dancing. Hugs, light touching, meaningful glances, soft kisses. They were moving foreward, growing closer. It seemed only natural to spend the evening ringing in a new year together...
A kiss. That was all it was, just another kiss...well a kiss that had really gotten a little out of control. They’d come so close that night, so close to taking that last step, but they hadn’t. The ringing of the telephone had interrupted the two would be lovers, and when they had broke a part, both were a little shocked at how far things had progressed. His shirt was hanging open, as was hers, and his jeans were undone. Mac had forced herself to move to get the still ringing phone and took a calming breath before answering.
It was Chloe calling to wish her a Happy New Year, and Mac was torn between wanting to hug the young woman she was so fond of, and trying to come up with an excuse to get rid of her. In the end it hadn’t mattered. By the time the relatively short call was over, Harm had righted his clothing and was cleaning up their dessert dishes from earlier.
Sighing, Mac pitched in to help him and soon after that he had left, placing a light parting kiss on her lips. The heat that had erupted between them earlier was gone and in its place the platonic friendship took the drivers seat once again.
And that’s where it had stayed for the last month and a half. There was no awkwardness, no hostility, but there was really no closeness either. Every time one brought up the idea of dinner, the other had to decline for one reason or another. To Mac it seemed like he had all but forgotten about that amazing moment between them. For her it was all she thought about. So close...
Shaking her head to clear it Mac stood up and stretched, taking in the mess that was her office. Ever since Bud’s accident, and Singer’s death, Harm’s trial, and then the undercover mission, the office had been in constant chaos with everyone trying to help get things back under control. Even though Bud had returned in a limited "permanent" capacity, he still wasn’t up to full speed
yet.
The sting of sorrow hit Mac once again at the thought of her still suffering friends. Things seemed to be better for them now, with the new baby and all, but still, it just wasn’t fair.
After gathering her stuff, she was just about to walk out when her phone began to ring. Debating on whether to answer it or not, Mac finally relented. "Mackenzie."
"Mac...did I catch you at a bad time?" the deep rich voice drifted over the line.
"Clay," Mac acknowledged. "No, I was just getting ready to head out." She wasn’t about to offer up any further information.
"Well then, I’m glad I caught you. Have dinner with me."
Sighing, Mac tried to dissuade the conversation she knew was coming. "I’m not really up for anything tonight, Clay."
"Come on, Mac. How many times are you going to blow me off before you just accept the inevitable?"
"You’re going to have to do more than talk to convince me, Clayton Webb." She was blatantly flirting she knew, but it had been a really long time since any man had showed an interest in her as a woman. A little bit couldn’t hurt...right?
"Just give me a shot, Sarah, and I’m more than sure I could convince you."
Mac couldn’t help but smile. Boy he was really laying the charm on thick tonight. Ever since their adventure as "husband and wife", Clayton Webb had taken his personal interest in her to a whole new level, which kind of unsettled her. They had talked in the hospital, giving voice to her reservations that things just wouldn’t work out between them. And to her surprise he seemed to understand. She thought he would just give up, and he had...for a while.
He’d remained in South America for some time before finally coming back to the states about two months ago and had started pursuing her relentlessly. She hadn’t told Harm about it of course. One, it was none of his business but two, because she still held out hope that one day her and Harm might be able to work everything out. Not that she wasn’t attracted to Clayton Webb, but was she willing to risk everything she could possibly have with Harm for a passing fling with Clay?
‘Who says it would be just a fling?’
So caught up in her own thoughts, Mac never saw the retreating form of the tall, Navy Commander that now felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He had come back to get her, to convince her to come with him to dinner, to hell with Sturgis. He was tired of acting like nothing had happened between them. He was ready...ready to move forward. It had been so hard to give her space after their kiss on New Year’s Eve. If it had been up to him they would have plowed right in to a relationship. But then she had seemed to back off, so not knowing what else to do, so had he. They were still speaking, still partners and friends, but he had held some slim hope that they might eventually be more.
And now this.
Webb...she was with Webb. After their discussion, after everything they had agreed upon, she was back with Webb. When the hell had this happened? Before New Years? After New Years? Could she really turn it on and off that fast? His head was pounding.
Drink...he needed a drink. Maybe he’d meet Sturgis after all.
Moving soundlessly, he made his way back to the elevators, never hearing the words that would have made everything right in his world again.
Pushing the confused thoughts from her head, Mac answered. "Look, Clay. I’m flattered, really but, you know I can’t. I’m tired and I think I just want to grab some dinner, maybe take a walk, and head home."
There was a brief pause and for a moment she thought he might argue. "All right, Mac. You win...this time. Just know, the offer stands. Anytime, anywhere. All you have to do is call."
The seductive tone of his voice was doing funny things to her. Okay, it was past time to end this call. "Um...thanks...Clay. I’ll remember that."
"I hope you do, Mac." And with that the line went dead, leaving one stunned Sarah Mackenzie. The buzzing of the line finally brought Mac out of her daze. ‘Geez, Marine, pull yourself together.’
Later on, after she had went home and changed, Mac was walking down the nondescript D.C. street. She had no idea what she was doing. Maybe she could, if she tried hard enough, convince herself that she really was out to take in the scenery, to unwind after her long day. Maybe she could make herself believe that it was because this particular vendor sold the most incredible hot dogs on the whole eastern sea board.
But as she walked along, completely alone and honest with herself, Mac could only convince herself of the truth...that she so very much wanted to make the short distance to Harm’s apartment and set everything right between them. It took another 2 hours but she finally did it. Gathering all of the courage she had left within her, she pulled her car into the alley next to his building. It was late, and looking up she noticed his lights were off but his ‘vette was there so she made her way into the dark, quiet building, knowing she couldn’t wait until tomorrow to talk to him.
Standing at his door, she faltered slightly but with one more deep breath to steady her, Mac lifted a timid hand and knocked. There was no immediate answer so she knocked again.
She was about to give up and leave when she finally heard rustling on the other side of the door before it opened to reveal a very startled and disheveled looking Harmon Rabb.
"Mac? Umm...wh...what are you doing here?"
Momentarily distracted by how incredibly sexy Harm looked in nothing but a pair of button-fly jeans that weren’t buttoned all the way, Mac finally met his eyes...
That’s when the panic in his voice finally registered and she knew immediately something was very, very wrong.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
You’re back out on the street
and you’re trying to remember,
how you started over,
you don’t know if you can.
You don’t care much for a stranger’s touch
but you can’t hold your man.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Leaning against the brick building, Mac sat letting the rain pelt her, willing it to wash away all of the hurt and anger she felt.
She should have run as soon as she saw his eyes. Even before a word was spoken, even before she saw the drowsy, young blonde come up behind him, Mac had known what he had done.
Selfish bastard.
She knew she really had no right to feel this way. They were friends, friends that had shared a few intimate moments between them. They weren’t anything more to each other than that...but she had so wished they would be.
Only now, she finally knew the truth. They would never be anything. Not now...not ever...
But why did it have to hurt this damn bad? Why did she still want him, need him, knowing that she could never have him? Why did he have to own her soul?
And dear God, what was she supposed to do now? How was she supposed to face him again, in the office, after...this? After acting like the lover scorned.
Lover. Harm’s lover. That would never happen, and her heart broke even more at the reality of it.
Turning her face up to the rain, Mac sat, her mind warring with her body about what to do next. Taking a mental note of the time she realized it was well after one o’clock in the morning. What the hell was she going to do? She didn’t want to go home; and going back for her car was out of the question.
She could really use a drink, the thought whispered through her mind before she could stop it, soft, seductive...
Just then a voice, as if on the wind, swirled around her...
"Just know, the offer stands...Anytime, anywhere...All you have to do is call..."
Clay. She would call Clay.
After standing there for a moment, stunned, Harm raced out of the building after Mac as fast as his legs would carry him. "MAC! Oh God, Mac, WAIT!" Reaching the end of the street he looked each way, trying to figure out which way she would have ran. "Mac...Mac...just let me explain..." he called, knowing full well there was no explanation for what he had done. More weakly this time he tried again. "Please, Sarah..." Choosing a direction he kept running but it was no use. She wasn’t there.
Sinking down on to the bus stop bench, Harm dropped his head into his hands as the rain began to fall, her parting words echoing through his mind...
"Harm? How...how could you? I thought we..."
And then she had ran. Away from him.
How could he? How could he have been so God damn stupid? Even though they weren’t a couple, after seeing Mac’s face tonight, the pain and hurt in her eyes, there was no doubt how she saw "them". And if the truth were known, that’s how he felt too. He also knew, in an instant moment of clarity, that she wasn’t involved with Webb, just how he knew he wasn’t sure. Tonight he had truly blown it.
Even with no formal commitment between them, he knew in his heart he had betrayed her and everything that they were together.
The earlier events of the evening came flooding back, along with a sense of overwhelming loss. The bar, the waitress, and Sturgis. Sturgis had tried to stop him, tried to get him to see reason, as if he had known something more about the situation that Harm didn’t.
But Harm had blown him off because he was jealous and angry. Angry at her.
Now...now he felt a loss so deep it was physically painful. He had lost her...and he had no one to blame but himself.
Benzinger’s
Earlier that evening.
Sturgis sat and watched as Harm poured himself another shot. The bottle was already half empty and they had only been there an hour. Something was bothering his friend, and even though Harm hadn’t said so, he had a pretty good idea what, or more specifically who, the problem was.
"Hey, Harm. Don’t you think you should slow down?"
"What are you? My mother?" Harm continued to down the amber liquid without even looking in Sturgis’ direction.
"You want to talk about it?"Sturgis offered, trying to at least subtly talk Harm out of the bottle.
Harm remained quiet for a second before downing another drink. "Nope."
"Come on. At least tell me what you and Mac got into it about this time."
Harm tensed at the mention of Mac’s name. Bingo!
"Why does it always have to be about Mac with you, Sturgis?" Harm practically snarled.
Wow, something big must have happened for Harm to be reacting this way. Undeterred, Sturgis countered, "Because when it comes to you, everything has to do her."
Shot glass stalled at his lips, Harm sat deep in thought again, and Sturgis saw something akin to pain flash in his friends eyes. Then he snorted in disgust. "Yeah, well, not anymore." The empty glass banged down on the bar with finality.
Frowning, Sturgis asked the now burning question. "What the hell are you talking about, Harm? What happened?"
Before Harm could answer, a woman’s voice came from across the bar. "How you doing, Sailor? Need anything else?"
Sturgis eyed the young blonde behind the counter. The suggestive tone of her voice wasn’t lost on him, and judging by the leer on Harm’s face is wasn’t lost on him either.
"What’s your name?" Harm slurred.
"Elizabeth," she answered, sending a coy smile Harm’s way.
"Harm," Sturgis gritted out through clenched teeth. "What are you doing?"
Never taking his eyes off the waitress Harm answered, "What does it look like, Sturg? I’m talking to a very pretty lady."
The waitress blushed, giving him another smile. "Harm, huh? Interesting name."
She had a nice smile, Harm thought to himself. She wasn’t nearly as pretty as Mac but...he shook his head, trying to get the images of Mac’s beautiful face out of his mind. Here was a woman, right in front of him that, by the looks of it, was definitely interested. Why not pursue it? It had been a long damn time since he’d been with anyone. And the one he wanted was no longer available, he thought bitterly.
"What time do you get off?" Harm found himself saying before he could give it too much thought.
"About twenty minutes."
"Hmmm..." was all he said in way of answer.
"Beth! Come ‘ere a minute," the bartender called from down the bar.
As she walked away, tossing a suggestive wink at Harm over her shoulder, Sturgis again tried to reach his friend. "Harm, what are you doing? You going to take that girl home?" When Harm shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, Sturgis continued, the anger evident in his rising voice. "What about Mac?"
