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Date Posted: 11:50:46 06/09/05 Thu
Author: TracyJean
Subject: DOALS I - Hands To Heaven 3/10
In reply to: TracyJean 's message, "Drifting On A Lonely Sea Chapter I - Hands To Heaven" on 18:19:27 06/06/05 Mon

Because of Voy's hiccup yesterday, I'll post two parts today. Look for part 4 some time later this afternoon.

~*~*~*~

BREEZY POINT OFFICER'S CLUB
NORFOLK, VIRGINIA

After a seemingly unending drive, during which a few stolen moments in the JAG courtyard and on the Admiral's front porch had played over and over in his mind, Harm had arrived in Norfolk and promptly checked into the Navy Lodge. After sprawling out on his bed, staring up at ceiling for what seemed like forever, but in reality was only about forty-five minutes, Harm had gotten restless and decided to wander the base, looking for something to do.

First he'd ambled around the pier, watching the normal change-of-shift activity surrounding the USS Nimitz, in port while undergoing a two-year overhaul. He'd spent close to half his career on carriers and normally loved the bustling activity that surrounded them, even when they were tied up at the dock. There was always something going on. But this time, he barely noticed.

The story was the same as he drove by the airfield. He pulled off the road and parked, watching various planes and helos take off and land. There were even a few Tomcats, part of a ground unit based at Norfolk, taking off for maneuvers. Normally, such a sight would have filled him with an excitement that could barely be contained. But there was so much else weighing on his mind that he could have been at the controls of one of those F-14s streaking across the sky and there still would have been this empty space inside his soul that couldn't be filled.

Eventually, he'd found himself seated at the bar at the officer's club, a double bourbon sitting in front of him, untouched. He shook a handful of pretzels in his hand as he stared at the scarred counter, then dropped them back into the bowl in front of him. Maybe someday the wounds on his heart would scar over and then maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't hurt so much. Perhaps he'd done the right thing in agreeing to return in time for the wedding, and then he could watch as she became Mrs. Mic Brumby and it would finally start sinking in that she was forever beyond his reach.

He thought he'd managed to bind up the wounds on his heart, the ones which had been ripped open at the airport in Sydney, but the last few weeks had proved the folly of that. On the one hand, he and Mac were closer than they'd been in two years. Yet they'd never been further apart, as she prepared to walk down the aisle with another man and he buried himself in a relationship which satisfied his body but which could never assuage the hunger in his soul.

He'd told himself that he could be satisfied with her friendship, that he could live with spending the days with her and watching her go home to another man at night. But as the days passed and her wedding drew closer, it became harder and harder to keep up the façade and pretend that all was well. It became damn near impossible when, for a few brief moments, he could hold her in his arms and stop pretending, but then had to face letting her go again.
<i>This bother you?

It's your drink, not mine.</i>

Now how was that for irony? He was trying to use drink to forget an alcoholic. Even though he was someplace where he didn't have to pretend, where he could drown his sorrows, her face haunted him, stopping him from taking the drink. He'd never felt completely comfortable drinking in front of her, even when she said that she didn't mind. Now, she wasn't even here, and it still bothered him to drink. He supposed if nothing else, he’d learned from her that alcohol didn't solve your problems. It might dull the pain, but your problems were still there in the morning, along with the hangover.

<i>I can't face them, Harm. I can't face you. </i>

Harm pushed the drink away with a sigh of disgust. Maybe he should have given in and let Renee accompany him, but even that would have been too hard. How could he continue to take her into his arms when it was another whose touch he needed and craved?

"Is this seat taken?"

Harm glanced to his side, finding a younger blonde woman standing next to him, gesturing to the empty bar stool beside him. She wore a leather flight jacket which identified her as a pilot and a Lieutenant. Well, they had flying in common and she was pretty enough. But he couldn't make himself care.

"Actually, I'd prefer to be by myself," he said, his voice short, barely attempting to be civil. In a huff, the woman turned on her heel and stormed off. Maybe she was expecting the gold wings to work just as well for the women as the men, he mused silently. His head jerked up when he heard a familiar voice beside him, but he couldn't make himself turn his head, expecting to find there was no one there and it was all in his head.

"Sounds like the gold wings need a little polishing," Mac said, sliding onto the stool which the pissed Lieutenant had just wanted to occupy. Harm shook his head, wondering if he'd managed to get drunk without even realizing it. Mac was back in Washington, busy playing the blushing bride.

"I would have thought that was obvious back in Sydney," he snorted, picking up his drink and tilting the glass in his hand, watching the amber liquid swirl around. "After all, I sent you into his arms, didn't I?"

"So we finally see the truth," Mac said, "instead of this façade you've been showing the world, telling everyone that you're happy for me, we finally see the bitter man behind the shield."

"Not your problem, now, is it?" he countered angrily. Maybe he should take a drink. Then maybe he wouldn't be hearing Mac's voice in his head, taunting him. "After all, you're the one who's getting married in three days, right?"

"Harm, I thought we agreed that we weren't going to lose each other?" Mac asked sadly, laying her hand on his. She wondered if this was how it was going to end, their entire relationship in shambles because of her marriage. He jerked his hand away, finally turning to look at her as he realized that the hand on his arm and the voice in his head were all too real.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Shouldn't you be back in DC, fawning over the arrogant ass that you're marrying on Saturday?"

Calm, Mac reminded herself. She'd wanted to clear the air with Harm. Well, what had she expected, more of the 'I'm happy if you're happy' song and dance? At first, she thought to excuse his behavior because of what he'd had to drink, but she was close enough to smell his breath and see it in his eyes. Harm was stone cold sober.

