Title: Careless Words
Author: Karen
Disclaimers: For any and all borrowing of copyright or trademarks used by my Harm and Mac dolls, I’m just playing. If I had any money, I’d have my roof fixed.
Notes:
My muse decided to take a short holiday without my permission but she dropped this in my lap on the way out the door.
Second part tomorrow. I promise you'll like it.
Be aware I've never seen the episode so if I have any facts wrong I apologize.
Careless Words
Part One
JAG HQ
Breakroom
Mid Morning
“So buddy, how was your trip to sunny California?” Sturgis Turner asked his friend with a slightly jealous smile. He leaned back against the opposite counter in the break room, as Harmon Rabb Jr. poured himself a cup of coffee. Single digit temperatures in the DC area for the last two weeks had made the entire office jealous of the coveted warm weather assignment.
“Not bad,” the tall lawyer smiled secretly, as he turned to his friend
“I take it from that smile, your mission was more than a success,” Turner probed, nudging the game of male one-upmanship a notch higher.
“You could say that,” Harm taunted his old friend.
“C’mon Harm, you’re holding out. Give it up my friend,” Turner urged.
“Not much to tell,” Harm smiled with annoying audacity, taking the game to the next level. “I gave her a check for 1.2 million dollars, and she gave me a kiss.”
“Harm, Harm, Harm,” Turner replied, shaking his head in exasperation, “one of these days those gold wings of yours are going to get you into more trouble than you can talk your way out of.”
“Hey why is it always my fault? I didn’t kiss her back,” Harm protested, still smiling.
He knew he hadn’t initiated the minor intimacy; however, he was secretly pleased that someone on the planet of the opposite sex still found him attractive. It was a concept he’d begun to seriously doubt. Recently, he’d found precious little reason to feel the rush of hormones, once constant in the cocky aviator of his youth. He was enjoying the moment shamelessly.
“Didn’t kiss who?” Lt Commander Bud Roberts frowned slightly, strolling through the door on a direct course for the coffee maker.
“Harm here got a 1.2 million settlement for the woman in California, and she gave him a kiss,” Sturgis supplied teasing his friend further.
“Really?” Bud deadpanned, as he turned from pouring his coffee. “Is that what it takes for you to get kissed these days, Commander?”
Sturgis choked and turned quickly to spit his half sip of coffee into the sink, barely missing his shirtfront. Bud calmly drank from his cup, watching the two men react.
Harm’s eyes widened at the younger man, disbelieving the remark had come from him.
“Bud I….I….” he stuttered, unable to form an ordered thought.
It took several long seconds for Buds face to break into a boyish grin. Proof that he was poking fun at his mentor.
A recovered Sturgis Turner laughed out loud at Bud’s audacity, while Harm found his grin, laughing heartily at his own smugness, as well as Bud’s deflating and very funny remark.
“I have to hand it to you, Bud,” Harm admitted, shaking his head, “you sure know how to take the wind out of my sails. I apologize, my comments were out of line to begin with, especially here in the office.
“Ummmhmmm,” Bud agreed, then added a faintly disturbed smile. “I should have figured your conversation wasn’t meant for all ears.”
“Why is that?” Sturgis asked warily.
“Colonel Mackenzie and I were headed here at the same time, but she arrived just ahead of me. Suddenly she turned and walked back to her office. She must have heard something she didn’t like,” he informed the two Commanders.
“Mac?” Harm choked. “She heard that. Christ!” he swore looking ruefully at Sturgis. “I’ll never explain this one. I’m dead.”
“Yes you are,” Turner hung his head, shaking it sorrowfully. His old Academy friend never seemed to open his mouth without inserting his foot.
Bud nodded agreement with the Commanders. Thoughtfully, he added, “I d say so sir, this won’t be easy to explain. I sincerely doubt 1.2 million dollars will work on the Colonel, even if you had it,” he commented acerbically as he sauntered from the room.
Sturgis turned a smile of empty encouragement on his friend, as Harm quickly set down his cup.
“Gotta go, Sturg,” the disconcerted Commander mumbled, rushing from the small room.
Mac’s office
That didn’t take as long as she’d estimated. Mac checked her internal clock when she heard the rough sound of a clearing throat at her door.
