Notes:
A/N: Just a little AU piece of fluff. I’ll do anything to keep Mac away from Webb. I made up most of the background stuff. Its all just a stage for Harm to do his thing.

Whisper of Love
Part One

2100 hours
Dec 29, 2004

The Ritz-Carleton
1150 22nd St, NW
Washington, DC

Armed Services Holiday ball

It’s been and insane week, an insane month, matter of fact, an insane year. If anyone had told me at this time twelve months ago that I would have had a year like this I would have seriously considered resigning my life and becoming a beach bum somewhere. That or I would have handled a whole lot of things a whole lot differently. The latter seems more likely. Not that I don’t like beaches. With the filthy weather going on outside of this overly warm room lit by candle-laden chandeliers, I could really use a beach right now. I have an idea Mattie wouldn’t object either, but the way her eyes are shining it looks like this adventure into the formal side of my profession is going to keep her head spinning for a while.

I’m not certain how I even rated an invitation to this ball. It’s the equivalent of an ‘A’ list event in civilian life. All the movers and shakers get their invites first. There are a few reserved for fast track officers. The ones who are expected to go all the way. A few more are reserved for those who’ve shown some amazing potential without really doing anything yet, this group always includes a dozen or so highly noticeable ROTC members from schools all over the country. Then of course there’s always the brown nose brigade. Invitations that are secured by powerful officers for their favorite flunkies.

For the most part though, you either have to be top notch brass, or part of a stellar team to rate an invitation. I can’t even begin to imagine how I fit into any of those groups. I’m certainly not fast track. I may not be any track at all. And since I only returned to JAG six weeks ago, I can hardly be considered a member of the team. I’m barely paid any attention at all most of the time.

Before I resigned, when perhaps my little trick with the dirty nuke was still in the forefront of anyone’s head, it would have been too early for my name to hit this year’s list. If that incident were going to rate, I would have been invited last year anyway. Nope that can’t be it. The names of invitees are usually blocked out about the time I was stuck in a third world jungle, flying a bunch of spooks around and trying to keep us from getting shot down by ground fire.

So why am I here, and why did the Admiral secure me an invitation? Mind you, this one was in my name, not just one of those nameless courtesy invitations. Mine had my name and rank clearly engraved on the face. ‘Commander Harmon Rabb Jr. and guest.’ In the three weeks I’ve had to think about it, I still haven’t been able to figure it out.

I ventured a casual inquiry of the Admiral when I received it. He just gave me a sharp look, and in a sharper voice told me, “Don’t be ungrateful, Rabb. Some people would kill for an entrée to this event.” Then he turned and stomped off, demonstrating once again my innate ability to ‘piss off’ a superior officer just by existing.

So I did what any good officer would do, I had my winter dinner dress uniform cleaned. It’s seldom been used, and it was a bit musty from hanging in the back of the closet. I had no idea who I would ask to accompany me. My personal favorite would have been Mac, but she’d shot me down long ago and far away. There was just no current acquaintance that I wanted to be associated with seriously enough to escort her to such a high level party.

Then Mattie happened to me. All of a sudden she was mine. Well not legally, not finally, not yet, but with Mac’s help I became a father. It wasn’t the kind of fatherhood I’d imagined with Mac five years ago, but, nevertheless, I was a father. A father in training to be sure, but all the same the responsibility is mine. At first Mac’s reaction was so caustic I figured she’d show up at the hearing just to shoot me down again. I almost fell out of my chair when she said the things she did. I was even mores stunned when she went to Tom and talked him into requesting a reversal of the judge’s decision.

Since I couldn’t begin to consider refusing this event at the late date, I did the fatherly thing and took Mattie shopping for a new dress and all the other girl stuff. We went to Nordstrom’s the Sunday after Christmas. What a zoo. I was ready to go home after the first half hour. But we fought our way through the crowd on the first floor, managing to escape to the third floor, where, as Mattie put it, the really good party stuff was kept.

We sort of wandered around lost for a bit. She would pick a dress and I’d reject it in a panic. She is only fourteen after all. Then I’d pick a dress and she’d just give me this tired death stare as if I were some kind of backward oaf. We must have been watched, because after about ten minutes I heard a beautiful, warm, modulated voice from behind.

“May I help you?” she asked with all the courtesy and warmth I failed to expect in this situation.

I turned and found a stately woman, perfectly dressed, coiffured, and manicured, standing behind me. She wasn’t much taller than Mattie, and she was older than me, but not enough older to be my mother. Just that sort of lovely mature middle age that defies identification in secure, well cared for women.

