VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

[ Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, [6], 7, 8, 9 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 15:40:21 06/10/05 Fri
Author: TracyJean
Subject: DOALS I - Hands To Heaven 5b/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

Okay, here's the rest of part 5....

~*~*~*~

Harm realized that this was swiftly spiraling out of his control and he didn't want that, not this time. He set Mac down on the edge of the bed, breaking their bodies' contact, kneeling on the floor between her legs, his hands resting on the tops of her thighs. She looked at him questioningly and opened her mouth to speak, until he pressed a finger to her lips to silence her. "I just…." he began, glancing away as he found himself uncustomarily at a loss for words. Taking a deep breath, steeling his resolve, he turned back to her, determined not to waste the precious little time they had left together.

Slowly, almost tentatively, he raised his hands to her face, his fingers tracing her features. Mac's eyes widened in amazement. This was yet another piece of the puzzle that was her best friend, now her lover. Her lover. She never thought she'd ever be able to use those two words in conjunction with Harmon Rabb. The thought brought a soft smile to her lips as his fingers moved over her full lips. She closed her lips around a single finger, her tongue swirling around the tip. Her eyes fluttered closed and she imagined that it was another part of him imprisoned between her lips.

Perhaps he was thinking the same thing, she thought as she sensed his reaction in the feel of his hot breath against her cheek, the sound as his breathing became slightly erratic and uncertain, as if he was trying to remind himself how to breathe. She sighed with disappointment when he withdrew his finger from her mouth, the sound turning to a murmur of approval as she felt his breath against her lips, as if his mouth was just barely hovering over hers.

Then she felt it – just the barest hint of a touch, of his lips brushing against hers. Then it was gone, replaced by the sensation of light kisses over the satin smoothness of her cheek. Slowly his mouth moved over her entire face until she was convinced that there wasn't a single square inch which his mouth hadn't touched. Then his lips were back on hers, his kiss harder, more insistent. He tugged on her full lower lips with his teeth, nibbling and tasting.

While his mouth was busy plundering hers, his hands weren't idle, sliding languidly down her back and slipping under the hem of her shirt. His fingers unerringly found the tattoo she'd teased him with so long ago, rubbing around the spot in slow circles. Earlier, as they'd settled together in the afterglow of their hurried, heated lovemaking, he'd sought out the tattoo, fully intending to make some flip comment about it – until he'd managed in the darkness to make out the shape branded on her flesh. The teasing words he'd thought to utter had died unspoken on his lips. He couldn't say if she'd found a particular meaning in the image when she'd had the tattoo done, but he'd found an eerie symbolism in the blood-red rose with thorny stem now.

When he'd first spied it, a couple of lines of an old song had drifted through his head. 'Every rose has its thorns. Every night has its dawn.' He couldn't have found a more applicable symbol of them or their relationship than that image. If their feelings for each other were like a rosebud, sweet and full of promise, then the thorns on the stem were every hurtful word said and unsaid between them, their significant others and every event and happenstance which was conspiring to keep them apart. Tonight they were inhaling the fragrant scent of the flower, but when dawn came, they would find themselves caught in the prickly, thorny hands of fate. It was quite appropriate for two people who'd met just outside a rose garden.

"I got that before I met you," Mac whispered against his mouth, vaguely aware through the heady passion enveloping her of just where his hand was lingering. "It reminded me of something my uncle had said when I was drying out. I'd just never imagined…."

"I know," he replied raggedly, not allowing her to complete the thought. His hands moved up her back as he resolved to put it out of his mind for now. Morning would come soon enough, and with it the pain of the prick of those thorns. But for now….his hands slid back down and he grasped the bottom of her shirt, pulling back from her as he lifted it up over her head and tossed it away.

Mac's eyes fluttered open when she realized that he'd stopped touching her. His eyes met hers and she thought she'd detected the slight flush of color to his cheeks when he'd realized that he'd been caught staring. Or maybe she'd just imagined it. It was so easy to imagine anything she wanted in the darkened room.

"You're beautiful," he whispered and this time, she was the one flushing pink. It was an odd think to blush about. She knew that she was good looking, not that she flaunted it. It was simply a fact of her existence. But this was Harm uttering those complimentary words. He'd called her desirable before, but she'd been too busy at the time forcing him to open himself up to her to think about her response to his statement. But now, it was all she could think about. It brought a heady sense of power, knowing that he found her attractive and desirable, but such power came with a price. She just prayed the price wouldn't be too costly.