One minute and thirty two seconds early by her estimation. She glanced up disinterestedly, and gave him her tight professional smile. The one reserved for people she really didn’t want to talk to. His face froze, his expression that of someone just hit across the bare stomach by a very dead, very cold fish.
“Yes Harm,” she inquired, her voice could form icicles in hell.
“Uh….I….uh…Mac….I….I’d like to talk to you.” His mouth worked in close approximation to the demise of the aforementioned fish.
“Can’t,” she replied rising. “I’m due in court in two minutes.” The smile grew noticeably tighter.
Gathering her files, she walked directly towards his huge frame filling her doorway, causing him to step back away from her path. She believed in this moment he’d move heaven and earth not to touch her. If she took the wrong line with his comment, he could find himself the subject of very unpleasant discipline.
This was not the right moment to make a decision of that sort. In the end, she would probably ignore the entire episode, and he’d act as if it never happened, and they’d be stuck in another round of awkwardness and bruised feelings.
Wondering why they even tried anymore, she nearly missed the unanticipated light touch that stilled her movements a she passed him.
“Mac please, let me talk to you. I don’t want to do this again.” his voice awash with his desperate plea.
With a quick glance over her shoulder, her throat constricted at the look of misery on his face, and the remembered sorrow of these repeated verbal land mines. Could they ever stop it? She had no idea, maybe, but not here, and not now. She was only able to give a brief, curt, nod of assent, before she gathered her courtroom face and headed down the hall.
End of one
Okay get ready here's the mushy part.
MS 20 coming soon. Thanks for reading both stories.
Careless Words
Part Two
JAG HQ
Late afternoon
The afternoon session droned on, so stultifying she didn’t dare allow her attention to wander for an instant, or she would lose all track of the proceedings. There was no time to ponder the possibility of a conversation with Harm, in the unlikely event he actually tried to have one this time.
It was 1730, by the time her achingly dull case ground to a halt. The defense attorneys had caught a tongue-lashing from the judge for wasting his time in refusing a deal with the prosecution. The original deal was re-offered and accepted with lightening speed, and the seaman first class was escorted to the brig for 30 days. When she returned to the bullpen, nearly everyone in the office was gone. Computers were secured, and doors locked tight for the weekend.
The notion of a conversation with Harm had hidden in the back of her mind all afternoon, but she still considered it less than a twenty percent probability. Would he actually approach her again? He had obviously gone home. Perhaps he would call later, perhaps not.
If he did call, what would she say? How do you forgive someone who can’t seem to form a sentence on certain subjects without inserting his size thirteen shoe in his mouth? But then, how do you not? That thought assailed her with startling clarity, whapping the back of her head with a wake up call.
Harm wasn’t a jerk, everyone knew that. He certainly wasn’t a chauvinist, and his courtroom appearances repeatedly attested to his facility with the language. So how did he manage to do it? How did he manage to always screw up so badly at times like this?
A quirk, that was the only explanation. Just some little quirk in his personality, something that made his tongue tie in a knot, and the words come out in a completely unacceptable manner. That had to be it, a tiny blemish on his genetic code. Something had bounced against his DNA string and caused a miniscule flaw that only activated when she was within earshot. Certainly, she never knew him to say lame things like this where anyone else could overhear him.
So by that chain of logic didn’t it conclude that some mysterious entity must have created them especially for each other? If she was the only one who triggered this misfire in his brain, there must be a cosmic connection. If she dared, if she had time, she’d ask Bud about this. He was into strange unexplained phenomenon.
For now, there was only one thing to do. She’d go home, put on her prettiest sweater, brush out her hair, and make a nice pot of Darjeeling. Then she would wait. Maybe this time he would come to her, maybe this was the time they would sort this out. Maybe if she just listened…..
Making bets with herself on how many more audible faux pas he would commit if he did come to her, she stowed her brief case in the back seat of her car and drove carefully home. No reason to hurry. If he came, he’d be late anyway.