Or maybe it would have just been easier if that's what she’d gotten, the 'I'm happy for you' line which he'd been spouting for well over a year or if she could excuse the truth coming to light because he was three sheets to the wind and couldn't keep his mouth shut if he tried. Yeah, but Harm being drunk would mean he'd have to lose control and Heaven forbid that he should ever do that.

No, what she was seeing was truth exposed. This was a lonely, bitter man who – thinking he was away from everyone whom he had to pretend in front of – was tired of the façade he showed the world every day and who thought he'd finally found a place where he could get away from it all.

"I wanted to spend some time with my best friend," she said. It wasn't the entire truth, but she didn't think he wanted to hear about how Chloe thought she was conflicted and needed to figure out her feelings for Harm. At any rate, she wasn't sure she could explain how she'd gone out for a drive, hoping to clear her head, and had been halfway to Norfolk before she even realized where she was going.

"Well, in case you didn't hear me a few minutes ago," he said, "I'd rather be alone right now."

"I don't think so," Mac countered firmly. She wasn't going to let him push her away this time. Her best friend was hurting and it hurt her, too. "Again, what happened to us not losing each other?"

"Come on," he said, laughing bitterly, "do you really think that will work?" He quickly turned his head, but not before she saw the pain and the despair in his eyes.

"Oh, Harm," she whispered, her voice ragged, recognizing her role in causing the pain of the person she cared about most in the world. "Please tell me what brought this on."

"What brought this on?" he echoed. "That's an easy one." Before she even realized his intention – not that she would have stopped him if she had, she admitted to herself – he leaned towards her and captured her lips with his. In the same instant, they both gave themselves up to the kiss, wrapping their arms around each other, each trying to pull the other closer. For a moment, they both forgot they were in the middle of a bar, people all around, and one – or maybe both – of them groaned deep in their throats.

Harm was the first to pull away, leaving Mac with a dazed look on her face, her lips slightly parted. After a moment, she blinked, trying to focus on what he was now saying. "Tell me something," he asked softly so that no one else might overhear. "If we weren't in the middle of a bar now, if we hadn't been standing in the JAG courtyard earlier today, if we hadn't been standing on the Admiral's front porch two weeks ago, do you think we'd be able to stop with just a simple kiss? And how long can this go on before the circumstances arise when it is just you and me, with nothing and no one around to tell us no? It can't go any farther than this. It shouldn't even be going this far. That's what brought this on."

Mac couldn't make herself answer the question. Her head was telling her to lie, to remember that she was marrying Mic Brumby in a few days, to insist that it could and would have stopped there. But her heart couldn't help pointing out that if Mic was the one she really wanted, then there would be nothing to discuss because she would be able to keep her hands off Harm. God help her, she did want more and he was right – if they hadn't been standing in the middle of a public area earlier today, she would have gladly melted into his arms and forgotten everything and everyone but the pleasure she knew she'd find in his embrace.

He studied her for a long moment before sadly adding, "That's what I thought." Tossing some money on the counter next to his untouched drink, he slide off his stool and walked out of the bar. Only once he was around the corner and out of her sight did he stop and momentarily slump against the wall, letting the weight resting on his shoulders show in his expression. It was best this way. Mac had made her choice and he couldn't interfere with that, no matter how much he wanted to. He had to make himself stay away. Maybe it would be easier after he watched her walk down the aisle and pledge herself to another man. Maybe then he could make himself forget that he wanted more and make himself remember that they could never be anything more than friends.

Back at the bar, Mac stared at the doorway Harm had just gone through, hesitating. She knew that he was telling the truth when he pointed out that sooner or later, they would find themselves in a situation where there would be nothing to stop them from acting on all those feelings that had been coming to the surface since the engagement party. She kept trying to tell herself that she was getting married and that she shouldn't, couldn't be attracted to another man.

She stared down at the engagement ring, watching it sparkle and gleam in the overhead lights. It had been given in love, she believed, but had it been received in love or taken to cover up a hurt? It wasn't fair to Mic. He'd been nothing but patient with her, waiting in Australia for three months, then in Washington for another seven months while she hemmed and hawed on making a decision. Then he'd been equally accepting when wedding preparations had gotten dumped in his lap while she got caught up in one case or another. After all this time, after everything he'd put up with from her, she couldn't just walk away from him.

But she couldn't just walk away from Harm, either, she admitted. He held such a large part of her heart, a part which Mic Brumby could never touch. And if she wanted to discuss what she owed to whom, what about what she owed Harm? He'd been there for her so many times, in good times and bad, during times when she probably didn't deserve his help and concern and it would have been easier for him to just turn around and walk away from her. But he never had. Even when Chris has shown up and she'd thought Harm wasn't giving her the time of day, he'd eventually come through for her.

He even stood up for you against Mic, the voice inside her heart pointed out. It was little wonder that Harm didn't like the guy. Practically the first thing he'd done after arriving in town had been to go after one of the people closest to Harm.

Yeah, but Mic was quite charming in his apology, the voice in her head countered. And he does love you. But was it enough?

<i>You do love your husband, don't you?</i>

Swearing softly at herself and the voices fighting it out inside her head, Mac practically jumped off her stool and ran for the door. Once outside the club, she faced a moment of indecision. Which way did he go? A quick glance at the parking lot revealed his SUV was still there, so whichever way he’d gone, it had been on foot.