Now it was Harm’s turn to get defensive. "What about her, Sturgis? What the hell does Mac have anything to do with me wanting to get laid?"
Sturgis flinched at Harm’s crude remark, but trudged on, choosing to ignore it. "Think about what you’re about to do here. Not only is a one night stand dangerous, are you willing to give up everything you could have with Mac just to have meaningless sex with a total stranger?"
Punching a finger into his chest, Harm growled, "This is none of your business, Sturgis. Back the fuck off!" Harm immediately felt contrite after seeing Sturgis’ murderous look. "Shit, I’m sorry, man." Wanting to apologize further to his friend Harm offered to buy him another beer.
Shaking his head in disgust, Sturgis threw some bills on the bar and finished off the one he had. Grabbing his cover he turned to go.
"Sturgis...wh...where are you going?"
Sturgis turned back to stare at him intently. "I’m going to walk away from this before I watch a very good friend make the biggest mistake of his life. Night." He nodded curtly before walking out of the bar without ever looking back.
Deep down Harm knew Sturgis was right, but in the end it hadn’t mattered. Before Harm could even gather up the strength to follow after him, Beth was back, offering him another drink and something more...
With his head hung in shame, Harmon Rabb sat alone on the bench, in the pouring rain, and wept.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
You never thought you’d be alone this far down the line.
But I know what’s been on your mind.
You’re afraid it’s all been wasted time.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Clayton Webb looked at the woman that sat in a crumpled heap, propped up against the brick building, her phone still clutched tightly in her hand.. She was soaked through, her clothes plastered to her body...but what gave him pause was the haunted emptiness in her eyes.
When she finally noticed him, her eyes meeting his, they were devoid of any life. Whatever happened to her had completely broken Sarah Mackenzie’s strong spirit. The thought enraged him. There was only one explanation, and by God he was going to kill Harmon Rabb for doing this to her.
Mac saw the fire and fury in his eyes, and for a moment was almost jealous of it. She wanted to feel. She wanted to be angry again. She had been so angry when she saw him standing before her, wanting to hide, wanting to shield her from what he’d done. She wanted that fury back. She wanted to pound her fists into his flesh, to feel him break under her wrath...but the will just wasn’t there. Not for that; not for anything.
Anger had given way to desolation and now she felt nothing.
From hurt, to anger, to pain, to nothing.
Her heart, just like the rest of her body, was numb.
Before she realized he had moved, Webb was bending down in front of her, his hand gently brushing the wet strands of hair off her forehead, before cupping her cheek tenderly. "Oh, Sarah. What did he do to you?"
His feather light touch and softly spoken words barely registered as her eyes stared vacantly back at him. She couldn’t answer him, but it didn’t matter. In the next instant she was being lifted into his arms.
Quickly wiping the tears and rain water from his eyes, Harm managed to stand, his wobbly legs threatening to give out on him at any time. Making his way back to his apartment his mind worked furiously, trying to figure out what to do next. As he reached the alley he noticed her car for the first time and his heart lurched in his chest.
Walking over to it he ran his hand over the hood of the sleek sports car, the water gliding off in a downward slope. He had no idea why, but just touching the tangible evidence that she’d been here, that she’d have to come back to him sometime, gave him a slight ray of hope. It also brought back all the guilt.
He needed to see her, to apologize, to beg her to forgive him.
But what if she didn’t this time? Then what?
The war raged on as Harm walked up the steps, not bothering to wait for the elevator up to his floor. Reaching his door he noticed it slightly ajar. Cautiously he moved, letting the door slide open with just the touch of his fingertips, half afraid of what he’d find on the other side.
The lights were still off, the only light coming from the harsh glare of the hallway light. Relief flooded through him when he realized that he was alone. He hadn’t really wanted to deal with the sure awkwardness that would have come from a confrontation with Beth. Closing the door behind him Harm walked over to the island counter sitting down heavily on one of the stools, staring off into space.
He was still soaked, his body peppered with goosebumps from the combination of the chilly room and his wet jeans, but he didn’t notice. His mind was consumed with all of his memories of this evening floating around in his head: hearing Mac’s one-sided conversation with Webb, the drinking, Sturgis...the sex.
Almost sick to his stomach, Harm glanced over at the couch. That’s all it had been, just sex. That was what he had wanted, right? Yeah, he had done it. He had taken what was so freely offered all the while knowing it was wrong, and with it he had sacrificed everything worth anything in his life. There had been no intimacy, no emotion with Beth. It was a desperate act, an act to banish the hurt he had felt knowing that Mac had moved on, that she had chosen Webb. With every thrust into Beth’s body he had destroyed everything that could have been with the woman he loved.
Sturgis was right; it had been the biggest mistake of his life.
Walking over to the window he looked out, staring at the storm ravaged night sky.
It was a foreign feeling to him, shame. Not the guilt; guilt was a constant companion in his life. Guilt had been a result of almost every major event of his life. He was used to screwing up. What he wasn’t used to was the possibility that this time there might not be a chance at redemption. He had always counted on being able to come out on top, to be able to talk his way out of anything, to pull the proverbial rabbit out of his hat. Somehow, he didn’t think he’d be able to pull it off this time. His behavior was disgusting, and that alone he could not forgive himself, let alone expect her to.
He’d seen her face tonight; he could tell from the childlike hope in her eyes she had come to him ready. Ready for him. Ready for them. She had made a decision and there was love and an unmistakable longing there...until the sleepy voice behind him had changed it all.
Harm had never seen such pain on another human being before. The fire that had been the inner spirit of Sarah Mackenzie had been extinguished in an instant. All he wanted, in that very moment, was to make that wounded look go away. Even now when he closed his eyes that was the image that projected itself on his closed lids.
Rage welled up within him. He wanted to banish that image from his mind.
It wasn’t fare! Why should he have to feel like this?
He’d had sex. It’d felt great. Not spectacular but good enough. It wasn’t like he slept around. It was one time in over two years. Two years! What the hell was he supposed to do? Sit around forever while Mac made up her mind whether she wanted him or not? She hadn’t given him the time he had asked for so why the hell should he feel guilty for not giving it to her?
The more he thought about it, the madder he got. Walking over to the fridge he yanked the door open, blindly reaching inside for a bottle of beer. After popping the cap on the counter he stalked over to the living area, prowling the small area in front of the bookcase.
Taking a swig of the cold liquid he looked over at the wooden structure, his eyes roving over the scattered memories of his life, frozen forever in the photographs that littered each shelf. Most of the major events of his life were presented there. Pictures of graduations, award ceremonies, weddings and christenings. There were snapshots and professional photographs, all depicting the life he had chosen to live. He almost succeeded in ignoring the fact that Sarah Mackenzie played an amazingly large role in most of the stories those pictures told.
It was his life, damn it! He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs that it was none of her damn business what he chose to do or with whom. There was no commitment, no ring on her finger. Hell, they hadn’t even really been dating. Working dinners hardly constituted an intimate relationship. It had been nine months since they’d been in Paraguay.
So they had kissed a few times. So what? How the hell was he supposed to know she wanted more? It’s not like she’d opened her god damn mouth and told him what she really wanted. She hadn’t said anything...so what did he do? He had picked up the first blonde that had showed any interest in him and took her to bed.
"Fuck!" The shout reverberated throughout the apartment, punctuated by the sound of breaking glass as the bottle shattered against the opposite wall. "Fuck," he rasped this time, his head thrown back, hands on his hips. When he looked back down his eyes were drawn to the bookshelf once more, to the picture of two smiling faces, their arms wrapped around each other, their battle dress dusty from a night in the Afghan desert. Butch and Sundance. Jesus, the picture said it all.
The excuses were bullshit and he knew it. He was wrong. No matter how you looked at it Harmon Rabb was wrong. All the justification in the world wouldn’t change the truth. Sturgis was right. The truth was that when it came down to it, everything in his life now had to do with Mac. And no matter how much he wanted to convince himself otherwise, Sarah Mackenzie owned his soul.
The broken bottle forgotten, Harm walked back over to the window, his forehead head coming to rest against the glass as he watched the rain pour down over the red Corvette below. All he wanted right now was a chance to talk to her, to make things right. He watched as hard as he could, hoping in vain that he could somehow magically conger her up out of nowhere. But it never happened.
It wasn’t meant to be. Harm couldn’t help but wonder if that wasn’t the prevailing theme of his life. It always seemed like it just wasn’t meant to be for them. Something always managed to get in their way. His fault, her fault, all of the opportunities and chances, all of the time they’d wasted...none of it seemed to matter now.
"I’m sorry," he whispered to no one, all the while praying that by some kind of miracle she could hear him. "Oh god, Mac, I am so sorry."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
All the leaves have got you thinkin’
about the first time that you fell.
You didn’t love the boy too much no, no,
you just loved the boy too well.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mac watched listlessly as the naked trees passed by the car window like images from a projector, their leaves stripped away by the harsh winter. The passing landscape looked desolate, which unfortunately was in keeping with Mac’s present frame of mind. She had absolutely no idea where Clay was taking her and at the moment she really didn’t care, as long as it was away from here, away from him.
They rode in silence, the soft hum of the car engine the only sound in the vehicle. It was as distracting as it was soothing. Looking over at his profile, the tight set of his jaw, she knew he deserved an explanation for all of this. Well, maybe deserved was a strong word, but at the very least he had earned one.
But where the hell was she supposed to start?
She was just about to open her mouth to launch into an explanation when instead "I’m sorry" slipped out before she could stop it.
Momentarily taking his eyes off the road, he looked at her puzzled. "What? What are you sorry for?" he asked, curious.
Gazing back out the window she mumbled miserably, "I don’t know...everything."
Pulling to a stop at the light, Clay turned in his seat to face her. "Look at me." When she refused he asked again softly. "Sarah, look at me."
She turned her head toward him, her large sad eyes finally meeting his. "Whatever happened, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."
"Not even for calling you in the middle of the night?" she asked, her voice small.
"Especially for that. I told you to call me anytime and I meant it," he answered firmly, turning back around as the light turned green. Stepping on the accelerator, Clay took one hand off the steering wheel to tentatively reach for her hand. "You ready to talk about it?"
"No," she answered honestly, "but I need to at some point I guess. Might as well be now." Taking a deep breath, she gave him the short version. "I went over to see Harm tonight. Only...when I got there he...he wasn’t alone."
Clay’s jaw clenched, "Were you two...had you finally started..."
"Had we started dating?" she filled in his blanks. When he nodded she sighed. "I thought that’s what we were doing...that is, until New Year’s."
"What happened New Year’s?" he gently prodded, not sure he wanted to hear the answer. He understood where Sarah Mackenzie’s heart lied, he always had and that’s why he had backed off...to an extent anyway. It still didn’t make this any easier to hear. And he still couldn’t stop himself from wanting her.
"We...things got a little out of hand." Noticing his pained expression she hurried on. "We didn’t sleep together. We were...interrupted when Chloe called," she finished, her cheeks tinged slightly with embarrassment.
"Would you have? Had she not called?" He tried for a neutral tone but didn’t quite pull it off.
She didn’t want to hurt him, but there was only one way to answer. "In all honesty...yeah, I think we would have."
She grew quiet as Clay drove on. A few more miles down the road, she spoke again. "Up until then we’d been working on getting closer. You know, spending time together, dinners, quiet evenings. After everything that happened in Paraguay, I thought he’d finally figured it out...that he wanted me. I mean, he risks everything to come after me: his job, his life...flying. He makes this grand gesture, and as soon as things start to get too personal, too intimate, he backs off."
"What do you mean he backed off?" he asked incredulously.