Mac’s apartment
Early evening
We just can’t do this again, he thought, I don’t care what it takes but this is it. He’d been running since he left JAG, and now it was starting to snow. Swell. Big fluffy flakes that would fill the streets and clog traffic, causing accidents for days. He had difficult things to work out with her, and now he was time constrained by the capacity of his SUV to negotiate the unplowed streets of DC. The only up side to it, was the temperature had to go up, at least until the snow quit. He hadn’t even had time to go home and change clothes. Between traffic and errands, there had been no time.
The uniform wasn’t as romantic as a nice soft sweater and slacks, nor as practical for the weather as jeans, and boots, with a warm jacket, but his bag was still in the back of his car. If he needed to change before going home, he had stuff in there. At least he could count on the fact that he wouldn’t intimidate Mac. There was no unfair advantage involved. She’d never been impressed by his brass buttons and service awards, least of all by his gold wings.
He noticed the snow melting on the hood of her car, as he walked by. It was still warm, foretelling a recent arrival. It allowed him to hope he would be on time with dinner.
Bud said 1.2 million dollars wouldn’t impress her. He was right of course, but maybe he’d been able to find something that would please her.
After she agreed to talk to him this morning, he had called Romano’s, the most expensive Italian restaurant in the DC area, and ordered her favorite salad, dinner, and dessert. Before picking up dinner, he’d driven across the river to the nicest flower shop he knew and bought a specially mixed bouquet. The clerk suggested she would be impressed by the fact they were all out of season flowers.
Harm just thought they matched her perfectly, exotic, rare, and fascinating. If she understood his message, maybe she’d accept the little item he’d picked up from the store next to the flower shop.
It may not be a seven-figure apology, but it still made a serious dent in his credit card. If it worked, it would be like the commercial said, ‘priceless’. In any case he knew saying the right thing would be the most important. He just had so much trouble doing that around her.
Reminding himself that he’d always talked better with his actions, his instinct suggested he show her, and do it in a way she would get the message. That’s what he would do, just walk in there put this stuff down, take her in his arms, and kiss the living daylights out of her.
With the small box tucked firmly in the pocket of his Navy issue overcoat, he juggled the dinner bag in one hand and the flowers in the other, barely pressing her doorbell with his little finger.
‘Ring, ring.’ No answer. He knew she was home. Surely, she wouldn’t refuse to see him. ‘Please God, give me the strength to say or do the right thing just this once.’
‘Ring, ring,’ “Just a minute,” she called from inside, as she hurried to the door, still pulling her sweater over her head. It was too early. It couldn’t be Harm; but there he was in her peephole. Still in uniform too. God what that man did for his uniform. She really hadn’t expected him so soon, that’s twice in one day.
As she pulled the door open, she was still straightening her sweater and fluffing her hair. Her feet were bare.
“Harm?” she said a little breathless.
“Were you…?” he frowned in suspicion, she looked too delicious, but he was interrupted by ‘tweeeeeet’.
“Just a minute,” she turned her head in the direction of the offending noise. “Come in,” she called over her shoulder, sprinting for the kitchen.
“Well so much for overwhelming her with romance,” he muttered, shouldering through the door, and nudging it closed with his foot.
He was standing there, wondering what to do with the stuff in his hands, when she came back from the kitchen carrying a teapot and two cups on a tray.
“Expecting company?” he asked defensively.
“You’re early,” she commented nervously.
“Yeah,” he replied, and wondered if she had been expecting him.
“No,” she said, “just you.”
He nodded his head, smiling now at her rushed disarray, she grinned, self-conscious that he’d noticed her anxious anticipation. Then they both laughed in friendly discomfort. After a minute, she noticed the flowers and her eyes brightened. Before she could say a word, he extended the bouquet.
“For you,” he told her.
“God, Harm, they’re beautiful they must have….” oops now who was putting their foot in their mouth, she blushed. “They’re beautiful,” she repeated. “They’re out of season, so exotic” was substituted for the comment she almost made. There was a meaning here, this wasn’t just the ordinary last minute dozen roses.
“Not as beautiful as you,” he surprised himself with the smooth comment. More surprised even that it was totally sincere.
She looked into his eyes and saw the earnestness in his gaze.
“Thank you, Harm,” she accepted. It was time to just listen and accept; this was a first step.