"Great going, Marine," she muttered. "Next time you decide to follow someone, how about you don't give them a head start and time to get away from you?" Glancing at the SUV, she thought that she might just wait there, maybe sit on the hood of the car until he returned. He did need to come back and pick up his car eventually so he could go back to his hotel. As she walked towards the SUV, she caught sight of a lone figure on the beach across the street, head hanging down, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket. "Harm." She ran across the street and towards the object of her heart's desire.

As she approached, Harm could hear her breathing heavily as she ran through the sand, but he didn't turn around. He'd figured that she would come after him eventually, but he wasn't about to make this easy for her. He kept walking, ignoring her presence, even after she pulled up beside him and grabbed his arm to slow him down.

Finally, he stopped, trying to shake off her hand. "I thought I said …." he started before being angrily interrupted by her.

"Yeah, you said you wanted to be alone," she finished for him. "I heard you, but I don't believe you. You weren't like this earlier at JAG. What changed between then and now?"

"What does it matter?" he replied. "It would be best if you just left. I promised that I would be there for the wedding and I will be, playing the happy friend…."

"Harm," she pleaded, risking placing her hand back on his arm. When he didn't resist, she pulled him in the direction of a nearby picnic table and tugged him to sit next to her on the bench. "Please stop pretending. Tell me what you're really feeling."

"I don't think you want me to do that," he retorted, turning his head away so she wouldn't see the struggle in his eyes. He wanted so much to do as she asked. He wanted to tell her everything and beg her not to marry Mic. But it wasn't his place to. As she'd pointed out on the Admiral's porch, there were some things that he didn't get to ask. He'd long since lost that right.

"Why don't you let me decide what I want?" she demanded.

"What do you think I've been doing for the last eighteen months?" he countered.

His words hit her like a ton of bricks. She looked back over the months since she'd taken Mic's ring and realized that was exactly what he'd been doing. He'd stepped back because he thought she'd made her choice and didn't want to interfere and risk losing their friendship. She'd made her choice because she hadn't realized she'd had another option. She lowered her head as she shivered in the chilly night air, wrapping her arms around her in a vain effort to warm herself.

Even wrapped up in his pain, Harm noticed and he swiftly pulled of his jacket, draping it over her shoulders. "You're freezing," he said, pointing out the obvious. Her hands froze as they clutched the jacket, remembering another chilly night, another jacket draped over her shoulders….

"You wouldn't think a beach would be so cold," she mused, her voice so soft Harm almost couldn't hear what she was saying. He began to wonder if it wasn't so much the cold outside that was making her shiver, but the cold within.

"It still a little early in the year for it to really have warmed up yet," he pointed out, trying to distract both of them by talking about something inconsequential like the weather. "It only got up into the sixties today and it's dropping down into the low fifties tonight. I doubt the water is even warm enough to swim in yet." His voice trailed off when he couldn't think of anything else to say.

He risked a glance at her. She was clutching the edges of his jacket, pulling them closed in front of her, trying to ward off the chill. She looked so lost, he realized. Quietly, he asked, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course…." Mac began, before realizing what she was saying. Time was that Harm wouldn't have had to ask that question, he would have just asked whatever was on his mind. But you took care of that, didn't you? You told him on the Admiral's porch that there were questions that he didn't get to ask. Sadly, she nodded consent. "Go ahead."

Even with her agreement, he hesitated a moment before he continued, "Why did you come down here?"

"I thought you said that if I needed to talk…." she began, attempting a teasing tone, but trailing off when it failed miserably.

Fortunately, Harm recognized it as the delaying tactic that it was and returned with a shrug, "Yeah, well, I guess I was expecting you to call, not drive three and a half hours to Norfolk." They both laughed a little, but the sound was bitter and full of regret and they quickly fell silent.

"Honestly?" she asked, glancing at him. He nodded. She looked back over the ocean as she blindly fiddled with the engagement ring on her left hand. "I don't know. Chloe and I were talking and she said some things, said that I needed to think. After she left, I got into my car and just started driving. I didn't have any particular place in mind. I just wanted to get away. Then, before I knew it, I was just outside of Richmond and telling some state trooper who must have thought I was driving drunk that I was on my way to Norfolk. When I was ready to get back on the highway, there was this voice inside my head telling me to head back north, back to DC. But I couldn't make myself do it."

"Maybe you should have," he pointed out. "It would have been better…."

"Better?" she echoed. Involuntarily, Harm slid away from her on the bench. But she wasn't yelling at him. No, this was worse. Her voice exuded all the warmth of steel. "How is it better to feel like I'm being torn into a million pieces? How is it better to be faced with a choice that I didn't even know I was allowed to make because everyone around me kept making my choices for me?"

"Mac, I'm sorry…." he began, only to be cut off by her.

"Sorry about anything in particular?" she demanded. "Or is this just a general sorry, a catch-all to cover any and all situations?"

Harm turned away from her and stared out over the beach. From this angle, she could still see the torment in his expression, the firm, tight line of his lips as struggle against this with everything that was in him. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just wish there was some way to make all of this easier."

"Yeah," she concurred, sliding off the bench to sit cross-legged on the sand. She rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her folded hands. "Tell me something? How did you do it? How did you make it look so easy to just watch me walk away?"

"Who said it was easy?" he countered, sitting down beside her. "I thought we establish that a few weeks ago. But maybe I was the one who didn't think he had a choice. You're the one who, after I asked you to wait, showed up wearing another man's ring just a few days later. You asked me how long you were supposed to wait? Well, was I supposed to be ready just because you were?"