Harm rested his hands on her shoulders and slowly began exploring every plane and contour, moving down her arms, paying special attention to the sound of her breath catching in her throat when his fingers danced across her collarbone, the barely noticeable trembling as his fingers lingered on the insides of her elbows or the shiver which seemed to sweep her entire body as his thumbs traced lazy circles on the palms of her hands.

Mac wondered if this was what was meant by simmering passion, what was meant when people spoke of the slow burn of arousal. Had any man ever paid this much attention to her body before, practically worshiping her? She decided that it didn't matter. All that mattered was the man kneeling before her, as if at an altar.

Then it wasn't his hands, but his mouth moving over her, following the same path his hands had, first down one arm, then up the other. She exhaled a long, slow breath, imagining him repeating the same actions over other parts of her body, first his hands starting the fire, then his mouth continuing on to fan the flames until they burned blindingly bright.

As his hands returned to her body, fingers skimming over her flat stomach, Harm lifted his head so he could watch her eyes. He'd always thought her eyes so expressive, whether darkening in anger or alight with amusement. Now he wanted to memorize the barely concealed passion lurking in their dark depths, the way they sparkled in the pale light as his fingers brushed a particularly sensitive spot, the way her lids fluttered half-closed as she struggled to draw ragged gasps of air into her lungs as his hands skirted around her aching breasts to dance across her upper chest.

Her mouth was fascinating to him as well, her lips slightly parted as she fought for breath, releasing a soft moan of pleasure as he cupped her breasts in his palms. His fingers moved over her, varying his touch, light one moment, just a little more pressure the next, Harm always alert for any sign that it was too much.

He was really good with his hands, Mac decided. He was too good. Surely there was a law somewhere against someone being that good. Of course, leave it to Harm to have hands which ought to be classified as lethal weapons. Now she was sure of one thing. If he were to ask her at this exact moment to run away with him, she'd do it without a second thought, Mic and all she owed him be damned. She was convinced that she'd be lucky to remember her own name when he was finished with her.

They were combustible together between the sheets, like throwing gasoline on a fire. But was it enough? Was there more than blindingly white hot passion between them, enough to sustain a relationship in the long term? Could they survive the everyday ups and downs, the roller coaster that a committed relationship could often be? Was this enough to overcome all the hurt and the lure of wind and the sky which still called to him? Could she ever be first in his life? Could anyone?

She lost her train of thought, gasping louder as his mouth again replaced his hands, his tongue dipping into her navel and circling around it. Who cared about tomorrow at a time like this? The fire burning in her, the desire only he could satisfy was all that mattered right now.
If what he could do with his hands could be termed lethal, there wasn't a word strong enough to describe what he could do with his mouth. She'd known he'd be good there, too. How many times had she watched him in court, eloquently swaying judges and juries with his impassioned pleas, imagining what else he might be able to do with that mouth of his? Anyone who could use words with such finesse and flair surely knew how to use his mouth in other ways.

Bowing her head, she struggled to focus on the man in front of her, carrying her to such dizzying heights. He had such an intense look of concentration on his face as his mouth closed around one nipple, his tongue circling and teasing and taunting her flesh. Again, it wasn't really a surprise to her. Of course Harmon Rabb would bring the same intensity to sex as he did to everything else he did. It was a quality which made him one of the best in the air and in the courtroom. As for in other areas, she didn't want to think about that. Not now. Maybe not ever, for that question might end up haunting her.

Harm just happened to glance up at that moment and noticed the haunted look in her eyes. What was she thinking? Was she wondering how they could go on without experiencing this ever again? Was she comparing him to others, to….?
You think too much, Rabb, he berated himself. Even if it would only ever be for a few stolen hours, right now Sarah Mackenzie was all his. That was all that mattered. Trying to distract her – and, if truth be told, himself – he let one hand move down her stomach as his mouth moved to her other breast.

Oh, God, it was almost too much, Mac thought as she felt his hand delve between her thighs, pressing against her aching, tingling sex. She slid forward slightly, pressing herself against his hand, silently encouraging him to explore further. But he was slow to comply, opting instead to press the palm of his hand against her as he used his mouth to torment and tease the tender flesh of her breast.

"Tease," she murmured, leaning forward to rest her head against the top of his, her hands gripping his shoulders. He glanced up, breaking off his mouth's contact with her, to a moan of disapproval from her. His familiar, cocky grin was in place, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, she noted. She bit her lower lip, drawing blood. Even in the heat of long-suppressed passion, he couldn't let go enough to forget about the possible consequences. God help her, neither could she. No matter how many times she told herself that none of that other stuff mattered – not right here, not right now – she couldn't make herself put it aside. A thousand nerve endings were all jumbled and humming, charged with electricity, she was achingly desperate for him and she still couldn't make herself forget.