"Just what I said, he backed off. After that night in my apartment it was like he just shut it down and walked away. No more spending time with each other. The dinners stopped. I asked him several times if he wanted to get together but he always had something to do, or when he asked a few times, I was busy. So eventually we just quit asking. It’s like it all just...went away. But I still thought..."
When she faltered his fingers tightened around hers in encouragement, giving her his strength to finish. "I still thought that we’d eventually work it out and move forward. That is, until tonight. He was supposed to go out tonight with Sturgis and he asked me to go along. It’s just...I didn’t want to be ‘out’ with the guys, you know? I wanted to be out with him, just the two of us. Anyway, I just told him no, he left and then you called. After I talked to you I went for a walk, did some thinking and made a decision. I went over there tonight to tell him that I was ready. I...I really thought he’d be happy. Then I get there and find out that obviously I misunderstood everything."
Clay listened, his whole body tense with rage, but he said nothing. How the hell could he do this to her?
But even Harm’s blatant disregard for her feelings wasn’t what upset him the most. He was completely stunned that, in the whole time she’d been talking, not once did Mac raise her voice or change her inflection. It stayed the same: no emotion, no feeling. It was almost like she was just a passive observer in her own life.
Why wasn’t she angry? He knew Mac. Hell, her feisty, fighting spirit was one of the things he had always loved about her. But looking at her now, listening to her, it was like this Sarah was a completely different person. She should be furious, ready to rip Harm apart with her bare hands. Instead she just sat there in her seat, small and wounded and blaming herself.
Finally pulling up in front of a large house, he shut off the car and got out, walking around to her side to help her out. Her arms immediately wrapped around him, begging him without words to not let her go. Without any thought he complied, willing to let her take whatever she needed from him, if only for tonight.
Stepping into the foyer of the house Mac took in her surroundings. Everywhere she looked fine things spoke of old money, from the paintings on the walls, to glass cases full of priceless vestiges. She had always known Clayton Webb came from a wealthy family, but she had never been witness to it until now.
"You need to warm up before you catch pneumonia." When she immediately started to protest that she was fine, he was ready for her. "Don’t even start. Your skin is like ice. Come on, move it, Marine," he commanded, tugging her toward the steps. "There’s a bathroom just up the stairs. I’ll get you settled in, then you can take a shower and warm up while I put on some tea."
Giving in simply because she lacked the strength to argue, she smiled at him indulgently before letting herself be led by his hand gently resting at the small of her back. In no time he had her making her way to the top of the long, winding staircase to the second floor.
Running her fingertips along the polished wood as she ascended, Mac was suddenly aware of how close he really was to her. He was hovering, but instead of finding it oppressive Mac was strangely comforted by his attention. He was a warm and solid presence in her now cold existence and for the first time since leaving Harm’s apartment, Mac began to let herself feel.
Depositing her off at the bathroom door, Clay pointed out where she would find toiletries and towels before turning around to leave her to it.
For reasons she couldn’t explain, and didn’t really want to put a name to, Mac wasn’t ready to let him go just yet. "Clay?"
The husky lilt of her voice stopped him dead in his tracks. "Yes?"
Walking over to him she placed her hands on his chest before shyly meeting his eyes. "Thank you...for everything."
Taking one of her hands from his chest he slowly brought it to his mouth, barely brushing her knuckles with his lips. "You’re welcome, Sarah."
More than a little breathless, Mac watched as he dropped her hand and backed away before walking down the stairs without looking back. Only then did it seem her lungs would start working again, when he was gone and away from her. Shaking her head slightly, as if to clear it, Mac began stripping off her wet clothes on her way to turn on the shower.
Turning it on as hot as she could, steam immediately began billowing out of the enclosed glass area. It was a beautiful room, all chrome and glass and wide open space. The masculine feel wasn't lost on Mac as she closed her eyes, trying to imagine Clay here. But it wasn't his image that would come...instead a tall athletic build appeared in the glass enclosure. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes, dazzling smile...
"Damn it!" she cursed herself and him. Why couldn't he leave her alone? Why did he have to haunt her life the way he did? Why wasn't she stronger?
Stepping into the pounding spray, Mac felt helpless as all of her earlier emotions came flooding back with a swiftness that was almost physically painful. She was torn in a million different directions, her mental battle waging itself out on her body. She scrubbed furiously, trying to wash away that which no one could really see on the outside, the emotion she despised more than all the others...weakness.
She had fought this particular demon for years and she hated it. Hated it because it always seemed to win. The booze, the abuse, Eddie, Chris, John Farrow, Dalton, Mic. And then there was Harm. Harm was the addiction, the weakness, she couldn't get over no matter how hard she tried.
Angry; she was so damn angry. Not even necessarily at Harm any more, but angry at herself. When had she become this weak, this fragile, this...needy?
The answer was as simple as it was frightening. All her life.
She’d been that way all her life, from the time she’d been old enough to understand that the fairy tales she’d dreamed of as a little girl didn’t exist. Somewhere along the line she’d lost sight of that. No, the cold hard reality of life was that people that you care about, get too close to, always leave. That some people weren’t meant to have ‘happily ever after’. That you could never change what you really are, even if you try to hind behind a mask...or in her case a uniform.
Her uncle had cleaned her up, washed off the filth, and convinced her for a short time she was worth something. She’d worked hard, going farther, working harder than either of her parents had ever done. Joining the Marines, going to college, to law school, Mac had built herself up from nothing. She’d began building walls so high, so thick...that she’d never really realized that she was actually building them on sand.
When she came to JAG headquarters almost eight years ago, Mac was as firmly entrenched behind those walls as she had ever been. She was at a good place in her life...after a series of bad mistakes that had lead to some questions about her integrity. She wasn’t proud of what her and John did. The guilt had gnawed away at her until finally she had to leave to get away from it. But she had left it all behind and was starting over. Her career was on the right track, so what if her personal life was a mess. She didn’t need anyone but herself, right...
Then she had met Harm.
From the moment they met it was a constant battle for control. Control of her life. Control over her feelings. Control over his feelings. Control over their jobs.
Their relationship grew and morphed so many times, that by the time one or the other was ready to acknowledge that something was happening between them, it changed again. But through it all she always thought she knew him, understood him. And vice versa. That’s why she was having so much trouble comprehending how he could do this now...but not at all shocked that he had. It was the enigma that was their relationship. She was all prepared for the bitter disappointment that came with loving him. It had become a permanent part of her life since she’d met him.
They had both thought it was a good thing, tearing down walls, worming their way in, letting each other see things that no one else had ever seen. Looking back, though, maybe it had been the worst possible thing. Why would he want her, knowing what he did about her? Why would anyone want her for that matter? She was an alcoholic, the daughter of an abusive, womanizing drunk. Some would argue that she was basically a whore, giving it out to anyone and everyone that showed any interest in her.
‘But what about the good things?’ that little voice in her head whispered in vain.
So what if she was a Marine Lt. Colonel? So what if she’d seen combat and fought for her country? So what if she’d won medals for bravery? All of that didn’t change the fact that everyone she loved always ended up leaving her. If she were so great, why was she always the one left with nothing?
Why couldn’t Harm just love her?
Closing her eyes Mac laid her cheek against the cool ceramic tiles, no closer to an answer than when she started.
Clayton Webb was waging his own silent war downstairs. Setting the kettle on the burner, Clay mumbled to himself at the injustice of it all as he wiped down the marble area around the sink. Mac was here with him, finally, and it had nothing to do with her wanting him. He’d been pursuing her for months, trying to persuade her to just give him a chance. And what is it him that finally pushed her to call? No, it was all because of Harm, Harm and his uncanny knack for screwing things up with this particular woman. "Great. This is just grand," he growled, pitching the dishtowel onto the counter.
It wasn't that he was upset that she had called him; he’d do anything he could for her. He was upset that every time he tried to catch a break with her it seemed like he was bucking fate. While in Paraguay he’d let his emotions for her show for the first time. Why then he had absolutely no clue. Maybe it was the close quarters, maybe it was her courage and loyalty. Maybe because from the moment they’d met he’d been a little bit in love with her. Whatever the reason he would have died for Sarah Mackenzie, was prepared to die for her.
But here they were now. They had made it out alive...mostly because of Harmon Rabb, Clay grudgingly had to admit. Riding in on the proverbial white horse, Harm had charged in there to save the woman he loved, the woman they both loved. After it was all over, and the dust had settled, it had looked like Harm accomplished his goal. He’d taken the gamble, took the risk, and won.
So then why, after all that sacrifice, would he be stupid enough to throw it all away by sleeping with someone else? It didn’t make any damn sense. Of course most things with these two didn’t. And god, were they ever slow! It had been nine months since they’d left South America. What the hell were they waiting on?
"Oh well, Rabb’s loss is my gain," he said, trying to sound more confident than he really felt. After making his way back upstairs to his bedroom, he quickly changed clothes, before picking up his wet things and heading to the bathroom off of his own room. Running a comb through his hair he caught a glimpse of his bathrobe in the mirror. Grabbing it, he walked back out, stopping at her door.
Hesitating only for a moment, Clay rapped twice on the door. When there was no answer he tried again before cracking the door just enough to hear any movement. All he heard was the shower still running. Figuring he was safe enough to hurry in and leave the robe for her, Clay pushed the door open and made his way in, trying not to disturb her.
Placing the hunter green terry cloth robe on the vanity, Clay did his best to ignore the fact that there was a very naked woman, standing not ten feet away in the shower, one that he happened to be very attracted to. Eyes averted, he fingered the soft material. It would be too big for her, his robe. His mind worked furiously to try to ignore what she would look like in it, what it would be like to take it off of her...his hands gliding over her smooth creamy skin. That soft...satiny, olive colored flesh. Squeezing his eyes shut against temptation, Clay turned abruptly with every intention of walking straight out of there before he did something really stupid.
Taking a step toward the door, he was startled to hear the shower shut off. Out of reflex he looked up, and what he saw stopped him cold and caused the fire to flare inside him all at the same time. Standing before him, in the very see-through shower stall, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Mac was oblivious to her surroundings and to the fact she was no longer alone. Tipping her head back, she slicked her hands over her wet hair and squeezed, trying to draw as much moisture out of her hair as she could. Even after her hot shower her muscles ached. All of the tension of the day seemed to have settled in her back and shoulders. She tried to work the kinks out and as she did, her chest jutted forward, her back stretching. Only then did she hear the muffled gasp come from across the room.
Instinctually, Mac tried to cover herself until she met the startled but hungry eyes of Clayton Webb.
It was unavoidable, the heat that infused her body. He was looking at her, devouring her with his eyes. It felt so good, after everything that had happened tonight, to feel wanted, to be desired. Opening the shower door, Mac stepped out in front of him, beads of water running slowly down her body.
It was overwhelming, the flame of desire that sparked with just one look. He wanted her, she needed him, and the demon inside of her laughed wickedly at the prospect of winning another round.
Steps were made by both and when she was close enough he reached for her, his arms wrapping around her waist and drawing her against him. Her arms immediately encircled his neck as their mouths met in a hungry kiss. It wasn’t gentle, it wasn’t loving. It was hard and demanding and so desperate. Her still wet body clung to him, her fingers spiking into his hair to hold him to their kiss. When their tongues met he groaned into her mouth as his hands drifted lower over the firm round curves of her bottom.
The next instant she was being lifted and set on the high bathroom counter. It was cold against her damp skin but she didn’t care. There was heat everywhere else and that’s what she wanted to concentrate on. There was no Harm, no Mac, no Webb...just the heat. Concentrate on the heat, she kept telling herself. All that matters right now is this moment, this feeling. It doesn’t matter who you’re with as long as you can feel again...
They broke away for air and her hands immediately flew to the buttons on his shirt, opening each one frantically. When it was finally undone her legs wrapped around him, drawing him in closer. The tips of her breasts rubbed sensuously against the light spattering of hair on his chest, and both groaned at the contact as their lips met again.