Mac couldn't reply, recognizing the truth of his words. Maybe she was trying to make something complicated too simple. And now look where she was – three days away from marrying one man while unable to stop thinking about another. Idly, she picked up a handful of sand and watched it fall back to the ground from between her spread fingers. "I had this dream," she began, not even sure why she was mentioning it. But she was so scared of losing Harm and she was desperate enough to try anything to try and figure out how to hang onto their friendship. Yeah, but could she be satisfied with just that? "I was doing the presentation on the Somers mutiny and I kept having these weird dreams about it. I would see Mic as the captain, about to hang the three mutineers…."

"I can see that," Harm said with a laugh, quieting at a stern glance from her. "Sorry. Please continue. You saw Mic about to hang the mutineers and…."

"I never could see the third man's face," she explained quietly. "I could see the first man – the Secretary's son, the ring leader – and I could see the second man, but I never could see this third man and it didn't seem important at first. It never occurred to me that it was important, because, after all, it was only a dream. But the last time I had the dream, I finally saw the third man's face and it scared the hell out of me."

Harm was silent, waiting for her to continue. But when she spoke again, she changed tactics slightly. "Do you really think we can do it?" she wondered. "Can we hang onto our friendship in light of everything that's happened the last few weeks or are we fighting a losing battle?"

He looked away, scared to answer the question. Or maybe he was scared of the answer. She pressed on. "So much has happened in the last few weeks," she continued. "Can we forget about that and go back to the way things were?"

The question hung in the air between them as he turned back to stare at her. Both wanted so much to close the distance between them, but they recognized the perilous slope they were clinging to. Harm tried to tear his eyes away first, but he couldn't make himself. "What if….we don't have a choice anymore?" he asked.

"Or maybe it's our last chance to make the right one," she whispered in reply, unconsciously leaning closer to him. Her tongue darted out to moisten dry lips and Harm found himself fascinated by the slightly movements her mouth made. He started to reach out a hand to her, but then let it drop as he realized he was doing.

Mac noticed what he did and nearly reached out grab his hand back, mesmerized by the memory of his touch. What she wouldn't give to feel that heat again. Taking a deep breath, she asked a simple question, realizing the answer would make all the difference in the world. "What do you want?" she asked quietly.

She held his gaze, watching the internal struggle play out. He opened his mouth to speak, ready to insist that it was too late, but he couldn't make the words come out. His earlier words to her echoed through his mind. 'And how long can this go on before the circumstances arise when it is just you and me, with nothing and no one around to tell us no?' He had to stop this before it went that far. Or maybe it had already gone too far, he realized as he tried again to utter the words that would slam this door shut between them, maybe forever. But he couldn't do this.

The look he gave Mac as she picked up one of his hands and held it in hers tore at her heart. But she held her ground, waiting to hear his reply. This was far too important to rely on innuendos and half-spoken truths, as they had in the past. She needed to hear him say it, whether his words ended up being her salvation or her damnation.

"You," he whispered as Mac released the breath she hadn't even realized that she'd been holding. "I'm so tired of pretending that I don't want you….so tired of pretending that I'm happy that you're marrying Brumby."

"Oh, Harm…." she breathed as he tugged on her hand, drawing her closer. Before she realized it, she was in the warm circle of his arms, staring up at the stars overhead he nuzzled against her neck, his lips barely brushing against rapidly heating skin. She barely noticed as his leather jacket fell from her shoulders or when he began to push her back onto the sand. But it echoed like a gunshot in her head when they heard the sound of tires crunching in gravel just yards away.

They pulled apart and stared at each other, dazed. "We can't…." Harm began hesitantly, standing as he brushed the sand from his jeans.

Mac stared down at the ground for a moment, resisting the urge for tears. She should have known it wouldn't last. Once again, she'd opened herself up to him and had ended up being damned. Holding back a sigh of frustration, she slowly picked up his jacket and folded it in half, carefully laying it over her arm. She started to stand, until she found herself at eye-level with a hand held out to her.

She looked up into Harm's concerned gaze, holding her breath again, and waiting for him to make the first move. He studied her for a moment then nodded slightly, seeming to understand the message in her eyes. Bending down, he gripped her hand in his and pulled her to her feet before taking the jacket from her and holding it up for her to slip into. "Harm?" she asked quietly as she slide her arms through the sleeves, overwhelmed by his nearness, but afraid to believe.

"Never be sorry," he whispered as he lowered his head, repeating the words he'd told her earlier that day in the JAG courtyard. She shivered for reasons that had nothing to do with the chill in the air as he brushed his lips over her forehead and each of her cheeks. "I'm not."

"I'm not sorry, either," she replied, her words lost as his lips captured hers. She groaned deep in her throat as she pressed against him, promising herself that no matter what else happened, she would never be sorry for these few moments of paradise in his arms.

~*~*~*~

To be continued (as I'm sure you can tell from this ending, the next part gets into the good stuff).

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[> DOALS I - Hands To Heaven 4/10 -- TracyJean, 17:06:55 06/09/05 Thu

This part is definitely adults only...

~*~*~*~

NAVY LODGE
NORFOLK, VIRGINIA

Mac's knuckles were bone white as she gripped her car's steering wheel while waiting for Harm to pull into the parking lot. Had he changed his mind during the drive to the lodge? Was he delaying his arrival so that he could figure out how to let her down gently, could figure out how to tell her that this night wasn't going to happen for them? Calm, she told herself. If he’d been planning to put a stop to this, wouldn't he have done so on the beach, when the approach of a car had interrupted their interlude? Why not let her down then, when she’d been expecting and had been prepared for it?

