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Date Posted: 20:12:42 06/09/08 Mon
Author: .
Subject: Love and MuuMuus


Prompt(s): slider/curveball from Anonymous: Josh: CJ, it's a crazy place. It's got this dictatorial leader who, I'm sure, wears muumuus and chain-smokes Parliaments (The West Wing, "The U.S. Poet Laureate", 3/27/02) and this easy toss from Pixie: With love all things are possible (Beauty and the Beast)

Word count: 2,290

Category: H/M, Fun, Romance

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: For entertainment only. No infringement intended.

Author's Notes: Couldn't resist the gauntlet that Anonymous threw down and Pixie's was too good to pass up and combining them seemed to match the spirit of the challenge.

Summary: Just a quiet Saturday morning for two.

==================================================================

I jerk awake and immediately wrestle with the disorientation which always accompanies that kind of sudden emergence from sleep. My heart rate is accelerated and I work to slow my breathing. It hadn't been a nightmare. I've certainly had enough of those in the past, but they come rarely now. It wasn't even a bad dream, really, just very strange, very vivid. It was somewhat disturbing though, maybe because it was so unlike the usual nighttime wanderings of my subconscious these days. I try to fix the details in my mind before they drift away. This was a dream I want to remember; I'm very curious about its origins. I'm not sure I want to return to the dream tonight though, so I decide a drink of water might finish the job of clearing my head. I ease out from under the covers and swing my legs off the side of the bed and pad to the kitchen. I drink a couple of sips from the cup I keep by the side of the sink and head back to bed. When I reach the bedroom, Harm is perched on one elbow and holding the covers open for me with the other.

"I didn't mean to wake you," I whisper as I crawl into the comfort he offers.

"You didn't." I snort a little at his white lie. "Can I help it if I notice when you're gone?"

"Did you know where I was?" I look up into his face and dare him to be right.

He smiles. "Had a pretty good idea. Midnight snack?"

I jab him softly with my elbow. "Cute, but no. Just some water."

"Was it a nightmare?" His concern turns the tone of his voice from teasing to serious in a heartbeat.

I lift my hand to cup his cheek in response. "No, it wasn't. It was just … weird."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not right now." The dream has completely faded from my mind for now with other more pressing thoughts to occupy it. "Since we're both awake and in bed, I can think of better things to do than talk." I pull his head down for a kiss. "Can't you?" He doesn't agree verbally but there is no mistaking his meaning.

When I wake the second time that morning, my first thoughts are much more pleasing. It's still early and I'm relaxed and happy, but I also realize I won't get back to sleep. It's an annoying trait, but once I'm awake, I'm awake. I am also hungry. Even though Harm is clearly still asleep, in my mind I can hear him chuckling or maybe smirking about my appetite. He enjoys yanking my chain on that subject and usually I don't get too annoyed. Besides, whenever he goes too far, his apologies are worth the trade. My mind wanders. Maybe he doesn't need to sleep anymore either. No, I'm hungrier for food than for Harm. After all, I've had Harm more recently than I've had food. Decision made, I creep out of bed again, but this time I check to make sure that I haven't disturbed Sleeping Beauty. We've got to keep his strength up. Now I'm the one chuckling.

I start the coffee maker and then open the cupboard to take inventory of the cereal supply. None of the available choices speaks to me but another idea does occur. If only we have the necessary ingredients. Eggs? Check. Milk? Check. Bread? Check. Syrup? Check. French toast it is. I pour a cup of coffee and grab a banana to tide me over as I work on the main course. I'm just finishing my batch, no sense cooking Harm's until he's awake, when I look up and find him alert and smiling in the doorway. "You're up early for a Saturday."

"Couldn't miss this. Did you skip the midnight snack so you could splurge this morning?" Harm's teasing never seems to take a day off.

"I was going to offer you some, but now I'm not so sure." I try to look stern.

"Not share your legendary French toast? I thought I earned enough extra credit last night to shield me from such retribution until at least lunch time." He's definitely in a good mood this morning, but then so am I. I step away from the stove and he meets me halfway for a kiss. We both agree that you can't go too long without one of those. "Morning, Beautiful," he whispers as our lips part.

I pull away a bit to look up. "Good morning to you, too, but I'm anything but beautiful right now."