Just as his hand covered her breast the high pitched whistle of the tea kettle broke them out of the passion induced frenzy. Reality hit both of them at the same time with the impact of a sledge hammer, where they were, what they were about to do.
Looking up at each other at the same time Clay saw the desperation and fear in her eyes and mentally chastised himself. She didn’t need this tonight. She was hurting, and he knew this was more than likely a knee jerk reaction to what had happened with Harm. Closing his eyes, he sighed, letting his hand fall away from her breast as he pushed back away from her.
Panic welled up within her, threatening to choke her. "Clay...please. Please don’t...don’t back away," she pleaded, even as her legs were falling away from his waist.
Cupping her cheek in his palm, Clay traced her bottom lip with his thumb. "Then say it. Tell me this has nothing to do with Harm. Tell me that if Harm had been alone tonight we’d be right where we are now," he said, firmly, already knowing the answer.
She blinked and one lone tear rolled down her cheek. "I...I can’t."
Smiling sadly, Clay nodded. "I know." Leaning in to kiss her forehead, his lips lingered for a second before he stepped back out of her embrace. "Look, go ahead and use the robe. I’ll find something for you to wear and you can change in my bedroom down the hall. Then come on downstairs. I think we need to talk."
He waited until she nodded in agreement before leaving her alone.
He was just filling mugs when she finally made her way into the kitchen. Avoiding eye contact, she held out her hand when he extended the cup in her direction. "Come on, Mac. We can sit by the fire in the den."
Following behind him, Mac couldn’t help but notice he’d used her nickname this time. She was back to being 'Mac'. Somehow that said more about everything than any other words could.
They sat in silence in front of the fire, each one trying to figure out what to say. Taking a cautious sip of her tea, Mac let the hot liquid work its magic on her throat, before staring deeply into the dark brew.
"You know why I stopped, don’t you?" His voice was a little above a whisper but they were close enough to hear clearly.
"Yes," she answered. She knew why. It still hurt but she knew why. She’d done it again, let her mixed up emotions rule her head, and had again lost another good man because of it.
Sensing her doubting her self worth, Clay hurried on. "Mac, I would like nothing more than to take you upstairs and make love to you. I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember. But if we do that, with the way things are right now, won’t we always wonder?"
When she remained quiet he pushed again. "Have you even talked to him about this? Heard his side of the story?"
That got a reaction out of her and her head snapped up. "His side of the story? His side? Which side would that be? The one where he slept someone else?"
Trying to calm her down, Clay held up his hands. "I’m not condoning what he did, Mac. And I’m madder than hell that he hurt you. But...if there is ever more between you and I, I don’t want Harmon Rabb in the middle of us."
"I know. It’s just I...I’m so confused. For the last four or five years my life has been slowly spiraling out of control. Somewhere along the way I...I lost myself. First it was Harm leaving and then there was Mic. I look back on my relationship with Mic and god, I can’t see any of me there. It was all him. Him pushing, him deciding, him calling the shots. And I did it. I went along with it all."
Standing, Mac paced in front of the fire, Clay watching on as she dealt with her memories. "Do you have any idea what it’s like to realize you’ve become a god damn doormat?"
"Don’t you think that’s a little bit harsh, Mac?"
Mac gave a disgusted snort. "Is it? I begged Mic not to go the night he left, begged him to stay because I didn’t want to be alone. I even told the son of a bitch I loved him because I...I was afraid. Why, damn it? Why am I so afraid?" By the time she had finished the tears were streaming down her face.
Clay would have given anything to take her pain away, to bear it for her. But he was also aware that there were deeper issues being dealt with than just Harm and what happened tonight. Standing he reached for her again, meaning to comfort her.
Abruptly she jerked away from his touch. "No! Don’t touch me."
"Okay, I won’t. But...it’s alright. It’s okay to cry, Mac. And it’s alright to be afraid," he soothed.
"I don’t want to be afraid. I don’t want to be needy. I don’t want to feel worthless. I just...can’t help it!" she choked on a sob.
This time he did take her into his arms while she cried. He held her until the storm had passed, until she was able to calm down on her own. When she looked up at him the concern for her was evident in his eyes. Her heart swelled with the knowledge he cared so much. "I’m sorry, Clay. I never meant to unload all of this on you tonight. But this is me, this is who I really am. Scars and all."
"All of us have scars, Mac. No one makes it through this life without pain. Especially in our line of work. No one can be happy all of the time, and there are no guarantees. There are a couple of things I do know for sure, though. I know that I care about you very much and that you care about me. But, I also know that you love Harmon Rabb. Mac, you have some decisions that you need to make, but in order to do that you need the whole story. Go to him, figure it out, take all of the time you need. And when and if your...decision is me, I’ll be here. If it’s Harm...I’ll understand that too. You need to finally find peace with yourself, Mac. Until then...you’ll never be happy."
She stared at him, humbled by the strength of character he had just shone. It would be very easy to love this man. He had his flaws just like everyone else, but underneath it all, he was a good man. "Clay, ever since we...upstairs...you’ve called me ‘Mac’. Why not ‘Sarah’?"
"Because, ‘Sarah’ is for when...if you choose me. Until then, I’m your friend, Mac. And no matter what happens I always will be."
Overwhelmed with emotion, all she could manage was a heartfelt, "Thanks."
With one last hug her reassured her. "You’re welcome. Come on, you need some rest. Why don’t you head upstairs and take the guest room?"
"Umm, Clay, I think I’d rather call a cab and head home. I...really need to be alone."
"Are you sure you want that, Mac?" he couldn’t help but ask.
"Yeah, I’m sure. I need to think, and I really need to do it on my own turf, so to speak." When he looked doubtful, she smiled at him. "Really, Clay, I’ll be fine."
It was the first real smile he’d seen all evening and he relented. "Okay, I’ll call for you."
Twenty minutes later the cab pulled in front, and Clay was walking her out. "The offer still stands, Mac. If you need me, for anything, I’m here."
"I know. Thanks again, Clay."
"No problem. Just...take care. And, Mac? I meant it. Talk to him. You owe it to yourself to know the truth."
The fear flashed again in her eyes, but was quickly hidden once more. "I...I’ll try. That’s all I can promise. Goodbye." And with one last kiss, she was gone.
As the car pulled away and drifted off into the night, taking her away from him, Clayton Webb hoped that he’d made the right choice...for all their sakes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
So you live from day to day,
and dream about tomorrow.
And the hours go by like minutes,
and the shadows come to stay.
So you take a little something to make them go away.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Mac watched as the sun made its way slowly into the sky. The sun rose and the world came alive once again. She had always loved the sunrise. It was so beautiful, so peaceful A time for rebirth and renewal. It was the third day in a row Mac had watched as its bright, rainbow of colors filled her apartment. They splayed across her white walls like splashes of paint, casting the room in a soft glow.
She had spent the rest of Friday night here, all day Saturday, Sunday, and that’s how she planned to spend this morning. She had already called the Admiral yesterday and secured the day off. Maybe it was the tone of her voice but he had given in to her request without question, for which she would be eternally grateful. She really didn’t want to have to explain why she needed to pick up her car while Harm wasn’t there.
Turning her face up, Mac let the rays warm her face through the picture window. After all of the rain it was a good feeling, one of the few in the last few days. But even the beauty of the early morning wasn’t enough to warm her up to the idea of moving away from the window to answer the phone.
She knew who it was; he had been calling since Friday. After the cab ride home that night, Mac had entered her apartment to the shrill ring of her telephone. A quick glance at her caller ID had confirmed what she already knew and her machine had shown messages waiting. Ignoring it all she walked straight to her bedroom, stripping on her way to another shower, the need to be clean blocking everything else out.
She couldn’t understand it, this need to be...clean, to be cleansed. She’d done nothing wrong, had she? Why should she feel guilty?
Pushing all thought aside she’d finished and dressed in the most comfortable clothes she owned. She had no one to impress, and she sure as hell had no plans to go anywhere for the next few days.
And that’s how she had stayed for the next two days, living on nothing but coffee and feeding off of her memories.
And through it all he had kept calling. She’d listened to them all, all of the messages, each one breaking her heart a little bit more.
He sounded so lost, so sad, so....broken. He asked, he pleaded, he begged for her forgiveness and for her to call and let him know she was alright. Through it all she listened, even as the tears tracked down her cheeks...but she never answered. She couldn’t.
Even though she knew Clay was right, she just couldn’t bring herself to talk to him right now.
Time...she needed time. Time to think. Time to heal.
Or at least time enough to build those walls back up again before he could scale them. Maybe by then she would have the strength to talk to him.
Before she knew it, it was after eleven o’clock. Sighing loudly, Mac stood making her way over to the phone.
It was time to go.
Harm stood where he had been almost constantly since the early morning hours of Saturday. He knew he looked awful. He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept, afraid he’d miss her. She had to come back sometime, and he had been determined to be ready when she did. All weekend he had tried to call, tried to find her. When he still hadn’t heard from her last night he called the Admiral to ask for Monday off. He had expected his commanding officer to balk at the last minute request but was surprised when it had been granted without any resistence, for which Harm was grateful. He really didn’t want to explain to the Admiral why he really needed to see Mac.
After what had seemed like weeks of standing watch at this window, but had really only been a couple of days, Harm finally saw the vision he’d been hoping for when a cab pulled up and Mac stepped out. Not waiting, he ran from the apartment, catching the stairs two at a time on his way down.
Bursting through the door, Harm was shocked to find Mac standing there, staring at his building. She was propped up against her car, as if the weight of her body were just too much to bear.
Caught off guard, she stared at him, her mouth hanging slightly open. As he took a step toward her panic welled up, choking her. Her throat worked furiously but no sound would come out. There was nowhere for her to go with the car behind her. Close...god he was getting too close.
And then he was there, standing so near that she could feel his breath on her face. His fingertips began tracing over her delicate features; over her eyebrows, down her nose and across her cheekbones. Like a snake to the charmer she felt herself falling under his spell.
Soon, his lips were following the path his fingers had taken, his thumb finally passing over her bottom lip an instant before his lips met hers.
Her body jumped as if struck by lightning when his hands tangled in her hair, drawing her closer. "Mac...oh god, Mac...I’m....so...sorry..." he whispered raggedly between frantic kisses.
Too much. It was too much. Drowning...she was drowning, unable to breathe, unable to claw or fight her way to the surface.
They were both caught by surprise when her mental struggle for control finally made its way into reality. "No...no, NO!" she shoved him away roughly. "No..."
Stunned, he stood there panting.
For a long time they just stood there, eyeing each other.
Finally, she couldn’t take the silence any more. "Why...why are you here? I thought you’d be at work."
Suddenly finding his feet interesting, Harm shrugged his shoulders as he answered. "I didn’t want to miss you."
"So you asked the Admiral for the day off?" she asked indignantly.
His own anger started to rise along with his voice. "Yeah. Is that so hard to believe? I’ve been trying to call you all weekend, Mac."
Crossing her arms over her chest defensively, she looked away before speaking. "I know."
The sinking feeling was back in his gut. "You know?"
"Yeah, I know. I heard the messages...all of them."
"You were there. You were there but you didn’t answer." His voice was quiet now.
"Yes," she chose to answer, even though he hadn’t asked a question. He knew.
"Then you know how I feel, how sorry I am. Mac, I just wanted to explain..."
She cut him off before he could continue. "No. I don’t want to hear it, Harm. You don’t owe me an explanation."
"But, Mac, I..."
She went on, interrupting again, looking off at some point just over his shoulder. "You don’t, Harm. You don’t owe me anything. We aren’t a couple, you didn’t ‘cheat’ on me. There’s no reason for you..."
"Damn it, Sarah. Stop!"