Maybe they should have come in the same car from the Officer's Club, instead of each of them driving their own vehicles back. But then that would have led to the problem of having to pick up the other vehicle in the morning. Mac knew why they had driven separately, but that didn't mean that she had to like it. She feared that the longer they were apart, the more time Harm would have to come up with a reason to back out of this, the more time he would have to regain control.

As she clenched her left hand into a fist, she saw a glint out of the corner of her eye as her engagement ring caught the light from the overhead lights in the parking lot. She held up her hand and studied the ring, trying to figure out how she felt. Here she was, days away from marrying one man, and just a few steps away from falling into bed with another. Oddly, it didn't bother her the way she thought it should. It should have bothered her. She should have remembered her ultimately disastrous relationship with John Farrow and her marriage to Chris and what she was about to do should have been weighing so heavily on her mind that she was ready to restart her engine and drive as fast as she could back to Washington and to confess and to beg Mic's forgiveness for what she was thinking about doing. But the only think weighing heavily on her mind was how devastating it would be if she never had a chance with Harm.

With a sad sigh, she slowly pulled the ring from her finger and dropped it into her open purse sitting on the seat beside her. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring. There was so much that she owed Mic and it wasn't quite that easy to walk away from that. For now, she didn't want to think about that. Even if only for a few hours, she wanted to step outside of her crazy, confused life and live out her fantasies.

From the other side of her car's rolled up window, Harm watched as she removed the ring and tucked it away in her purse. He wasn't optimistic enough to think this was permanent, not yet. Too much time had passed; there was too much water under that bridge. But maybe what was happening between them would prove to be strong enough to break whatever hold Brumby had held over her for the last fifteen months before it was too late, before he lost her forever. The little voice in his head told him that he should run, that he should save himself from the uncertainty of what this night would mean, of what this night might lead to, but he stood his ground. Even if this never happened again, even if he sat in a church Saturday morning and watched her marry another man, he wanted this. If nothing else, he would make himself live with the memories of one magical night for the rest of his life.

He hesitated another moment, then gently rapped on her window, pained more than he cared to admit by the surprised look in her eyes when she noticed his presence. Did she think thathe’d planned to back out of this? Grabbing her purse, she stepped out of the car and made a great show of slowly turning around and closing her car door, making sure it was locked and the alarm was set. "Mac?" he asked gently.

She finally turned to face him, forcing a weak smile. "I'm….well, I don't know," she said softly. She looked down at her hands and took a deep breath. When she looked back up at him, she seemed steadier. "I was worried."

"You thought I had changed my mind," he concluded, making it a statement and not a question. Sadly, she nodded, forcing her gaze to meet his. She couldn't mask her surprise when he pulled her to him, pressing light kisses along her hairline. As he wrapped his arms around her, she felt something odd against her back. She pulled his right arm out from behind her back until she could see the brown paper bag he held in his hand. From the size and outline of the object inside, there was only one thing it could be. She gave him a questioning glance.

"I stopped on my way here," he explained, his voice betraying a hint of his nervousness. It wasn't an emotion he often let show and Mac found it oddly endearing. "I wasn't sure….I didn't want anything to, um…." She placed a finger over his lips to silence him.

"It's okay," she assured him, shivering as he took her hand in his and began pressing soft butterfly kisses over her palm. Her words came out haltingly as she began losing herself to the heat spreading throughout her body from his simple, tender touch. "I'm on the Pill, unless….well, you'd feel better…." She trailed off uncertainly, not sure how to proceed, what to say. She'd had lovers before, but this was different, for reasons she wasn't sure she was ready to admit. She wanted nothing to come between them, needed to feel all of him. For one night, she wanted no barriers between them, whether physical or emotional.

Fortunately, he seemed to understand what she was saying and nodded slightly as he pulled her back against him, holding her tight, letting her feel the ever hardening proof of how much he wanted her, wanted this. Mac sighed deeply as she unconsciously rocked against him. As he groaned against her neck, they both marveled inwardly at how close they were to finally fulfilling a long-held desire which haunted them both. "We need to go inside," Harm murmured, knowing he couldn't hold out much longer against nearly five years of buried desire and suspecting that she couldn't either, if the way she was moving against him and the soft little noises she was making were any indication.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart and walked inside the lodge, Harm falling into step behind Mac, his hand resting lightly on her upper back, his fingers lazily playing with her hair. Mac leaned back slightly, enjoying the tender attention. There was something….she couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but she would do anything to hold onto that feeling for the rest of her life. She found herself wishing more than ever that she could make this last beyond tonight.

Pressing his hand against her, Harm guided her to the door to his room while he fumbled through his jeans pockets, searching for his key card. He bit back a sigh of frustration as he patted down all his pockets. So close, only to be held up by a missing key card. He contemplated heading to the front desk for another card when he glanced at Mac and remembered. With a grin on his face, he tapped her on the shoulder.

Mac turned to face him, immediately lost in his smile. It had been a while since she'd really seen that boyishly handsome expression. She just couldn't decide if it was because he hadn't smiled for her like that in a long time or because she’d stopped noticing. Neither explanation was very appealing, a brief shadow crossing over her features at the thought. Harm noticed and his expression grew more serious. Brushing his hand against her cheek, he asked gently, "Ma….Sarah?"

Her breath caught in her throat at the sound of her name coming from his lips. She never noticed before how much feeling he put into those two syllables, as if it was more than a name, as if he was conveying a hidden message meant for her ears alone. She smiled, a heartfelt one, and requested, "Smile for me again."