“Uh…thanks,” I stuttered. “My…my daughter needs a dress for a formal event.” I waved to Mattie, standing nearby with a number that looked like a cross between Rita Hayworth and Beonce.

“How formal?” she asked with just a glint of humor for my discomfort.

“The…uh…the Armed Services Holiday Ball,” I answered wondering where this landed on her experienced list of events. This woman had the aura of having dressed woman for every kind of event the DC area had to offer.

“I see,” she looked impressed. “That’s not an easy invitation to get,” she commented, appraising me thoughtfully. “Navy?” she asked.

I nodded numbly. “How did you know?”

She just gave me a smile that seemed to know everything. “You look like Navy,” she answered cryptically. “Annapolis right?” she quirked an eyebrow. She was playing with me now.

“Class of 85,” I told her standing a little straighter.

“Wonderful, then the young lady needs something that will look perfect with the dark blue dinner dress,” she remarked all business. “Not red,” she shook her head at Mattie’s latest selection, “not with that hair. Why don’t you have a seat over there, sir, we’ll be back in a few minutes. Would you like a cup of coffee?” she indicated a cushioned seating area that boasted a small coffee service to one side attended by a young server.

“No, thank you,” I replied obediently taking the chair she indicated. If nothing else I know how to take orders from a superior and this was her domain.

Three quarters of an hour later Mattie had modeled three dresses chosen for her by this eighth wonder of womanhood. We rejected the first as too juvenile. Mattie is young but she’s definitely on the very edge of becoming a beautiful young woman. The second we all agreed was just a little beyond her age group. I suspect it was thrown in to see what I’d let her get away with. The third was perfect. Demure enough to present her properly, it was still sophisticated enough to make her noticeable. It was a perfect shade of light blue with a hint of green to bring out her red gold hair. She looked lovely even in sweat socks with her hair in a ponytail.

Claire, the woman who helped us, rang the charge that nearly crippled my credit card then escorted us to the second level and turned us over to another wizard in the shoe department. We left there with a pair of sandals that cost the equivalent of two weeks groceries, but I had to admit even I could imagine how perfectly they would look with the dress. As we passed the jewelry counter on the first floor I stopped when I saw Mattie hesitate.

“Do you like it?” I indicated a delicate necklace made of small irregular silver balls attached randomly to a fine chain.

“It’s too expensive, Harm, after the dress and all.” I think the odd situation of this expenditure coming two days after we began our formal association as father and daughter suddenly washed over Mattie and she was feeling embarrassed.

“Nonsense,” I told her. “It will look beautiful with the dress,” and I handed my plastic money to another clerk. ‘Who cares?’ I thought, ‘I can’t take it with me. Mattie might as well be happy.’

We were almost ready to leave when I remembered, “Uh, Matts, what about…well you know…uhm…unmentionables.”

“Unmentionables, Harm?” She looked puzzled by the phrase.

“You know, the stuff for…uh…underneath,” I explained blushing furiously. Doubtless, I could tease a full-grown woman and companion about her underwear, but this was a child and my daughter. Suddenly I was tongue-tied.

“Oooooh,” she responded, “those. Well I guess back that way,” she pointed to a department that she couldn’t have dragged me into with an elephant.

“Tell you what; I’ll hold your bags. You go get what you need,” I suggested, handing her my credit card, and planting myself firmly against a pillar.

“Thanks.” She smiled, looking a little relieved. “I’ll be right back.”

Ten minutes later we headed for the ice cream parlor on the second floor of the mall, and I gave the next hour over to explaining in detail the importance of the event we would attend later in the week.

“What about your hair Mattie? It’s probably a little late for that, but can you fix it yourself?” I asked hesitantly. I wasn’t trying to be a ‘girlfriend,’ but after all, I’ve been around enough women to know how they behave for an event like this.

“No problem, Harm. Claire made an appointment with her friend in the salon for Wednesday morning.” Mattie grinned impishly in pleasure.

I got the idea right then that Claire would become a mainstay of Mattie’s future if she stayed with me. Undoubtedly, there would be other events both military and at school where she would need the special kind of help that Claire had given today. Blessing my luck, I bundled her and her packages into the Lexus and we headed for home to enjoy the leftovers from Christmas dinner.

End of one

“So tell me about the young lady you adopted, Commander,” Varese brought me from my reverie.