"Try not to think about it," he whispered, trying to follow the same advice himself. He'd expected the cold light of reason to blanket them in the morning, when they couldn't hide from the light of day, not in the dark, as they gave free reign to all the desire and desperate need.

"Just make love to me," she pleaded softly. Just five simple words, but they made him all come undone for reasons he couldn't begin to comprehend or explain. Perhaps it was simply the verbal acknowledgement of how she wanted him, needed him as much as she needed her next breath. His eyes on hers, he gently parted her folds with his fingers, finding her clit and slowly circling around it with a single digit, lightly at first then gradually increasing the pressure until Mac was sure the only thing keeping her upright was her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders.

Pressing his other hand against her stomach, he pressed her back, forcing her to let go of his shoulders, until she was lying flat on her back, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. "Oh, yes," Mac breathed, realizing his intent. Her entire body tensed in anticipation then she felt it, just the barest whisper of a touch, the tip of his tongue sliding against her folds. Breathe, she told herself. It's easy. Just inhale, and then exhale. But she couldn't seem to remember how to do it as she felt his tongue flittering against her clit.

"Oh," she gasped as her fingers curled around the bedcovers, her hands tightening into fists as her body tightened and she tried to fight off the release just barely contained. She wanted this to last forever. It had to last forever.

Listening to her gasp and moan, Harm wondered if she was a screamer. If they'd had more privacy, if there'd been more than thin walls separating them from occupied rooms, would she scream his name as he pushed her over the edge? He'd nearly screamed hers earlier, before he remembered that the walls have ears. The idea was very arousing and he felt his own body tightening in response. He prayed that someday he'd have the opportunity to test that theory. He prayed that someday he'd have the opportunity to do so many things with her, to her.

Too much, Mac thought, as he slid two fingers inside her, pressing against her walls. His fingers were just long enough that he found the perfect spot and her body shook as her world spun and shattered around her. She lost awareness of all but the blinding light surrounding her.

It could have been seconds or it might have been hours later when her eyes fluttered open to find Harm stretched out beside her on his side, propped up on an elbow as he looked down at her, a satisfied expression on his face. She vaguely remembered something she'd thought earlier, about how he'd taken care to ensure that she was receiving the most pleasure from their lovemaking. He was satisfied because he'd satisfied her. Or maybe he was that confident in his ability to drive her mad. Perhaps it was a little of both. She chuckled softly at the thought.

"Penny for your thoughts," he said, drawing a finger along her jaw, his gaze openly admiring. Her skin was flushed and glowing, her breasts heaving with every uneven breath she drew. This was the moment he would always remember, he decided. She was so strong and vulnerable at the same time. Maybe it was a contradiction, but it was one which seemed to fit with who Sarah Mackenzie was.

She blinked, trying to focus her thoughts. A penny for her thoughts. Not here, not now. There were some things she wanted to keep to herself, some things she wasn't ready to share with him, even after everything they'd shared this night. Maybe it was selfish, but there were some things which would simply have to remain locked away in her heart. They would have to if she were to survive this.

Her gaze traveled over him, the corners of her mouth turning upward, hinting at a smile. "I was just thinking….that one of us is a little overdressed," she murmured. It wasn't a lie. She was thinking about that, his hard length straining against his boxers, returning to him a bit of what he'd shown her. But if it wasn't the entire truth, that was for her alone to know. "I want…." she trailed off, suddenly self-conscious, although she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the newness of all this, at least with this man. Yes, that had to be it.

"Tell me," he requested, his eyes steady on hers. If he sensed that she wasn't revealing everything, he kept that to himself. He understood that there were some things that, even now, they didn't yet have the courage to say to each other.

Taking a deep breath, she replied, her voice quiet, "To taste you….I want to taste you." She swore her heart stopped at the look in his eyes as she uttered those words, the intense need she saw. Before she could squash the thought, she wondered if he'd ever looked at another woman like that. She wouldn't ask. Maybe she could imagine that it was a look for her alone, never to be bestowed upon another.

Swallowing hard, Harm nodded, rolling onto his back, pulling a couple of pillows under his head to prop himself up. He wanted to watch her, yet another memory to be filed away. So many memories, maybe all he would ever have of her.