Harm couldn't help but respond to her smile and the grin returned to his face as he reached for the jacket she was wearing – his leather flight jacket. He slipped his hand inside the jacket, fishing through the inside pocket for the key card he'd deposited in there earlier, letting his hand linger a few moments longer than necessary, his hand brushing against her breast. Mac swayed slightly towards him, prolonging the contact, desperately wanting more. "Harm…." she murmured, gazing up at him, trying to convey every bit of aching need in her whispered tones.

Blindly sliding the key card into the lock with one hand, Harm wrapped the other around her shoulders, pulling her against him, his fingers tangling in her hair as his lips met her in a bruising kiss that left Mac weak-kneed and clinging to his shoulders for support. After a couple of tries with the card, he finally heard the click signaling the lock had disengaged and he pushed the door open, dragging her into the room, pressing her against the door to close it.

"Oh, God," Mac whispered on a gasp of breath as their bodies pressed together, hands moving roughly over exposed flesh, pulling at restrictive clothing. She managed to yank Harm's shirt free of his jeans, breaking off their kiss just long enough to drag it over his head and toss it away. She licked her lips as she pressed her palms flat against his chest and moved the slowly over his muscular torso, marveling at how wonderful it felt to finally touch him like this.

Harm's hands were busy as well, swiftly moving down the front of her shirt, unfastening buttons and soon her shirt and jacket joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He took a step back and his gaze traveled slowly over her body, trying to memorize her every feature. Pressing his hands against her waist, he moved his hands upward until they cupped her lace-covered breasts, his thumbs rubbing back and forth over the hardening peaks.

Mac leaned forward into his touch, praying that he would never stop touching her. It was everything she’d imaged it would be and more. She'd known that he would be good with his hands, would know just how to touch a woman. But she still needed more and reached behind her to unfasten her bra, shrugging it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, her eyes locked on Harm's, reveling in his admiring gaze.

<i>Is that a request?</i>

Slowly, almost reverently, Harm dipped his head, brushing warm lips over aching flesh. She arched towards him, encouraging his tender ministrations, moaning deep in her throat as his mouth latched onto one nipple. He gently tugged and teased with his teeth while his tongue circled around the hardened peak. His hand found her other breast and covered it, his fingers plying her tender flesh, molding and teasing.

She draped her arms over his shoulders, clinging to him as if her knees might buckle. And she wasn't entirely sure that they wouldn't, the burning arousal was so intense. Her entire body was on fire and she willingly surrendered herself to the flames. Just as she felt herself falling, he pulled his mouth away and she found herself being lifted up, securely held in a pair a strong arms and she buried her head against his neck, inhaling his strong male scent as he carried her across the room and laid her on the bed.

He stood over her, his hands reaching out hesitantly for the waistband of her jeans. His eyes met hers and she could see so clearly the unspoken question there. She was touched, in a way she never had been before. It was another piece to the puzzle that was Harmon Rabb. For all his flyboy arrogance, he could be such a gentleman. "It's okay," she said softly, taking hold of one of his hands and placing it on the button at her waist.

Finally, he unfastened her jeans and slowly pulled them down her legs, taking her lace panties with them as she kicked her shoes off, and then removed his own jeans and boxers before stretching out next to her on top of the bed while Mac studied him up and down with an admiring gaze. She often imagined what he looked like and she admitted to herself that imagination paled in comparison to reality. He was….perfect, she thought, for lack of a better word. Her eyes traveled back up to meet his and their gazes held, their expressions speaking volumes, words which neither was ready, even now, to utter aloud. With a nearly inaudible sigh, Harm gathered her into his arms, holding her tight against him as one hand lazily stroked up and down her back. A thousand nerve endings tingled in response and Mac gripped his arm, needing to hold onto something.

"Harm?" Mac asked in a slightly nervous tone. What if he was having second thoughts, even now? She wasn't sure if she could take it, coming so close yet still so far away from what they both needed so desperately.

"I…." he began, his voice just as hesitant. Taking a chance, she lifted her head so that she could look into his eyes and what she saw both relieved and saddened her.

"I know," she assured him, pressing her fingers over his lips, her breath catching as his lips skimmed over her fingertips. "Promise me, for tonight, that we'll try not to think about that. For tonight, I want there to be just you and me."

Harm nodded as he pulled her hand away and lowered his mouth to hers, pressing her onto her back beneath him, his hand sliding down her body to delve into her aching sex, finding her so hot and wet. She rotated her hips against his hand, wanting more than just his touch, and he pulled it away, understanding the unspoken message, settling between her legs, his erection pressing against her.

He couldn't take it anymore. In that last moment, so close to everything he'd only ever dreamed of, his control snapped and he entered her with one hard thrust, tearing a harsh cry from her throat. He stilled, but she wrapped her legs high around his waist, holding him against her before he could pull away. Their eyes met and she felt tears forming at his obvious tenderness and concern. "It's okay," she promised softly. "I just never dreamed…."

"Neither did I," he replied, struggling to control his own voice. He wondered how he was supposed to go on without ever experiencing this again, her soft flesh pressed against his, her heat enveloping him. He'd thought that he could. He'd told himself that, if events continued on the course they were on, he'd have no choice. Silently, he prayed that this would just be a beginning for them and not another goodbye, perhaps the final one. He reached for one of her hands and clasped it in his, entwining their fingers.