“It’s not final, not permanent, not yet anyway,” I explained. “She was in need of adult supervision. I found her running a crop dusting service by herself after her father left town. I’m not sure of the entire story,” I prevaricated slightly, guarding Mattie’s privacy. “But Mac managed to convince several people that I’d make a suitable candidate for her care. Mattie and I hit it off when I worked for her, so here we are.” It was an oversimplification, but I think from the look in her eyes, Varese was reading between the lines.

“Colonel Mackenzie helped you get custody of the child?” she asked only allowing faint surprise to show in her voice.

“Yeah,” I shook my head. “Surprised me, too. I really didn’t expect it, but she came through for us.”

“Why not? I understood you were very old friends.” Varese’s concern seemed genuine not just surface curiosity.

“We were…we are,” I stumbled. “but…well…we sort of hit a rocky spot a while back.”

The beautiful woman before me just smiled secretly and nodded her head, her eyes fixed over my shoulder. It was puzzling, but at that moment Sturgis returned with my drink, distracting my curiosity. We chatted idly for several minutes about nothing of particular importance.

Varese glanced over my shoulder several more times while we talked, and finally I turned slightly, thinking perhaps Mattie was trying to get my attention. There, through the crowd, was Lt Colonel Sarah Mackenzie in her formal Marine dinner uniform. She was involved in a conversation with another officer I didn’t recognize, but just as I turned I caught her looking at me, then she quickly looked away.

“She’s been watching you, Commander, you should go talk to her,” Varese commented.

“Varese, honey…” Sturgis started uncomfortably.

“Nonsense, Sturgis. Someone has to do this,” she insisted.

“The Commander can handle his own affairs, Varese,” Sturgis tried to sound stern.

“From what I’ve heard he could use a little help,” she insisted. “Go on, Commander, she’s been watching you. Go talk to her.”

“I doubt that,” I demurred with a hollow laugh. My ears warmed slightly at the thought my personal life was being discussed on any level. “She’s involved with a spook,” I added with a trace of bitterness, “She’s probably looking for him. Have you seen him tonight?” I asked Sturgis.

“No, not tonight,” he assured me firmly. “I don’t think he’s coming. The Admiral escorted her in, but then they’ve pursued separate interests since they arrived. I believe it was merely a formality so she wouldn’t have to enter the room alone,” Sturgis admitted reluctantly, a hint of sympathy coloring his tone.

That Mac should be left to her own devices for any occasion in this manner was unacceptable, and the heat of indignation began to rise in me.

“I see,” I remarked, as a plan, formed slowly in my mind. A spark of desire rushed quickly through my body, outstripping my thought processes’ ability to keep up. “I wonder,” I mused. The energy from the flash of anger I’d felt on her behalf a moment ago turned quickly to something else.

“Only one way to find out, Commander,” Varese urged, much to Sturgis’ discomfort.

“Honey,” he tried again. “Why don’t we dance?”

“Good idea,” she looked archly at me, the suggestion more clear than what was happening in my brain.

Suddenly, I had a nearly uncontrollable need to have Mac in my arms. It’s happened seldom enough in our history, but I remember each time perfectly. The temptation was something I couldn’t quell this time, even after cautioning myself that she might shoot me down once again.

In a bygone era, formal balls were a primary grounds for courtship. I saw no reason not to see if it would work in my favor. After all nothing else had.

“By the way Varese,” I commented lightly, “If you’re going to try to rearrange my love life, you really ought to call me Harm,” I finished with a devilish grin.

“Works for me, Harm,” she smiled as Sturgis led her away.

His demeanor was clear that he disapproved of her meddling, but I’m not sure I found it all that offensive. Maybe I needed an independent shove down the right path. I’ve moved too slowly in the past, hesitated looking for the right moment. Something was calling to me from Mac’s direction, and there was certainly no one else in the room that remotely interested me. I had to dance with her, and I had to do it now. I had to have her in my arms, it was almost a primal need.

Slowly, I put down my glass and turned. She was still talking to the officer, but just then he looked across the room and excused himself. I have no idea where Webb was, but it didn’t matter any longer. He wasn’t here, I was, and she was all that mattered. As I walked toward her, she stood almost expectantly, watching my every move with an uncontrived, fundamental, allure that wouldn’t have allowed me to turn back if I’d wanted to.

I’ve seen her many times in formal civilian dress and I hope to do so again in the future. She’s an outstandingly beautiful woman and what she does for a slinky ball gown is probably illegal in half the world, but at this special moment, dressed in her formal uniform she was the most sensually charged, overwhelmingly attractive woman I’ve ever seen.

