Author:
Dazzling
Email:
glitter_and_glam@hotmail.com
Disclaimers:
I still don’t own anything JAG-related, despite my numerous attempts. The song
is ‘Didn’t We Almost Have It All’ by Whitney Houston and whoever wrote it.
Notes:
Despite the ending in ‘…Say Goodbye’, all is not good for Harm and Mac.
Truthfully, even being a shipper, I thought that all that smut would get boring,
and I’d like this to be a series.
Timeline:
Two days after ‘Stop Making Me Say Goodbye’.
Rating:
PG13. A couple of swear-type words.
Reviews and Feedback: Would be really great, =)
STOP MAKING ME
QUESTION WHAT I KNOW (OR THOUGHT I DID)
“Hey,” Harm
greeted Mac as he walked into the JAG bullpen, briefcase in one hand, hat in the
other. He followed her into her office, hovering in the door as she sunk down
into the chair behind her desk. She looked at him curiously.
“Harm?” she
asked.
“Hmmmm?” he
replied, only half-listening, his gaze focused on the window and his eyes glazed
over.
“When you’re
done admiring the blinds I’ve had for, oh, a few years now, you wanna tell me
why you followed me into my office as soon as you arrived for no other apparent
reason than to stare at my window, which has also been there for quite a few
years?”
“Oh. Right,” he
said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Well, ah, the thing is…we
haven’t really spoken since the, ah, the party and all the events afterwards,
and when I came in this morning, I couldn’t help noticing that his ring is
still on your finger. And I know all the things we said, but…”
“But you’re
wondering if I’m really going to break it off with Mic?” Mac finished for
him. She stood up, grabbing a few of the files that were resting on her desk.
“We’re having lunch today. Figured I’d break it to him over a meal. I
can’t string him on like this anymore. Speaking of, have you dumped Renee
yet?”
“Ahh, Renee.
We’re on for a lunch…well, I wouldn’t exactly call it a date, but, you
know,” Harm told her, wringing his hands almost nervously in front of him. It
didn’t escape Mac’s notice.
“You okay?” she
asked him, concerned. He righted himself from his leaning position against the
doorframe and gave her a fairly convincing version of the Flyboy smile that she
loved, nodding a conformation.
“Yeah. I’m just
tired. Couldn’t sleep last night. A certain jarhead was on my mind,” he
said, winking at her. She moved out from around the back of the desk and
sauntered suggestively over to him like a model down a runway, standing on her
tiptoes to whisper in his ear.
“I’d watch that
sort of talk, Sailor,” she said, smirking. “Someone could use that
particular information against you.”
He grinned again,
making sure no one was watching and giving her cheek a quick caress before
picking up his briefcase and moving out of her office. He turned back and
mouthed, “Love you,” as he went to his own office.
She smiled at that,
before going over and dropping the files on Bud’s desk, taking a quick look
over his shoulder at what he was getting up to on the computer.
“Internet buying
sites, Bud?” she asked, an amused tone in her voice. Bud looked up, startled,
before realizing who it was, and relaxing.
“Ah, yes,
Ma’am. I’m buying some early birthday presents for little AJ. I haven’t
been able to find them anywhere in shops, and he’d really like them,” Bud
explained, before clicking his mouse a few last times and closing them down,
starting up the screensaver.
“The case files
for the Verdon case are there,” Mac said, pointing. “Lots of paperwork, but
it seems like a pretty easy trial. Could you look them over?” she asked,
before giving him a smile and walking back to her office.
3 Hours Later
Mac was reviewing
the files for an old case when a knock sounded at her door. “Come in,” she
called, without looking up. She heard the door close behind the person who had
entered, and before she could do anything, a pair of large hands closed over her
eyes. She grinned.
“Hey there,
gorgeous,” Harm said, removing his hands and giving her a kiss. She spun
around in her chair and looked up at him.
“Not that I’d
ever complain about seeing you, but what are you doing here?” she asked.
He looked at his
watch. “Actually, I came to say, ‘Wish me luck,’ and to do the same to
you, because it’s lunchtime,” he informed her, giving her a charming smile.
Mac checked her internal clock.
“It is too,”
she said, dropping the files on top of the mess that was her desk. “I’m
supposed to be meeting Mic in about ten minutes, so I better go.” She stood
up, grabbing her handbag and hat. Walking to open the door, she leaned up and
gave Harm a kiss. “Good luck, Flyboy.”
He gave her that
grin. “Same to you, Marine.” She walked out of her office and he followed,
making a quick stop in his to collect his hat and coat. Sharing a final glance,
they went separate ways, to get rid of the only thing left that was standing in
the way of a real relationship.