Her focus jerked back up to his face. "Don’t call me that," she said, her voice shaking. "You don’t get to call me that."
"Oh, I don’t get to call you that but Webb can? Is that it?" he practically shouted. "Only certain people get that privilege? Or is it just the ones that make it into your be..."
"You finish that statement and this dance really is over, Harm."
The eerie calm of her voice stopped him cold. He took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control. "Look, Mac," he started, more cautious this time. "Please, let’s just go upstairs and talk. I want to tell you what happened that night. I need to tell you. Please."
When he reached for her again it was finally more than she could take. "I...just can’t...do this right now."
"Mac, please. We need to work this out..."
"No. I need to get away from you." Shaking her head furiously, Mac brushed away his touch as she got in her car, locking the door behind her.
The gesture was wasted on him though as he stood by, helpless and unmoving, and watched her speed away.
She drove faster than she should have, father and farther until she had absolutely no idea where she was. The sights were unfamiliar in this seedy part of town, but Mac really didn’t care. Tears blinded her vision as she continued to flee. Street signs ran together, buildings looked the same. Dive after endless dive drifted into view, all of them offering her the chance, all of them giving her a way to escape, even if it was just for a little while.
But still she drove.
With the seed of temptation planted the ache started out dull, then built and built until it was a constant pounding in her head, in her chest. It robbed the breath from her lungs. There was only one thing she knew would make it all go away. Only one thing...only one thing...
But still she drove.
Bud reached for the telephone on the table beside the bed, trying to get it before it woke up Harriet. "‘lo?" he barely managed, his voice slurred with sleep.
"I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering is this a...Bud Roberts?"
"Um...yeah. That’s me. Who is this?" Bud urged, instantly on alert.
"My name is Owen. I’m a bartender down here at the Stagger Inn."
Still somewhat confused, Bud asked, "The where?"
"The Stagger Inn. I have someone here that could really use a ride home and they asked me to call you."
"Who?" Bud turned white as a sheet when he heard the name on the other end. "Give me the directions."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I could have done so many things, baby,
if I could only stop my mind,
from wondering what I left behind.
And for worrying about this wasted time.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Sturgis rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he looked into the peephole to see who was pounding on his door this late at night. What he saw made him briefly close his eyes and mutter both a curse and a thank you.
Swinging the door open he saw her standing there in the hallway, shaking like a leaf, her eyes wild.
Sturgis knew, without her saying anything, this was about Harm. Harm had called earlier to tell him about what had happened; she knew about the other night and had reacted exactly as he knew she would.
"Come on in, Mac," he said, taking her hand and carefully gliding her through the door.
"I’m sorry, Sturgis...I didn’t know where else to go," she whispered through chattering teeth.
"Don’t worry about it," he soothed, moving her toward the sofa. "You’re shivering. You cold?"
Nodding yes Mac sat, immediately drawing her legs up to her chin, her arms wrapped tightly around her bent knees. When she felt the quilt go around her shoulders her eyes met his in silent thanks.
Even though he didn’t know much about Sarah Mackenzie, her erratic behavior struck a familiar chord. Her eyes kept darting around the room, her body jumping at the slightest sound or movement. Cautiously Sturgis sat beside her, certain he had a pretty good idea what was happening. He'd seen a lot of things in helping his dad. "How long has it been?" If he was right, Mac would know what he was asking.
She sat there so long that Sturgis didn’t think she was going to answer, but finally heard her small voice say, "S...six years."
"Mac, that’s incredible," he encouraged her.
Vigorously shaking her head no, she ground out, "I wanted one...tonight. I want one now, Sturgis. I need a drink really bad."
"I know you do. But you didn’t take it, Mac, and that takes guts. It means you’re stronger than it is. It means you win." He paused a moment before asking, "You want to talk about what happened?"
"N...no."
"Alright, Mac. It's gonna be alright." He placed his arm around her shoulders, rubbing her arms to make her feel safe, to keep her warm...and distracted which, he had a feeling, is what she really needed.
Bud Roberts’ knuckles were white by the time he reached the seedy little bar. Pulling the car to a stop he glanced up, looking at the rickety, wooden sign swinging ever so slightly in the breeze. The bold letters over a half empty beer mug told him this was the place.
With a deep breath and a somewhat nervous look around, Bud exited the car, walking as fast as he could to the door. Entering, Bud looked around, struggling to see through the smoky haze. He finally spotted Harm at the end of the bar, staring into the half empty glass in front of him.
Pushing his way through the still crowded room, Bud finally made it over to the man he considered not only a superior officer, but a friend. Although, this didn’t look like the man he knew. With his shoulders slumped, his head hung low, Harmon Rabb looked only like a shadow of his usually confident self.
Bud hesitated slightly before reaching out to tap Harm’s shoulder. "Sir?"
Harm looked up, meeting Bud’s eyes in the mirror behind the bar. Bud gasped, shocked by what he saw staring back at him. The haunted eyes that met his made the hair on the back of his neck stand at attention. This was a defeated man and even though he didn’t know what had happened to Harm to drive him to this point, Bud was determined to help him, no matter what.
Unable to stand the pity on Bud’s face Harm looked back down at his drink, mumbling over his shoulder, "Take a seat, Bud."
Again Bud was hesitant. "But, Sir...don’t you think we should just go. It looks like you’ve had enou..."
"This is only my second one."
At Bud’s incredulous expression, Harm went on. "I mean it. I’ve been sitting here for...god I don’t even know how long I’ve been here. But I haven’t been...this is only my second one," he repeated.
"Then, Sir...why did Owen say you really needed a ride home if you haven't been drinking…that much, I mean?"
Harm couldn’t help but be amused. "Because I really do need a ride home, Bud. I...I was just walking and happened to wander in here. The only thing is I have absolutely no fucking clue where here is."
To say that Bud was shocked was an understatement. He could count on one hand the number of times that Harmon Rabb had said anything worse than the occasional ‘damn’ or ‘hell’. Something was really wrong.
"Besides, Owen over there," he pointed down the bar, "came in for his shift after I had been here a while and wouldn’t believe me that this was only my second drink."
"Well, honestly, Sir, can you blame him? You look like shit," Bud blurted without thinking before his eyes grew big.
Instead of being offended, Harm actually laughed. "Well, that’s a relief. At least I look as bad as I feel."
"I didn’t mean to insult..." Bud rushed into an apology.
"It’s alright, Bud. I’m not upset with you. In fact it's nice to hear an honest..." Just then the chirp of his cell phone broke into their conversation. Glancing at the display he saw Sturgis’ number.
Quickly he opened the phone and answered, "Sturgis, have you heard anything?"
Harm listened as Sturgis sighed loudly. "Yeah. I talked to her."
"Well, is she okay? Did she..."
The voice on the other end cut him off before he could go any further. "Harm, I talked to her. She’s...she’s here actually."
"She’s there?" Harm was a little shocked by this news.
"She got here about an hour ago." There was a pause, before Sturgis continued. "She’s in pretty bad shape."
The tone of Sturgis' voice had warning bells going off inside his head. "Oh no. She didn’t..." Harm couldn’t get the rest of the words out.
"I assume you’re referring to her taking a drink."
Realizing Sturgis couldn’t see him shaking his head Harm verbalized his "yes".
"No, she didn't."
Relieved, Harm blew out the breath he had been holding. "Thank god." When Sturgis offered no more information, Harm pressed. "Is she going to be okay?"
Sturgis had to really work at keeping his anger under control. "I think so. She was a total wreck when she got here. She hadn’t had anything to drink, but she really wanted to."
Not needing to hear anything else, Harm told him, "I’ll be there as fast as I can."
"Wait, Harm. I don’t think that’s such a good idea. She’s finally asleep and I really don’t think you being here is..."
"Sturgis, please. You don’t understand. I need to see her. I need to make sure..." Harm pleaded.
"No, you need to give her some space. Look, Harm, I know how you feel right now. But you need to stay away. I only called you because I knew you were worried about her and because you’re my friend. But friend or not, we both know she deserved better than this."
It was as close to an 'I told you so' that Sturgis could get without actually saying the words, and Harm didn’t have a response to it. Another minute went by in silence before Sturgis promised him he'd take care of her and disconnected the call, all before Harm could offer up any more protest.
Shutting off the phone, Harm placed it back in his pocket before staring at the drink in front of him once again.
Through it all Bud had watched and listened, drawing his own conclusions. Despite what everyone might think, Bud Roberts wasn’t completely clueless. "You want to talk about what happened between you and the Colonel, Sir?"
The denial was on the tip of his tongue, but Bud’s knowing look told him not to bother. "Hell, I don’t know. I thought I did. That’s why I had him call you. But now…I’m not sure."
That was one thing that Bud didn’t understand. "Sir, I’m confused. Why did you call me. I would have thought you’d call Cmdr. Turner?"
Harm gave another short humorless laugh. "Because he’s pissed at me. Chewed my ass up one side and down the other earlier. With good reason too."
Wow. If Cmdr. Turner had lost his temper with him, Harm must have really screwed up. "Good grief, Sir. What in the world did you do?" Bud asked in the way only Bud could.
"More than I can ever make up for, Bud." Without finishing his drink Harm stood, throwing some money on the bar before moving toward the door. "Let's go."
"What’s the hurry, Sir?" Bud asked, trying his best to keep up.
"Because I have somewhere I really need to be."
Sturgis didn’t even have to look this time when the knock sounded on his door; he’d been expecting it. Hell telling Harmon Rabb NOT to do something was like waving the red flag.
"I thought I told you to stay away," he offered in way of greeting.
"I ignored you," Harm replied stubbornly.
"I see that," Sturgis stated blandly, crossing his arms over his chest.
The two men faced off, neither wanting to back down.
"Give me one reason why I should let your sorry ass in here."
Without hesitation Harm gave him an answer. "Because I love her." When it still seemed like Sturgis would still turn him away he urged, "I swear, all I want to sit with her awhile. Then I’ll go; I promise."
Pushing the door open further, Sturgis relented, stepping out of the way to let him in.
Hands in his front pockets, Harm followed his friend over to the couch where Mac lay peacefully sleeping. After everything that had happened Harm still couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. She was so beautiful. He’d never told her that but it didn’t mean he didn’t think she was.
Wanting to give him a little privacy, Sturgis spoke softly, "I’m going to go ahead and try go back to sleep. Let yourself out when you’re done."
Harm barely acknowledged him, instead going to sit in the chair across from her.
Shaking his head at the craziness of it all, Sturgis turned toward the bedroom.
Keeping his promise Harm just watched her sleep, never touching her, even though the urge was sometimes overwhelming. His fingers itched to brush that strand of hair off of her forehead, but he didn’t. Instead he comforted himself with her steady breathing, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. He watched as every once in a while her lashes would flutter on her cheeks. He took in her slightly parted lips, the way her hand curled beneath her chin as she snuggled down further into the quilt. So peaceful...
Inevitably, the fatigue in his body would be denied no longer and sleep claimed him as well.
The next sensation Harm was aware of was that of being watched. Coming awake with a start, Harm opened his eyes and was immediately captured in a sea of rich, warm chocolate. "Good morning." Her voice was still husky from sleep.
Harm wasn’t sure he could believe what he was seeing, let alone hearing. She was sitting up, the quilt still around her shoulders and she wasn’t smiling but the anger from before wasn’t there either. Now, she just looked tired. "Morning," he replied, cautious, sitting up straighter in his chair.
She chewed on her lower lip before asking him, "Did you sit there all night, Harm?"
Bending forward, Harm rested his elbows on his knees. "Yeah. I was going to leave before you woke up but...I guess I fell asleep too. It's been a long couple of days."
He was definitely the king of the understatement. "Harm, what are you doing here? He told you not to come." There was no reproach in her voice, just a weariness she couldn’t hide.