He felt inordinately pleased at the success of this exchange, “Oh, and I brought dinner too. I’d have taken you out, but….well….I thought maybe it would be easier to talk here,” he explained.
She thought of questioning his desire to talk, it wasn’t something that historically had worked. Instead, she just looked at him, wondering what he’d done with her Harm, before accepting again with a gracious smile.
“Thank you, that was very thoughtful. Shall we eat before it gets cold?” she asked, smiling up through her lashes
“Let me help,” he responded shucking his coat, hanging it over a chair and placing his cover on top. Taking the bag of food from her, he followed her into the kitchen.
Standing just behind her with the dinner bag, he watched in fascination as she stretched on her bare toes to reach the plates in the cabinet. Stunned by the incomparable beauty of her long graceful form, he boldly reached one finger to trace the curve of her neck as it met her shoulder.
He was rewarded with a tiny shivering sigh, a small, unexpected sound.
The same finger ran lightly across her back, lifting the fall of her hair, moving it aside. She gripped the counter, and tilted her head a bit. He doubted the response was fear, he hoped for anticipation.
Leaning close to her, he allowed his breath to brush the back of her neck a mere second before his lips reached their target.
Harm?” she whimpered his name, melting back against him. A low throaty moan curled its way from somewhere deep inside her.
“Mac. The words always come out wrong,” he whispered against her skin. “This is what I truly want to say,” he kissed a trail up under her ear, and her insides curled tighter.
She gasped as the full force of his tantalizing touch flowed to intimate places, “I know,” she barely formed the words. “It’s what I’ve waited to hear.”
Following her jaw line, he traced the kiss around, landing his full beautiful lips perfectly on hers. Absently, as he made his capture, he placed the bag of food on the counter and allowed his arm to continue around her shoulders while the other encircled her waist. She turned smoothly in his arms, her hands taking a path around his waist and up his back, to tease his skin beneath the fabric of his jacket.
This silent conversation lasted a long time, as they told each other things they had always tried to say, but never found the right words.
The initial exchange complete, he pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. His reward was her luminous smile, assuring him his message was received.
“The food is getting cold,” he tilted his head towards the bag, not particularly caring.
“Put it in the fridge. We’ll have a late dinner,” she suggested.
“It’s snowing pretty hard. I can’t stay too long,” he worried, stuffing the bag away.
“You don’t have to go at all,” she smiled at him, leading him from the kitchen.
He hesitated, pulling on her hand to stop her.
“Mac I didn’t return that kiss,” she didn’t turn as he spoke.
Hesitating for a minute, she nodded before answering, “I know, Harm. I heard that part.”
“Are we going to be okay?” he asked, still addressing the back of her head.
She turned slowly, with a teasing grin, “Maybe you need to tell me again. What you said in the kitchen.”
“Anytime you want to hear it, my love,” he drew her into his arms.
Several more minutes of silent expression ensued, before they slowly released each other.
She laid her cheek against his chest, running her fingers over his wings and service ribbons.
“What are you doing,” he murmured into her hair, wrapping his arms around her.
“Reminding myself who you are. There are so many levels to the man inside you,” she replied, nestled comfortably against his warm body.
“I’m just a man, Mac. What’s most important is having you right here with me,” he was amazed these word were coming to him.
She nodded thoughtfully, “I know, me too. It’s how I feel about you.” She tilted her head back, “Now weren’t we going to continue our conversation elsewhere?” she smiled softly, taking his hand again, to lead him across the room.
“On one condition, Mac,” he snagged the item from his coat pocket as they walked past.
She turned with a startled almost fearful look, “What’s that?” she asked.
“Only if you’ll wear this for me,” he placed the small velvet box in her hand.
“You’re serious?” her eyes shone with a slight film of tears, as she opened the tiny case.
“Never more serious in my life,” he replied, scooping her into his arms. He nuzzled ‘that’ spot on her neck again. Delighted by the tiny sounds she made, he gently buried his face against her throat and kissed the small ‘v’ of her collarbone, before he reclaimed her lips.
With a warm smile of perfect contentment, he carried her into the next room, nudging the door shut with his foot, pleased that the carefully chosen ‘words’ had worked.
End
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