He smiles at me and pushes stray hair away from my face. "With love, all things are possible."

"What does that mean?" He's not usually this philosophical or poetic before coffee.

"That you are always beautiful to me." His tone is sincere but his eyes are twinkling.

"I suppose you think flattery will get you French toast?" I can't help smiling back.

"It's worked before."

He's right, it has, but I can't admit that out loud. "Keep dreaming, Harm, keep dreaming, but since I'm in such a good mood, I'm willing to share."

He recognizes my face saving tactic and wisely doesn't press his luck this early in the day. "Should I warm up the syrup?"

We've both finished breakfast, which was delicious, if I do say so myself, and Harm starts to clear the plates. I move to get up but he stops me. "The cook doesn't clean up, remember? Especially when the meal was this good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." While he's washing the dishes, I pour myself another cup of coffee, and then grab a towel to start drying. "Drying isn't the same as washing." I answer his unvoiced protest. "Besides, I don't like to sit and watch you work."

He turns toward me and raises his eyebrows in question. "I seem to recall a number of evenings when you watched me cook."

"I help, too." I try to defend myself, but he isn't really attacking. "Sometimes."

"Yes, you do, lots of times, and you're a great cook yourself, but sometimes you just watch. How is that different?" He's really curious.

I try to explain, but I'm not sure if I can. "Washing dishes is more of a chore. Everyone should pitch in on chores, so I don't like to watch and not help. Cooking can be a chore too, but usually with you, it isn't. Watching you cook is like watching you work on your Vette or fly "Sarah". It's so clear that you're doing something you love. Sometimes I want to be a part of it and I offer to help, but sometimes I forget because I'm so caught up in the moment just watching." I pause trying to gauge his reaction and trying to find words to explain my fascination. "This isn't making much sense"

Harm hands me the skillet and I dry it as he drains the sink. After I put the skillet away, Harm pulls me into his arms. "I think I understand. You don't like to watch me work, but you like to watch me play." His smile is mischievous but still warms my uncertainty. "I like to watch you, too."

I look up surprised. I had no idea he liked to watch me the way I liked to watch him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Need to know?" He shrugs a little.

"Well I guess I needed to know." I give the stock answer even though it doesn't really apply.

"Needed to know?" Harm challenges.

It's my turn to shrug. "Okay, would have liked to know. So now the question becomes when?"

"When what?" He's genuinely lost my train of thought. Not terribly surprising. I sometimes have trouble following it too.

"When do you watch me?"

"When you're too engrossed to realize that I'm around. If you know I'm watching, you get self conscious, and then it turns from play back to work." He leans in and kisses the tip of my nose so I know he's trying to distract me from realizing something.

I pull back to look at him. "How long were watching this morning?"

He hesitates and then offers. "I caught the last egg being cracked."

"I guess I wasn't paying sufficient attention to my environment."

He pulls me back into his arms. "You were in your kitchen, Mac, not a war zone."

"Point taken. Have you noticed we're beginning to think a lot alike?"

He moves his hands to my shoulders and takes a step back so that we can look at each other. "That's something isn't it." His quiet answer is tender and sweet.

"How do you account for that? I reach up to caress the stubble on his cheek. I never get enough of that sensation.

"A rip in the space/time continuum?" Harm ends our verbal Hallmark moment right on cue, but starts rubbing soft circles on my back. "So what had you so distracted? That dream you didn't want to talk about last night?"

"This morning." I correct him automatically. "Yeah, I guess so. I was trying to figure out what my subconscious was trying to tell me."

"Did you come up with any answers?"

"Not yet."

"Can I help?" His tone suggests distraction rather than assistance.

"Tempting, but I don't think that will lead to answers about my dream."

Harm leads me toward the living room and pulls out his fake German accent. "Then you vill lie down on ze couch and tell Dr. Rabb all about zese dreams you are having."

As he intended I laugh. "How about we sit on the couch together and I tell you about the dream, at least what I remember?"

He smiles. "That could work too."

We settle in together and I gather my thoughts. I realize that I don't remember as much as I thought I would, but it will be enough, I think. "The dream took place at JAG Ops, but it was a crazy place."

"That's not a dream, Mac, that's reality."

I punch him in the side. "Do you want to hear this or not?"

His arms go up in mock surrender and he pretends to lock his lips.