She must have heard their conversation last night. "Don’t get mad at Sturgis, Mac. I all but forced him to open the door."
"I’m not mad at Sturgis. I’m not even sure I’m mad at you any more." The look of relief was evident on his face but when she saw him start to open his mouth she stopped him. "Don’t. I said I'm not sure. I didn’t say I was ready to talk about it either. Harm, my emotions are a mess, up and down and all over the damn place. I reacted to this whole situation so badly. I’m...I'm so ashamed of myself."
"Mac, you have nothing to feel..."
She cut him off. "Oh yes, I do, Harm. I did a lot of things I’m not proud of."
"So did I, Mac," he said softly.
Mac nodded in agreement, looking down at her folded hands. She knew he was sorry for hurting her, but right now it seemed like a moot point. "We both have a lot to work out, and I know there are things we’re both sorry for. But I meant what I said, Harm. I need some time. I know we’ve wasted a lot of it already, but there are...I have some things I need to think about, some tough choices I have to make. And I can't make them with you around me all the time. Maybe someday we’ll be able to talk about everything that's happened. Until then though, I think it’s best if we...I think we need to just leave all of this alone for the time being, call a truce and hope it works itself out. Then maybe someday, if we’re still willing, we’ll be able to work at being more. Does that make any sense?"
He didn’t like it, but if that was all she was willing to offer he’d accept it, for now. Taking her hand in his, Harm gave it a gentle squeeze before meeting her eyes, begging her to understand. "I...I’ll do anything you want me to. Whatever it is. I just...I still need you, Mac."
Mac understood completely. "I know. God help me I still need you too." But even with the admission, deep down in her heart, she knew that it would be a hard, if not impossible journey back to each other.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A love has come and gone,
And the years keep rushing on.
I remember what you told me
Before you went out on your own.
Sometimes to keep it together
You’ve got to leave it alone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Harm’s Office
Three Months Later
Harm sat at his desk, staring at his appointment book.
There it was, the date he had both dreaded and anticipated for the last five years, circled in dark red ink.
Tomorrow was A.J. Roberts’ fifth birthday.
Tomorrow his life would change forever, whether for the good or bad still remained to be seen. Actually a lot of things remained to be seen, most of all what would become of his sad and pathetic excuse of a love life.
God, he had never been this miserable.
Everyday seemed to be an uphill battle: with his job, his friends, and especially with Mac. He had expected the coolness from Sturgis, after all he was the only one who knew exactly what had happened. Everyone else, including the Admiral, seemed to be leery of him, somehow knowing he was the reason for the sudden discord in the office right now.
Harm could have cared less. The only person’s opinion he was really worried about was Mac’s, and right now she was barely giving him the time of day.
After they had talked at Sturgis’ house he had honestly believed that they would be able to get back on track because it seemed like every other conversation they’d ever had over the years. Mac had forgiven him, well maybe not in so many words, but she had said that she wanted things to work themselves out.
There was only one problem; she wasn’t letting him even try to make things better between them.
He had tried, repeatedly, to get close to her again. And each time he was met with a soft smile and a refusal. No more dinners, no more laughing, no spending time alone together. Always ‘no’.
It had been so long since they’d gotten together, for dinner or anything else besides talk on a case, and even that was done in the safe confines of their offices. They hadn’t talked anymore about the night that seemed like a lifetime ago. Nothing. Seeing each other here, in the office, was about all their relationship consisted of these days. And while Mac wasn’t cold, she wasn’t entirely open to his advances either.
No matter how hard he tried it was always the same, and Harm couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that time was running out. Somehow he had to figure out how to get her to give him just one more chance. Just one.
They’d both be at the Roberts’ tomorrow for A.J.’s party. Maybe, just maybe, it would present him with the opportunity he was looking for.
Mac, for all her bravado, wasn’t faring much better. She put on the brave face for everyone; Bud, Harriet, the Admiral, Sturgis, Clay...and especially for Harm.
On the outside she was everything she was supposed to be; the calm, cool and collected, kick ass Marine Colonel. On the inside she felt like her life was being stripped away layer by layer, piece by piece, leaving her raw and exposed.
She missed him, she was forced to admit. He was really trying, trying to push his way back in, to get through her defenses. Every day had been a struggle. Three months worth of saying no, when all she really wanted to do was give in. But giving in just seemed...wrong. On a fundamental level she knew it was wrong. The emotional landslide of the past seven years had finally buried her under a mountain of guilt and the broken pieces of her life and she just couldn’t seem to claw her way out of the rubble.
So, after weeks and weeks of indecision, and a lot of self-introspection, she made the only choice she could live with. She’d had a long talk with the Admiral, and after much deliberation, they both realized that this solution was what was best for her. As her commanding officer he wasn’t happy, and really neither was she, knowing the implications it would have on her career. However, there just didn’t seem to be another option. But as her friend A.J. understood where she was coming from. Too much time had passed, too much water had passed under the bridge. If she were ever going to heal, if she were ever to start truly living again, she needed to get away from the hurt, away from the pain...away from Harm.
Seeing him every day was a constant reminder, of what they had and what could have been. Every time she turned around he was there, always there, and like the addict drawn to temptation she was still drawn to him. It was almost unhealthy, this pull she felt toward him. He clouded her judgment, ensnared all of her senses, totally consumed her thoughts. There was no Mac anymore; she couldn’t feel any of the old Sarah Mackenzie left inside. No all that was left was a jumbled mass of feelings, of emotions she had no control over while he was only twenty feet away.
And little A.J.’s approaching birthday had just solidified her decision. There was no way that she could deal with their baby deal on top of everything else. She’d harbored the idea of copping out and telling him she was dating again, that she was in a relationship and that their contract really was null and void, but couldn’t find it in her to flat out lie to him.
Even though she had stayed in contact with Clay, he had respected her need for time. They talked on the phone when she wanted to, had the occasional dinner, but it was all very platonic. He seemed to be willing to let her decide on her own what she wanted and for that she was grateful. But he, like Harm was not privy to her current plans. The only ones that knew were the Admiral and Harriet.
Looking up her gaze immediately met his, watching her through their office windows. The look of longing in his eyes pulled at her heart, and the urge to weep threatened to overwhelm her.
That was another thing she couldn’t stand. She wanted to cry, all of the time! The constant compulsion made her furious, seeing it as a sign of weakness. She had no idea how to stop it though, what to do about it. This wasn’t her. This had never been her.
She had learned early on to never show weakness, to bury her feelings, to not let people in because they’d only leave you in the end. Don’t show them the pain they caused. Don’t give them that kind of control. But it hadn’t worked with Harm. She’d let him in and look where it’d got her, hurt and alone.
Her heart hardened a little more but still she offered him a small smile. It wasn’t fair to lead him on but she couldn’t seem to make herself be cruel. And even though it killed her she knew that leaving was the right thing to do. She had to go, she had to, because staying would destroy all that was left of her heart.
And some how, some way, she’d have to make him understand that too. And she needed to do it before Sunday and it was too late.
Taking her smile as an invitation, whether intended that way or not, Harm made his way over to her office. Eye contact was never broken. Even his soft knock was unnecessary.
Without words she waved him into her office, both dreading and anticipating whatever he was about to say.
"Hey," he said, almost embarrassed.
She wanted to chuckle at his uncertainty in approaching her but held back. Instead she answered, "Hey."
Looking everywhere but at her, Harm tried to work up the courage to talk to her, a task he'd never found difficult until recently. "I was...I was just wondering...would you like to go with me to the party tomorrow," he finished in a rush.
It was on the tip of her tongue to deny him yet again, but the panic in his eyes was enough to give her pause. When his softly spoken, "Please say 'yes'," made its way to her ears she found herself giving in.
"Alright."
One word. Only one word from her and he felt his whole day get a little bit brighter. "Really?" he asked, almost too afraid to believe she meant it.
The ghost of a smile playing on her lips, Mac nodded. "Yes, really."
"Okay." As he turned to go, something made him stop mid stride. "Mac?"
"Yes, Harm?"
Not knowing whether to push his luck or not, he threw caution to the wind and made the plunge. "Maybe...maybe after the party we could...talk."
Her dark eyes clouded and Harm was sure he'd pushed too far.
"Yeah. I think by tomorrow we're going to need to," she answered, knowing that time was rapidly running out.
Harm pondered her cryptic answer but chose to accept it at face value. She had agreed and that's all that mattered. He knew if he could just get her to listen, to accept his apology, they would be able to get past this and move on together. "I'll pick you up tomorrow then."
Not trusting her voice at that moment Mac gave her assent.
He didn’t have to wonder anymore. Time had finally run out.
She was leaving.
It was announced at the party, surprising everyone but the Admiral of course, and Harriet. At least no one else had known; he wasn't the only one in the dark. If it was any consolation, Mac looked just as shocked at the impromptu announcement. That thought, somehow, didn't make him feel any better though.
The day had been going well enough. Mac was pleasant, smiling and laughing with him. It was the most at ease she had been in his presence in a long time and Harm had felt the relief that immediately washed over him. The there was something else about her though, something he couldn’t put his finger on, but he didn’t let himself dwell on it too much. He was enjoying the day too much to try to name the underlying tension he sensed every time her eyes met his.
They had celebrated together, laughing at their animated godson’s birthday antics. Everything seemed so simple in those moments. This is how it would be for them someday, sharing their child’s joy with their friends. At least, he hoped that dream would someday come true.
When the wrapping paper had been cleared away, the candles blown out and the cake cut, the Admiral cleared his throat to get their attention. "If I may, while you’re all here. I have an announcement to make."
Harm’s ears had perked up and Mac tensed beside him, causing a slight tingle to run down his spine. How he knew, he couldn’t say, but Harm knew whatever their C.O. was about to say would somehow change the course of his life.
A.J. didn’t disappoint him.
As the announcement of her impending leave rang through his ears, Harm felt like he had been dealt a fatal blow in a prize fight. The light that had once shown brightly in his life dimmed and threatened to flicker out with just one sentence.
They hadn't talked about it. In fact, absolutely nothing had been said to each other after that. After the news had been delivered Mac ignored the well wishes and handshakes and had turned to face him, expecting a confrontation that never came.
The simple fact was he was incapable of speech at that moment and he’d done the only thing he could do. To the sound of her softly calling out his name, he had turned and walked away. With hastily given farewells he’d left the Roberts’ house as fast as he could, not even acknowledging the curious and sad looks he received from his co-workers.
Harm continued now to drive toward home, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
He’d wanted…needed, to get away from her, to escape the hurt and betrayal he felt, even though her eyes revealed that that wasn't her intention.
Why hadn’t she told him? Was this payback? And then there was the even bigger question: what now?
He had to do something; it couldn’t end this way. She had to know how he really felt, before it really was too late. And, without a doubt, he knew he was the one that had to take that final step, because she had already shown she wouldn't. That knowledge alone was what gave him the courage to turn around, drive to her apartment, and knock on her door.
There was an eerie silence on the other side of the door. No stirring sounds; no rustling. She should have been home by now, checking his watch, guilt creeping in at the thought that she'd have had to find another ride home. He knocked again and waited. Still nothing. "Mac are you in there?" Dragging his keys out of his pocket, Harm searched for a key he hadn’t used in a long time.
When he entered the apartment the first thing he noticed was that everything was packed up, neatly stacked boxes lining the bare walls. She had leased the place furnished so all of the furniture was still in place, but the whole apartment was now devoid of any signs of Mac.
All at once reality hit him hard. Helplessness swamped him, his chest tightened, his breathing became labored. He had no idea where she was now but the possibilities were too awful to contemplate.
Backing up, he reached behind him, fumbling for the handle. He needed to get out of here, needed to run away from the glaring reminder of all that he’d lost.