Mac hooked her fingers under the waistband of his boxers and slowly drew them down his legs, as if unwrapping a present she wanted to savor. She'd only had a moment or two earlier to look at him, so she took the opportunity to study him as she positioned herself at his side, propped up on an elbow. Damn, no wonder the man was so cocky, she thought. If there was any such thing as the perfect male form, Harmon Rabb had been blessed with it. Everything was in perfect proportion. She glanced up, surprised by the look now residing on his face.

She thought he'd look smug, well aware of how good he looked. Instead, he looked shy, almost humble. The expression tore at her heart. It was yet another contradiction. Damn, she thought. This would have been easier if he’d been smug. Then maybe she could convince herself that this was just a romp, a roll in the hay that didn't mean anything in the larger picture. Then maybe it would be easier to convince herself that she had no choice but to walk away from this. Damn him. Damn her. Damn it all to hell.

Carefully masking her expression, she didn't acknowledge the expression. Instead, she returned her focus to pleasuring him, wrapping her hand around his length, slowly moving her hand up and down, her eyes on his. She wanted – no, needed – to see his reaction, to see what she did to him. He bit down on his lip, his eyes glittering dark and smoky. Or maybe that was a trick of the darkness.

Shifting position slightly, she bent her head over him, her lips brushing over his hardness, her tongue tracing the veins before her lips closed around him, taking his tip into her mouth, her tongue circling round and round. There was a drop of fluid on his tip and she lapped it up like ice cream. It was salty and musky and strong, just like he was and she wanted more. Relaxing her throat, she took him further into her mouth, her lips and tongue teasing his length.

Harm reached out, finding one of her hands and curling his fingers around hers, tightening his grip as the tension coiled in him like a spring, ready to snap. "No….Sarah," he managed to gasp between ragged breaths. "Not like this…." Summoning the strength from God knows where, he pulled away from her, sitting up as he pulled her into his lap, straddling him, his erection pressing against her folds.

Startled by the sudden change of direction, Mac didn't even have the presence of mind to think as he grasped her hips, sheathing himself in her welcoming heat. Her head fell forward against his shoulder as he whispered against her hair, unconscious of what he was saying, "Next time, I'll have to let you finish that."

The statement didn't even have time to register with Mac before he was thrusting up against her, pushing deeper. She moved against him, again their bodies finding the perfect rhythm. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as she tugged on an ear lobe, delighting in his harsh moans.

"This isn't going to last long," he whispered against her shoulder, where his own mouth had been busy, pressing open mouthed kissed against damp skin.

"I know," she replied in a ragged whisper, not just talking about the impending explosion threatening to engulf them both. That was the curse of this night. It wouldn't last. It couldn't last.

"Sarah." Through the clouds draping her mind, she dimly heard him say her name. She struggled to focus on the sound, then she heard it again, more insistent. Gasping for breath, she lifted her head and forced her gaze to meet his.

"Never be sorry," he whispered, his tone pleading.

"No." Whether agreement with his statement or not, even Mac wasn't sure as she uttered the single word just before his mouth crashed down on hers, muffling her cries as she found release again, her muscles tightening around him as he pressed up into her one last time before he exploded, filling her with his warm seed. She tore her mouth from his and let her head fall against his shoulder as she struggled to regain control over her breathing, dizziness overwhelming her. She felt his head resting against her, his lips nuzzling the nape of her neck.

As reason slowly returned, his earlier words finally registered with her consciousness and she clamped her lips together to keep from crying out. 'Next time, I'll have to let you finish that.' Had he realized what he'd been saying or had it been a result of the fire engulfing him? Her eyes burned with unshed tears at the statement and the meaning behind it.

I will not cry. I will not cry. She repeated the four words in her mind, like a mantra. If she repeated them enough times, maybe she could make herself believe them. But nothing could stop the single tear that fell from her closed eyes to splash on his shoulder.

Harm felt the tear fall and opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again as he realized that he'd been about to say her name – her real name. Taking a couple of breaths to steady himself, he forced himself to begin again. "Mac?"

Mac. Not Sarah. If he'd called her Sarah right now, she didn't think she'd be able to keep her emotions in check, to stop from giving the tears free reign. Steadier, she blinked back the remaining unshed tears and lifted her head. "Yes?"