"Harm, please," she whispered, brushing her lips over his. "I need…." Her plea ended on a gasp of breath as he began moving inside of her, rocking her to her core. She felt….complete, as if a missing piece to the puzzle that was her life had just clicked into place. She struggled to keep her eyes open, to focus on him as they moved together, their bodies matching rhythms perfectly, as if they'd been lovers forever. Her heart nearly broke at the expression in his eyes, at the intense sadness mixed with the passion and maybe even love. Hadn't that been whathe’d told her on the Admiral's porch in so many words, that he loved her? Now she could feel it, her heart aching and breaking with every soft caress, with the brush of heated flesh against flesh. God help her, she no longer had even the tiniest doubt about Harm's feelings for her and at just about any other point in time, the realization would have been a happy one. Now, it brought her even more pain and despair. She'd never thought that such an intense love could bring with it a heart-wrenching loneliness.

Harm noted a similar expression crossing her features, cursing himself for being the one to cause her such pain. If only he could have given her what she’d wanted that night in Sydney. If he'd known what it would feel like, inside and out, to be completely wrapped up in Sarah Mackenzie, to be a willing prisoner to her heat, he'd have swept her into his arms the moment they'd stepped off the ferry and carried her away, the consequences be damned. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. He wanted to concentrate on the here and now, on a few stolen moments which might have to last both of them a lifetime.

Mac tightened her fingers around his as he pushed her higher, moving in and out with such force mixed with such tenderness. It was such a contradiction, she realized, but then again, so was Harm. But she still needed more, wanted more. "Oh….please," she gasped, fighting to get the words out. "Oh….more…."

He seemed to sense exactly what she needed, his free hand slipping between their bodies, finding her clit almost immediately, exerting just the right amount of pressure to send shockwaves through her entire body. Her fingers tightened even more around his as she bit down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying out, tasting the bitter metallic sting of blood, as her body shook and trembled with an intensity she’d rarely felt.

Moments later, Harm was following her over the edge, his own cries muffled as he buried his face against the comforter, but Mac was sure she could make out a harsh 'Sarah' among his mostly incoherent cries. She wrapped her arm around him, gently stroking his back as he collapsed against her, his body trembling. She inhaled deeply, trying to commit it all to memory - the heady, musky scent of sweat and sex, of what they had done, of all that this night would mean to them for the rest of their lives.

"You're trembling," Mac whispered after a moment, pressing a soft kiss against the top of his head, one hand continuing to move slowly up and down his damp back, in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. It seemed like an odd thing to say, but she couldn't think of anything else and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry, about that and about everything else. When he didn't acknowledge her, she squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden pain in her heart. She didn't think that it would come this soon – the regret and the recriminations. She’d hoped that they would have just a little more time before the cold water of reality splashed on their fantasies….

….Until he turned his head to face her and she saw the truth in his eyes, along with the tears threatening to fall. "I….," he began, struggling to put it into words, fighting to find the phrases to make her understand what she hadn't understood in Sydney. And this was far too important for her not to understand.

"Shhh," she said suddenly, pressing a hand against his cheek, her thumb rubbing over his lips. "I know." And she did know, could see in his eyes the truth of what he'd tried to tell her all those months ago. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, then his soul was laid open before her, naked and bare. When he'd said that he was that way only with her, it had been one of the most honest statements that he'd ever made. he’d finally let go, even if only for a few brief moments, of the lifeline that she’d accused him of clinging to and had let her see a Harmon Rabb, Jr. whom she was sure no other woman had ever seen. Instinctively, she knew thathe’d never let himself be so open, so naked and vulnerable, not with anyone. He'd always kept these carefully constructed walls around his heart, even with those closest to him. But for her, for just a moment in time,he’d let the shields down and exposed the very depths of his soul.

She recognized the truth because she’d done the same. For a brief moment, they had both found the meaning and the gift of true intimacy, a merging not only of bodies, but of souls. She'd finally found everything that'd she'd ever been looking for from a man and a relationship, but unfortunately, it might end up being one of the saddest and loneliest moments of her life.

With Chris Ragle, she'd been too young and often too drunk to understand that there was more to making love than just the physical act of sex. While it had usually been pleasant enough, it had satisfied her body in much the same way that the fiery smoothness of the alcohol sliding down her throat had. There had been no emotional connection, only an empty place in her soul where love should have resided.

Her relationship with John Farrow, although better in many ways, had still been lacking something fundamental. She’d been a lost young woman, looking for someone to guide her. She’d been Eliza Dolittle to his Henry Higgins, someone to be molded and shaped into some womanly ideal. She’d been like a college student with a crush on her older, worldlier professor. Although she could say that she'd had strong feelings for him, she had to admit that it had mostly been gratitude for all thathe’d shown her. But even that relationship, the first adult one she'd had and probably the closest she'd come to a stable romantic relationship up to that point, had been built on a lie.

Dalton Lowne – another unequal relationship, but one which sadly had threatened to bury her spirit. For him, she’d been the ultimate accessory, something good-looking on his arm who could stroke his ego by adoringly following his lead both in public and in private. She should have known that relationship was doomed when she'd been unable to force herself to fit into his corporate world. She'd thought she'd been in love with him, but hindsight taught her thathe’d been a master at seduction, saying and doing all the right things to draw her into his web, where she would have remained trapped had the Marine in her not finally exerted herself and forced herself free. She remembered sitting in McMurphy's with Bud and Harm, having booted Dalton from her life, and feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Yes, she’d been saddened that it hadn't worked out. She'd invested a lot in that relationship. But at the same time, she'd felt a tremendous sense of relief.