Mac stood outside her door, searching for her keys. It had taken her about ten minutes after he’d drove away for her to call a cab and offer her goodbyes. Celebrating was the last thing she wanted to do right now.
She'd never meant for him to find out that way, the Admiral had said that he would make the announcement in the Monday morning staff meeting. She'd though she would have the whole weekend to say her goodbyes and get her affairs in order.
Webb already knew; she'd told him over dinner the night before. While he was sad to see her go, he seemed to understand her need. They sat quietly, just enjoying their last evening together. It was sweet, it was tender, and Mac had a hard time saying 'goodbye' when the night came to an end. With a tender hand on her cheek, Clayton Webb had kissed her, letting her know that the door was still open should she ever decide to enter. To say she was even more confused would have been nothing less than the truth. He'd placed a note in her hand and with another kiss on her cheek, had walked away.
Tonight though...tonight she had wanted to clear the air with Harm, to see if they could salvage anything between them. She wanted to talk about their promise...damn! She hadn't counted on the Admiral saying anything. Maybe the Admiral had thought she was going to try to leave without saying goodbye. Maybe he thought that she already had and it was safe. Whatever the reason, it was out there now and Harm had looked devistated.
The coward in her was relieved that he’d left. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to work it out with him; she did. But everything was still so...raw. As irrational as it was, even after three months, the wounds were open and exposed. For some reason she just wasn’t bouncing back like she had from the other times he’d hurt her. This time just seemed…different. But the rational side of her, the nurturing side, still needed him and wanted to take that hurt away. She'd been so tempted to go to him after the party, to stop by his apartment, to try, but...
Sighing loudly and shaking herself from her musings, she looked back down at her hands. Finally finding the right key, Mac slid it into the lock at the same moment the door flew open.
"Harm..." "Mac..." their exclamations came at the same time.
They both stood there in shock, not knowing what else to say or how to proceed. She thought about saying something lame such as, "What a surprise," or "What are you doing here, Harm," but didn't. She knew exactly why he was here.
"I'm sorry I just...let myself in," he stammered, nervous about her reaction to his invasion of her personal space. To his surprise she didn't seem bothered by it at all, and he took that as a good sign. Stepping back out of the way, he let her enter.
"It's okay. We...we needed to talk," she replied, eyes downcast.
"Yeah, we do," he agreed.
The silence grew between them before Mac finally suggested, "Why don't you take a seat and get comfortable. I'll...I'll make some tea." Without waiting for a response, she turned and fled to the kitchen.
Harm blew out an unsteady breath. This was awkward as hell, and he hated it. After sitting for another ten minutes he was starting to wonder about her when she finally exited the kitchen with two mugs. Her look was apologetic and Harm accepted it with a smile.
They took turns sipping their drinks, both trying to work up the courage to start the discussion.
He had just about worked out the whole speech in his head, all of the questions in eloquent sequence. But when he opened his mouth only one word made it past his lips. "Why?"
Mac answered the only way she could. "Because I have to."
Taking her hand, more as a comfort to himself than to her, he tried to reason with her. "Mac…I know that...that I hurt you, but you don't have to leave. If you really want me to stay away from you I will, but I...I don't want you to go."
The emotion in his voice was thick, and Mac could tell he was struggling for control. She understood it, because she felt the same way, but tried not to let herself be completely distracted by it. "Harm..." Drawing in a deep breath, she started again. "Harm, I know this might be hard for you to understand but this is something I need to do. You promised to give me space and..."
"I have given you space," he countered.
Shaking her head sadly she continued, looking down at the mug in her lap. "I know you think that because we're not spending as much time together as we used to that you're backing off, but you haven't, Harm. Even being in the same room with you is sometimes too much. I just...I don’t think you understand. I can't think when you're close, it's distracting...seeing you everyday, knowing that you're always there. And I desperately need to think, Harm. I need time to figure out what's happened to me...why I can't get past this."
Confused, Harm sat his mug on the coffee table with one hand while his grip on her hand tightened. "Which part are you having trouble getting past? The "us" part? The fact that I slept with someone else? Or is it…something else?" 'Or someone else,' he thought miserably.
His quiet questions rumbled around in her brain. She desperately wanted to tackle the big question, the "us" part. But a niggling thought caught hold of her and wouldn't let go as she took her hand from his and stood up to pace in front of the coffee table, separating them.
"You know, maybe it has nothing to do with you," she said, even though she knew it did. "Maybe I'm just tired of living my life by what people expect of me." Warming up to her subject she plowed forward. "Maybe, for once, I'd like to decide on my own what I want and what I need and not have a man, or my screwed up emotions, dictating my life for me!"
Harm gaped at her, caught off guard by the ferocity of her tirade.
Seeing his bewilderment, written all over his face, only made her angrier. "But now that you mention it. While we're on the subject of "us", just once, I'd like to have a conversation with you that I didn't feel like I have to choose my words carefully, or tread lightly, to avoid a disastrous outcome. Maybe, just maybe, I'd like to be able to speak what's on my mind without having to worry if you're going to run screaming into the night."
His wide-eyed look of panic only lent credence to her words. "So, here it is laid out for you, so there's no misunderstanding. I've wanted to be with you for as long as I can remember; not just sex, but really with you."
Harm felt like his throat had turned to sandpaper and a lead weight had settled back in the pit of his stomach. "Mac..."
"No," she cut him off. "I've held this in for too long, and damn it, you're going to listen," she pointed at him. "I've watched you go from one woman to another, waiting until you 'let go' or get over whatever the hell it is you need to get over. I've lived through your obsessions, one right after another. I've lived through you telling me 'no' but having no problems getting into a relationship with someone else. Then, after Paraguay happens, and we finally start getting closer again, I finally decide to take the chance. I finally decide to come to you...and I find you in bed with someone else. Damn it, Harm, I can't do this anymore!"
Harm was on his feet in the space of a second. "Now wait a minute. I'm not going to take all of the blame for everything that's happened between us, and what's happening now. You've still never let me tell you what happened that night. And I've tried to work things out with you before, so don't act like you're the martyr in all of this. Especially since this is the first time we've both ever really laid it on the line at told each other exactly how we really feel," he stated defensively.
Mac crossed her arms over her chest. "So, enlighten me, Harm. Tell me why you felt the need to sleep…" she caught herself. "Tell me what happened."
Harm gulped, trying to organize his words carefully so as to cause her as little pain as possible. "I…I came back to the office that night, to persuade you to go out with me. I was going to cancel with Sturgis and finally…try to set things straight…between us."
Mac felt her blood slowly begin to simmer again. "Then you want to tell me why you didn't and ended up in bed with that...that woman?"
Her reaction triggered his. "I did! I came back and heard you...talking on the phone with Clayton Webb."
The color started to drain from her face, remembering her conversation on the phone that night. "You were…you heard?"
"Yeah, and you sounded pretty damn cozy from where I was standing."
"But…I…I told him that I couldn't go out with him," she stammered.
"You did?" he asked, incredulous.
"Yes, I did," she ground out.
The wind seemed to leave his sails all at once. "I guess I didn't stick around long enough to hear that. I just left as fast as I could. I…I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut. All I could think about was you, and him, together. I've never felt anything like that in my whole life, Mac. Not even with Brumby."
"You were jealous," she stated flatly.
"You're god damn right I was jealous!" he thundered.
"So, you took off and found someone else? I don't get it, Harm. How did you get from there to little Ms. Bed head? Was she someone you already knew? Was she one of the reasons you've been keeping me at arms length ever since New Year's?" she practically shouted.
"What?" he asked, unable to keep the hurt from seeping into his voice.
Mac noticed but went on anyway. "Is she why you've practically been avoiding me since January?" she demanded, speaking slowly, her voice deadly calm.
"No, I didn't know her. I was drunk and she...she was a waitress there at Benzinger's, and that was the first time I'd ever laid eyes on her." He quickly changed the subject. "And we've seen each other almost everyday, Mac. How do you figure it that I was avoiding you?"
She left the drunk comment alone and decided instead to answer his question. "Oh come on, Harm. We haven't spent an evening alone together since that night."
"It wasn't because I haven't asked, Mac. We were both busy and then it just never seemed like the right…" he cut off, not wanting to finish that statement.
Mac finished it for him. "Time?" When he mutely nodded, she continued. "What makes you think it ever will be?" she asked, unable to meet his steady gaze.
Those words, uttered long ago, now haunted both of them.
When he spoke the words shook her to her foundations. "Because I love you."
Her head snapped up like a whip, her eyes staring into his. She expected to see surprise; surely he hadn't finally been brave enough to speak those three words. But the truth was there, written in every line of his face, in the ever-changing color of his eyes.
Like the steady beat of a drum, the dance began. The longer she stood there, looking at the longing in those blue-gray eyes, the easier it would be to give in...to fall…
When he stood and made his way over to her, her body went rigid. She wasn't ready to be this close to him yet; her defenses were still down. "Harm…"
He was going to touch her, and if she let him, she knew it would be over.
She willed her feet to move, but they stayed rooted in place.
It shouldn't be this hard, damn it! She should be stronger than this. Why wasn't she stronger...
When he was close enough, his fingertips feathered across her cheek, before cupping it in his palm. "I do, Mac. I love you. I don't expect you to feel the same but I couldn't let you leave without knowing that. No matter what I've said or done...or haven't done, please...please believe that."
She shouldn't give in...but oh god she wanted to, even if it was just for tonight. "Harm…I…I'm not ready to say…"
"I know," he whispered.
Choking on a sob, Mac grabbed him by the shirt front. "Damn you! You're not playing fair!"
He would have laughed if he thought she was really trying to be funny. She wasn't. Another "I know," was all he offered.
"Damn you," she muttered again before pulling him down, roughly, for a kiss. Catching him off guard, Harm fell into her, pushing her back toward her door.
Hitting the hard surface behind her, Mac was sent reeling, her world thrown off balance by his assault on her senses. Gasping, her lips parted underneath his. Harm seized the opportunity to explore the inside of her mouth, his tongue brushing lightly against hers.
A combustible need, greater than she had ever known, swept through her like a brush fire. Everywhere he touched her the flames spread until there was nowhere left for it to go. The heat was so unexpected…and yet so familiar.
After all of the talking, after covering so many things, she had expected things to be more than a little awkward. With the tension building all this time, their first real sexual encounter should have been a bit more uncomfortable, right? Seven years…going along as they had been, flirting and dancing around the issues…occasionally stealing the passionately restrained embrace and kiss. Both feeling the urge to go further, but both afraid to do so, hindered by all of their fears. A nagging voice of doubt was trying to work its way through the foggy recesses of her mind. This was wrong…it was wrong to give in when she knew she'd have to leave him in the morning.
She ignored it. She was going to give in. Deep down she knew, before it had even happened, that there was only one way this night was going to end.
As the kiss drew on though, becoming passionate and urgent, she couldn't help but be worried by her response to him. With his hands behind her head, holding her firmly in place, controlling the pace of the kiss, she was completely at his mercy. Even if she had initiated it, he was now in charge, something that was unacceptable to her.
Releasing her grip on the front of his shirt, her hands skimmed up his shoulders, massaging lightly before working up toward his face. Gently she caressed his cheeks as she continued to kiss him back.
Finally, the need for air caused them to break apart and Harm leaned back. With hands braced on the door beside her head, he looked down at her. She could feel his unsteady breath on her face as he exhaled and it only seemed to add fuel to the fire between them.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, taking in her swollen lips and the deep flush on her on her skin.
Her eyes became wide, not expecting the heartfelt compliment. That light in his eyes was finally for her and Mac felt herself fall a little bit further. He was hammering away, breaking through all of her defenses and her traitorous body seemed to be hell bent on surrendering, no matter what her mind might be shouting. When his lower body rubbed against her it was all she could take.