He turned his head towards hers and captured her lips, slowly and tenderly moving his mouth over hers. It felt like….their kiss on the Admiral's porch, which she'd tried to pass off as a goodbye kiss. It was nearly time to go. Dawn would soon be breaking and with it, their lives would move forward – toward what, neither knew. But if it wasn't toward each other, it was time to start trying to cut that cord, to begin putting all that had happened this night behind them.

As they broke off the kiss, their eyes met and both could see so clearly for just a moment. This was goodbye, maybe for now, maybe forever. They both nodded slightly in silent acknowledgement. As they settled back down for the few precious snatches of sleep they could find before morning, a single thought went through both their minds. In a contradictory way, they were closer, yet farther apart than they'd ever been.

~*~*~*~

To be continued ....

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

[> DOALS I - Hands To Heaven 6/10 -- TracyJean, 14:18:31 06/11/05 Sat

I'm in a very good mood today (part 13 of DOALS III is flowing from the fingertips, it's a beautiful day and the needle is no longer stuck on my bathroom scale but has actually moved downward by a few pounds), and since this part is so short, as a treat, I'm going to post two parts today. Look for part 7 later this evening...

~*~*~*~

AIRFIELD
NORFOLK NAVAL STATION, VIRGINIA

"Commander Rabb?" a man wearing petty officer's stripes asked, walking up to Harm and Mac as they stood on the tarmac, close but not quite touching. Harm was dressed in his flight suit, Mac in a t-shirt and jeans. To anyone looking from a distance, they looked like just another couple facing a forced separation courtesy of the military. But if one looked closely at their eyes, at the hesitant way they touched each other, one would have realized that there was more to the story. At Harm's slight nod, he continued, "The helo for the Patrick Henry will be taking off in about ten minutes."

"Thank you, Petty Officer," Harm replied, his eyes on Mac, who was busy looking down, studying her bare hands, her ring still tucked away in her purse. If….when she put the ring back on, it wouldn't be in front of Harm. She couldn't make herself hurt him like that, at least not right now. She couldn't hurt herself like that. The memories of their passionate interlude were still too fresh, too raw. Her soul was aching and bleeding. She needed to find a way to bind those wounds first. If she had to hurt them, it would be later, when she’d regained some semblance of reason. "I'll be right there."

"I guess this is it," Mac said once the petty officer left them alone again. She looked down at the ground, studying a crack in the pavement, not sure what to say. For not the first time, she was uncertain about her decision to accompany him to the airfield. They could have just as easily said their goodbyes at the lodge. But she needed this, needed to prolong their time together, to hold onto the memories which just might have to last her a lifetime, even if it meant prolonging the goodbye.

"Yeah, I guess," he said, tilting her head up with a finger as he brushed away the tears starting to roll down her cheeks. She smiled weakly and lifted her hand, clasping it around his wrist.

"I promised myself that I wasn't going to do this," she said, her voice trembling.

"It's okay," he tried to assure her, his voice sounding uncertain even to his own ears. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and beg her to leave Mic and give them a chance. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't take the choice away from her. All he could do was make sure that she knew the choice existed. "Mac….Sarah, I want you to promise me something."

She nodded, unconsciously holding her breath as she waited for him to continue. If there was anything which had the power to make her come undone, it was the sound of her name coming from his lips. If he were to beg her to run away with him, to give them a chance, she wasn't entire sure she could deny him that when he said her name like that. 'I love you' couldn't have sounded more beautiful and more heartfelt coming from his lips. "I made you a promise," he began, taking her hand in his and squeezing it gently, "and I intend to do everything in my power to keep it. I will be at the wedding, if that is what you want. But I want you to promise me something in return." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, and then continued, his gaze steady on hers. "I want you to think about….everything and I want you to think about whether or not you're absolutely sure about what you want to do."

"Harm, I…." she began, but he held a hand up to silence her. She quieted, nibbling on her lower lip nervously.

"Please, let me finish," he requested. "This is probably one of the hardest things….if you think about it and you decide that Mic is the one you want to spend the rest of your life with, then I will be at the wedding, ready as your best friend to wish you well on your new life together, in spite of everything that has happened. On the other hand, if maybe you decide….I don't know....that maybe there is something between us and you would like to explore that further…."

Mac sighed sadly, brushing more tears away with her free hand. His hand replaced hers on her cheek, her falling tears gathering on his fingertips. "Do you know what I would have given to have you say something like that back in Sydney?" she mused.