She still hadn't quite figured out her relationship with Mic Brumby. At times, he seemed to exhibit some of the traits which had doomed her previous relationships. There were times when she was nothing more than an accessory on his arm, someone to show off who stroked his ego. At others, he expected her to be molded into his image of the ideal woman, subservient to her man and accepting his word as law. It would seem that he didn't have much respect for who she was or what she’d gone through to become that woman. At times, it had been painfully obvious.

In his favor, he seemed to truly love her andhe’d come along at a time when she'd most needed to know that she was worthy of love, when she thought that she'd been shot down by the man she'd really wanted. He'd bolstered her up when she thought she'd had little self-worth because the man she'd wanted didn't seem to want her. Any woman would love to have a man as obviously devoted to her as he was.

She’d come to the conclusion that true intimacy was little more than a fairy tale, something to be found only in romance novels where everyone overcame their problems to live 'happily ever after', that she had to be satisfied with less than everything she'd dreamed of, that her dreams had been folly….until tonight, when a few stolen moments had turned out to be so much more. She'd finally found a man who respected her and treated her as an equal.

Or rather, she finally acknowledged that he'd been right in front of her all along. Although there were times when he could be arrogant and seemingly put her down, he knew when he was wrong. Although rare, his apologies were treasured because they came from the heart and he never expected one in return for infarctions real or imagined, nor did he expect her to apologize while failing to recognize his own shortcomings. The perfect relationship for her might just be the one she could never, through circumstance, ever have.

It was rare that she found a man who was as concerned with what she was experiencing and expecting from their lovemaking as he was with his own pleasure. It had touched her, more than she’d ever thought anything like that ever would, when he'd been worried that her gasp as they'd come together had been one of pain, that he'd inadvertently hurt her in some manner. His tenderness had only enhanced the pleasure she'd found in his arms. Then, when she’d made a request of him, he'd shown her that he truly cared that she was getting what she wanted and was not just happy to accept what he was offering merely because he was offering it.

But it was now, at the end, when she recognized what intimacy truly was, when he'd held her hand as she'd fought against crying out and shook with her release, when he let her hold him as he was overcome by what they'd just experienced, when he'd let go of his lifeline and had let her see deep into his soul. For a few moments, they'd stepped outside of their tired, painful, lonely reality and created a magical fantasy that few people could ever hope to experience.

Harm started to divert his eyes, slightly uncomfortable with her acknowledgement of his emotional struggle, but then he forced himself to meet her gaze unflinchingly. "You do?" he asked softly, fearing that he would have to try to find the words which had so often before eluded him, afraid that he wouldn't be able to find the right words to express the pain and joy fighting for a grip on his heart.

"I felt it too," Mac answered simply. "This is what you meant, when you said you're this way only with me." It wasn't a question, but a statement which he acknowledged with a slight nod of his head. She closed her eyes, wishing she could have seen the truth before everything had spun so far out of their control. Now, no matter what happened, people would be hurt – maybe themselves, maybe others. But people would be hurt. There was no stopping that now.

"Hey," he said softly, propping himself up on an elbow as he pushed her damp hair off her face. His touch was so soft, so tender and she sighed softly at the attention. She forced herself to open her eyes, meeting his gaze. "It's not your fault."

"As you pointed out more than once," she reminded him, "I'm the one who ran to him very quickly after…."

"And I thought we had both acknowledged that there's plenty of blame to go around there?" he pointed out. "It takes two people to make a relationship and two to screw one up."

But unfortunately, in this case, only one person can fix it, she reminded herself. That was another thing about Harm. No matter how much he wanted her, he would never pressure her. Tonight had happened because they'd both wanted it. But she knew that if she told him that it was what she wanted, this is where it would also end. He wouldn't blackmail her into staying with him over Mic. He wouldn't threaten to take away his friendship if she didn't choose him. She wouldn't have to worry about him ever using this night to destroy her relationship with Mic out of spite or a need for vengeance. He would walk away because he cared more about her happiness than his own. It was just another thing that she had to consider, on top of about a million other things that had happened during the last five years that were weighing so heavily on her mind.

But she didn't want to think about any of that right now. She wanted to hold onto the magic for as long as possible. She lifted their still joined hands to her lips, pressing light kisses against his fingers. There was so much she wanted, so many questions that she needed to find the answers to. Try not to think about that now, she admonished herself again. Everything will still be here in the morning, unfortunately. Just concentrate on the here and now.

Harm watched her, studied the emotions playing across her face in the pale moonlight streaming through a crack in the curtains. He would have given anything to make this easier for her. There was a part of him that even wished that this had never happened, only in that it was causing her pain. For himself, he would never be sorry. His only regret was that this had not happened sooner, before things had spun too far out of their control. "Sarah?" he asked.

She managed a smile at the concern she heard in his voice. She could imagine what he was thinking, probably many of the same things that were going through her own mind. But she didn't want to think about that now. They still had hours before dawn came and reality intruded again on their fantasies. "Do something for me," she requested softly.

"Anything," he vowed fervently. Mac didn't know whether to laugh or to cry at that.

"Hold me," she said, her voice trembling just enough that he could hear it. "I just want you to hold me."

"I can do that," he replied, rolling onto his back, pulling her with him. She settled against him, her head resting on his chest. She closed her eyes, trying to let the now-steady thumping of his heart beneath her ear lull her into peaceful rest.

Harm laid there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, even after Mac had fallen asleep, her hand still clasped tightly in his, as if she would never let it go. He'd wanted very much to assure her that everything would work out, but he'd stopped himself from uttering the words, knowing they would be a lie. No matter which way this ultimately worked out, someone – more than one person most likely – would be hurt. Nothing could stop that now. It was too late. It was just too damn late.

~*~*~*~

To be continued


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