I try to set the scene. "The office looks the same, but the Admiral is gone. It's got this dictatorial leader who, I'm sure, wears muumuus and chain-smokes Parliaments. And that leader is none other than our own Lauren Singer."

Harm can't help himself. He starts chortling, then howling with laughter. I have to admit, it seems much funnier and much less disturbing now than it did six hours ago. Of course then it was dark and waking up with such strange images in my head, I felt alone. Now it's daytime, I've had a satisfying breakfast and I am sitting right next to Harm. And I start laughing too. It's some time before either of us can speak again.

"You were right." He offers with no further explanation.

I smile more broadly. "I do love to hear you say that. About what?"

"When you described your dream last night … this morning, you said it was weird. I'd say that sums it up."

"So you don't think there's a deeper meaning?"

"If Lauren were big enough to wear a muumuu and she were chain-smoking, our odds of being rid of her sooner would certainly go up. There's no way she'd pass her fit rep. I don't know how we get her to change her habits though. Any hints in your dream as to how she came to be that way?"

"That was probably just an outward manifestation of how I (and my subconscious) see her personality. She's never made a secret of her ambition, but does this somehow mean I see it as likely?" Fortunately my anchor pulls me back to reality.

"I think you've probably been watching too much reality tv. All that wackiness was bound to take its toll. This is just your entertaining way of portraying how ludicrous Singer's ambitions really are. The navy isn't going to replace an ex-SEAL admiral as the JAG with a chain-smoker who wears muumuus. You weren't worried, were you?"

"Not for a minute." Snuggling into his embrace, I relax and realize that the weekend is looking up. I shift to face Harm. "So if I have to give up reality tv, what do you suggest I do with that extra time?"

With his eyebrows waggling, Harm offers, "Say the secret word and win a prize."

From Freud to Marx in one morning. I hadn't realized what a clown Harm could be. "Game shows, my favorite." Harm scowls a bit at the thought of a new television addiction until I move closer and whisper, "I love you."

"I love you, too, but that's three words," he challenges just before our lips connect.

"Does that mean I don't win the prize?" I ask sometime later.

He smiles again. "If we move this party back to the bedroom, we can both be winners."

THE END

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Replies:

[> Fun story! I got a good chuckle out of all the recent challenge lines that kinda sneaked in...! -- Achillea, 20:45:25 06/09/08 Mon [1]


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[> I lost count of how many challenge lines were in here, but I loved the story. -- Katiegirl, 20:50:29 06/09/08 Mon [1]


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[> Just what I needed after a long day at work. Too funny - thanks -- usmgrad, 21:16:53 06/09/08 Mon [1]


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[> This is exactly the kind of Saturday morning I picture H&M having. :) -- Mandy, 21:53:35 06/09/08 Mon [1]


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[> This was very entertaining!! ... -- Teacup, 22:34:20 06/09/08 Mon [1]

Great use of all kinds of challenge lines. But the best part, of course, was all the verbal interplay between the two. So cute and fun!


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[> Before I read it, I couldn't figure out how anyone could work those first lines in to any kind of JAG story. Only a very clever writer could accomplish such a feat. This was great! -- Lee, 22:36:53 06/09/08 Mon [1]


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[> Oh, this was fun! Great job with the banter and dialogue - I could definitely picture Harm and Mac as a loving, sexy couple! -- ....., 22:40:58 06/09/08 Mon [1]


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[> Really great use of humor & tongue-in-cheek sarcasm! Loved the interplay between them both! Cute, sassy, and great use of many past challenge lines in addition to the prompts to which you responded. -- judy52sa, 23:18:27 06/09/08 Mon [1]


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[> Every one of your stories is so different, but as wonderful! Thank you! -- mj, 03:36:38 06/10/08 Tue [1]


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[> Nutty and fun. Nice job! -- kate, 11:07:44 06/10/08 Tue [1]


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[> LOL! Fun! I really enjoyed this story and their interaction, thanks! -- Mesh, 15:26:44 06/10/08 Tue [1]


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[> Lol great job loved it cute anf funny with lots of loving oh yeah just great. -- Bev uk, 15:27:14 06/10/08 Tue [1]


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[> Cute and funny! -- JAG Junkie (Ronda), 20:11:01 06/10/08 Tue [1]


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