“Mac,” I whispered huskily, as I approached and entered too far into her space.

“Harm,” she breathed as she looked up at me.

“Dance with me,” I voiced it as a statement, but the inflection was still a request. My body projected a cloud of desire around her, and my heart beat wildly in my chest. Trying to cast my spell, I was at once being captivated by hers. I could feel it happening and was helpless to stop myself, nor did I find I wanted to. I wanted her. I wanted to dance with her until dawn, and for years beyond. I wasn’t sure what had happened to the fledgling ‘us’ of years ago, but this precise moment felt like a lost opportunity had returned.

She swayed slightly towards me then caught herself. We were both in uniform, this dance would be tortuously formal, and yet, though bound by the strictures of public displays there was still the sense that no one else in the world existed in this moment.

“Yes,” she finally breathed eons after I asked her.

I offered her my arm in the most perfect gesture of good manners, and led her to the ballroom. Spinning her once under my arm, I nestled my thumb between her curled fingers and surrounded her small strong hand with mine. The other hand rested on her hip, transferring far more than the benign intentions that our formal pose suggested. Gathering her as close as protocol allowed, I took her into the whirl of dancers.

Neither of us spoke with our lips, but millions of words were said with our eyes. I’m not sure how I kept my bearings in the whirl and gleam of medals, soft fabrics and candlelight. I saw nothing but her. The language of our bodies spoke to one another, the heat of sudden desire radiated between us. In another time and place this evening might end differently, but I was more than aware of the responsibility I had to a young woman in the next room. This could only last for minutes. I hoped in the span of time I was given that I could build a bridge to reconnect us in a way that would defy another breach.

I would never care to lose Mac’s friendship, but now I was certain I wanted more, and I wanted it now. I had to discover how my current situation would affect my desire. I had no idea how to handle it, but I had to let her know unequivocally what my intentions were towards her.

We continued as the orchestra segued into the next song. Barely missing a beat as the tempo changed from waltz to a slower two-step. My body was still casting desire and suggestion her way, and her eyes were questioning my purpose.

My breathing was deep, filling my chest with all I am, succumbing to a profound and basic male instinct in the presence of his chosen woman.

Her breath was short and irregular and had nothing to do with the exertions of the dance. She was feeling all I was sending her and she was barely resisting.

“Harm, what…?” was the incomplete question that tumbled from her luscious lips in a shaky whisper.

“I want you, Mac. God help me I want you. I want every inch of you,” my reply rumbled deeply, but it was nearly as insecure as her question.

“What for?” she questioned, still uncertain.

“Forever,” I replied simply.

She studied my eyes deeply for a long moment before nodding slightly.

In an instant I turned us quickly, brushing close enough to her to whisper, “I love you so very much,” in her ear.

As we moved out of the turn and separated slightly, her eyes filled. “Me too,” was the only response she felt comfortable speaking aloud in the overcrowded room.

I allowed my eyes to accept what she was telling me.

“How?” she asked again in the verbal shorthand we were using.

“I don’t know,” I replied with a hint of the frustration I felt. “We’re here and duty bound to stay for a while. While we’re in uniform, in public, I can’t even begin to show you my feelings,” I explained unnecessarily.

“I know,” she concurred. “Is…is this something that’s going to last? Beyond tonight, this minute,” she asked uncertainly.

“I said forever Mac, unless you don’t…” I faltered a little.

The conversation was bordering dangerously close to something that shouldn’t be overheard.

“I do,” she replied with her heart.

The full feeling of moments before returned in a rush, but now, instead of the impression of nearing conquest present in my demeanor of moments ago, there was a warmth of belonging that replaced it. Somehow, with a few sincere words, given a few moments without interruptions, in the middle of a crowded dance floor, we’d managed to recover all that had escaped us for years.

I didn’t even ask about Webb. If he were a factor, she would have said so. I’d recently begun to realize I might have misjudged that situation. Her acceptance just now made that fact evident. Both of us had made mistakes in our choice of partners, but neither of us was the type to disregard an established relationship.

The dance ended and the band retired for a break. “Have dinner with me?” I inquired, my eyebrow quirking, but my expectation was not of refusal.

“I’d love to,” she answered.

Turning towards the door we took two steps before looking up. Standing there watching us was my young ward, a puzzled look on her face.

At my side I felt Mac’s body stiffen.

End of three

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