JAG Headquarters
Mac returned from
lunch and her ‘date’ with Mic to find Harm sitting in her office, feet
resting on the desk. As she closed the door behind her, he stood up to give her
a hug. Wrapping his arms around her, something dropped from the pocket of her
cover. He bent to pick it up. Looking at it, he got suspicious.
“Mac? Why are you
still carrying his ring around?” he asked her quietly, his voice curious and
jealous at the same time.
“Well, ah,
he…he wouldn’t, you know, take it, ah, take it back, and….” She started,
but Harm cut her off.
“You didn’t do
it, did you?”
She didn’t
respond, simply placed her things on the ground. She seemed withdrawn,
acquiescent. He grabbed her shoulders with a little more force than he meant to,
forcing her to look at him. “Mac? You didn’t break it off with him, did
you?”
She shrugged his
hands off of her, moving over to stand by the window. “No, I didn’t,” she
finally said softly. She heard Harm stiffen behind her, but didn’t turn to
face him. Neither moved nor spoke for a moment, and then he walked over to stand
behind her, not quite touching.
“Why not? Can’t
you do it? Is that it? Are you finding it hard to break up with a guy you
don’t even really love? Why can’t you do it?” Harm knew his voice was
getting louder, but he had to know. She whirled around to look at him, her eyes
fired up. She was angry, he knew.
“No, Harm, I did
some thinking over lunch, and I can’t…I can’t do THIS, ok? Even if I had
dumped Mic, we’d still have to hide it. I can’t, no, I WON’T sneak around,
pretending like there’s nothing going on, all right? Screw the rules. I
don’t care about them, but obviously you do. If you’re so…so ashamed to be
with me, then maybe we shouldn’t be in this at all,” she yelled, not caring
who in the office heard.
“You know what?
Fine. Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe all the things you said to me about love were
lies. But then, this is coming from the woman who agreed to marry a man she
wasn’t even sure she loved, so, I guess it’s pretty typical behaviour for
you,” he shouted back.
“Oh, don’t you
dare,” Mac said quietly. “If that’s the way you feel, then go. Run away,
like you always do. Run from everything and everyone you’re too scared to
face. That is your MO, isn’t it? Fine, Harm. Go. Run. Get out of here.” She
turned her back on him, angry tears rolling down her face.
“What does that
make now, Mac? One failed marriage, one failed engagement and god knows how many
failed relationships. You know what? I’m starting to think that maybe it DOES
have something to do with you!” Harm delivered this parting blow and stormed
out of her office, slamming the door shut behind him.
Mac sunk down into
the chair behind her desk, hands over her face, sobbing. Harm strode to his own
office, ignoring the looks of the rest of the staff, and threw the door shut as
he entered. Bud moved to knock on it, but Harriet took his arm, shaking her
head.
“What happened in
there?” he leaned in and whispered to Harriet. She shrugged, looking worriedly
along with the rest of the JAG staff back and forth between Harm and Mac’s
respective office doors, shut tight. The faint sound of a string of obscenities
mixed with the sniffle of held-back tears was able to be heard if you stood
close enough to Harm’s door, and no-one dared knock on either door to check if
their senior officers were alright.
The Admiral came
out of his office, looking around and clapping his hands sharply. “Back to
work, people!” he called, the tone in his voice daring anyone to disobey. He
then opened Harm and Mac’s office doors one-by-one, delivering to them the
same message. “Go home. Don’t even think about coming back here until
you’ve worked out whatever the hell your problems are and you can be civil to
each other and the people around you.”
Mac waited until
Harm had left, and then gathered up her things, taking a deep breath and opening
her door. Her eyes were red rimmed, her face pale. She walked through the
bullpen, blocking out everyone, and opted for the stairs instead of waiting for
the elevator. Halfway down, she collapsed, crying. She rested her head on her
knees for a few minutes, then got up and walked to her car before her composure
crumbled again.
1830
Harm’s Apartment
Harm stared around
him from his vantage point, sitting on the floor, knees drawn up, on the kitchen
floor, leaning against the cabinets. He flipped a bottle cap off his thumb, the
corner of his mouth turning up when it landed with a clatter in the sink,
rolling round and round before coming to a rest with a final clink.
All the blinds in
his apartment were drawn, the relative darkness comforting Harm somehow, but not
helping him forget. He pulled himself up with a groan and stumbled over to his
sound system, switching the radio on.
“Remember when we
held on in the rain
The nights we almost lost it once again
We can take the night into tomorrow
Living on feelings
Touching you I feel it again.”