"Take me to bed, Harm," Mac moaned softly. No more thinking, she told herself. This is what she had always wanted, right? So damn the consequences, she was going to have it. She'd deal with the fallout later.
Impossibly, his blue eyes became black as midnight. Trying to still be a gentleman, Harm laid a barely there kiss on her lips before resting his forehead against hers.
"Mac…are you sure…"
"Shhh…" she placed a finger to his lips. "No more talking; I don't want to talk anymore. Just for tonight I…just want us…just this…" she trailed off as that same finger traced a line down his chin, then his neck, before opening each of the buttons on his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. Hooking her finger in the waistband of his jeans she gave a little tug, pulling him closer.
His right hand moved then to grip her hip, squeezing it, before tracing its way along her left side. When his thumb brushed the underside of her breast she gasped. "Just for tonight?" he asked, his voice husky, his body drawn even tighter by her audible response.
"That's all I have to give, Harm" she replied sadly, her fingers playing in the soft spattering of hair on his broad chest. "It's up to you to take it…if you want to." 'Please take it', her body screamed.
He only hesitated for the briefest of seconds. "I'll take whatever you'll give me, Mac," he answered, hoping against hope that before the night was over he could change her mind and make her stay.
Harm groaned when her hand skimmed over his zipper. "Mac…Christ…"
"Shh...No more words, remember?"
Instead of answering, his lips found hers again with a growl as he grasped her hips and lifted. When her legs wrapped around him, he had to brace himself again, the action almost sending him over the edge. His infamous control was almost non-existent at the moment.
Making his way clumsily into her bedroom, he briefly opened his eyes and was a little taken aback at the stark state of the room. These walls were bare as well, another reminder of what was at stake here.
The only thing that screamed "Sarah Mackenzie" was the islet, white and lavender comforter. So feminine, so…Mac. Harm had learned a long time ago that Mac was more than just a Marine, her soft, womanly side was an endless source of intrigue to him.
Sensing a change in him, Mac pulled back to look at him. There were so many questions to be asked, so many things to be decided, but right now nothing seemed to matter except being with him. Maybe then her decision would be easier. On the other hand, maybe it would make it impossible. Right now she didn't give a damn.
When he reached the bed they fell together, limbs tangling sensuously. Their bodies strained to be closer, to feel as much of the other as they could.
For Mac it had been way too long; there had been no one since Mic, and Harm's touch was the sweetest kind of torture.
Touching everywhere he could from her shoulder to her knee, he resumed kissing her while she responded with a similar motion, her hand mirroring his on his body. Breaking from her lips, he placed little nips along the long column of her neck, working down the side of her throat. Mac let out a soft sigh when he licked the patch of skin where her neck and shoulder met.
Propping himself on his elbow, Harm gently pushed her onto her back on the bed. He gazed into her eyes, seeing most of what she was feeling reflected there. "You have the most incredible eyes," he murmured as he let himself drown in their bottomless depths. "I love your eyes…they always say so much…" Using his index finger he traced a line down the buttons of her silk blouse, through the valley between her breasts. What little breath she had left her in a rush when he deftly began to unfasten the buttons, one by one.
Parting the fabric, Harm skirted his fingers along the lace cups of her champagne colored bra. They then tickled up the strap, causing her to shiver, before pushing it down and off her shoulder. His lips soon followed the path, then back through the valley of her generous breasts, only this time not stopping until he had blazed a moist trail down the flat plain of her stomach to the waistband of her jeans.
Finding himself suddenly impatient, he popped the button and lowered the zipper, immediately grabbing the sides to pull them down her long legs. Mac was more than eager to help him, lifting up to allow him easier access.
Tossing them over his shoulder, Harm turned back, sucking in some much needed air at the sight of her. The soft moonlight streamed through the window of her bedroom, making her skin almost glow. She looked like a goddess.
Mac tried to keep from squirming under his intense scrutiny. Years of self doubt flooded to the surface. Was he pleased by what he saw? Somehow he seemed to read her thoughts, and rubbed up against her. Judging by the hard lump bumping her leg, he was more than pleased.
Twinges of desire shot to certain areas of her anatomy. Repositioning her legs, Mac cradled him between her thighs, allowing them to lay full length against each other, snuggling close. They remained like that for a while, their bodies touching, until Harm could no longer ignore the almost painful need he had for only her...
After it was all over they just laid there, silent, enjoying the afterglow, spent and content.
"Thank you," he finally said, quietly.
For the first time since this had started, Mac began to feel the guilt creeping in on her. "For what, Harm?"
"For allowing me to make love to you, for allowing me to hold you. Whatever has happened so far...you're still all the answer I'll ever need, Mac." He kissed the top of her head gently. "I love you."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She hadn't said anything back to him. In fact she had kissed him again to make him stop talking, to try to make him forget. They had slept for a while and then made love again, the second time more amazing than the first, and even more bittersweet.
The night drew on and the closer they came toward the morning.
Sleep eluded her now. Her mind worked furiously and her inner demons rejoiced.
Another battle lost.
Laying there, with her back to his chest and his arms wrapped around her, Mac tried to keep the tears at bay.
Guilt swamped her.
It had finally happened, they were finally lovers, but Mac felt none of the peace she had always hoped she would. It still didn't seem like they had said enough last night. That was her fault though, right? She was the one that forbade the words.
'No words...remember...'
Even though she would never regret what had happened, she would always regret the weakness with which she had given in to him.
If anything good had come out of this, though, she'd finally realized it wasn't all his fault, her feeling like this. But if it wasn't him...then it had to be her, and that meant the problem was still there.
There was still only one solution.
One lone tear escaped, falling silently to her pillow.
The morning sun seeped out from behind the shades in the bedroom.
Harm had once teased her about getting out of the dark ages and getting mini-blinds like everyone else. She had laughed along with him, but inside she had winced at the fact that she might have to reveal why she actually had them. Sleep had always been a rare commodity for her. Many nights she lie awake, willing sleep to come, and when it finally did it was in the wee hours of the morning. The shades had been a way for her to siphon just a few more moments of precious sleep before she had to start the rest of her day.
But not now. Now they were there to block out the reality of her messed up life. Out there the sun was shining bright on a new day...on the day that she had to get on a plane and leave.
She’d debated with herself for hours.
Should she say goodbye? It would be so much easier to just leave, to let him sleep and remember their night together just as it was.
That scenario was cruel. That wasn’t the way you treated someone you cared about let alone...loved.
Yes, she still loved him, had never stopped really. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to ease the ache in her heart. And what did she really know about love, anyway. Last night had been an act of desperation, on both their parts. It was past time they faced that fact. Sex never changed anything, it only made it more complicated.
She knew he was awake, his breathing alerting her. They both remained silent, lying in each others arms, just wanting to hang on to a few more moments of peace.
Slowly releasing her, she turned on her back and looked up at him. He could see the unshed tears, clinging to her lashes, could see the unspoken emotions in her eyes. It was then that he realized that the only way to keep her...was to let her go.
The old cliche tumbled around in his brain, but it didn’t ease the anxiety he felt. If he set her free and she didn’t come back...he wasn’t sure how he’d deal with that. Everything inside him screamed to beg and plead, to do anything he could to make her stay...but his heart seemed to understand what she needed.
Somehow he knew her decision without ever hearing the words. She was still leaving.
He had made a promise to himself last night as they’d drifted off to sleep. Whatever she decided, he’d support her. No matter how much he wanted to he wouldn't push. Now, whether he could really do it would be the true test.
Without words they made love one last time, the intensity of the coupling staggering them both, as they said ‘goodbye’ as lovers.
He had held her while she cried afterward, determined to be whatever she needed him to be. He had then helped her gather her things and had followed her around the apartment making sure everything was as it should be before she left.
They talked only of details...
Where was her stuff going? Into storage.
Why do that when he would be happy to keep it for her until she was ready for it? Reluctantly she agreed.
Where was she going? She didn’t want to say.
How could he get a hold of her? She’d call him when she could.
What if there was an emergency, with either her or here? There would be a way.
And now, on the ride to the airport, they were too preoccupied in trying to fight the feelings that were threatening to push their way to the surface to actually have the conversation they needed to have.
Looking out the window, she was oblivious to the passing sights. Her focus was internal, being torn between loving this man and wanting to stay...and knowing that the only way she could ever move forward was to be away from him. It may hurt like hell, but in the long run, it would be the only way to be sure. Whether he understood this or not she was doing this as much for him as for her.
Harm stared at the road ahead of him, unable to deal completely with the fact that she was still leaving him, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself he was alright with it. And he had insisted on driving her to the airport, even though she had protested. Nothing, short of a natural disaster, would have kept him from accompanying her.
He still had so many questions to ask, but the one that lingered was, after all they had shared last night…how could they ever make things right if she was gone? Would they ever survive this? They’d been apart before and made it through, but this just felt...different.
Maybe she was right; maybe it would never be the right time for them.
Sensing her eyes on him, he briefly looked away from the road to meet her gaze, before turning back. She had something to say, he knew it, but part of him didn’t want to hear it.
She didn’t give him the option.
"I don’t expect you to wait," her voice came out as barely a whisper.
They both knew she wasn’t talking about the airport. "I want to wait."
"I meant..."
He cut her off. "I know what you meant, Mac."
They were now sitting in the unloading zone, neither moving. The silence was almost deafening, and before she could change her mind she smiled a sickly smile at him and jumped out of the car.
Before he could move, she had her bag out of the back seat and was rushing in toward the terminal.
Stunned, it only took a split second for him to jump into action. Not caring if they towed it away, he bolted out of the car after her, not bothering to take the time to even close the door.
"Mac!" he shouted, dodging passengers in his way to get to her.
Ignoring him, she kept running, his voice echoing through the hollow corridor. ‘Run,’ she told herself. ‘Run, Sarah...’
"Mac...please!"
She stopped abruptly. She shouldn’t do this to him. This was goodbye, for a while or forever, she wasn’t sure. But she needed this...he needed this. Turning, she saw him, stopped not thirty feet away. Waiting.
At the same time they moved, and all at once she was in his arms. There lips met in a kiss so passionate it stole the breath from her lungs. Observers would say it looked like the final scene from a love story, the happily ever after...for surely these two people were in love. No one kissed like that and walked away.
But as the tears streamed down her face, Mac realized that this is exactly what she needed to take with her.
Hope.
The hope that maybe when her search was over, her dreams really could come true.
Dragging his mouth away from hers he held her tight to his chest, stroking her hair as he soothed her. Finally, with a finger under her chin, he made her look at him.
She spoke first, hoping to halt any declarations that he might make. "I meant what I said, Harm. I don’t expect you to wait for me. I don’t know when..."
"I’m not going anywhere, Mac. I’ll be here, waiting...until you tell me there’s no reason to," he promised, stroking her bottom lip with his thumb.
When a tear made its way down his cheek Mac reached up and caught it on her index finger, as if it was a precious gift.
"You aren’t the only one crying this time, Mac," he assured her.
"My name is Sarah," she admonished softly.
Managing a weak smile, he agreed, this time feeling he was the one who was blessed. "Sarah...I love you."
Leaning on tip-toe, Mac whispered in his ear before kissing his cheek.
Closing his eyes, Harm took a deep breath. Again, before he could react she was gone, making her way through the security gate without looking back.
"Miss. We’re ready for take off."
Mac nodded as she buckled her safety belt, her gaze then drawn out the small window.
Her hand clutched a tattered piece of paper in her pocket, a scribbled phone number on it. ‘Anytime, anywhere,’ it said.
The other information she clung to was in her head, of memories and a phone number she would never forget.
As the plane took off, toward the west, Mac leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
So you can get on with your search, baby,
and I can get on with mine.
And maybe someday we will find
that it wasn’t really wasted time.
The End