"I know that," he said quietly, studying her bare left hand for a moment. He'd noticed that she still hadn't put the ring back on and every minute that went by without it on her finger gave him just a little more hope for the two of them. He hoped that when she read the letter which he’d slipped into her purse, when she saw the small gift which he’d left for her, she would think even more about what was happening between them and decide that it was something worth hanging onto, that giving up a certain future with Mic was a chance worth taking. "I just wanted you to know that if you do decide to take a chance that you won't have to wait for me to be ready."

"What about Renee?" she asked. She wasn't sure that she had the strength after all this to face a fight and that's what she would face with Renee. There was no way in hell Renee would willingly walk away. In a way, Mac could understand and sympathize. If Harm were hers, she'd feel the exact same way. But he wasn't hers. Right now, he couldn't be. "She does love you."

"I know," he replied after a moment, "and I know that she wants a future for us. But I don't love her and I think she knows that deep down. I'm….pretty sure she does. She knows that….there's something between you and me. I know it would be hard, telling her once and for all that we don't have a future, but I would do it….for us. I can't imagine it would be any easier talking to Mic. It would probably even be harder."

"Yeah, since he's expecting me to walk down the aisle to him in two days," she pointed out. "That's why I can't just…."

"Walk away from him?" he finished sadly. She nodded reluctantly. "I know. All I want is a promise that you'll think about it. I promised you that if you walk down that aisle, I will be there to wish you well."
She nodded again. If Harm was going to promise that he would be there to wish her well, no matter how he felt about her or her impending marriage, then surely it wasn't too much for him to ask what he wanted in return. It wasn't that she wasn't already having doubts. God, she’d just spent the night making love with a man who wasn't her fiancé. If that wasn't a sign that she needed to do a lot of thinking over the next two days, she didn't know what was. It couldn't have been clearer if it had been printed in six-foot neon letters on top of aircraft hanger behind them. "I will," she promised, her tears falling freely.
Her gaze met his and she was mildly surprised to discover that his eyes were suspiciously moist as well. How many times had she seen him cry before? Twice that she could recall, both in connection with his father. Then she remembered another goodbye, when she'd wanted so much to pour her heart out to him and had damned him for not sharing her tears, for not being as tormented as she’d been by his departure. He had eventually come back, but nothing had been the same. No matter which way things went, when he came back this time, nothing would be the same again.

"I have to go," Harm said softly, noticing the petty officer motioning to him out of the corner of his eye. "I'll see you in a few days."

"Yeah," she whispered as he lowered his mouth to hers. She swayed against him, convinced the only thing keeping her upright was his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight against him. She could feel that he was pouring everything into this kiss, every feeling he'd ever felt for her, and she eagerly accepted and returned it all, wishing that this could last forever.

But it couldn't and all too soon, they slowly pulled apart. Without a word, Harm gave her a quick, heartfelt hug then pulled completely away, heading for the helo standing by to take him to the Patrick Henry with strong, steady steps. Mac watched him leave, not even trying to keep her tears in check, envying him his apparent control. At the last moment, as he prepared to step onto the helo, Harm turned and gave her one of his 'flyboy' grins. Despite the distance separating them, she could see that it wasn't that easy, that there was a bit of hesitancy behind the gesture. Once again, she thought she was getting a glimpse into the depths of his soul, at the turmoil within he kept carefully hidden from the rest of the world.

Her heart melted and she tried her best to return the smile, even through her tears. Their eyes locked across the tarmac and Mac had to force herself not to run into his arms, to capture just a little bit more of the feelings that wouldn't go away between them. She had to let him go for now, until she knew for sure.

Harm understood her struggle, for the same one was going on in his own heart. He wanted nothing more than to run back to her, take her into his arms and beg her to give him, to give them a chance. But he loved her enough to let her go if that was what she wanted. He loved her. How he wished he could say those words to her. He’d come close in the letter. He just had to hope that it was enough, that she understood everything which he’d said and everything which he hadn't.

He gave her a thumb's up sign before turning and climbing aboard the helo. As he settled into his seat, fastening himself in, he caught sight of her through the window, still standing on the tarmac. Mac remained there, holding Harm's leather flight jacket tight around her to ward off a non-existent chill in the air, watching as the helo lifted off from the ground, her hair ruffling in the breeze. She stood there, looking like just another woman saying farewell to her Navy man, until the helo disappeared from sight. Only then did she force herself to put one foot in front of the other and walk back across the tarmac to her car in the parking lot, praying silently for the strength to face the choice that she now had to make.

~*~*~*~

To be continued.....


[ Edit | View ]


[ Contact Forum Admin ]

Forum timezone: GMT-5
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.