“Oh great,” he
muttered. “Girly love songs. That’s just what I need now.” As he listened
to the lyrics, however, he felt himself slipping into the place he had retreated
to earlier in his office, after the fight with Mac.
"Didn't
we almost have it all
When love was all we had worth giving
The ride with you was worth the fall my friend
Loving you makes life worth living
Didn't we almost have it all
The nights we held on till the morning
You know you'll never love that way again
Didn't we almost have it all.”
He sunk onto the
floor next to the stereo, sliding down the wall. Head in hands, he was vaguely
aware of hot tears flowing from his eyes. “Dammit, Mac!” he said to himself,
trying to get the picture of her out of his head. “Why? Why’d you do this
now, when everything could’ve been so perfect?”
Deep down, he knew he couldn’t solely blame her for what had happened that afternoon. But it made it easier for him to cope, to pretend she was the only bad guy in this deal. The song on the radio played on.
“The way you used
to touch me felt so fine
We kept our hearts together down the line
A moment in the soul can last forever
Comfort and keep us
Help me bring the feeling back again.”
Resting his head
back against the wall, he mused, “I wonder what is it with radio stations
that, when you’re feeling as crappy as you possibly think you can, they go and
play the one song that can make you feel even crappier?”
He smiled at the
irony in that, a very small smile. His fingers itched to reach for the phone, to
punch in the numbers that he knew by heart, and to make it all right again. But
he couldn’t do it. He froze up at the thought of seeing her after what had
happened.
“Didn't we almost
have it all
When love was all we had worth giving
The ride with you was worth the fall my friend
Loving you makes life worth living
Didn't we almost have it all
The nights we held on till the morning
You know you'll never love that way again
Didn't we almost have it all.”
He didn’t want to listen to that song anymore, the lyrics rang too true. Yet, he couldn’t turn it off. Knowing that someone was going through it like he was, even if it was only a song, comforted him somehow.
“Didn't we have
the best of times
When love was young and new
Couldn't we reach inside and find
The world of me and you
We'll never lose it again
Cause once you know what love is
You'll never let it end.”
“You know what,
Mac? I don’t care. Hear that? I DON’T CARE!” he yelled to the roof, not
sure why he chose those words. “What don’t you care about?” he asked
himself. “Her? The fight? The fact that you lost her? The fact that you may
never have her again? Or the question of whether you really ever had her at
all?”
Too tired to ponder anything anymore, he simply leaned back and listened to the song, sympathizing with whoever was singing. “I hear ya, honey,” he whispered to the radio.
“Didn't we almost
have it all
When love was all we had worth giving
The ride with you was worth the fall my friend
Loving you makes life worth living
Didn't we almost have it all
The nights we held on till the morning
You know you'll never love that way again
Didn't we almost have it all
Didn’t we almost have it all.”
1930
Mac’s Apartment
Mac was in the same
position she had been ever since she had come home from JAG. Stretched out
across her bed, face buried in the pillows so that no one could hear her crying,
sobbing out her anger and her guilt. The radio was playing softly in the
background, but she was ignoring it.
“Why, Harm?
Why’d you have to ask me about it? Why couldn’t you just trust me?” she
asked the room. Rolling over onto her back, Mac stared at the ceiling, counting
the dots in the textured paint, anything to take her mind off what had happened
back in the office
She reached for the
bottle that was sitting on her bedside table. With her previous experiences
concerning alcohol clearly in her mind, she had decided to chug mineral water
instead.
Wiping the tears
from her eyes, Mac stood shakily up, stumbling around the dark room. She made
her way into the lounge room and flopped down onto the couch, picking up the
remote, turning the TV on and flicking through the channels, doing whatever she
could to push the image of Harm’s face from her mind.
“Hello, and
welcome to the news. First up, a story of how love can survive everythi...,”
the newsreader’s voice blared. “No, it can’t,” Mac muttered, and
switched channels. “News, sports, talk shows, news, sports,” she said to
herself, and turned it off.
Glancing at her
surroundings, she took a long look at her phone. More than anything, she wanted
to call him, tell him everything would be all right. Sighing, and looking away,
she reminded herself of what he had said. “Just another failed relationship. I
should be used to it by now,” she said softly.
Mac heaved herself
off the couch and walked back into her bedroom. Without bothering to change, she
lay down, willing sleep to come. She knew, though, that when it did, all she
would be able to see would be his face. Tears streaming, she turned on her side
and closed her eyes, looking for the temporary solace that slumber might
provide.
FIN